October 20th 2020 was the day that my sweet dog Lucy passed away. It was also the day I bought this game.
I was awoken by my parents around 6 to come and see her, and by my father's tone I could tell things were not good. She was still breathing when I went to her, so I rushed to get her into the car, and my dad and I drove to the nearest emergency vet to try and save her. It was almost as soon as they had wheeled her in that we got the call: she was gone. She was 13 and had lived a long, happy life, but her death was sudden and without the time necessary to properly say goodbye. As death often feels, it felt profoundly unfair. We decided to cremate her, and after hugging and kissing her for the last time, we drove home.
Upon arriving home, I began to grieve. Hugging, sobbing, cursing the whims of fate; I was entirely distraught. I knew I needed to do something to take my mind off of it, to allow me to better reflect on what had happened, so after allowing myself to cry the tears within me at the moment I decided to find a game to play. I thought of Spiritfarer (hopefully thats how it was spelled) but that seemed far too much for me to deal with at that moment, and then I remembered hearing people gush about a little game called A Short Hike. From the title, the pictures and what I had heard about it, it seemed like just the thing to cheer me up, so I bought it, installed it, and opened it right away.
A Short Hike is very much just what the title proclaims it to be: A Short Hike. Playing as a young bird named Claire, you make your way up to Hawk Peak in the pursuit of cellphone reception. Along the way you will meet a cast of infinitely charming characters, who will task you with mundane requests and trivial missions. This would normally be read as a criticism in reference to a game, but it is part of what makes A Short Hike so charming. Most of the things people ask you to do aren't entirely necessary and are never difficult, but are so enjoyable to do because of the way they make you feel a part of this quaint, beautiful world. The dialogue is funny in a wonderfully natural way, never too overt or ham-fisted, just naturally humorous, and alongside the context create the wonderful characters. The graphics are beautiful in a sort of nintendo, animal-crossy, colorful and playful way. All of this comes together to create a truly warm and inviting gameplay experience that is just pure joy. The game doesn't force a huge, overarching meaning onto itself or you, and doesn't exude any sense of self-importance. It's just, nice.
After about 45 minutes of playing, I heard my mom call to me that she had made something for breakfast. I walked out of my room, and we hugged and talked about Lucy again. I felt the tears begin to well up a bit, but it wasn't as much as earlier. I loved that dog to death, and the last thing she would have wanted was for me to be sad. I grabbed some food, and went back to playing the game. After a little less than two hours, I had climbed the mountain, bought my cool hat, and had done everything I had wanted to do in the game, so I closed it and came here to write the review that had been swimming in my head.
My experience with this is inherently and deeply personal, and is not indicative of the purpose of this game. You don't have to lose someone you love in order to connect with this. Even without the emotional attachment I created, I can still see the value and beauty of this fun little game. It is a well refined burst of pure enjoyment, and for only 8 bucks plus an hour or two of your time, I cannot recommend it enough. But for me, it will always be more. For two hours on one of the worst days in my short life, I was able to smile, even chuckle, and stave off the dark sadness that was eager to swallow me whole.
I used to take Lucy for little walks most days, down to the mailbox down towards the end of the road. She would smile, and it made me happy. I think I'm gonna go do that.
Thanks for reading.

October 20th 2020 was the day that my sweet dog Lucy passed away. It was also the day I bought this game. I was awoken by my parents around 6 to come and see her, and by my father's tone I could tell things were not good. She was still breathing when I went to her, so I rushed to get her into the car, and my dad and I drove to the nearest emergency vet to try and save her. It was almost as soon as they had wheeled her in that we got the call: she was gone. She was 13 and had lived a long, happy life, but her death was sudden and without the time necessary to properly say goodbye. As death often feels, it felt profoundly unfair. We decided to cremate her, and after hugging and kissing her for the last time, we drove home. Upon arriving home, I began to grieve. Hugging, sobbing, cursing the whims of fate; I was entirely distraught. I knew I needed to do something to take my mind off of it, to allow me to better reflect on what had happened, so after allowing myself to cry the tears within me at the moment I decided to find a game to play. I thought of Spiritfarer (hopefully thats how it was spelled) but that seemed far too much for me to deal with at that moment, and then I remembered hearing people gush about a little game called A Short Hike. From the title, the pictures and what I had heard about it, it seemed like just the thing to cheer me up, so I bought it, installed it, and opened it right away. A Short Hike is very much just what the title proclaims it to be: A Short Hike. Playing as a young bird named Claire, you make your way up to Hawk Peak in the pursuit of cellphone reception. Along the way you will meet a cast of infinitely charming characters, who will task you with mundane requests and trivial missions. This would normally be read as a criticism in reference to a game, but it is part of what makes A Short Hike so charming. Most of the things people ask you to do aren't entirely necessary and are never difficult, but are so enjoyable to do because of the way they make you feel a part of this quaint, beautiful world. The dialogue is funny in a wonderfully natural way, never too overt or ham-fisted, just naturally humorous, and alongside the context create the wonderful characters. The graphics are beautiful in a sort of nintendo, animal-crossy, colorful and playful way. All of this comes together to create a truly warm and inviting gameplay experience that is just pure joy. The game doesn't force a huge, overarching meaning onto itself or you, and doesn't exude any sense of self-importance. It's just, nice. After about 45 minutes of playing, I heard my mom call to me that she had made something for breakfast. I walked out of my room, and we hugged and talked about Lucy again. I felt the tears begin to well up a bit, but it wasn't as much as earlier. I loved that dog to death, and the last thing she would have wanted was for me to be sad. I grabbed some food, and went back to playing the game. After a little less than two hours, I had climbed the mountain, bought my cool hat, and had done everything I had wanted to do in the game, so I closed it and came here to write the review that had been swimming in my head. My experience with this is inherently and deeply personal, and is not indicative of the purpose of this game. You don't have to lose someone you love in order to connect with this. Even without the emotional attachment I created, I can still see the value and beauty of this fun little game. It is a well refined burst of pure enjoyment, and for only 8 bucks plus an hour or two of your time, I cannot recommend it enough. But for me, it will always be more. For two hours on one of the worst days in my short life, I was able to smile, even chuckle, and stave off the dark sadness that was eager to swallow me whole. I used to take Lucy for little walks most days, down to the mailbox down towards the end of the road. She would smile, and it made me happy. I think I'm gonna go do that. Thanks for reading.