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King Juan Carlos, at right, stands with his guide from Rann Safaris as his dead Botswanan elephant lies propped against a tree.

The king of Spain visited Botswana recently, and on the famous savanna, teeming with animals familiar from the picture books we read as youths, King Juan Carlos shot and killed an elephant.

When I heard about the king’s outing, I decided to learn a little more about Botswana’s laws governing the protection—or lack thereof—of Africa’s most famous creatures. It turns out that many of them can be lawfully killed for those who buy the privilege. According to the website of Rann Safaris, the hunting outfit that guided King Carlos (who happens to be the honorary president of the Spanish branch of the World Wildlife Fund) it takes $6,000 to shoot a leopard. For $1,200, you can shoot a crocodile. For the pleasure of killing a hyena, you must turn over only $500. For a rhino, sorry, you’ll have to visit South Africa. But if you’re content to shoot an ostrich, stay on in Botswana, where the permits will run you $550. Short on cash? Then there’s always baboons, which go for a paltry $200 a pop. And to shoot the greatest land animal on the planet, the one that lives in matriarchal herds and mourns somberly when a family member dies, the one that’s been targeted by tusk-seeking machine gunners for decades and which you’d think should be a protected species—to shoot an African elephant, you’ll need to pay $19,000. It’s a princely sum, but nothing for a king.

The world is full of opportunities to shoot at its mightiest creatures, whether they’re good to eat or not, and here are just several animals that some of us would love to see and photograph—and that some people just want on the rec room wall.

Sharks. There’s nothing politically correct about shark fin soup, but an annual killing contest goes on in Martha’s Vineyard, where hundreds of sport fishermen gather every July to compete in the Annual Oak Bluffs Monster Shark Tournament. The event’s website states that 98 percent of sharks caught in the derby are released (a change from prior years), but there are prize incentives to bring the largest fish in to the dock, where crowds gather expectantly to see dead and bloody “monsters” hoisted at the weigh station. Last year, the biggest sharks landed and killed included 630-pound and 538-pound thresher sharks, a 495-pound porbeagle and a 278-pound mako. In 2005 a fisherman took a tiger shark weighing 1,191 pounds.

Big cats. The African lion has declined in numbers from possibly 100,000 in the early 1990s to a current population estimated to be as low as 16,000 individuals. Yet hunting of this vulnerable species is legal in parts of Africa. By some reports, in fact, the number of lions killed by licensed trophy hunters each year is on the rise. In California, cougar hunting was banned in 1990—so when a member of the state’s Fish and Game Commission got the urge to kill one this January, he went to Idaho, where hunting the cats is legal. The hunter, Dan Richards, posed gleefully with the cougar in his arms, sparking an explosion of anger among animal rights activists and trophy hunting critics. The controversy centered on the question of whether a man charged with, among other things, protecting cougars in one state should go and hunt them in another. Richards pointed out that he and his friends ate cougar the evening after the hunt—an excuse often voiced by trophy hunters. If you want to put food on the table, shoot a rabbit or a deer—but please, not a top predator.

Dan Richards, of the California Fish and Game Commission, went out of state to shoot this Idaho mountain lion.

Bears. They reportedly taste vile if they’ve been feeding on salmon or marine mammals, but that doesn’t stop Alaskan hunters from killing brown bears. In fact, these animals usually aren’t eaten—just skinned and beheaded, as Alaska state law requires. Alaskan black bears, too, are often killed only for wall mounts. The state, to its credit, prohibits one from using the meat of a game animal for purposes other than human consumption, yet exceptions are generously granted to bear hunters, who can at certain times of the year (like during salmon runs) use a black bear’s flesh as pet food, fertilizer or bait. (For wolves and wolverines, the meat does not need to be used at all.) Elsewhere in the world, bear hunters sometimes participate in controversial “canned hunts“—such as the one in 2006 in which King Juan Carlos, our mighty elephant hunter, shot a tame, drunk Russian brown bear named Mitrofan, who was fed honey and vodka prior to being prodded into an open field, where the crowned noble had an easy shot. Even imperiled polar bears are still legally hunted for trophies.

