Why I Love Sunset Hiking (And You Should Too)

2026-07-15

I'll say it plainly: sunsets beat sunrises, and if you're a night owl like me, the trail after dark is the best-kept secret in hiking.

For years I fought the sunrise crowd. Set the alarm for some brutal hour, lie awake half the night dreading it, then either drag myself up the mountain exhausted or sleep through it and spend the whole morning feeling like I'd already lost the day. And there's this other kind of stress too — glancing at the clock in the afternoon, itching to go for a hike, and telling myself it's too late, don't bother. Sunset hiking quietly deleted both of those problems from my life.

The trail belongs to you

Here's the thing nobody tells you: the trail is empty at sunset. No jostling at the trailhead, no lines at the lookout, no waiting your turn for the photo everyone wants. Just you and a serene, wide-open path.

It is gorgeous. The light goes gold, then pink, then deep blue, and the whole world seems to exhale. And once the sun is fully down, the real show starts — stars, and if you're lucky and far enough from the city, entire galaxies smeared across the sky. You don't get that at 7 a.m.

There's something that just feels more right about it. Sunrise hiking is a race against the day. Sunset hiking is the reward at the end of it.

The honest part: what to watch out for

I love this too much to pretend it's risk-free. Night hiking asks more of you, and the two things that bite are both about the way down.

• You can't just follow someone else. During the day, if you space out, you can trail behind the people ahead of you. In the dark and the quiet, there's no one to follow — the route is entirely on you.
• Getting down is harder than getting up. Descending in the dark is where people get turned around. Landmarks vanish, the trail blends into the brush, and every fork looks the same by headlamp.

None of this is a dealbreaker — it's just the price of admission. Know your route before you go, don't rely on anyone else to navigate for you, and treat the descent as the serious part of the hike.

Come to the dark side

If you've ever felt the low-grade guilt of "it's too late for a hike," let me free you: it isn't. Pack a good headlamp, learn your trail, and go watch the sky catch fire and then fill with stars — alone, unhurried, and completely at peace.

Sunrise people can have the morning. I'll take the sunset.