A mountain guide once told me that the first thing he does with a new client is listen to their feet. "If we're on a trail and their steps are noisy," he said. "They'll be a hazard to themselves—and to me—when we get off the trail."
Walking on a sidewalk is a controlled fall. With a leg extended, we're off balance, and the leg catches us. Moving forward precedes contact with the ground.
Without that controlled fall, moving forward would be strange and difficult, like a ninja sneaking into a house. Instead, we let gravity do most of the work and go along for the ride.
But when the terrain gets steep enough or rough enough that we need to lift our leg rather than just swing it forward, falling onto that leg wastes energy. In that case, the force into the ground is greater than the force required to move upward. And especially when there are consequences to slipping, falling forward is dangerous.
The trick is to—rather than reaching and falling—place your foot and then transfer your weight. The order is reversed; contact with the ground precedes moving forward.
On steep trails—and especially with a heavy pack—it feels a lot like being a slow motion weeble wobble. It's not a fall at all, but a slow, back-and-forth tilt between trustworthy platforms.
You can learn the technique in two ways. The first is to walk over rough terrain for hours and hours, for years and years. Efficiency will naturally, eventually show up.
The second way is to practice it by stepping quietly. The more noise that's made, the more effort is wasted. Excess noise means excess force. If all you hear is a tiny crunch of gravel during weight transfer—and not the step itself, or worse, a stomp—then you're on the right track.
