Q&A: Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: The AT in November, Tennessee)

Sitting at my computer to write about backpacking helps get me through winter, so I'm happy to report that Victor has more questions about his upcoming thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. His adventure will begin March 28th, 2013. Follow his progress at BackpackingAT.com.

VM: Okay, so now that I am in Chicago for the next month and have survived two blizzards with names already, I have been thinking a lot about the snow... Rumor has it we may encounter snow for the first couple of weeks and the last couple of weeks during our hike. Granted it's just frozen rain, but what things should we prepare for (mentally, physically, and with gear,) in terms of making sure we are ready to handle this type of weather?

RG: You will likely have to hike in some snow and sleep in freezing temperatures, but since you're hiking the AT from April to August, you’ll probably miss all the heavy stuff.

The weather usually turns mild in the Smokies by mid-April. It can snow at high altitudes any time of year in New Hampshire and Maine, but their heavy snow doesn't usually fall before October.

That said, you don't need a blizzard to be concerned about the weather. Hypothermia, for example, is a concern even above freezing temperatures. Know the signs and begin your hike with warmer gear than you think you'll need. It's always best to err on the side of caution in the beginning. Don't worry about the end of your trip right now, because once you made it all the way to New Hampshire, you'll know what to do.

Even though you'll miss the heavy snow season, you'll still have your fair share of nasty weather. It’s inevitable on such a long trip. You don’t have the luxury of choosing the most pleasant time of year to be in a particular area.

There were downpours in Maine and New Hampshire that turned the trail into a cascading stream in minutes. I sprinted across mountain balds toward the safety of trees with lightning cracking above my head. We hunkered down in a high mountain shelter while Hurricane Irene decimated the small towns down river. Floods from Tropical Storm Lee knocked down footbridges which forced me to wade through knee-high water and slog through thick mud that threatened to suck the shoes off my feet.

(Photo: Frozen shoe)

By December in the Smokies, it got so cold that after I accidentally stepped in a creek hidden under snow and ice, my shoestrings froze instantly. When I got to the shelter, I had to grasp them in my fists to thaw them out before I could take my shoes off my stinging cold feet.

Surprisingly, I love all of those experiences. They are all  part of the adventure. Anyway, it's not the short-term extreme weather that has the most potential to crush your morale on the AT. It's the long stretches of unrelenting rain, especially when it's cold.

The good news is there is a lot you can do to keep spirits high. My first tip probably seems a bit obvious:

Check the forecast every few days...

Sixteen miles into our day on the Long Trail in Vermont, Red and I stopped at a shelter for water. The forecast said nasty weather was coming our way. We filled our bottles in a creek then sat in the shelter to eat a quick snack. 

The sky was dark even though we had two hours until sunset. A light sprinkle started to fall and thunder rolled overhead. 

“So what do you think?”

By this point, we could read each other’s minds well enough to leave the next question unspoken, “Do we stay here or head to the next shelter?” It was six miles away and nine to the next road. 

It was cold and we hadn't seen two consecutive days without rain in two weeks. My injured knee ached worse than ever. Needless to say, my morale was low.

I wanted to stop for the night, but the forecast said the worst of the storm would begin at midnight and continue through the following day. There would be high winds and heavy rain until temperatures dropped below freezing. By morning, there would be sleet, ice, and possibly snow. It was too late to get to the road before dark and even though hitching is easy during the day, nobody has ever offered to pick me up at night. 

“If we go to the next shelter, we’ll only have three miles to hike in the morning then we can wait it out in town.”

So that’s what we did. Since we knew the forecast, we were able to avoid the worst of the weather and get our spirits back up. If I'm remembering this right, we ended up staying with someone in a social house at Burlington University during pledge week.

That leads me to my second bit of advice:

Treat morale as though it needs to be nurtured as much as health and hunger.

(Photo: Lightfoot's Frozen Beard, October in Virginia)

Thinking of the number of miles you have to Maine can be daunting at times, especially in bad weather. Try to only focus on getting to the next resupply town. And remember that on such a long trail, nothing stays the same very long. The terrain and weather could be different the next day. Here are a few other ways to help morale on the trail:

• Carry an extra day of food if bad weather could be headed your way. You may want to have the option to take a day off or wait out a morning rain storm.

• Hitch into town. If a long stretch of rain or cold weather has you down, drying your clothes in a laundromat then eating a hot meal can go a long way to turning that around. Actually when you're living a deprived life on the trail, simple things like that can turn a horrible mood into a deliriously happy one.

• Share misery with others. Bad weather is a lot easier to deal with when you're sitting in a shelter at the end of the day sharing it with others. It usually just turns into something to laugh at.

• Sing as you hike like nobody can hear you. There is a good chance nobody can anyway, especially during a hard rain. I sang a lot on the trail. My playlist often included Driting by Pearl Jam, King of the Road by Roger Miller, Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show, and for some reason Fat-Bottom Girls by Queen.

• Listen to music on your phone or MP3 player. It has the power to get you up the next mountain or just take your mind off of pain and discomfort. On a bad day, sometimes I listened to a storytelling podcast like This American Life, The Moth, or NPR's Snap Judgement.

• Build a campfire.

• Pack plenty of comfort food. If you're not looking forward to another pot of ramen noodles at the end of the day, your food can do very little to put you in a better mood.

• Change your gear. If it isn't cutting it or not keeping you warm enough, there are many outfitters along the trail. Of course, it's always best to avoid gear issues before you head to Springer, so here are some suggestions:

Gear

In the beginning, if you're not sure what you'll need to stay warm enough, pack extra. You can always send unneeded gear home later or leave it in a hiker box. Being cold is worse than a pack that is one or two pounds heavier, in my opinion.

Clothing

The first commandment of backpacking is, “Thou Shalt Not Wear Cotton.” Many inexperienced backpackers have come down a mountain with that commandment metaphorically chiseled in stone. Cotton gets heavy when wet and takes forever to dry.

(Photo: Bandanna as a scarf)

Dress in layers. Your hiker smell will bring tears to people's eyes, so why not dress like an onion too? This will make it easier to regulate your body temperature. I wear merino wool thermals under my regular hiking clothes, and an insulated vest or fleece over that. A quality rain jacket and rain pants are a must in cold weather, too. They won't necessarily keep you dry, but they will help a lot by blocking the wind. I also carry a pair of gloves, sock hat, and I a couple bandannas that I used like scarves to keep my face warm and prevent snow and wind from getting down my shirt collar.

One final thing about clothes, never let yourself sweat that much in cold weather. Sweat can kill if the temperature is low enough. It's far better to shed a few layers of clothing before you begin hiking, even if you're a little bit cold at first.

Waterproof Stuff Sacks and Bag Liners

On our second day, a fellow thru-hiker slipped while fording our first river in Maine. His bag went into the water. That's when we learned he didn't have anything waterproofed. His sleeping bag, tent, digital camera, and all of his clothes were soaked. The camera never worked again and that night, while trying to dry his clothes over a fire, he burned holes in his socks, shoes, and sleeping bag. To his credit, this seemed to have no negative effect on his mood, but it could have been easily avoided.

I use a trash compactor bag as a pack liner (click here) and keep my sleeping bag in a waterproof stuff sack for added protection. My camera and other sensitive gear is stored in Ziploc bags. I don't bother with a pack rain cover anymore. I find them to be quite useless except for protecting your backpack while bushwhacking.

Sleeping Bag

If you're cold at night, consider replacing your sleeping bag or buying a sleeping bag liner.The latter will only add 5-10 degrees of warmth, but has other benefits as well (click here). For me, sleeping bag temperature ratings are about 15 degrees lower than what I find comfortable, but it's different for everyone.

Wet feet

Hiking for days with wet feet is not fun, to say the least. I usually carry three pairs of socks, so I can be sure to have a dry pair at the end of the day and in the morning. One of the three is a pair of toe sock liners that I wear when my feet get wet. Wet socks chafe the tops of my toes until they have been rubbed painfully raw. That was one of my biggest foot issues on the AT. The toe sock liners eliminated this problem.

You will ford a few rivers and creeks, especially in the north. Since it might be cold when you're up there, consider packing a pair of lightweight shoes to ford in like Crocs. Going barefoot in some of these boulder-filled creek beds is a broken ankle waiting to happen and you don't want to soak your only pair of hiking boots on a cold day. Crocs are cheap, light, and available in many stores along the way.

Daytime temperatures never dropped very far below 25 degrees when I was on the AT, so I never really had cold feet until I got to camp. It doesn't take long to realize how cold it is once you stop moving and nightime temperatures got as low as 15 degrees. It's good to have a dry pair of socks ready to put on.

Drying Your Socks

Before bed, I dry out the wet pair by first wringing them out as best I can. I spread a camp towel out on the ground, put my socks on top, and then roll them up like a burrito... a repulsive, smelly burrito. Then I squeeze that or walk on it to draw the water out of my socks and into the towel. This works best if you carry a super-absorbent camp towel, like this one, or get a shammy at a dollar store to save money. Finally, put the damp socks in your sleeping bag at night and your body heat will dry them out by morning.

Gaiters

Gaiters can help keep snow out of your shoes, but I have never bothered with them. My friend Lightfoot had some success by just tying his bandannas around the tops of his shoes and ankles. They'll still get wet, but they'll keep the bulk of the snow out. It helps to have a couple safety pins to secure them. Bandannas are one of the most versatile things you can carry and I also use the safety pins to pin wet clothes to the outside of my pack or to a clothesline to dry.

Waterproof Boots

I personally avoid waterproof boots or shoes. I can see their utility in more extreme conditions, but when you're hiking all day in the snow or rain, your feet will get wet no matter what shoes you wear. If not with rain water, than with sweat. Waterproof boots can also take longer to dry, so I think it's better to just go with shoes that dry quickly.

Other tips for Dry Feet

My friends Sam and Liv showed me that newspaper stuffed into a wet shoe overnight will help dry it out. The paper also works as fire starter and I suppose reading the news, but the news really doesn't belong out there.

You can put a plastic grocery bag, or even better a bread or tortilla bag, between two layers of socks to keep your feet dry and warm. Not a great solution for hiking all day since it doesn't allow your foot to breath, but it works well at camp or when hiking short distances. If one of those socks is a thin sock liner, it will keep your shoes from being too tight.

You can do the same with a pair of latex gloves under your regular gloves.

(Photo: Slippery Trail)

Hiking on Snow and Ice

Hiking in snow is considerably more exhausting since it is harder to get traction. Consequently, when planning your day, expect to either hike longer or hike shorter distances.

Trekking Poles 

Although an ice ax and crampons are not needed during April and August on the AT, some sections could be hazardous when covered in ice or snow. This is why I recommend trekking poles. They also help you move quicker over snow and ice.

(Photo: The AT in Late-October, Virginia)

Other suggestions

Pack a hot beverage. It can warm you up quite a bit before bed. In cold weather I think I enjoy the  steaming hot mug in my hands more than the drink itself.

Pack a few hand warmers, just in case. I never used them during the day, but if the cold kept me awake at night, I would place one on my chest or near my feet in my sleeping bag. Just don't fall asleep with them directly on your skin or they could uhh... actually just click here and read this short cautionary tale.

(Photo: The Beard)

When it comes to successfully completing the AT, keeping your spirits up on a miserable day is more important than getting the miles you need that day. As long as you haven't allowed yourself to fall too far behind schedule, you'll make up those miles. Whenever you’re calculating the average miles you need to finish by your deadline, subtract a few days from that date, so you won’t feel rushed toward the end. If you do start thinking about stopping, don't make that decision when you're miserable or you might regret it. Take some time off and make the decision when you're happy, warm, and the sky is blue.

Sorry that was so long, but luckily the extra length means I have room for one more photo. Since I'm talking about snow I'm posting this one of me again. How glorious is that beard? I mean honestly.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Helen Lake

Here is another photo you can download for your computer's desktop. I also took this in Glacier National Park in 2012.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

“The guidebook calls it desolate,” said a passing ranger when I told him where I was headed. “But you be the judge.”

I hiked south along the shore of Elizabeth Lake, passed campsites all occupied with tents, then through wildflowers where butterflies perched. They fluttered about when I passed as though a gust of wind blew the flower petals off and whirled them around me. Beyond Elizabeth Lake, the trail became more overgrown and unkempt.

As I moved forward, I had to part a sea of tall grasses and green leaves that had grown higher than my waist. Much of the trail would have been invisible if not for a depression in the overgrowth leading the way. The head and back of a deer swam by like the world’s most passive crocodile, followed by two fawns barely able to keep their eyes above the green. I wouldn't call the region desolate, though. I prefer overlooked and secluded, two great qualities for a trail to have.

I knew I was close when I began to hear the Belly River, which begins at Helen Lake. I stopped to listen to it with my eyes shut. I absorbed every other sound as well, the beating of insect wings, the wind hissing between branches of pine, three different types of birds chirping: some rapid cheeps, some sporadic elongated whistles.

When I arrived at Helen Lake, I stood at its shore before taking off my pack and setting up camp. I balanced myself on flat rocks to keep the small ripples from soaking my feet and snapped this picture. Lush green hills and the sheer rocky face of Ahern peak, 3,700 feet above me, enclosed the back half of the lake. Ribbons of water from the melting Ahern Glacier fell over and down the mountainside accumulating in the clear blue pool.

Only four extra miles from the crowded Elizabeth Lake campsites to Helen Lake, and I’m all alone. That’s the real reason this site is overlooked and isolated, the extra miles. The solitude was worth every additional step.

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Going to the Sun Road

Here is a free photo you can download for your Windows desktop. I took it in Glacier National Park in 2012. If you're using Internet Explorer or Firefox, just right-click the photo and click "Set as background." Chrome users can download the photo by right-clicking it and selecting, "Save image as."

Prints of this photo can be purchased in my Etsy store.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...
If you're only going to have one road go through the heart of Glacier National Park, it's only fitting if the project is big and the result is stunningly beautiful. This was successfully accomplished in 1932 with the grand opening of the Going-to-the-Sun Road. 