Baboons. I’m almost reluctant to discuss this one, so similar are the animals to us and so grisly the nature of this hunt, but the fact that men and women shoot baboons for kicks needs recognition. Landowners consider baboons pests in some places and welcome trophy hunters, who often use bows to kill the primates. The animals are known to react dramatically when hit, and—much like a human might—a baboon will scream and holler as it tussles with the shaft protruding from its torso. Even hardened hunters reportedly grow queasy at the sight of a skewered baboon panicked with fear. If you have the stomach for it, look through this Google gallery of “baboon hunting” images, showing proud hunters with their trophy kills, or for some less graphic insight into the minds of the people who would kill baboons for the joy of it, read through this baboon hunting discussion. Here is a sample from the conversation: “Seems kinda twisted but given the chance I’d shoot one. Cool trophy.” And: “Good Luck, Hope ya get one. My next time back I’d like to kill one as well.” Someone get me a bucket.

Wolves. While this top predator reproduces relatively rapidly and can be naturally resilient to some level of persecution, sport hunting the gray wolf still stinks. To justify the hunt, wolf hunters describe the animals as having negative effects on deer and elk herds. In the Rocky Mountain states, where wolves were reintroduced in the 1990s, they are already being hunted again. Some wolves are baited into shooting range, others pursued via snowmobile, and in a few places wolves are shot from airplanes—like on the Kenai Peninsula, where a government predator control program is drawing fire from wolf allies. Wolf pelts, not the flesh, are the goal of the game, though cast members of the film The Grey reportedly ate wolf stew in order to prepare for a scene in which the actors, including Liam Neeson, would pretend to dine on wolf meat. Most of the cast vomited during their meal, donated by a local wolf trapper, though Neeson returned for seconds.

More top targets of the trophy hunter’s hit list:

Billfish. Anglers may eat sailfish sashimi or braised marlin, but let’s keep things real: These fish die for their swords.

And crocodiles for their hides.

And walrus for their tusks.

And hippopotamus for … honestly, I really can’t imagine.

This just in: King Juan Carlos has publicly apologized for killing his elephant. “I am very sorry,” he told the press on April 18. “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.” Sure, now that he’s got his tusks.

Hikers on the Annapurna Circuit trail file upward toward Thorung La Pass at over 17,000 feet. Photo courtesy of Flickr user benoit_d

This world was made for walking, and so were people—and one blog post is hardly enough to do justice to the subject of great trails. So, after Tuesday’s listing of a few of the world’s greatest trails, I’m revisiting the topic to include several more routes worth walking.

New Zealand South to North. “Tramping” New Zealand from its most southerly place, at Slope Point, to its most northerly point, at Cape Reinga, is a thought that breezes through the minds of many travelers as they peruse their Kiwi maps—and a few people take the notion into action. I met several Americans during my recent travels in New Zealand who were spending as long as six months making this journey. The preferred route seems to include Nelson Lakes National Park, Arthur’s Pass National Park and the spine of the Southern Alps, keeping a walker in the high-country wilderness, virtually free of roads or people, for hundreds of miles. This walk crosses more than 10 degrees of latitude between the subtropical north, where the waters are lukewarm and home to marlin and other tropical fishes, to the frigid south, where the cold and rough weather is the stark signature of Antarctica. If your boss won’t give you half a year’s leave, then consider any of the Great Walks of New Zealand—marked trails which, for better or for worse, are highly regulated and managed.

Continental Divide Trail. One of America’s great long-distance trails, the Continental Divide bisects the country between Mexico and Canada. It runs 3,100 miles and traverses desert plateau, prairie and the Rocky Mountains. Only 70 percent of the trail is usable, however, and in many places erosion, development and road-building threaten the sanctity of this long, long walk. As on the Appalachian and Pacific Crest trails, black bears occur the length of the Continental Divide Trail and can add an element of excitement to each night, when food must be hung from a tree or, better, stuffed into a bear canister. Along the northern reaches of the trail, hikers are likely to encounter moose and elk, with the ever-present possibility of seeing those most legendary creatures of the North American wild West—the grizzly bear and the wolf.

Lycian Way. The Lycians lived on what is now called the Tekke Peninsula of southwest Turkey, establishing a culture influenced by the Greeks and eventually smothered by those lovely Romans. Today, a 320-mile walking trail bisects the heart of old Lycia, running from Antalya to Fethiye through some of Turkey’s most classic coastal scenery. Great mountains rocket upward from the subtropical Mediterranean coast into altitudes of almost two miles. Hikers will find plenty of ups and downs, plus ruins of the Lycian era. Pensions and lodges are available, but camping out is easily done, accepted by locals and, in parts of the high country wilderness, necessary. When to go? Mid-winter is chilly, but by spring the weather is mild. Mid-summer is sweltering, but by fall the days are balmy, the sea temperatures bathtub warm and the figs and pomegranates spilling from the trees. Now, the problem with Turkey is that’s it’s so darn big and full of wonders. In the far east, travelers find tremendous potential for high adventure, though care should be taken to avoid politically unstable regions. The Kaçkar Mountains, abutting the eastern Black Sea coast, are an alpine area crisscrossed with trails and populated by brown bears and wolves. In the northwest, the Sultan’s Trail begins in Istanbul and leads all the way to Vienna.

