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Easter Sunday, April 20, 2025, offered more than just chocolate bunnies and brunch. For thousands of outdoor sports enthusiasts across the United States, it was a day of sunrise hikes, family bike rides, forest yoga, and trail challenges—proof that spring renewal can be celebrated on mountaintops, not just in pews. As a journalist and long-time trail runner myself, I joined several communities in the field to witness how outdoor lovers marked the day—and heard stories that show how nature continues to unite us.
A Quiet Ascent in the Smokies
Just before dawn, I met up with a small group of hikers at the Alum Cave Trailhead in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The group, organized by a local women’s hiking collective, was there for a silent sunrise hike to Mount Le Conte. There were no sermons or speeches—just the crunch of boots on soil and the breath of hikers syncing with the soft hush of the morning woods.
“We come every Easter. It started as a way to grieve after I lost my dad,” said Carissa, a nurse from Knoxville. “Now it’s tradition. My kids come too. We don’t do church anymore—we do this.”
By 7:00 a.m., the group reached the summit, where the sun spilled golden light across the misted valleys. They passed around thermoses of hot tea and trail mix, exchanging quiet nods and shared glances. It wasn’t loud, but it was sacred.
Rock Climbers Egg Hunt in Joshua Tree
Far across the country, in California’s Joshua Tree National Park, a different kind of celebration unfolded. I connected with a tight-knit group of climbers who’ve been organizing a “Vertical Egg Hunt” for five years running. Early in the morning, colorful plastic eggs filled with chalk balls, protein bars, and goofy climbing puns were hidden along beginner routes.
“It’s kind of our way of welcoming new climbers,” said Micah, a guide who led the event. “We mix fun with mentorship.” A local climber named Ana found one egg with a pass for a free climbing session, while a 10-year-old participant uncovered an egg that read, “Belay better than the Easter Bunny—free gear check!”
The event turned into an impromptu potluck at the Hidden Valley picnic area, complete with camp-stove pancakes and guitar music under the boulders. The community vibe was undeniable.
Easter Rides and Runs Across the Country
In Minneapolis, I joined a “Sunday Joy Ride” organized by a grassroots cycling collective. Dozens of riders in bunny ears and bright jerseys cruised through the city’s extensive greenway system, stopping for coffee and pastries from local vendors. “We use holidays like Easter to remind people that you don’t need a car to feel free,” said Lacey, one of the organizers.
Elsewhere, in Oregon’s Columbia River Gorge, trail runners tackled a 10K Easter Challenge that required participants to stop at scenic overlooks and write gratitude notes before continuing. “It’s not just about speed—it’s about being present,” said Jason, a runner who had recently recovered from a knee injury.
Reflections on the Trail
This Easter wasn’t my first spent in the backcountry, but it may have been the most meaningful. There was a common thread in every story I heard and every face I saw: joy in movement, connection through nature, and the belief that renewal doesn’t require walls—it just needs open sky.
For those who choose to lace up boots or clip into pedals instead of sitting in pews, Easter 2025 was a reminder that spirituality can be found in sunrise shadows, shared laughter on switchbacks, and the quiet rhythm of feet on earth. These are not just activities—they’re rituals. And in a world that often feels divided, outdoor sports continue to build community, one step, one summit, and one story at a time.