During a three-month road trip out west last summer, I just finished a week backpacking through Glacier National Park. I wasn't looking forward to leaving, but I still had my drive out on the infamous road to look forward to.

Its allure has compelled many filmmakers to shoot footage of the road for their movies. It can be seen in the opening credits of “The Shining,” as Jack is presumably driving to the Overlook Hotel. It also appears in a scene in “Forrest Gump.” When Forest reminisces with Jenny about running across the United States, he says, "Like that mountain lake... it was so clear, Jenny. It looked like there were two skies, one on top of the other." The footage was of him running on the Going-to-the-Sun Road in front of a lake after the sun dropped below the mountains. The sky was that shade of blue that lingers around a bit before turning completely black. A field of golden grasses is swirling around in the wind.

I've seen that movie a dozen times and every time I watched that scene I thought of my own dream of living a nomadic life. I wanted my life to be that simple. Could I find myself in such beautiful places at such the right time?

The road is only 53 miles long, but I stopped so much that dusk loomed with several miles left to drive. I needed one last photo of the sunset. I looked up at the sky anxiously while I drove, waiting for the perfect spot. There wasn't much time left. The road took a bend to the right, then left, and I saw that scene above.

The section of road was under construction, so I parked my beaten down Honda between bulldozers on a makeshift parking lot made for the construction vehicles. I grabbed my camera. Since I felt like I might have been trespassing, I sprinted up the road and through the field until I was standing in a good spot.

I was in the right place, at the right time.

The anxiety of not getting a good photo before sunset melted away. I felt satisfied with the images now hidden away in the camera that I clutched to my chest as I ran back to my car. I drove out of the park that night and headed toward my next adventure.

Q&A: Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: Jeffers Brook Shelter, New Hampshire)

This is my fourth and final question from 2013 Appalachian Trail thru-hiker Victor Maisano. He and his friends will be heading to Springer Mountain in March. Follow their progress at BackpackingAT.com

Shelters Vs. Tents

Victor: We are planning to do this hike in a little over 5 months as all people in our hiking party have obligations right after. With that said, do you think there is an advantage for people who tent the whole trail (vs. sleeping in shelters) as they are able to get a couple more miles of hiking in as there are more places to camp and you’re not as confined to a certain distance?

(Photo: Overmountain Shelter, Tennessee)

Me: First, here is an overview for people unfamiliar with the Appalachian Trail shelters. There are over 260 shelters along the AT (all built by volunteers). Most are three-walled lean-tos similar to the photo above. You will also see some with four walls, a couple are cabins, a few have fireplaces, some have bunk beds (i.e. hiker shelves), one is an old barn, and many you'll want to stay in simply for their uniqueness.

(Photo: Chatfield Memorial Shelter, Virginia)

Most of the shelters have a fire ring, pit toilet, and some kind of water source nearby: a creek, spring, pond, etc. The average distance between shelters is only 8.5 miles, so other than a couple long stretches, they are close enough that you could easily hike the entire Appalachian Trail without a tent.

A few of the shelters in New Hampshire and Vermont have fees, but nearly all of them are free of charge. New Hampshire has some other differences that I’ll talk more about below.

(Photo: The 501 Shelter, Pennsylvania)

Will shelters reduce the number of miles you hike?

Overall, I'd say no. More often than not, they pushed me to go further. If I knew a shelter was only a few more miles ahead, I'd keep going even if I was ready to stop.

I also didn't mind hiking to a shelter well after dark, because I didn't have to worry about finding a campsite and a water source before sundown. You'll also spend less time taking down camp in the morning if you stay in a shelter.

(Photo: Spruce Peak Cabin, Vermont. My favorite Shelter!)

Another reason to stay in shelters is to get to know other thru-hikers. Even though I guarantee you’ll have some snorers, and a few mice, you'll meet a lot of great people in AT shelters. If you’re as lucky as me, you’ll find some of your best friends in there. (I'm talking about you, Drifters. You know who you are.)

There is nothing like the shelter system on the AT, and in my opinion, they are an essential part of the full AT experience.

(Photo: Shelter with a loft in Virginia)

Having said all that, you may want to tent more often in the first couple of weeks. The trail might be crowded for you in the beginning, since a majority of thru-hikers start at Springer Mountain in March. During this time, some hikers will end days early to guarantee a spot in a shelter, and many will end their days earlier at first until they are in better shape and have reduced their pack weight.

It won’t be crowded for long, though. Hikers will eventually put more distance between one another and as many as one-fourth will drop out in the first two weeks.

(Photo: Smoky Mountain Shelter, in Tennessee, with a fireplace)

Another reason to occasionally skip the shelters is that some of your best memories will come from things like cowboy camping under the stars on a treeless mountaintop, spending a night alone deep in the woods, or finding a stealthy place to sleep in a town.

(Photo: Slept behind an abandoned bank in NH)

New Hampshire

New Hampshire has some differences that I wanted to point out. First, don’t plan on hiking through the whole state of New Hampshire without a tent, unless you want to pay. There are numerous campsites, shelters, and huts in New Hampshire that have a fee, primarily around the White Mountains. Although, you don't have to stay at these pay sites. There are plenty of free places to camp, as long as you are below tree line.

(Photo: NH's Zealand Hut)

The hut system in New Hampshire is unique to the AT as well. They are small cabins or lodges in the White Mountains. They can cost over $100 per night, which includes dinner and breakfast, but if you get to one early enough you might be able to do “work-for-stay.”

The caretakers will usually let two to four thru-hikers in the huts for free, as long as you stick around to wash dishes, make beds, sweep the floors, or give a talk to their guests about your experiences on the AT.

(Photo: Red giving a speech for his work-for-stay)

The best part is they’ll also feed you for free. Since the huts are in the middle of protected forests, the caretakers have to carry out all the leftovers. They really don’t want to do that, so they'd prefer to let you eat them. Even if you don’t do work-for-stay, they may give you some leftovers if you stop in and ask. Actually, I met one hiker whose only work-for-stay job was to eat all the ham they had left!

Tips for getting work-for-stay

You can increase your chances of getting work-for-stay if you arrive early, but not too early.  If they think you have enough time to get to the next hut, they'll tell you to keep going. If you get there too late, other thru-hikers will beat you to it. So, lets say, you stop at a hut that is six miles from the next hut. They will probably start accepting work-for-stay two to three hours before sundown.

If there are still four of you in the group when you get to New Hampshire, you will have better luck if you split up into two groups of two. If you don't get work-for-stay, ask them if you can setup camp nearby and at least work for a meal.

The best hut for northbounders to stay at is the Lake of the Clouds hut. It's located at the base of Mount Washington, and the remaining section of trail in the Presidential Range. Since you can't camp above tree line in this area, it's a great place to end your day, so you can easily get through this section by nightfall the following day. The good news is, this hut allows ten hikers to stay in their basement (lovingly called The Dungeon). Additionally, because of its location, northbounders will get dibs.

(Photo: Red doing work-for-stay)

My final tip, if you do get work-for-stay, go out of your way to do a great job and you might be able to guarantee a spot in one of the other huts. The caretakers at the Mizpah Hut gave Red and I the task of shaking the dust out of all their blankets, sweeping the floors afterwards, and then folding the blankets. Two hours later, they told us we worked long enough and could leave, but we insisted on staying until the job was done. Before we left, they asked if we could deliver a sealed note to the next hut.

(Photo: White Mountain Hostel in NH. My favorite hostel anywhere.)

When we arrived, there were already four thru-hikers out front who said the hut was full. Red and I walked in to deliver the note to a caretaker. He read it then looked up and said, “So, do you guys want to stay here tonight?”

Red happened to get a look at the note. It said, “These guys do kick ass work!”

(Photo: Slept in a dugout in Maine)

In Conclusion

So, my recommendation is to mix it up. Experience it all. Stay in shelters, setup camps next to sunset views, cowboy camp around a fire, sleep on mountain tops without a tent and fall asleep while staring at the stars. When in town, find random places to sleep, stay in hostels. or split the cost of a hotel room with other hikers. It's also likely that you'll meet strangers along the way and get invited to stay in their homes.

(Photo: Some of my favorite people I met in a shelter)

As long as you occasionally calculate the average daily miles you need to finish by your deadline, you’ll naturally do what you have to do to finish. Nothing will compare to the emotion you will feel when you get to Katahdin, but that isn’t the only thing you’ll remember. It will be the people you met and the places you spent the night that you’ll talk about for years.

- - -

Since this is the last question, here are a few last bits of advice.

If you feel terrible, or the weather is making you miserable, take a day or two off. And don't feel guilty about it. A day off is better than being so miserable that you think about going home. I found that once that thought got into a thru-hiker's mind, it was only a matter of time before they headed home.

Avoid Branchville, New Jersey. It seems like a convenient place to resupply, but just walk on by. Especially the Joe-to-Go coffee and sandwich shop. He has a well-known reputation for despising hikers and treating them like garbage. There are forums at whiteblaze.net devoted to altercations with that guy.

Take pictures of people. Landscape shots are great, but after your hike, you'll be glad you took photos of the people you met. They, more than the views and the miles, will define your experience on the AT.

Finally, don't skip any miles. They say about 1 in 5 will finish the trail, but it's actually much less than that. Most hikers I met skipped large sections of trail. The feeling at the end will be much greater if you know you passed every white blaze.

I had to skip a section after damage from Hurricane Irene closed down the Green Mountains National Forest. I regretted it the whole trip. I wished I would have risked the $5000 fine that they threatened to impose if we were caught in the park. I eventually went back the following April and finished that section when I hiked the Long Trail in Vermont. That turned my disappointment into another great trip, so I don't regret it anymore. However, if you're ever tempted to skip even one mile, ask yourself how you'd feel if you stopped one mile from Katahdin.

Victor, thanks for giving me the opportunity to answer your questions and good luck on your journey! It will be one of the most memorable five months of your life. I look forward to reliving the experience through your stories.

Once again, you can follow Victor and his friends on their AT journey at BackpackingAT.com.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail


  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Knives on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: The knife I now carry,  the popular Swedish Military Mora Knife)

Here is the third question from Victor Maisano, 2013 Appalachian Trail thru-hiker. 

Follow Victor's progress at BackpackingAT.com

Knives on the AT

Victor: How many knives do you need to bring on the AT? As an Eagle Scout and He-Man fan, I love playing with knives. I am thinking about bringing a multi-tool (Skeletol), a small serrated pocketknife, and perhaps a large blade (Buck knife) to be strapped to my backpack for defense and possibly splitting wood. Do you think that is overkill? 

Me: Generally, anything redundant on a long-distance hike will end up being sent back home or chucked in a hiker box. I cut my toothbrush in half to reduce my pack weight, which I admit is ridiculous. With 300 miles to go, I even sent my tent home to save weight. So, I would choose one knife and maybe consider letting the other people in your group carry the others.

When it comes to gear advice, it's hard to tell another backpacker what they should carry, because gear choices are relative to each hiker's preference. I mean, my He-Man fandom makes me want to ride a green armored tiger down the trail, so clearly we are all unique. If you like to play with knives, whittle, or want to split wood, your needs will be different than mine. Although, to be fair, everyone wants to charge through the woods on the back of a green tiger.

Nevertheless, when choosing gear, it is helpful to learn why hikers do what they do, so I'll stick to that. 

I've carried a few different types of blades on the trails: a multi-tool, lightweight pocket knives, serrated and non-serrated, and a fixed-blade knife, but lately, and more often than not, I just carry a razor blade in my matchbox.

I suspect a lot of people will disagree with me on that, so for the record, I'm not saying there is zero risk in not carrying a proper knife.

I agree that no tool is more useful in a survival situation than a knife. You can use it to build shelter, light a fire, and procure food and water, but on a trail like the AT, it's not likely you'll need it for that. You'll probably see at least one hiker every day, and you'll never be more than a few days from a road or town, as long as you stick to the trail.

So far, regardless of what I've carried, a razor blade is all I've ever really needed. Usually, when I pull out my knife it's to slice a block of cheese or cut cordage or rope. It doesn't mean a knife hasn't been useful for other things, or offered some peace of mind, it's just that I could have always gotten by with a simple razor blade.

That being said, if I'm going into a remote area or if there is a chance I'll be going off-trail, I'll take my 4 oz. Swedish Mora (fixed-blade) knife. This seems to be a very popular knife lately, so I jumped on the bandwagon. It's cheap, lightweight, and has a durable sharp blade that can easily be sharpened in the field.

Defense and Safety

There aren't many wildlife encounters where a knife will be more helpful than learning how to properly handle the situation. For example, click here for the National Park Service guidelines for bear safety. You may have been thinking more about encounters with other humans, though. That is also very rare on the AT, but it happens. It would be a miracle if it never happened, but it is less frequent than if walking down a street. 

So in conclusion, since it's very likely you will be trying to lighten your pack during the first few days or weeks on the trail, to save you the hassle of shipping your other knives back home, my recommendation is to only carry one. Choose the one that you feel offers the best combination of usefulness and lightness. That will probably be the serrated pocketknife, but if you feel better about having the heavier buck knife, by all means, take it. A few ounces are worth the peace of mind. As with all gear, as long as you're thinking about why you are carrying it, and accept the risks of not carrying it, you'll make the right choice for you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go search for He-Man cartoons on You Tube.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Hiking With Visitors

(Photo: My sisters on the Appalachian Trail)

Sorry it has taken me so long to post my next Q&A with Victor. I need to hurry because, him and his friends will begin their thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail very soon. Please join me in following their progress at BackpackingAT.com.

I've been working to save money for my next big hike, but right now I'm sitting in a fast food joint eating lunch, so I'm ready to answer another question. I'm really enjoying these posts. I hope Victor is getting as much out of them as I am.

Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail

Victor: It's got to be soooo relieving when you're in the middle of a thru-hike and see family or friends along the way. Now, what if these people joined you for a weekend? Would you imagine this would slow you down immensely or actually be detrimental to the hike overall?