Brown bear tracks preserved in a concreted portion of a trail in the Kaçkar Moutains remind hikers that, in this wild corner of northeast Turkey, they don't walk alone. Photo by Alastair Bland

Annapurna Circuit

Trails may occasionally cross the 3,000- foot altitude mark in New Zealand, while in Turkey’s Toros Mountains passes of 7,000 feet and more can be expected. In the Alps and the Rockies, the lowest point between two peaks is commonly a lofty and chilly 10,000 feet above the sea—but even that’s nothing compared to the heights of the the Himalayas. On the Annapurna Circuit, trekkers must be in top shape and with a healthy set of lungs, for the air is thin at altitudes of more than 15,000 feet—and the scenic views unmatched almost anywhere else. Hikers will pass close to the 26,545-foot Annapurna and the 26,810-foot Dhauligiri, among other tremendous peaks. The route runs 186 miles along ancient inter-village footpaths and trade routes. The trail hits a high point at Thorung La of 17,768 feet, and the whole thing can be completed in 15 to 20 days. Unfortunately, the route is heavily used, and tourist infrastructure has taken root along much of the way. Free camping is feasible, but many hikers seem to feel it’s a superfluous effort to camp when so many lodges and tea houses are available. Kind of kills the spirit of raw adventure, I think.

Australian Bicentennial Trail

From tropical crocodile habitat in the North Queensland rain forests to the temperate wine country of Victoria, and with plenty of snakes in between, this 3,331-mile trail connects the north of Australia to the south via the East Coast of the continent. The trail passes through 18 national parks and provides walkers a representation of the dramatic diversity in wildlife, climate and terrain to be found Down Under. Dogs and motorized vehicles are prohibited, so leave your ATVs and canine companions at home before you spoil the walk for the rest of us. Beware of crocodiles in the north, where swimming in creeks, rivers and swamps may be plain foolery.

Hikers on the Cinque Terre Trail in Italy will skirt their way along spectacular cliffs and some of the most splendid coastline in Europe. Photo courtesy of Flickr user Fernando Stankuns

Talking About Walking

The Inca Trail, the Rim of Africa Trail, the Cinque Terre Trail in Italy and so many others around the world far exceed what I can describe here. Please list other hikes below, whether long or short, wild or even semi-urban, that deserve mention. Finally, I finish with several fine quotes from men and women who touted the virtues of walking and its benefits for community, body and soul.

“Thoughts come clearly while one walks.” —Thomas Mann

“My father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing.” —Aldous Huxley.

“All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.” —Friedrich Nietzsche

“Walking is man’s best medicine.” —Hippocrates

“There is nothing like walking to get the feel of a country. A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo. Even a bicycle goes too fast.” —Paul Scott Mowrer

“The best remedy for a short temper is a long walk.” —Jacqueline Schiff

“A dog is one of the remaining reasons why some people can be persuaded to go for a walk.” —O.A. Battista

Sue Macy's Wheels of Change

Sue Macy‘s elaborately illustrated 2011 book, Wheels of Change: How Women Rode the Bicycle to Freedom (With a Few Flat Tires Along the Way), describes the surprising role that the bicycle played in freeing women—both physically and spiritually—from the oppressive and conservative constraints of 19^th century America. Bicycles at the time were clumsy, heavy things made of iron and wood and sometimes called “boneshakers” until rubber tires softened the ride. But men were getting a kick out of them, and women wanted in on the fun. Their clothing was a problem, as Macy points out:

Imagine a population imprisoned by their very clothing; the stiff corsets, heavy skirts, and voluminous petticoats that made it difficult to take a deep breath, let alone exercise…How suffocated women must have felt. And how liberated they must have been as they pedaled their wheels toward new horizons.

To efficiently ride a bike there was only one thing to do: Take it off. Skin-tight lycra and tube tops were still some years down the road, but women were, at last, freed from the ridiculous layers that had physically anchored them to house, porch and trimmed Victorian lawn for ages. They swung their legs over the frames of their bikes and pedaled off on adventures, often with male companions. Macy tells of one bitter curmudgeon named Charlotte Smith who said in 1896 that “the alarming increase of immorality among young women in the United States” was a product of the bicycle. Smith also said that the bicycle was “the devil’s advance agent morally and physically.”

