What to Wear Hiking in Every Season……You know that moment when you’re halfway up a trail, sweating buckets, regretting the sweater you thought was “a good idea” because it looked cozy? Yeah. Been there. Multiple times. Honestly, I’ve made more clothing mistakes hiking than I have in dating, which is saying something. (Shoutout to that one guy who wore flip-flops to a trail date. We lasted exactly 37 minutes.)
Anyway, people always ask me what to wear hiking in every season—and the truth is, it depends on whether you want to feel like a woodland wizard striding confidently through the forest, or like me that one time in January when I thought “eh, jeans are fine.” Spoiler: jeans are never fine.
So here it is. My trail-tested, slightly embarrassing, totally real guide to not freezing/melting/scratching your legs off depending on whether it’s spring, summer, fall, or winter.
(Cue inspirational REI ad music… except my version is more like an old iPod commercial where the earbuds never stay in.)
Spring: aka “The Muddy, Buggy, Unpredictable One”
Spring hikes are like blind dates. Sometimes magical, sometimes you end up knee-deep in muck questioning your life choices.
What I actually wear in spring (when I’m not pretending to be cooler than I am):
- Base layer: Some kind of moisture-wicking t-shirt. (Translation: not cotton. Cotton is a clingy ex. Once it’s wet, it never lets go.)
- Outer layer: A light rain jacket. Mine makes that swish swish noise when I walk, which annoys my friends, but hey—at least I’m dry.
- Bottoms: Hiking pants or leggings I don’t mind getting wrecked. Because mud will happen.
- Shoes: Waterproof boots, or trail runners if I feel reckless.
Oh, and bugs. The mosquitoes treat me like I’m the main course at Golden Corral. So I usually toss on a hat and slather myself in bug spray that smells like regret.

Summer: aka “How Am I Sweating in Places I Didn’t Know Could Sweat?”
Summer hiking sounds dreamy. And it is… for like the first 15 minutes. Then you’re dripping, wondering if it’s possible to evaporate completely.
Summer hiking outfit essentials (aka my attempt at not melting):
- Top: A lightweight, breathable shirt. Preferably something that won’t cling like Saran Wrap.
- Shorts or light pants: I rotate depending on trail conditions. Shorts feel amazing—until you’re walking through a patch of thorny brush that hates your existence.
- Shoes: Trail runners. If I wear boots in the summer, I end up feeling like my feet are being slow-cooked.
- Accessories: Big dumb floppy hat. Sunglasses I’ll probably sit on later.
Pro tip: bring extra socks. Nothing feels better than swapping into dry socks halfway through a sweaty hike. It’s like pressing a reset button on your soul.
And sunscreen. So much sunscreen. Because nothing screams “rookie hiker” like a backpack-shaped sunburn.
Fall: aka “Pumpkin Spice and Unpredictable Weather”
Fall hiking is hands-down my favorite. Crisp air, crunchy leaves, no swarms of bugs trying to crawl into your nose holes. But—it’s also the season where I once started a hike in 70-degree sunshine and ended it in a mini snowstorm.
Fall gear that keeps me from freezing:
- Layers, layers, layers. (I sound like your mom nagging about a jacket, but seriously, layers.)
- A base tee or long-sleeve.
- A fleece or hoodie.
- A lightweight jacket just in case things go sideways.
- Bottoms: Hiking pants. Bonus points if they’ve got pockets big enough for snacks.
- Shoes: Still rocking my waterproof boots because fall trails are sneaky with puddles.
This is also when I start packing gloves, because there’s nothing worse than trying to eat trail mix with numb fingers. Except maybe dropping your trail mix in the dirt and watching a squirrel steal it. (Happened. I swear the squirrel smirked at me.)
Winter: aka “The Character-Building Season”
I’ll be real: winter hiking separates the “I kinda like nature” folks from the “I might actually be part mountain goat” crowd. It’s beautiful—quiet, peaceful, snow that sparkles like it was designed by Pixar animators—but if you’re not dressed right, it’s straight-up misery.
What saves me from turning into an icicle:
- Base layer: Merino wool or synthetic. Basically, something warm that doesn’t stay wet.
- Mid-layer: Fleece, down, or sometimes both if it’s below freezing.
- Outer shell: Waterproof, windproof jacket that makes me look like an overstuffed marshmallow.
- Bottoms: Insulated pants or just layering leggings under my hiking pants.
- Shoes: Insulated boots. Bonus: microspikes if there’s ice. (I learned the hard way that sliding down a trail on your butt isn’t as fun as sledding.)
- Accessories: Hat, gloves, neck gaiter. The works.
True story: one time I forgot gloves. I ended up hiking with socks on my hands like a feral child. It worked, but I got some looks.
Random Tips No One Tells You (But Should)
- Bring more layers than you think. You can always take stuff off. You can’t invent a jacket out of thin air.
- Socks matter more than shoes. Seriously. A good pair of wool socks is worth its weight in gold.
- Don’t wear jeans. Ever. I don’t care if they make your butt look good—wet denim is the devil.
- Be prepared to smell weird. Hiking clothes don’t exactly scream “fresh.” Just embrace it.
Wrapping It Up (kinda, because I’m rambling): What to Wear Hiking in Every Season
So yeah. That’s my unpolished, slightly chaotic take on what to wear hiking in every season. You don’t need to look like some catalog model with $800 worth of gear. Half the time my hiking “fit” is cobbled together from thrift store finds, hand-me-down jackets, and one pair of socks I guard like treasure.
At the end of the day, it’s about being comfortable enough that you can actually enjoy the hike, instead of spending the whole time thinking about your sweaty back or frozen toes.
And hey, if all else fails? Just pack extra snacks. Nobody remembers what you wore, but everyone remembers who brought the good trail mix.
Outbound Link Suggestions:
- Funny hiking mishaps blog: Tales of Trail Fails
- Pop culture nod: Parks and Rec “Camping Episode”


