Me: It probably will slow you down, but that's alright. Especially if you have them visit you early in your trip, so you have plenty of time to make up lost miles.

(Photo: One of my sisters trying to get a break by jumping on my other sister's back. It didn't work out.)

Once you've been on the trail for a few weeks, you might be surprised by how many miles you can cover in a day. If you read my older blog posts, you’ll see I was hiking about 8-12 miles a day on my first trips. It makes me smile when I read one of my old journal entries that says, "hiked 14 miles, I'm beat," or "16 miles today! New personal best!" On the AT, my longest day was 32 miles and some hikers will do more than that.

Someone who hasn't been on a trail this much, probably won't be able to keep up.

The good news is, the trail is really long, so it's easy to make up for lost miles. Every once in a while, calculate how many miles you'll need to hike per day to finish by your deadline. It's good to know what that number is, so you don’t have to stress about short days or zero days.

You may have already figured out what "zero days" are, but just in case someone reading has never heard of it, it's what long-distance backpackers call a "day off." It doesn't necessarily mean you didn't hike at all, it just means you made no forward progress on that day.

For your five month deadline, you'll have to average just under 14.5 miles per day. If done early in your hike, you could take a week of zero days and your daily average will only need to increase by about a mile. And I promise, by the time you're halfway through your hike, 15 miles will seem like a short day.

Two of my sisters and my brother-in-law visited me on the AT in Shenandoah National Park. They didn't hike overnight, but we hiked 8 miles together on the second day and I only hiked half days on the days they arrived and left.

At that time, I needed to average 16 miles per day to finish by my deadline (i.e. winter). Their visit probably put me about 16-18 miles behind schedule, but I didn't worry about it, because my normal days were between 16-24 miles at that point. I think I was back on schedule in about three or four days.

I enjoyed the time with my family, we always have a lot of laughs, and I think it made them feel better to know I was safe out there, so it would have been worth it even if it was difficult to get back on schedule. I mean, they bought me pizza, a meal at an all-you-can-eat Japanese grill, and two nights in a hotel. That might seem great now, but wait until you're on the trail for a few months, stuff like that has the potential to make you weep.

Potential Downside

As far as it being detrimental to your hike, it's unlikely if the visits don't take place too close to the end, but a couple other potential issues come to mind.

If someone in your group is thinking about going home, a visit could make the decision to keep hiking a lot harder. Remember only about 1 in 5 who attempt the hike will finish, and you have a group of 4. Even though a visit from friends or family back home could alleviate some feelings of homesickness, it also has the potential to intensify them. And with there being an easy ride home, it could make getting off the trail very tempting.

Another potential downside depends on the kind of experience you’re looking for. I've talked to a lot of long-distance hikers on the trail. Some are there to temporarily escape their normal life. When talking about a visit from people back home, a thru-hiker once said, being on the trail was the best time of his life, but the visit made him feel like he never left home. For him, that was a bad thing. It applied some brakes to the personal progress he had made on the trail.

So, it depends on what you're wanting to get out of your hike. Maybe you want to step out of your normal life and experience something new. That may include spending a few months away from everything normal, including your friends and family. Nothing wrong with that. And even if your intentions are not to escape anything, after a few months (which can feel like a year out there), you may begin to really love your new lifestyle. Your whole outlook on life could change. You might slowly find yourself morphing into a slightly different person. You may not even realize it until you see people from your "normal life." In other words, don't be surprised if a visit sort of throws your new mindset off the rails a bit.

If you do have visitors, I have one final piece of advice...

Give them the closest thing you can to the real AT experience. I assume these visitors will have been following your progress on your blog. They will want to know what life has been like on the AT. In a few short days, it will not be possible to give them the exact experience of months on a trail, but you can give them a sample. Have them stay in a shelter to meet other hikers, and if there is enough time, maybe even hitch into a town so they can see what hitching for a resupply is like.

They may love it or hate it, but at least they will be able to relate when you tell them stories later. And you will be telling them stories for the rest of their lives. Even if they've made it clear they are tired of them, you'll tell them anyway. Trust me. I still find myself saying, "when I was on the trail..." almost every day.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Online Mail Drops

Victor

Eric

This March, Victor Maisano and three of his friends, will start their journey on the Appalachian Trail. Since many of you started reading my blog during my own AT thru-hike, I thought you might enjoy following his blog at BackpackingAT.com.

Victor and his friends will each be sharing their experiences through several social media outlets, like Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, YouTube, Pintrest, and Instagram.

Lauren

Victor says, "I like to think of it as a true reality show."

Every Appalachian Trail adventure is unique, so even though you might see or hear about some familiar places, I can assure you their story will be one that only they can tell.

Bo

I met Victor through Twitter. He asked me a few questions about my experience on the Appalachian Trail and agreed to let me reply to them here. I was going to answer all four questions on one post, but I can't seem to keep my answers short. This may come as a surprise, but I love to ramble on and on about backpacking.

Victor's first question is about resupplying along the trail, and he brings up an interesting idea...

Victor: What if we purchased food from large [online] retailers and have them delivered to us on the trail. Since we would be purchasing for 4 people, we could easily make the free shipping quota and get food at a lower cost than we would in a local town. Other than stating the obvious of not having a signal on some parts of the trail, what would be wrong with this idea?

Me: If you don't mind the extra planning that comes with food drops, ordering online isn't a bad idea, and actually offers some benefits over the traditional mail drop. My short answer is that unless you have special dietary needs, medications, or are a vegetarian; mail drops on the AT are more hassle than they are worth.

One of the greatest things about life on the AT, is the freedom you feel while living such a life. After a few weeks, you won’t know if it's a Monday or a Saturday, and most importantly, you won't care. It is a great feeling. It may not be the case with you, but I think it's safe to say not everyone will have many opportunities to experience something like this in their life. With mail drops, you never completely leave behind the world of schedules, deadlines, and logistics.

The AT is unique, in that, if you're already familiar with backpacking, you don't have to do much planning at all. Once you have your ride to the approach trail figured out, you only need to make sure you have enough supplies to get you to your first town. By picking up your supplies in towns along the way, the simplicity and freedom you experience on the AT will be even more total and absolute.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, don't over-complicate it unnecessarily.

If you'd like to give it a try anyway, here are some suggestions...

First, based on your question, it sounds like you’re already familiar with some of the problems with food drops, but I’ll talk about those for anyone else reading, in order to highlight some of the advantages of ordering online.

What are mail drops?

Traditional mail drops are boxes that you packed with food and other supplies before leaving home, which someone will ship to you along the trail. Mail drops may be a requirement on remote trails, but on the AT, you will easily find places to resupply every 3 days or less (as long as you don't mind hitchhiking, which was very easy for me on the AT.)

Even the 100-Mile Wilderness in Maine has a resupply opportunity about halfway through. As of 2013, White House Landing is operating and picking up hikers. Just follow the signs and blue blazes down a 0.9-mile side trail, blow the air horn, and someone will be by in a boat to pick you up. They are trying to sell the land, however, so if you’re reading this beyond 2013, you may want to call ahead to be sure they are still picking up hikers.

So in other words, there are no locations on the AT where you will need to send a food drop.

Why does anyone bother with them at all?

If you don’t have special dietary or medical needs, in my opinion, there aren't many great arguments for dealing with mail drops on the AT. Some people do it because they make their own food, but the most common reasons for doing it have to do with saving money by avoiding small markets and convenience stores and avoiding areas with limited supplies.

On the AT, I never had a problem finding enough supplies at a resupply point to get me to the next one. And if shipping costs are involved, they will cancel out most, if not all, of the cost savings. That is, unless you send fewer drops and carry a huge amount of food, but carrying a heavy pack comes with its own, fairly obvious, downsides.

Also, if you buy food before your trip starts, you’ll eventually get tired of some or all of it. Believe it or not, there is a finite amount of times you’ll want to stare down at a pot full of Knorr Pasta Sides. It’s not easy eating enough calories on a long-distance hike. You will need as many as 5,000 to 6,000 calories per day to maintain your body weight. By buying food along the way, you’ll ensure you’re buying foods that you will want to eat.

So, I don't think traditional mail drops are generally worth it. On the AT, if I was concerned about the next resupply being expensive or limited, I would buy a few extra things at a good resupply point, like a town with a giant supermarket, to reduce what I needed to buy at the next stop. And if you do manage to save a little money with mail drops, you have to ask if it's worth the hassle. I think simplifying your life out there has a value that far exceeds those meager savings.

Benefits of Ordering Online

So back to your question, if you’re ordering online, you can avoid most of the downfalls with the traditional mail drop. Although, I have to say, I haven't actually tried this yet.

The only online store that I could find that might make this work is Walmart.com. It seems most products are  only sold in bulk, so this may not work if you're hiking alone, but it could save you money if splitting the food with a group. And as you said, you can get free 5-day shipping if you order at least $45 of their “home free” items, which is a significant enough number of products to get everything you need. This eliminates one of the big disadvantages. And since you’re buying food relatively close to the day you’ll be eating it, it's also less likely that you’ll be carrying things that you’re tired of eating.

Also, make sure you only order items that have a long enough shelf life to stay fresh.

Possible Downsides to Ordering Online

The first concern I had wasn't about poor cell service, but this is a concern. It surprised me how frequently I had service with my Verizon phone on the AT, but web access will be less common. I’m not sure how much less, since I didn't have internet on my phone, but I wouldn't want to rely on it.

That being said, it doesn't matter that much, because you already know you can resupply in towns within three days of wherever you are on the AT, so you don’t have to rely on it completely. And any place along the AT that allows you to send a mail drop will hold onto it for at least 30 days, even the Post Offices, so don’t be afraid to send things way out in front of you and consider placing more than one order when you do get service.

To have your walmart.com package sent to a post office, type "General Delivery" in the address line, along with the city, state, and zip code for the post office you want it shipped to. See the image to the right...

One advantage of shipping a package to a post office, rather than a hostel or hotel, is having the ability to call and have it forwarded. Let's say, for whatever reason, you know you're not going to make it to that post office during business hours, but you don't want to wait around town until morning. Simply call them up and have it forwarded to the next post office along the trail. This can help alleviate that feeling of being rushed by a deadline.

If something is shipped using First-Class or Priority with the USPS, they will forward it for free. Although, packages from Walmart.com, of the size we're talking about here, will likely be shipped with FedEx. That just means if you call to have it forwarded, you will have to pay the shipping cost when you arrive to pick up the package. The distances will be short, though, so it shouldn't be that expensive.

Another potential issue is that since you will be shipping packages to addresses that are not the same as your credit card billing address, Walmart.com may withhold the shipment until the address can be verified. This is to prevent fraud. They may not do it every time, but it could delay a package. You can sidestep this problem by calling your credit card company beforehand and asking them to put a note on your account with the addresses you plan on shipping to.

If you decide to ship to a business, such as a hostel, hotel, or outfitter, use the option to leave a "gift message" on the label whenever possible, so the receiver will know it’s a mail drop for an AT hiker. For example, you can write, “Please hold for AT hiker,” as your gift message. You could also add something like, “ETA: 07/20/13,” or whatever date is close to when you expect to pick up the package. I would add several days to that date, so you don't feel like you have to rush.

In some cases, Walmart.com won't give you the option to leave a gift message on the label. It depends on the product you're ordering, for some reason. Although, most places along the AT that accept mail drops will be very familiar with this practice and will probably assume it's for a hiker. For peace of mind, you could call and let them know you sent a package to them, so they will be expecting it.

In Conclusion

To avoid any shipping issues, I would still avoid mail drops as much as possible, in order to simplify your life on the AT, but ordering from Walmart.com doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. If you don't rely on it too much, send orders with plenty of lead time to correct issues, and use some of the tips above, I think you could do it without taking away from the experience.

On other long distance hikes, such as the Pacific Crest Trail, where towns are more spread out and further from the trail, ordering online would be considerably more beneficial. I will keep that in mind while planning my 2014 PCT hike!

Let me know if you try it and how it goes. There is still a chance that they will screw something up, since I'm sure they are not familiar with thru-hiking. I'll add an update to this post with what you find out.

One last bit of advice when it comes to heading into town for a resupply, I recommend doing it often. Some people may frown on taking too many trips into town, but even though there are great benefits to being far away from the creature comforts of civilization, I'm a fan of frequent resupplies.

The more times you stop to resupply, the lighter your pack will be. Even though a hitch in and out of town can take a few hours, you will be able to hike longer and further with your lighter pack and make up some of the difference. You will also have less pain, less injuries, more energy, and you'll just be happier overall.

And besides, I found that most of the anecdotes, for your blog and for the stories you'll tell years from now, will come from those town visits.

(Something else that just came to mind, since you have four in your group, it might take less time to get a hitch if you split into two groups of two.)

Alright, I need to stop before I ramble on even more. I'll post your next question and answer soon.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 6

My Final Day in Paradise
Click Here for Part One

I woke up early the next morning to watch the sunrise one last time over Lake Superior. I went back to the deck from last night. I expected to see others enjoying the view, but again I had the deck to myself. Only this time, I sat on the east-facing bench. I didn't leave until the sky passed its peak of red and orange.

A couple of hours later, I was floating in a kayak. I saw that they offered rentals, so decided to go on one final adventure before boarding the Isle Royale Queen IV once again.

I paddled around Tobin Harbor for four hours, hoping to catch another glimpse of a moose. I didn't see any but I did see two loons. I tried to close in on them to get a picture, but as I approached they dived underwater for a minute or so and pop back up in another location. They are like real life whack-a-moles. They made me look like a fool as I paddled back and forth helplessly.

I passed several small islands, some inhabited by people vacationing in cabins. I paddled toward two ducks, that stood on a log floating in the lake, hoping to snap their picture, but before I could get close enough their fight or flight instinct kicked in and they flew away. Just once, I want a duck to choose fight. That should keep things interesting. If nothing else I’d find out what I’m truly made of.

