Another challenge, for Ms. Kelly at least, was getting stragglers to pick up the pace as we continued our hike, which was really more of a fast walk on mostly flat terrain. Mr. Kipp said that many people signed up with friends, and that Hiking Yoga was meant to be more social than a studio class, but all that talking meant we were often not really hustling along the trails. Ms. Kelly told me on the phone afterward that she tried to adapt to the energy level of the group, as well as to everything else going on in the park.

Our second stop was on a hill overlooking a crowded field of picnickers, dogwalkers and ballplayers; I mentioned to Ms. Kelly later that I found that location too busy and distracting.

“For 80 percent of the hike we take you to out-of-the-way spots,” she pointed out. “But the moments when there’s a dog barking or someone hitting a baseball, that’s a great opportunity to integrate focus into your practice.”

I started to feel a bit like Goldilocks as I evaluated the places we stopped to do yoga — too much of a slope, too many tree roots, too much tall grass in need of a mower — but at the same time, I enjoyed the change of scenery and the chance to practice yoga in the open air.

Ms. Kelly had brought along a backpack full of cut-up pieces of yoga mat, so at our third destination (in the grassy Nethermead) we did sun salutations with these little mats under our hands. We also did some partner exercises, which was a way to mingle a bit — and try balancing poses without the benefit of a wall.

My favorite spot was our last stop, on the peninsula jutting into the lake. Yes, we still had to brush sticks and stones out of the way before laying down our little mats. The ground was uneven, and birds interrupted the silence as we closed our eyes and did more stretching and a little meditation. But the setting was peaceful, the tree branches rustled overhead, and I could feel myself relaxing.