Other people, Macy tells us, saw the virtues of the bicycle.

“A girl who rides a wheel is lifted out of herself and her surroundings,” declared one Ellen B. Parkhurst. “She is made to breathe purer air, see fresher and more beautiful scenes, and get an amount of exercise she would not get otherwise.”

(Sounds like Parkhurst had the spirit of a bike tourist.)

The bicycle impacted the world in measurable ways in the 1890s. Cigar sales took a nosedive, Macy reports, as the collective preoccupation with cycling replaced smoking in stodgy reading rooms. Use of morphine, popular at the time as a sleep inducer, declined as people discovered how a little vigorous exercise could induce relaxation and sleep. Pastors and priests even observed that church attendance began dropping as more people opted to spend their Sundays jerseyed up, sipping off their CamelBaks and shredding sweet singletrack.

Well, riding bikes, anyway.

Cycling, unarguably, was fun, and voices of the conservative naysayers were drowned out as the American bicycle industry exploded. For instance, 17 manufacturers and a 40,000-bike output in 1890 increased to 126 manufacturers and the production of nearly a half million bicycles in 1895. Already, in fact, bike builders were customizing designs to accommodate women.

It was official: Ladies were on board. Critical mass had been reached, and there seemed to be no stopping the craze.

Some women engaged in competitions that lasted days as they pedaled hundreds of miles around oval tracks. For other women, just cycling somewhere, anywhere, was enough—and they began touring. In 1894, Annie Londonderry rode 1,300 miles between New Hampshire and Chicago. Later she would travel by boat and bicycle around the world, finishing with a ride from San Francisco to Chicago. Macy doesn’t tell us if lionhearted Londonderry camped out, how much weight she lost, what was the highest pass that she tackled, if she ever ran out of food or if she saw grizzly bears out West, but adventurous spirits, plainly, were taking flight.

Macy’s book ends abruptly and with a sad shocker: The bicycle craze curled up and died, for the automobile had been born. “By the turn of the century,” Macy writes, “the bicycle’s heyday was over and a new mechanical wonder promised to transport men and women faster and farther than ever before.” Great. Cars, traffic and suburbia were coming. But on bicycles, women had gained a huge spurt of momentum in gaining basic rights, and so they stepped off their bikes, straightened their dresses and went off to pursue other liberties.

Free at Last: This Sicilian, touring in Greece, may owe her liberty to the women's independence movement of the 1890s, described in Sue Macy's Wheels of Change.

In another book published this year, It’s All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels, the history of the bicycle goes on into the 20^th century. The book is author Robert Penn’s account of his personal quest to find the perfect bicycle. Along the way he describes some of the same history of which Sue Macy writes. For example, Penn adds to our growing accumulation of bike trivia that Annie Londonderry carried a revolver in her saddlebag. What a lady! But mostly, Penn tells the history of the machine and the development of its many components—complex products of engineering that today allow us to scale mountains, freewheel back down, stop on a dime, keep at it for hours without getting a sore rear end, and so on. He talks frames, wheels, saddles, gears, hubs, derailleurs and chains. He looks at fixed-gear bikes, road bikes, mountain bikes and hand-built bikes so dashing that it seems foolish even to ride them. He chitchats with bike builders who are constantly pushing the improvement of every nook, cranny and corner of the bicycle.

Penn recalls for us, too, a great Ernest Hemingway quote that every cycle tourist should know: “It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them…you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through.” And I’d always taken Hemingway for the sort who just writes short sentences in Parisian cafes. Seems he would have made a fine touring partner.

In one humorous encounter in a Welsh village, where Penn had just moved in, he describes the locals’ inability to comprehend why a man would choose to ride a bike unless he had to. In a pub one evening, a fellow asks Penn if he had lost his driver’s license. Penn tells the man that he simply loves riding and does so by choice. A year later in the same pub, the same man takes Penn aside once more.

“‘I see yor on the bike still, boy,’ he said. ‘A long time to be banned now, see. You can tell me…did you daw something tehr-ribble in a car? Did you kill a child?’”

We’re reminded that many people still regard the bicycle as a toy and by no means a valid form of transportation. But, as Penn writes, “The cultural status of the bicycle is rising again…In fact, there is a whisper that we might today be at the dawn of a new golden age of the bicycle.”