I took the kayak back to the beach and returned my paddle and life jacket. I still had over two hours before the boat arrived on the island, so I decided to go on a harbor walk with a small group lead by Ranger Marcia. I learned about useful plants that I wish knew about before my hike. Some edible, but most notable was a small feathery plant that is said to relieve the itch of mosquito bites if rubbed on your skin.

When we returned from the informative walk, they were loading gear and kayaks onto the boat. A long row of passengers lined up along its side. I wasn't anywhere close to being ready to leave but I didn't really have a choice, right? I sat again in the stern of the ship and watched as Isle Royale faded away. A depressing sight.

When we docked at Copper Harbor, I got back into my car and drove straight through for thirteen hours. I was surprisingly wide-awake for almost the entire time, until I was less than 40 miles from my house. Sleep deprivation finally started to set in.

I started to hallucinate, or maybe I was actually asleep for a few seconds and dreaming. I thought I saw something run out in front of me. I swear it looked like an 18” tall Sasquatch, although I’m fairly certain it wasn't  With fifteen miles to go, I dreamed that the road dropped off on the left side until my lane looked like a plateau on a ridge overlooking a shear drop off.

I couldn't take it anymore. This was not good. I stopped at a gas station and slept for an hour. I woke up suddenly, feeling like I had only slept for seconds then finished the last 15 minutes of driving.

It didn't take long to find myself back into my routine, but Isle Royale will forever be a special place to me, a significant part of my timeline. I already want to plan a second trip, but I have too many other things on my list to do. It’s not a Yahtzee, you know. You don’t get bonus points for doing it more than once. Nevertheless, there is something unique about that place. It’s the most revisited national park in the country and now I know why.

All that life is, is the present moment and a collection of memories from past moments. If I fill too much of my past with those repetitive, ignored memories, instead of living in the here-and-now then it’s no mystery why my time has flown by.

I spent so much of my time off at home, thinking I couldn't afford to do the things I wanted to do. I was wrong. (This trip was just over $300, including gas.) I have no good excuse for staying home anymore. Life is too short and too important. These six days will never be forgotten, blocked out or ignored as insignificant. Every detail will be with me forever.

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 5

The Darkest Sky
Click Here for Part One

The morning was chilly, but I didn't need a jacket . I ate breakfast, read a book, and once again listened to the loons. I packed up camp slowly, paying attention to the quality of my actions. I cleaned every piece of gear unhurriedly before carefully packing it away. I accomplished another one of my intended goals. Life was moving at a snail’s pace.

I decided to go back to Rock Harbor for my final night, where this hike began. Heading out of Lane Cove, back over balance beams and through clouds of bees.

I hiked along with my head down staring at the trail in front of me, then stopped suddenly. Just a few yards away, in the middle of the trail, stood two enormous moose, grazing and unperturbed by me. I don’t know what the safe distance was to be away from a moose, but it certainly wasn't this.

I, of course, grabbed my camera and snapped a dozen pictures rather than retreat to a safer distance. When the first moose crossed the trail a few yards in front of me, I could see sores on its hind legs. They looked like bite wounds, fresh bite wounds. Did he escape from certain death nearby? Where wolves still close? I honestly didn't consider that much, though. I was too excited about the photos I was getting and mesmerized by their size and closeness.

I moved towards the larger moose further up the trail. He wasn't facing me and didn't know I was there. I crept forward slowly, but still spooked him when he heard me behind him. He darted about 10 feet, but realized I wasn't a threat and went back to eating. The commotion, however, startled the first moose, which had now turned to face me. It seemed to move slightly forward, but this may have been my imagination. I thought his face looked concerned  or fearful. Fear can lead to anger, anger to violence. The kind of violence that makes you just want to headbutt an idiot with a camera. I backed away slowly, but continued taking photos like those tourists in Godzilla movies moments before their death.

I learned later that moose can be more problematic than bears, and very aggressive during mating season, but that doesn't start until late September. This was early September, so clearly nothing to worry about. Once again, my naivety will one day be the death of me.

With such a wonderful night, and being right in the middle of the moose’s world, I was on a naturalist’s high. I don’t even know what that means. I just know it doesn't get any better than this, at least not so far.

Since I was in a hurry the day before, I walked back up Mt. Franklin to sit and enjoy the view without feeling rushed. Several people came to check out the view, take a photo, and left quickly. I remained. I knew once I headed back down it might be the last I’d get to see it. As a result, it was hard to leave.

At Rock Harbor campground, I expected to see it crowded and full of activity, especially since it was Labor Day weekend. Other than the side with the restaurant and lodge, it was the opposite. I pretty much had the pick of whichever site I wanted. I choose to stay in one of the shelters. An empty 10 x 15 foot space with one wall made entirely of screen that faced the forest and a picnic table out front.

Writings and drawings covered the walls and ceiling inside. There were signatures, poems, short reports about experiences, testimonies, and commentary. One thing was clear, even those who wrote about bad experiences from weather or failed gear, enjoyed their stay and wanted to come back.

I left my gear behind and went to check out the slightly more civilized part of the island. I felt out of place. I was a guy from the woods who has been drinking water from the lake and lying on the ground. They were drinking wine on a patio. It’s a very small section, but where a lot of people congregated. I thought about getting a meal at the restaurant, but turned down the $35 cost. Instead, I walked down a trail and discovered a deck with benches angled towards both the sunrise and sunset. A few other people came and went, but everyone left before the sun completely set. I stayed, happy to be alone.

Daylight faded like a retractable roof revealing the cosmos. The smell of campfires started to waft over in the breeze. The first point of light to emerge was Jupiter, then Vega, the Big Dipper constellation, the Northern Cross, Cassiopeia, and a small handful of other stars light-years away. Soon, thousands of others joined them.

The dark sky was full of stars, more than I have ever seen in a night sky, but I can still only see a fraction of all that exist with the naked eye. There are hundreds of billions in our galaxy alone, which is one of hundreds of billions of galaxies. There are more stars in our universe than grains of sand on all the beaches on earth. Nobody ever believes me when I say that, but it's true; ask any astronomer or statistician (if you can find one). I cannot help but wonder how many of those stars hold planets in their gravitational grasp. How many of those planets support life? What color are the plants where their entomological dramas unfold?

Light emitted from these stars takes years to reach my eyes. In fact, the stream of light from each star left at different times, so every twinkle that I see represents a different moment in history. The light from Vega, which I can see now, left its source in about 1983. That’s before the Cosby Show and the creation of Alf. Think about it.

The ancient light from Mu Cephei started its voyage towards earth while humans were entering the Bronze Age, fighting wars with copper and bronze weapons, constructing Stonehenge, and for the first time using plows, pottery wheels, and interestingly, astronomy itself. The starlight is on a journey so long that when it finally passes by, I am not using copper for weapons anymore, but in the circuitry making it possible for me to later Google this information about the 4th century B.C.E.

The Andromeda galaxy is just a pale white point of light to the naked eye. That beam’s voyage is so old that pre-human hominids were tramping over the same planet, which I now lay, with the first primitive stone tools ever created. Now here it is colliding with my retinas and registering in my brain not as just another pale light from far away, but conjuring up feelings about my life of both insignificance and precious rarity. Whenever I am taking my life too seriously and need brought back down to earth, I simply have to look up.

I wish I could hold onto these moments always. Permanently slow things down. A rushed life finally unhurried. Regrettably, I know it will not last forever; but thanks to a love of the natural world, I will forever know that at any time I can get it back. Even in the realm of the known, without making up fantastical and magical stories, the world can be seen as fascinating, miraculous, and enchanting; and should above all, never be seen as repetitive and boring.

I had to put on my headlamp to see the trail for my hike back. When I neared the resort’s lights, I temporarily turned my headlamp off and strolled with my eyes still pointed at the sky. This caused me to veer off the trail and nearly trip, but I just couldn't keep my eyes off it. This was my last night; I had to take it all in and make it last. After all, it might be the last I’d get to see it.

   

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 4

Greenstone Ridge Trail
Click Here for Part One

At first light, my stealthy moose search began. I can't lie, I’m excited to be able to say that. I crossed over moose-made paths and puddles from moose-made footprints. It was a chilly 47°. A thick fog drifted across the lake under a peach sky. A river otter enjoyed a cold early morning swim.  I stood patiently by the lake with my camera, but there were no moose to be seen.

I went back to camp and lounged in my hammock listening to the early birds. Their songs are a little different this far north. “Burlap, burlap.” “Tweep, tweep,” some birds said, with their crazy northerner accents. I moved back to my cozy tent and sleeping bag to warm up. Apparently too cozy, I slept for an additional four hours. The day started late. I didn't get on the trail until 1:30 and I had over thirteen miles to go. I intended to start at a decent time. So much for that.

Pictures couldn't do it justice

My next target was Lane Cove via the Greenstone Ridge Trail. It was rougher than the previous trail, but there were some amazing views. As I got to the top of the first overlook, I was kind of awestruck. I was high enough to see the surrounding islands, which formed the archipelago.  My tense body slumped as I exhaled a “wow”. I had no idea there would be such views or that the ridge would be over 1,000 feet high. There is something to be said for under planning and letting yourself be surprised.

I saw several small islands and a hazy Canadian shore. I joined a fellow hiker sitting on the edge of exposed bedrock. I sat down with my feet hanging over the side. He was on day 2 of 16. We talked for a few minutes. He wasn't carrying a lot of food but would instead go fishing each night to catch dinner. He gave me some information about the trip to Lane Cove and continued on his way. I stayed there for a while longer to take it all in. I knew I didn't have a lot of daylight left, but to hell with deadlines, I have a headlamp.

This was not the only excellent lookout from Greenstone Ridge. Much of the ten miles I spent on it today were in view of the Lake a thousand feet below. I climbed the fire tower on Mount Ojibwa, to get as high as possible. I could see the Rock Harbor lighthouse over a mile away. I began to fall in love with the place. A couple of generations ago, a several motivated people fought relentlessly to turn this into a national park, to protect it from over-fishing  logging, the building of resorts, and other financial exploitation. I now sensed a connection with those people. I understood why they remained so diligent. I would have been proud to fight alongside them.

After descending from the ridge, I was back in the thick trees. The forest was wetter the further I hiked down. Moss clung to rocks and logs. Sage green lichens draped Birch trees. Slippery bog bridges lifted me above the wetlands, which frogs and snakes claimed as their home. Unfortunately, so did the mosquitoes. They swarmed in clouds, so I started to get frustrated and ready to be finished for the day.

A particularly long stretch of bog boards were about two feet off the ground and just over a foot wide. A heavy pack can pull you down if you lean to one side too much. That combined with a nervousness of falling and the constant swatting of mosquitoes, I felt like I was on one of those weird Japanese game show obstacle courses. I heard the announcer in my head as I walked across. “Alright and he’s off, over the balance beam, crossing the stagnant watery pit of snakes, uh oh he’s crouching down to take a picture of a pretty S-shaped snake laying in the water, a potentially devastating choice as this could compromise his stability, ooh and a massive hit on his right by the mosquito swarm. That frantic swatting is going to cost him his sense of balance, but wait a minute, he’s back up and he finishes in record time! Stay tuned for more Super Happy Joy Fun Show!”

Anyway, so the mosquitoes were annoying. I began referring to them as skeeters, which is the derogatory slur to use when wanting to intentionally show them disrespect. I constantly smacked and swatted at them. I really don’t like killing anything. I don’t even kill insects in my house. Some I give sanctuary, others I carefully pick up and set outside in the safety of a bush.  Nonetheless, with mosquitoes, I got a definite sense of satisfaction when killing one. Sorry skeeters, but nobody likes you. 

By the time I arrived at Lane Cove, the mosquitoes were mostly gone. The frustration instantly eroded and I was thrilled that I chose to hike the extra two and a half miles to get here. The site bordered the cove and the view pointed towards the opening into Lake Superior. The water was shallow for several feet so provided plenty of room for wading and rinsing off. I set my gear down, put on my water shoes, and headed into the lake.

Superior is always cold and today wasn't an exception. The average yearly temperature is in the 40s or 50s. It seemed a bit warmer than that, but not by enough.

I waded out until I was thigh deep and started to shiver, but it felt great. I hesitated due to the cold, but I wanted to be submerged. Before I could think about it too much, I held my breath and went under. It was exhilarating at first. I became acclimated just enough to tolerate it but never fully. I swam further out. My head popped above the surface while treading. I breathed air into my tightened lungs with short, almost hyperventilating breaths. Obviously, I’m not use to this.

I went back under and moved to shallower water so I could stand. I took a few more breaths, went under again, and swam towards the shore until my hands and knees grazed large fist-sized rocks on the bottom. It felt incredible. A cold swim after a few days of backpacking under a layer of sweat and grim is one of life’s most invigorating moments. I rolled onto my back then to a sitting position for a few minutes before getting out and drying in the sun.

There wasn't much daylight left, so I prepared camp. Periodically I’d stop to admire the sunset. After making myself at home, I lay on my back on a bench made of a large log planed down so it was flat. My head rested on my hands with fingers intertwined. I realize that the rush of the day is not for me. I wish I had gotten here earlier. My previous treks have been too hurried, this day included. That is not why I hike, not why nature draws me in. This was it, this simplicity, this kind of moment. Am I paying attention to it?

When I look up at the sky, I'm reminded that in over four billion years it has never looked exactly the same way. The clouds arranged in this particular combination of shapes and colors, moving in this particular way, will only exist at this moment and never again. I wish I could always remember that when I need to slow things down, live in the present and see something new, I simply have to look up.

I roll over onto my side, hand now propping up my head, occasionally scribbling in my journal. I concentrate on the feeling of tall grasses touching my skin, the smell of dirt, and start to see just how much is going on around me. Paying attention to the little things, which I normally block out, is another way to slow things down and live in the moment.

Over green chlorophyll and soil, an insect lived out his days with a struggle, drama, and determination that I cannot even imagine. It’s common to see the plants, not as living things, but as lifeless as gravel or mud, even though we share DNA. If they moved at a faster time-lapse pace, turning their leaves quickly towards the sun and slithering their roots under my feet, how different would they seem? Would I give them personality? Would I talk to them and give them names? Would I think twice before picking a flower?

The diversity and cooperation between plants on the island is also admirable. There are species that wouldn't ordinarily be able to survive on Isle Royale, due to its poor soil quality with low levels of nitrogen. Some species of plants, however, convert the nitrogen in the air and put some back into the soil in forms other plants can use to survive. Below me, even though I can’t see it, I know an overlooked world exists buried under tons of dirt, roots, bedrock, and water, churning away unknowing and selflessly keeping everything alive and growing here on the surface.

Just as important is the microscopic life, which is so abundant that if everything we can observe with the naked eye were to disappear, we would still see ghostly outlines of it constructed out of trillions of bacteria and nematodes.

The lichens covering the trees and rocks look like a single organism, but are actually comprised of fungus with algae or cyanobacteria, or both. The fungus provides structure and nitrogen allowing the algae or cyanobacteria to photosynthesize and provide food for the fungi. One would not survive in this beautiful form without the other. "Lichens are fungi that discovered agriculture," as one lichenologist put it. This delicate cooperation illustrates both the strength and endurance of the island but also the fragility and teamwork required to maintain it.

So much of this activity is going on continuously, and yet, I typically fail to pay attention to it. It's a magnificent world and largely ignored in the course of the average day. A nearly useless and unclaimed dollar bill blows across a parking lot and most of us will go out of our way to chase it down. At the same time fail to see the priceless things always around us, each one blocked out as repetitive and insignificant.

The sun was now set, the clear sky still a bright, but now darkening blue. The absence of moon and city light made every possible star visible. Periodic breezes hissed through the pines and water gurgled against the rocks on the shore. This is the time of my life.

SMACK, the sound of another dying mosquito. “Thought you were going to bite me, huh? Skeeta please.”

I moved to my tent to be away from them, so they wouldn't take away from this moment. I sat up late reading and writing. Occasionally I’d lie on my back to gaze up at the unusual amount of stars that I normally can’t see at home. Along with many other things, complete darkness is something I forgot how to appreciate.

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 3

Life List Item Number Forty-Two
Click Here for Part One

The night was in the upper forties and remained chilly the next morning as I repacked my gear. McCargoe Cove, 10 miles away, was today’s planned destination. I got back on the trail and walked along a bog bridge, a twelve-inch plank to raise hikers above the wetland. Beautiful flowers grew wild on both sides. I didn't notice the buzzing noise until I was right in the middle of it. Bees surrounded me. It was like walking into an apiary without a beekeeper outfit, but I didn't even consider that they might sting me. I just kept walking through it with a smile on my face. My naivety will one day be the death of me.

So far, my pilgrimage to see a moose was unsuccessful. I worried that not seeing any was a possibility. Then somewhere between Lake Richie and Chickenbone Lake, just a few yards on my right, I hear a loud exhaling grunt that could have only come from one of the half-ton lumbering beasts.

I was temporarily startled but drew the camera from my side pocket like Wyatt Earp. I walked along fallen trees to get closer, balancing myself by reaching for nearby trunks and branches. He was grazing, preparing for winter, so said Ranger Marcia. His massive size and huge rack made me suddenly feel fragile. His movements were unhurried, living in the moment. He grabbed branches between his teeth then slid up to strip it of leaves. It was fascinating to watch. With great satisfaction, I mentally crossed off number 42.

I picked a site at Chickenbone Lake to stay for the night. I didn’t get to McCargoe Cove, three more miles away. I was ready to rest and after seeing the moose, I wanted to stay in the area to see if I'd see more.

Moose don’t like hot weather. They don’t get cold until about -25°F, so I figured they would frequent the lake to cool themselves. After surveying the site, I found a few moose tracks and many paths leading toward the water. I was certain I’d be successful. I set my alarm for 6:00 am. I’d hunt early, camera in hand.

Logs and rocks surrounded a large boulder near the center of the campsite, which I used as a table and chair to prepare dinner. While I ate, and for the rest of the evening, the periodic cry of a loon, put me in good spirits until it started to rain. I grabbed everything and threw it into my tent.

I hopped onto a large boulder that was a couple of feet out into the lake and watched droplets from the drizzle collided with the still water. The light reflecting off the ripples looked like thousands of fireflies swarming on the surface.

Another reason I stopped three miles before reaching McCargoe was that I didn’t want this trip to be about completing as many miles as possible. I wanted time to relax by the lake, sway in my hammock, and read my book. Aside from the few intermittent showers, it was a perfect night to do so. The storm clouds moving in reflected many warm hues from the setting sun, creating a dramatic and menacing sky.

I am a hammock-based sloth with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to answer to. Finally, I’m beginning to have the frame of mind to answer some, often ignored, but important questions. Questions that keep me in the here and now: what is going on around me, what sounds have just entered my ears that I am ignoring, what is my skin feeling, am I paying attention?

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 2

Ride on the Isle Royale Queen IV
Click here for part one

The next morning my two alarm clocks annoyed me as instructed at precisely 6:30. After hitting snooze on both, followed by nine more minutes of blissful sleep, I rolled out of bed squinting and stumbled into the hot pink shower. I was soon clean and ready to go.

When I arrived, there were a dozen people already waiting under an awning, shielding them from the morning rain. I got my ticket and loaded my pack onto the boat. As I waited under the awning myself, I checked out the other backpacker's gear, eavesdropped on stories about their previous trips to the island, and watched the workers load several kayaks onto the ship.

Once allowed to board I sat by the window at a table with four comfy blue seats. I knew the boat would be close to full and wouldn’t be able to keep my own table. I was ok with that, since most people were backpackers, I figured I’d get to meet someone that had common interests. Instead, however, a couple of about 18-20 years old asked if they could have the seats across from me. The girl painted in make-up seemed more interested in how she looked than the other rough looking backpackers on the boat. Her boyfriend constantly yawned and rubbed his eyes. We didn’t exchange a word after “mind if we join you” and they soon fell asleep.

The boat was a couple minutes from leaving. What is this diamond shaped thing in my pocket I wondered, a keychain? My goldfish memory eventually kicked in and I realized I had forgotten to drop the key off at the motel front desk. I told a girl who worked on the boat the situation, pointed to the motel, and asked how much time I had.

“Hah, none.” she said. “But if you hurry you can make it.” The engines started to rev up. The thirty seconds to drop it off and get back turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I could now scurry past my sleepy shipmates unobserved and onto the stern’s deck outside, where I would spend most of the 3 ½-hour trip.

I leaned against the railing looking out over the side. Michigan disappeared. The horizon and Lake Superior was all I could see in any direction. It was cold. Every so often a chilly mist sprayed from windblown white-capped waves. I staggered to the snack bar, trying to walk on a surface that rolled and swayed, and bought a cup of hot cranberry apple cider to warm up. I moved onto the bow of the ship I stared at the horizon waiting for an island to emerge.

The voice of the captain occasionally bellowed out of a speaker to tell us some information about Isle Royale. He tells us this year is the 50th anniversary of a moose/wolf study on the island. The populations of moose and wolves fluctuate like a teeter totter. As the predator wolf population goes up, the moose prey population goes down. With the food source low, the wolf population goes down until the moose population is back up, then repeats indefinitely. That is a simplification but you get the idea.

He says there are 23 wolves in four packs and 650 moose on the island; a low number for Isle Royale but still almost ensures I’d see one. I’m not sure why I like this animal, but I think it just conjures up images of the Alaskan wilderness and boreal forests that I love so much.

He tells us the story of a moose that ventured into a campsite, which drew the attention of excited backpackers. Wolves came into the camp and attacked it. The moose tried to flee by jumping in the lake, but drowned. The wolves pulled the body back into camp to began devouring it in front of, I assume, horrified, disgusted, or fascinated backpackers.

Since it was disturbing people, and the wolves would be feasting there for a while, they evacuated the area. A week later, the pack finally finished their meal and, umm, lived happily ever after?

I looked around at the other passengers and confirmed that they had similar, “what the hell?” looks on their faces that I had. I’m not sure of his point to the story, but he seemed to enjoy telling it. I’ve read several times that wolves are not a threat to humans. After his story, I started to question my sources.

Finally, Isle Royale appeared in the distance. Waves crashed on its rocky shore painted with bright orange lichens. The forest looks like those you expect to see north of the Canadian border, with conifers like white spruce and balsam fir and younger deciduous trees like birch and aspen. There is a good reason for this. Isle Royale is just barely at the southern tip of the Boreal forest, rarely seen in the lower 48, which covers millions of acres in Alaska and Canada.

There was a quick orientation and registration with Ranger Marcia before heading into the wilderness. I could tell she had a love affair with this place. I imagined that she would occasionally head off into the woods alone, during off-hours, and eat edible plants and berries along the trails. I pictured her finding a rock to sit on, with a good view, while writing poetry about how she feels connected to nature, complete with metaphors that give the island human-like traits. She was my kind of person.

I decide to head to Daisy Farm campground just over seven miles away. My first impression of the trail running along the shore was that it seemed meticulously landscaped. The placement of large and small-leafed plants, moss covered boulders and bedrock, wide assortments of wildflowers, edible thimbleberries right at arm’s reach, were all under a canopy of trees that flowed with the trail just as it should with nothing out of place. This was especially noticeable in places I decided to stop for short breaks, like at Suzy’s Cave, and along Lake Superior’s rocky shoreline.

I picked several thimbleberries along the trail. I got somewhat addicted to them. They look like raspberries and the taste reminds me of buttery pomegranate. They get their name from the shape, but to me, they looked more like little red berets on the ends of my fingers than thimbles. I put them on my fingertips like when we’d put those pointy Bugles snacks on our fingertips as kids. We’d pretend they were witches nails, and walk around with our hands up near our face, fingers curling, cackling, and saying things like “I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too.” 

Once my index finger had on a red beret, suddenly I imagined it had a French accent (I really didn’t have a choice, it just happened.) Beret-Wearing Index Finger didn’t care much for vile, despicable, American scum. Beret-Wearing Thumb tried to do a ‘Rerun from What’s Happening’ impersonation but all he knew to say was “Hey, Hey, Hey!” although I had my doubts that that was Rerun’s catchphrase on the show, but I kept my comments to myself. Beret-Wearing Pinky just incoherently yelled things like” Viva La Revolucion!”, in a high-pitched and futile attempt to sound threatening, but nobody paid attention to the pinky. They never do. That just fuels his desire for revolution. I ate so many thimbleberries that my fingertips were dyed red, the sign of true addict. This dialogue only took place in my head. Does that make it less odd?

Nearing Daisy Farm, hiking up a slight incline, I encountered a nonchalant red fox standing in the middle of the trail. He stood staring at me. I quickly got out my camera to take pictures. Not concerned in any way, he just sat down on the ground looking around in different directions, almost as if he was posing. After eight or more photos, he remained unmoved. After finally putting my camera away, he looked as if it might say, “Okay, now that I have your attention, please answer me these riddles three and you shall pass.”

As another noisy group started to approach behind me, he strolled away from the trail slowly and out of sight.

I arrived at Daisy Farm and found only one site unoccupied. I was lucky, since the next site was four miles away. I unpacked, ate a quick meal (including some thimbleberries that were growing nearby), and relax in my hammock under spruce needles and birch leaves.

Even with the crowded campground, the sounds of screen doors from shelters and pit toilets tapping shut, and the sound of mumbling and laughter, it was a peaceful night. The young couple from the boat walked by three times, searching for an open spot. I thought I would once again hear him say, “Mind if we join you?” Luckily, I did not.

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Follow Your Bliss

Have you ever heard the phrase, “Follow your bliss”? If you’re not sure which direction to take your life, simply “follow your bliss.” The more I thought about it, the more it felt like another idealistic platitude. 

Then I went backpacking. 

I’ve been re-reading old journals from my first backpacking trips, before the Appalachian Trail, before leaving everything behind... other than what I could carry on my back, of course. It's nice to have a record of how I felt. How those first emotions on the trail would one day lead me to where I am now. 

Mt. Franklin at Isle Royale

Before those trips, I didn’t even know what “bliss” meant. Don’t get me wrong, I could have given you a definition and used it in a sentence, but my description would have been as lifeless as a sentence in Webster’s. Now bliss has a feeling. It’s not some meaningless abstraction. I understand it with all five of my senses. 

Nevertheless, with this recently acquired and frequently profound understanding, I can no longer tell you in words what "bliss" means. 

One thing I can do is repost some of those old journals, which some of you have already read, but since I’m not hiking right now, and since I have new Kindle subscribers (who I want to get more value for their money), I’m going to post a few reruns. I'll continue to write about gear, but today I am going to start reposting my journal from Isle Royale National Park, which was the first time I got it into my head that “following my bliss” meant living the life I live today.

- - -

My journal from Isle Royale, September 2008

Part One: A Long Drive North

Sometimes I reach up to feel the edge of my glasses to see if they're still on my face. On my drive home from work, I’m occasionally surprised to see that final turn without realizing I've already passed all the familiar landmarks. I know I am wearing underwear but I can’t feel it. My brain signals my consciousness only when there is a change; the repetitive is consistently blocked out.

There is an evolutionary advantage to disregarding the ordinary. It allows us to focus and react quickly to a dangerous or advantageous situation; but the shortcoming is that much of life is repetitive and thus ignored as insignificant. The result is realizing one day I’m 30 and can’t remember where all the time has gone.

I can’t smell myself either, but I've been on a trail for a couple days as I write this, so I’m sure I stink.

One night, while my brain was trying to block out the repetitive chore of folding laundry, I stared at a mound of socks on my bed rolled into balls. Each ball of socks represented a day in my life. Looking at them piled together, I felt like someone with amnesia seeing unfamiliar photographs of themselves with smiling strangers. What did I do with all of these days? Where was I? It seemed like I just did laundry. I was troubled by the number of days now piled up on my bed.

The speed at which this particular year is traveling by is quite alarming. This is the reason I started a life list. The only way I know how to apply the brakes is to do something different, always be thinking of the next adventure, and strive to live in the moment.

Quieting the mind and living in the present is not always an easy task; I pretty much fail at daily actually. I find that it is effortless, however, when I’m alone in nature… and there is no better place for solitude in a pristine natural world than the island of Isle Royale, number 75 on my life list.

Isle Royale National Park is a series of islands tucked away in Lake Superior about 15 miles off the shores of Minnesota and Ontario, although technically part of Michigan. This archipelago encompasses over 400 islands. All of which dwarf the main 45 by 9 mile island, Isle Royale, with 165 miles of trails.

Our more frequented national parks like the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone will see more visitors in a single day than Isle Royale will see in an entire year (approximately 20,000), making it the least visited national park in the United States. It is however, the most revisited park. Over 40% of first time guests will return; a statistic that instantly intrigued me.

Opting for a more spontaneous trip, I didn’t do much planning. I wanted to be surprised. I didn’t want to do a lot of research and expect anything in particular. I did learn about the moose that live on the island however, and saw an opportunity to simultaneously cross 42 off my list, see a wild moose.

My goals were simple: go to an isolated island, hike, camp, lounge in my hammock, see a moose, live in the moment, and slow down the passage of time. How hard could that be?

I purchased my ticket for the Isle Royale Queen IV ferry, departing from Copper Harbor, Michigan, a month before this late-August trip. I left work a little early and drove north through Chicago just missing rush hour, then through Milwaukee while of course singing the theme song from Lavern and Shirley as I passed various breweries. Then I passed Green Bay, which somehow I don’t even remember, but I know I did. My brain ignores a tedious drive as much as anything, and I do a lot of it.

After twelve hours of driving, stopping only for gas, I arrived in Copper Harbor around midnight. I searched for the dock where I would need to be at 8 AM the next morning, then for an unassuming place to sleep in my car.

I pulled into a motel parking lot about 200 feet from the boat. It looked closed. I would be waking early, so I figured nobody would notice a strange man sleeping in his car. Just then, a woman walk to the front desk with a Golden Retriever by her side, holding his beloved tennis ball. I’ve never met a Golden Retriever that didn’t share this peculiar love for tennis balls.

She was heading out the door, so I decided to go talk to her and check for vacancies. The dog’s friendliness was also typical of the breed. He dropped his ball and reared up to put his paws on me, a greeting that never fails to make me happy.

“Get down!” she yelled, but I really didn’t mind. “Can I help you?” she added.

“Are you getting ready to leave for the night?” I asked while crouching down to pet the dog.

“No, just making rounds to check ice machines and whatnot.”

I asked if she had a room available. She did and it would be $60. I quickly went through my options: sleep in the front seat of a small Honda or a bed with blankets and a pillow, shower or no shower, private restroom or find one in a gas station, extra alarm clock or rely on my unreliable cell phone alarm, a private place to change clothes or that gas station bathroom. It was an easy decision.

I put the key in the door numbered 17 and it popped open, unlocked and unlatched. It was a butterscotch colored room with two beds and a hot pink bathroom. The door would barely shut behind me and the curtains didn’t really close all the way, but it was clean (at least on the macroscopic level).

Another benefit to staying here, that I didn’t consider was cable television; I could watch Letterman, which I hardly ever get to do since I don’t have TV at home. His guests were the women’s beach volleyball gold medalists. It was clear I made the right choice in staying. There would be no regrets.

- - -

Thanks for reading, or rereading... I'll re-post part 2 tomorrow. 

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

How to Make an All-Weather Journal

Two of my Trail Notebooks with Grocery Bag Covers

I have never backpacked without a journal in my pocket. Apart from loving to write, I do it because I have a very poor memory. I think of my notebook as a way of saving my thoughts to a hard drive.

Sometimes, I stop to write so often that I don't arrive at my planned destination before dark. I trip from time to time while trying to write while hiking, but who hasn't done that a couple of dozen times in their life?

Recently, I started making my own all-weather notebooks with Rite-in-the-Rain copier paper and fused grocery bags as covers. You'll find detail instructions below.

The notebooks can be made with regular copy paper for about 5¢ each, but one day on my Appalachian Trail thru-hike, I decided to look into waterproof paper. It had been raining all day. I had my journal in a ZipLoc bag in my pocket, but apparently I didn't seal it properly. The pages became water-logged and fragile. The ink bled and smeared. I looked at those disappearing memories like I was watching a photo album melt in a fire.

I ducked into an abandoned bus stop shelter to dry it off as best as I could, then I put it in a dry Ziploc and inside my pack. I vowed to switch to waterproof notebooks.

I could have just spent $5 to buy a Rite-in-the-Rain all-weather notebook, but I enjoy making my own. The only significant expense is buying waterproof paper, which will run about $35 for 200 sheets, or $1.41 each for 25 sixty-four page notebooks up to 4.25" - 5.5" in size.

If there's a good way to waterproof regular paper, while still being able to write on it, I haven't found it, so as of now I'll just have to buy it. If you'll never go through 25 notebooks, you can use the extra paper to print your own waterproof maps.

It's an easy project. And other than cost, a big advantage to making your own notebooks, is being able to print things on the pages, before you bind it. For example, you could print:

• Maps

• Trip itinerary

• Trail information

• Flight, bus, or train information

• Graph paper lines

• Important phone numbers

• Trail food recipes you want to try out

• Instructions on how to tie a bowline knot to hang your new hammock

• A few Sudoku puzzles for when you get bored

• Photos of loved ones

For the covers, I fuse old plastic grocery bags into flat sheets of plastic. Any waterproof material would work, but grocery bags are plentiful and I had been looking for a project to use them on.

Alright, here's how I do it...

Before you get started, you'll need:

• All-Weather Paper (If you want it waterproof, otherwise cheap copier paper will work just fine.)

• Ruler

• Box Cutter or X-Acto Knife with a nice sharp blade

• Sewing Needle

• Thread

• Glue

A thick upholstery needle would be great, but I just use the thickest sewing needle that came with my sewing kit and it works fine. I use heavy-duty polyester outdoor thread. For glue, I use a glue gun, but you can try it with whatever glue you have that is suitable for paper and plastic.

To make the cover out of plastic grocery bags, you'll need:

• Plastic Grocery Bags (Trash bag, Plastic Sheeting, or an old throw-away poncho also works)

• Scissors

• An Iron

• Wax Paper

STEP 1

Decide if you want to print anything on the pages first. If you're using standard Rite-in-the-Rain waterproof paper, you will need a laser printer or copier to do this, inkjets will not work. They do make waterproof paper for inkjets, but it's very expensive.

I tend to print graph paper lines on mine. For printable graph paper, check out printfreegraphpaper.com, or download my graph paper PDF here.

STEP 2

Decide how many pages you want and the dimensions. I like to make the pages about 1/4"-1/2" bigger than what the final notebook will be, because I trim the notebook to size at the end. That way, it has nice clean edges.

Eight pieces of copier paper will make this 64-page notebook.

STEP 3

Next, fold the pages in half, one at a time.

STEP 4

Take 5 or 6 pages and tuck them into each other, like a small book, to make what bookbinders call a "signature," or "folio". You'll be making 3 signatures for this 64-page notebook.

One reason for making three signatures rather than just folding all the paper together into one, is so the book will lay nice and flat when closed. The fold also helps prevent pages from tearing out of your notebook, unlike just gluing them all together at the spine.

STEP 5

Stack the signatures and mark 4 holes equally spaced apart. The holes are where you'll be sewing them together. I used binder clips to hold them in place. If you're going to be trimming the sides at the end, be sure to measure from the center out, so your holes are still relatively centered after trimming.

STEP 6

Poke holes into each mark along the fold in each signature. Put something soft underneath for the needle to go through. I use an eraser.

Now you're going to sew the pages together, like the diagram below. Use heavy duty thread. Polyester or wax-coated thread will be better for waterproofing. Also, wax-coated thread will prevent the thread from cutting into the paper.

STEP 7

Click the image above to enlarge it. I promise this will all seem less complicated once you've done one.

Start by cutting off about 18" of thread and tie a knot about 2" inches from one of the ends, to stop the thread from going all the way through the first hole. Now thread your needle on the other end and sew into hole 1, then out 2, then into 3, and so on in the numbered order on the photo. Keep the string taut as you go, but not so tight that you tear the paper. 

When you go out of hole 10, you're going to tie a knot with the loose piece of thread hanging out of hole 1, and then continue sewing into hole 12. When you get to the end, feed the thread coming out of hole 17 through the loop created between holes 4 and 5.

If you want more pages, and so have more signatures, just keep this same pattern going until you're done. When finished, trim off the excess thread and you'll have something that looks like this: 

Put it aside for now, and next I'll show you how to make a cover by fusing together plastic grocery bags with an iron.

STEP 8

You certainly don't have to use plastic grocery bags to make a cover, but they are waterproof, free, and most of us have tons of them. Also, you'll have something unique that you'll want to show people, and you won't find anything else like it anywhere (that I know of).

A big reason I use plastic grocery bags is because they will otherwise become waste. Try to avoid taking extra bags at the store to make covers if you can, otherwise you're not really recycling anything. If you don't have any extra bags, I'm sure one of your neighbors will.

STEP 9

One standard size grocery bag is enough to make a cover. Just cut off the handles and the bottom of the bag, then fold it in half two times, so you have 8 layers total. As you can see in my photo above, I didn't want any store logos on my cover, so I cut out the blank sections of multiple bags instead, and made a stack of 8 layers.

If you have bags that have colors or designs that you like, even better, get creative. I made the cover on the left with a yellow Dollar General bag layered on top of a bag from Target.

If there is any ink on the bags, make sure that it is not on the top or bottom of the layers, or the heat from the iron will smear it and make a mess. Either turn them upside down, or put a layer without ink on top.

If you do mix bags from different stores, or use bags with lots of ink, they may not fuse as well, but it has worked well for me most times.

You can also use markers to draw your own patterns onto the bags. On this notebook cover, I decided to draw an Appalachian Trail logo. Just remember to place the ink upside down, or put one layer on top of it.

If you look at the image at the top of this post, you'll see that I used this same method on one of my journals to embed the "recycle plastic bags" logo that I found on one of the grocery bags. You could also write something like, "Volume 1" or "2013 Yosemite Trip," to keep multiple notebooks organized.

STEP 10

Place the plastic between two pieces of wax paper on an ironing board. As in the photo above, I trimmed the plastic, so it fits between the wax paper with enough overhang, so they don't come in contact with the iron.

Set your iron temperature to medium-high, or about the same setting for silks. All irons are different, though, so you may have to adjust if it's not hot enough. It doesn't have to be perfect, as you'll see, but if it's not hot enough, it may take a long time to fuse the plastic together. If it's too hot it could melt or shrivel up the plastic too much.

STEP 11

When the iron is hot, iron the bags while maintaining a constant slow motion and applying some pressure. I start from one of the edges and work my way to the opposite side, to prevent air bubbles. The wax paper will stick to the iron at first, but it will get easier after a few passes. Do this for about 30-60 seconds, and then flip it all over to iron the other side. When you're done, peel away the wax paper like a giant Fruit Roll Up.

STEP 12

If all goes well, what you end up with will look something like this. Rub it between your fingers to make sure the layers are all sticking together. If not, iron it again. If it's not sticking well, then the iron may not be hot enough.

STEP 13

So now you have a sheet of plastic to use as a cover. Get the notebook you sewed together and your glue. I prefer using a glue gun, but if you don't have one, most glues suitable for paper and plastic will work.

If longevity or archiving is important to you, use an acid-free glue.

Bend the plastic where the spine of the notebook will go. It's okay if the plastic is bigger than the pages, cause we're going to trim it all up at the end anyway.

STEP 14

Run a line of glue along the spine of the notebook pages and stick it into the bend of the plastic, like the picture below. Note: You want to put hot glue on the paper first, and not into the fold of the plastic first. The glue comes out too hot and can cause the plastic to shrink.

STEP 15

Now using a ruler and box cutter or x-acto knife, trim off the three sides. I do this at the end, so it will have perfect edges, and at this point the cover won't need to be heated anymore, and so, won't shrink anymore.

STEP 16

This step is optional, but I like to glue the first and last page to the cover itself. It gives the cover more rigidity and prevents the cover from ever tearing off. Place a heavy book on top of it while the glue dries to prevent curling. You can use pieces of wax paper on the outside and inside of your covers to keep glue from getting on any of the pages or the heavy book.

And here is the final product! It sounds more complicated than it is. Once you get the hang of it, you can make them pretty quickly.

Other Tips

• The fused plastic grocery bags can be sew together on a sewing machine to make reusable shopping bags, wallets, clothes, or whatever. To give you an example, I sewed pockets in the notebook on the right, to store a credit card and ID. Also, the paper can be taken out so the cover can be reused.

• You don't have to use grocery bags. Trash bags fuse together well also, and have a fake black leather look to them when done. You can also fuse trash compactor bags or plastic sheeting with this method to make custom-size plastic bags for pack liners or waterproof food bags, but I'll talk more about that later.

The Best Backpacking Pen: Space Pen Ink Cartridge

Used to be, when deciding which pen to take on a trip, the most important quality it could have was its proximity to me while I packed. I just grabbed anything, but like every unattached man who spends a considerable percentage of his life walking, I've had plenty of time for superfluous contemplation. Sometimes it might be about the nature of existence or how everything in the universe is connected in a very real way, or I might wonder how salmon would feel if they knew we had a color called "salmon", but it wasn't the color of their healthy scales... My thoughts on the trail aren't always meaningful or useful, but I think about practical things too. Like what would be the best writing utensil for a backpacker. Also, cheeseburgers come up a lot. I write most nights, while lying in a tent or hammock, at weird angles. Sometimes while hiking, I stop to write something down in cold temperatures or at high altitudes and get frustrated with pens that fail. After some research (i.e. watching the "Pen" episode of Seinfeld), I decided to try using the astronaut pen, aka Fisher Space Pen. Actually, I just use the refill ink for it, which offers some advantages for backpackers: It's very lightweight, only 2g It's small enough to fit inside my pocket-sized journal  The refill is relatively inexpensive, $4-6 for the refill, depending where you buy it and if you buy them in bulk. (The full pens cost around $18-30) They write upside down or at any other angle, which is great when laying in a tent It will write on just about anything, even wet or greasy paper.  The ink doesn't smear if the paper gets wet There's never any reason to scribble in your journal to get the ink to start flowing, it just always writes no matter what It can write in altitudes up to 12,500 feet Works in temperatures down to -30°F Its design prevents leaks It lasts three times longer than standard ball point pen and has a shelf life of 100 years   The metal refills are a bit too thin and slick to write with comfortably, so my instinct was to wrap some of my duct tape around it. I already have it with me and it works perfectly fine, but thanks to an idea by Brian Green at Brian's Backpacking Blog, I now wrap it in heat shrink tubing. The tubing runs about $3-4 in most hardware stores, for 8 tubes. First, slide the tube over the pen with about a 1/16th of an inch hanging over the end. Shrink the tube with a heat source. A heat gun works better, but since most people don't have one, I used a lighter to show that it will work too. Constantly move the flame back and forth so you don't burn the tube. It will start shrinking in a couple of seconds. The extra length at the end is to hold it in place, because the rubber tubing will eventually expand slightly and slide off. If it ever does get loose, you can reheat it with the lighter for a few seconds to shrink it again. Now it's comfortable to write with and it stays put when I stick it on my ear, which I do a lot. Final weight, just 3 grams. Want to know more nerdy stuff about the Space Pen? No? Well, that's why I'm writing this at the end... Since I use a space pen, occasionally I hear the joke about how NASA spent millions of dollars to develop a pen that would work in zero-gravity, when crafty Russians solved the problem by using a pencil. This would be a funny anecdote about wasteful government spending if it were true, but it's a myth. What can I say, I'm a huge NASA fan, so I'm compelled to defend them... Actually, NASA didn't develop it, Paul Fisher did, independently and without government money. He presented it to NASA, they tested it thoroughly, and started using it on space missions. Cost to NASA, $2.95 each. It's not clear how much he spent to develop the pen, but it is clear that he did it to market his pen company. The space program was incredibly popular in those days, and he wanted to capitalize on it by making the pen the astronauts used. Hmm, now I'm wondering if his marketing genius had anything to do with that Seinfeld episode. It's true that Russian cosmonauts used pencils, because before these pens were invented, pens didn't work well in extreme temperatures or in a vacuum. Pencils are problematic too, though. Wood and lead burn rapidly in a pure oxygen environment and plastic mechanical pencils with graphite "lead" broke easily, which caused problems when floating around in zero gravity by shorting out electronics and floating into eyes and noses. Then the inventor, Paul Fisher, walk in with an inexpensive solution to a potentially expensive problem, a little cartridge of thixotropic ink hermetically sealed and pressurized with nitrogen gas. It has been used in all manned space missions since. Not long after the Americans adopted the space pen, the Russian started using it as well. So, a story that has been touted as proof of wasteful American spending, is actually a story of American innovation and our entrepreneurial spirit. And most importantly, now I don't have to roll over on my elbow in the middle of the night to write down a thought that I'm convinced is interesting or clever, even if I'm on top of Mount Whitney in the middle of winter. I may have walked 3,000 miles with gear on my back, but rolling over on my elbow to write? Come on, I'm not Superman.

Cleaning Clothes in the Backcountry

"Alright," I said to Lightfoot on our John Muir Trail hike in 2012. "Smell this sock again and tell me if the baking soda made any difference." The sour look on his face gave me the answer as he slowly handed the sock back to me.

After a while on a long distance hike, you start to lose your ability to smell yourself, at least to a certain point. This is a blessing when you're alone, otherwise it's a curse. It would be great if I was a cartoon and could just look up to see if there were stink lines drawn above my head, but sadly I'm not, so Lightfoot offered to smell my socks after a thorough rinse and again after they had soaked in a baking soda and water solution for thirty minutes. Only a true friend would take a bullet like that.

"Hmm, alright, next time I'll let it soak longer or add more baking soda."

I began experimenting with environmentally-safe ways to clean my clothes in the backcountry after hiking the Appalachian Trail. Since I started backpacking, I've pretty much started to define "clean" as "dry," so don't get me wrong, clean out there isn't the same thing as clean at home. I decided, however, that long-distance backpacking would be more enjoyable if I could feel cleaner. Being tranquil and at peace in the natural world is a lot easier if you don’t smell like a corn chip’s foot. That's why cleanliness is next to godliness, and why you haven't seen a drawing of Buddha with stink lines above his head.

First, I pack a recycled plastic bread bag or a one-gallon Ziploc and at least 2 tablespoons of baking soda. Since I'm usually only washing one or two pairs of socks, a pair of underwear, and a lightweight shirt at one time, the bread bag or Ziploc is big enough.

	1. After setting up camp at the end of the day, I put the offending clothes into a one-gallon Ziploc bag.
	2. Then I add water. Don't put the clothes directly in the water source. Clothes hold residual detergents from previous washes, which you may see proof of in the form of suds during the next step. Clothes may also contain other chemicals from deodorants, bug sprays, etc. Consider putting your backpacking clothes through another rinse cycle after you've washed them at home.
	3. Seal the bag with a little bit of air inside. Now, shake it vigorously. This is where most of the cleaning happens, and the longer you agitate the clothes the cleaner they'll get.
	4. Make sure you're at least 200 feet from all water sources then empty the bag and squeeze as much water out of the clothes as you can. Avoid twisting wool and synthetic fabrics when wringing out the water. It's less damaging to roll them up and squeeze the water out. Repeat steps 2 through 4 as often as necessary. I usually do it 3 to 5 times, and agitate for at least a couple minutes each time. This alone will make a tremendous difference, and more so the longer you agitate and the more times you replace the water as you do it. Your clothes will be a lot less smelly, and a lot more comfortable to wear. Actually, if your clothes weren't that dirty to begin with, water and agitation would probably be enough to get them clean. After wearing the same clothes on the trail for a couple days, however, they'll probably still smell at this point, but hey, at least people won’t be able to smell you from ten feet away. If you want to stick with slightly smelly clothes to save weight in your pack and have as little impact on the environment as possible, feel free to skip the next two steps. If you want to get them cleaner, however, it's time to get out the baking soda.
	5. If you want to remove a stain, mix a little water with baking soda to make a paste, apply it to the stain, gently rub the stained fabric into itself, and then continue.
	6. Fill the bag with about a quart of water and about 2 tablespoons of baking soda (more on why I don't use detergents below). Shake vigorously to mix. If you need more water to cover your clothes, just increase the baking soda as well by roughly that same ratio. It doesn't have to be exact. Now, let that soak overnight.
	7. In the morning, go about 200 feet from all water sources, squeeze the baking soda water out the clothes, and then rinse them in the same way as steps 1 through 4.
	8. I attach the wet clothes to my backpack using safety pins, so they can dry while I hike. If it's warm enough, I'll just wear the shirt wet. The synthetic or merino wool fabric my shirts are made of dry quickly from body heat. Safety pins also work great to hang clothes on a line, so wind doesn't blow them off and so you don't have to fold them over the line, which makes them take longer to dry. The odors will continue to decrease as your laundry dries in the sunlight.
	9. And finally, go find Lightfoot and have him sniff your sock to see if it worked.

More Uses for Baking Soda

Before I go into why I don’t use detergents in the backcountry, one reason I take baking soda instead of the other alternatives is it's useful for other things on the trail. For example:

1. You can mix some baking soda and a little water in the palm of your hand to form a paste and use it as a gritty hand and foot scrub to remove dirt and odors.

2. Relieve the itch of bug bites, bee stings, or Poison Ivy by applying the baking soda paste like a salve onto the affected skin.

3. You can scrub cook pots with that baking soda paste solution, as well. Or just sprinkle some on a damp bandanna and scrub away.

4. The paste can also be used to brush your teeth. It doesn't contain fluoride, but it makes a decent toothpaste if you run out.

5. You can also dissolve a teaspoon in 4 ounces of water to make a mouthwash. Slosh it around in your mouth to get rid of bad breath or relieve canker sore or tooth pain.

6. Dust some under your arms and on your feet to use it as a deodorant. Not a good alternative if you're going on a date, but it helps a little bit on the trail.

7. You can cool a sunburn, windburn, or other minor burns or rashes by saturating a bandanna in a warm water and baking soda solution and gently dabbing it onto the affected area.

8. Supposedly, you can rub dry baking soda on your roots to degrease your hair, and then just towel out the excess after 1 to 3 minutes. I haven’t tried this yet, but I have heard of people doing it.

9. Sprinkle some dry baking soda on your dirty clothes so they don’t stink up your whole backpack.

10. Relieve a sore throat by gargling a mixture of ½ teaspoon of baking soda and ½ teaspoon of salt with a ½ cup of warm water a few times a day until it’s gone.

That's a lot, but I'm sure there are many other uses for baking soda on the trail.

Why I Don’t Use Detergents

I'm not totally opposed to people using certain environmentally-friendly biodegradable detergents, but I'm just not convinced any are 100% safe. I prefer to keep as many chemicals out of the backcountry as possible and baking soda is useful in so many other ways.

If you prefer to use a detergent, there are some that are considerably safer for the environment, and safer ways to use them.

First, there are no detergents safe enough to dump directly into a water source, even if the detergent's label has a bright blue sky and green leaves on it, and you can only buy it in a locally-owned co-op from a barefoot hippie drenched patchouli oil. Always dump the wastewater into a 6 to 8” deep hole dug at least 200 feet from a water source, and use it sparingly.

It’s hard to tell which detergents are the safest to use because they don’t have to disclose all ingredients on the label. So, choose a detergent based on what they claim they don’t add. They don't have to legally tell you if it does contain certain things, but false advertising is still illegal (sort of). For example, look for detergents that are phosphate-free, chlorine-free, fragrance-free, dye-free, and ones that are plant-based and contain no petroleum solvents.

Fragrance-free is also important because it can attract animals, but also because companies may be able to hide certain chemicals in their fragrances and still legally claim the product is free of it. (As of this post, that is the case, but there is a proposed law in the US that may change that soon.)

Biodegradable Soap

Also, in addition to the advice above, only use biodegradable detergents. Just remember that no soap is biodegradable in water. Biodegradable soaps are only biodegradable when buried in the soil.

Spend enough time on the trails and you'll eventually hear something like, “I have biodegradable soap, so I just jump in the lake to bathe.” If that is how you’re using it, it’s not biodegradable soap. If biodegradable soap accumulates in water sources, it can lead to excessive plant and algae growth and decrease dissolved oxygen in the water.

To print biodegradable on a label, the product just has to be “capable of being decomposed by biological agents, like bacteria, fungi, or algae, and break down into carbon dioxide, water, and biomass in a reasonable amount of time in the natural environment.” Further, it could take up to six months to biodegrade in the soil, and still be deemed biodegradable. By then, if not properly buried at least 6" in the soil and 200 feet from a water source, it could work itself into the aquatic ecosystem.

Biodegradable soap is a good example of the cobra effect, when an attempted solution to a problem actually makes the problem worse. Overall, biodegradable soaps are a good thing. They are technically much better for the environment, but because the term is often misunderstood, the product is often used in an environmentally unfriendly way. So, a product with good intentions can actually end up being worse for the environment.

It’s like being okay with producing more garbage, because you recycle, or leaving an energy-efficient light bulb on more often because it uses less energy.

Also, since there is an assumption that it is safe for the environment, some people may end up using more of it than they would otherwise. With the method above, a couple drops is all you need.

Here are a few other tips for keeping your clothes clean in the backcountry:

1. You can reduce odor and the number of times you have to wash your clothes, if you wear clothes made of merino wool. It doesn't absorb body odors or hold onto bacteria like most synthetic fabrics, like those used in Under Armor for example.

2. Choose clothing made of materials that will dry fast in the sun. Hiking clothes made to quickly wick moisture from your body will likewise dry fast in the sun after you wash them.

3. If it's overcast and your socks are still a little damp at the end of the day, put them in your sleeping bag at night. Your body heat will help dry them out.

4. Before heading to the trail, wash your clothes at home with just water. This will remove residual detergents and make it safe to jump in a lake with your clothes on to give them a quick wash.

Let me know if you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions by emailing me at ryan@abackpackerslife.com.

My Gear Checklist: Sleeping Pad

Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite Sleeping Pad 12 oz. Is it just me, or does that picture make you also want to be backpacking? This series of gear posts have partially been to show how inexpensive backpacking can be, but this is one item where I was able to silence my typical thriftiness. The comfort of that yellow sleeping pad contributed a lot to that sunset in Badlands National Park. So, whether I'll be sleeping in a tent, hammock, or shelter, I bring along a sleeping pad. In the hammock, it's more for insulation than comfort, so if it's very warm, I can go without it. Otherwise, it's always with me. Since I've been spending such a large percentage of my year sleeping on the ground, I justified buying the most expensive sleeping pad there is, the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite. I didn't actually fact-check that statement, but I've never seen anything more expensive. It was especially expensive when compared to my first sleeping pad, a $6 piece of blue closed-cell foam from Wal-Mart. If you're looking to save money, definitely start out with a blue foam pad (8 - 12 oz.) or something slightly better like the $35 Therm-a-Rest ZLite Sol (10-14 oz.) Before my first trip, I cut the blue foam mat down to torso length, to reduce its weight to 8 oz. That got me by just fine on my first few backpacking trips, but I didn't sleep very well and woke up with a sore back. Once I realized I was in love with life on the trail, and knew I would be doing a lot more of it, I decided to upgrade to a torso length Therm-a-Rest ProLite (11 oz.) for around $80. Later, I realized that torso-length pads with my legs hanging off the end made me colder at night, so I needed a warmer sleeping bag to compensate. That meant I wasn't really saving much weight. So, I regretted that purchase. Since I'm cheap and reluctant to add more ounces to my pack, I stuck with that pad for a few years. Until one morning when I woke up to the sound of a dog chasing a cat. I had been couchsurfing with someone in Vermont when hiking the Long Trail. I felt her dog and cat run across me and my sleeping pad. I fell back to sleep, but a few minutes later, woke up again when I realized I was on the hard floor. The animals poked a hole in the pad. I didn't care, though. One, I loved her happy dog and believed it could do no wrong, and two, I finally had my excuse to upgrade. The NeoAir XLite weighed about the same (12 oz.), but was full length, three times as thick, and looked way more comfortable. Then I saw the price tag. "Oh snap, $160!?" What follows is a dramatization, loosely based on my actual decision-making process. The figurative angel and devil popped up on my shoulders, "Ryan, you're spending most nights outside, this is your bed now. It's okay to spend money on it," said the devil. "But Ryan, you're not working right now, you can't spend that kind of money," said the angel, who had a point. "Good sleep is better for your health," the devil interjected. "You'll be happier and live longer if you start sleeping better." "But it's $160, that's more than you spent on your real bed," said the know-it-all angel SOB who suddenly didn't seem to care about my well-being. "This cozy and warm NeoAir has an R-Value of 3.2, one more than your old sleeping pad," the brilliant devil said. "And it's only one ounce heavier than your other Therm-a-Rest, that you regretted buying, the one you wasted $80 on. You want to waste even more money by buying something else you won't like?"  The devil just about had me convinced with the idea that I would be wasting money. He used my cheapness against me. "And," he continued, "The NeoAir XLite packs down to the size of a Nalgene bottle, that's simply unprecedented. We need this sleeping pad. Ryan..." He leaned closer to my ear and whispered, "We deserve this sleeping pad." He was right, of course. "But Ryan," said the angel who, foreseeing defeat, collapsed to his knees and began to beg. "We could just patch your old one for next to nothing..." "Oh shut up, angel, nobody likes you!" Which I'd like you to pretend I whisper yelled to my empty shoulder in the crowded outfitter. "And honestly, angel, I'm starting to question the very point of you? We need this to be happy and healthy, don't you see? It's as though you want us to die sad and bitter, because that's exactly what will happen if we don't buy this." Betrayed and alone, the angel vanished. I made my way to the checkout. And... Scene. Back in reality, what followed were weeks of buyer's remorse. The thickness of the pad seemed almost uncomfortable at first, and I missed the days of being able to throw my sleeping pad on the ground to sit on, without worrying about getting a hole in it. Every night, I was on the ground fastidiously removing every sharp rock before setting up my tent. I didn't exactly resemble Rick Moranis searching in his backyard for his tiny children in 'Honey, I Shrunk the Kids', but sadly, I can't say it wasn't similar. Eventually, I forgot about the money and realized I didn't have to be so careful with it. For its thinness it holds up pretty well. I also started using the sit pad that doubles as the back padding of my Mariposa Plus backpack, so I still have a worry-free thing to throw on the ground to sit on without adding more ounces. On my first night below freezing, I realized how much warmer I was. And once I figured out the right amount of air to blow into it for maximum comfort, I did sleep much better. For the first time, I could sleep through the whole night without waking up once. And so, I lived happily ever after. The End.

M Y   G E A R   L I S T • Backpack • Backpack Liner • Shelter • Sleeping Bag • Sleeping Pad • Cooking Supplies • Food • Food Container • Water Treatment • Clothing • First Aid & Toiletries • Hand Sanitizer • Ziploc for Laundry • Baking Soda • Bandannas • Headlamp • Ziploc Wallet • Lighter and Matches • 50' of Paracord • 15' Braided Mason's Cord • Bug Repellent • Camera • All-Weather Journal • Space Pen (Refill) • Map & Compass • Book • Cell Phone • Knife • Duct Tape • Extra Ziploc bags • Trekking Poles

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under
a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

My Gear Checklist: Sleeping Bag

Sleeping Bag 26 - 45 oz. One morning on the Appalachian Trail, Liv woke up and said, "I can't wait until the day is over so I can get back into this sleeping bag." She hadn't even gotten out of it yet. I mention that to illustrate how great a great sleeping bag can be. I carry one of two synthetic bags. A lightweight 40°F bag in the summer that weighs 26 oz., and if temperatures could get colder than that, I take a 15°F bag, which weighs 45 oz. Note: I fill my sleeping bag stuff sack with extra clothes, rain gear, bandannas, or any other soft gear I'm not using that night, to make a pillow. If you can't afford two sleeping bags starting out, a 30°F - 35°F bag is a good compromise, and you can always add a sleeping bag liner to reduce the temperature rating an additional 8 - 15°. S L E E P I N G   B A G   L I N E R S If a 30° bag isn't going to be warm enough on a particular trip, and don't want to spend a couple hundred dollars on a second sleeping bag, for about $50 - $60 you can get a sleeping bag liner and subtract up to 15°F from your bag's temperature rating. I'm currently working on making my own for a fraction of this cost, more on that later. They offer other benefits as well. Liners are more comfortable against your skin than the typical sleeping bag nylon or polyester. They will minimize wear and keep your bag cleaner. A liner can be washed separately, reducing the number of times you have to wash your sleeping bag. Washing can compress your bag's insulation and make it considerably less warm. Not to mention cause even more wear and tear. In other words, a liner can save money in the long run by extending the life of your sleeping bag. And if you're camping in very warm weather, you can leave the bag at home and just sleep inside your lightweight 8 oz. liner. T E M P E R A T U R E   R A T I N G S When deciding on which temperature rating you'll need, remember that manufacturers assume you are wearing a layer of thermal underwear and laying on a sleeping pad. And since metabolisms vary, and the rating methods vary from one manufacturer to another, temperature ratings are only a guide. If you're a cold sleeper, if you're not staying in a tent, or you're not using a well-insulated sleeping pad, you'll probably want to add at least 10-15 degrees to the rating. W H Y   I   U S E   S Y N T H E T I C   O V E R   D O W N ? Because I'm cheap. I'm not proud of that, but I am what I am. Down bags are much lighter than synthetic, so I would love to have one, but the weight savings comes at a significantly higher cost. When trying to get my pack weight lower, I made a list of all my gear that I knew could be lighter. Then I figured out how much it would cost to replace each item and how many ounces it would save. (Yeah, I used an Excel Spreadsheet. I can't decide if I should be ashamed of this attention to detail. You could say this is either smart or borderline obsessive compulsive and I'd agree with you either way.) Next, I sorted the list by highest weight savings per dollar and slowly replaced those items first. Replacing my sleeping bag was near the bottom of that list, so I haven't replaced it. Rather than admit my cheapness, I could have told you I go with synthetic because a down bag won't dry as fast and will lose 90% of it's thermal properties if it gets wet, which is definitely true, but so far, I've never gotten one wet. I keep my sleeping bag in a water-resistant stuff sack in addition to the two trash compacter bags that line my pack. I could drop it in a lake and it should stay dry. So, yeah. The real reason I use a synthetic bag, is that they are much cheaper. I found my 40° bag on clearance off-season at Backcountry.com for $38, not bad for a 26 oz. bag. If I wanted to spend 10 times more than that, I could have bought a high quality down bag and saved 10 or 11 ounces, but I have a hard time justifying that. My 15° synthetic bag cost about $170 and weighs 2 lbs. 13 oz. When I'm able or willing to spend 2-3 times that amount on a 15° down bag, I'll be able to shave a pound off the weight. Again, I haven't been able to convince myself to do that yet. O T H E R   F E A T U R E S   T O   C O N S I D E R Sleeping pad sleeve - I haven't used a bag with this feature yet, but it intrigues me. Some sleeping bags have the underside insulation removed and replaced with a sleeve for your sleeping pad. It has the added benefit of preventing you from rolling off your sleeping pad at night, which can make you cold and interrupt your much needed sleep. Zipper compatibility - If you're backpacking with your significant other, you can purchase sleeping bags that zip together to form a two-person sleeping bag, but still use them separately too. Finally, I won't recommend specific sleeping bags because there are so many great ones that will work just fine and I can't try them all. I'll just say that you're doing fine if your summer bag weighs less than 2 lbs, and your cold weather bag weighs less than 3. Also, if you're new to this and reluctant to use a mummy bag. Remember they are warmer for the weight. When I bought my first mummy bag I thought I would feel claustrophobic, but I quickly got used to it.

M Y   G E A R   L I S T • Backpack • Backpack Liner • Shelter • Sleeping Bag • Sleeping Pad • Cooking Supplies • Food • Food Container • Water Treatment • Clothing • First Aid & Toiletries • Hand Sanitizer • Ziploc for Laundry • Baking Soda • Bandannas • Headlamp • Ziploc Wallet • Lighter and Matches • 50' of Paracord • 15' Braided Mason's Cord • Bug Repellent • Camera • All-Weather Journal • Space Pen (Refill) • Map & Compass • Book • Cell Phone • Knife • Duct Tape • Extra Ziploc bags • Trekking Poles

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

My Gear Checklist: Backpack Liner

Two Trash Compactor Bags 3 oz. each No rain cover will keep your gear dry in a downpour, so I don't bother carrying one anymore. Water is insidious, it will find a way in. A bag liner is much more effective. And it's cheaper and lighter. I use trash compactor bags because they are thicker than regular trash bags. I use two in case one gets a hole in it, but also because I use them for other purposes at camp. When using a tent or cowboy camping under the stars, I use two as a ground cloth. When sleeping in a hammock, I'll lay one on the ground beside the hammock to stand on when changing clothes or when getting in and out of my sleeping bag. I sometimes use the other bag to store all my gear in at night to keep it dry or to waterproof my food bag hanging in a tree. Pack Rain Cover A pack rain cover will cost $25 - $40, but if you want your gear to stay dry, you'll still need to line your pack, or use several dry bags which can cost $10 - $30 each. I bought a pack of trash compactor bags for $10 in 2006 and didn't use them all until 2012,  and my gear has never gotten soaked. So, if you're looking to save money, this is an easy way to do it without reducing any comfort, convenience, or safety. When I want more protection for more sensitive items, like a digital camera, or when I want to keep small items organized like my first aid kit, I use Ziploc Freezer Bags with the double seal. Avoid generics, Hefty brand zip locks, or any bag with the zipper top, they can't be trusted. ZipLocs are cheaper and lighter than dry-bags, especially lighter than clear dry-bags, but admittedly, ZipLocs are not as environmentally-friendly, so someday I may switch. That being said, nothing is better for the environment than a population that has developed a deep fondness for the outdoors. If finding ways to save money gets more people to try backpacking, then I believe in the long run we'll all be doing more to protect it. At least that's what I tell myself to reduce any eco-guilt. Anyway, enough preachiness, every once in a while I get a small tear in the liner, as you're probably assuming, but it doesn't happen often. When it does, I patch it up with a small piece of duct tape, which I always have wrapped around my trekking poles. One final note, if using trash compactor bags for a ground cloth, be sure to fold in the parts of the trash bag that stick out under your tent. Otherwise, it will divert rain water under your tent, which defeats some of it's purpose.

M Y   G E A R   L I S T • Backpack • Backpack Liner • Shelter • Sleeping Bag • Sleeping Pad • Cooking Supplies • Food • Food Container • Water Treatment • Clothing • First Aid & Toiletries • Hand Sanitizer • Ziploc for Laundry • Baking Soda • Headlamp • Ziploc Wallet • Lighter and Matches • 50' of Paracord • 15' Braided Mason's Cord • Bug Repellent • Camera • All-Weather Journal • Space Pen (Refill) • Map & Compass • Book • Cell Phone • Knife • Duct Tape • Extra Ziploc bags • Trekking Poles

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

What I Carry With Me Out There

My first set of gear, all of which has been replaced

One of the great aspects of the backpacking life, is the freedom you feel when you only have what you can carry on your back. I get asked what I have on mine quite a bit, so below you'll find my list. It's amazing what you can live without.

Today, I'll just talk about the backpack, but eventually I'll post about each item. I'll give advice for buying gear, suggest tips for saving money, and in some cases, give detailed instructions on how to save money by making your own gear.

Most of my advice will be for new backpackers (especially those wanting to save money on their first set of gear), because with experience your gear gets modified and minimized until it is unique to your own comforts and needs. Mine certainly has evolved over the years.

Nevertheless, I hope I can also give a few ideas to a seasoned pro to consider or criticize. Please leave any thoughts and suggestions in the comments below.

Mariposa Plus, by Gossamer Gear 26 oz. I purchased two other packs before finally settling on the Mariposa Plus, by Gossamer Gear. There are a couple ways to save money on a pack, but none would have saved me more than getting more experience before buying my first one. My problem was that I didn't have a friend with a pack to borrow and I didn't lived near an outfitter that rented out gear (such as REI). My first mistake was buying my first pack online. Since I didn't have an outfitter nearby, I didn't get fitted or get to try on multiple packs. Consequently, the pack didn't fit right and I didn't have enough experience to even realize that was the problem. All I knew was, after my first three miles, my shoulders were already getting sore and I was wondering what I got myself into. All packs will seem comfortable when empty, so a good outfitters will give you sand bags to put inside the packs to simulate the full weight and will be able to tell you if it's fitted properly. For my second pack, I drove ninety minutes to the nearest outfitter. It fit much better this time, but after a few trips I decided to reduce my gear weight and found backpacks that were 2 lbs. lighter, but just as comfortable. That's important to remember when looking for an ultralight pack. A one-pound backpack, with a total packed weight of 21 pounds, might be less comfortable than a five-pound backpack with a total weight of 25 pounds. Lightweight is important, but not more important than comfort. Also, the comfort of a pack will drop the heavier it is. That might go without saying, but generally an ultralight pack will not hold more than 25 - 30 lbs. comfortably. Make sure to put enough sand bags in when testing one out. It might feel great at 25 lbs., but terrible at 35. So, finally, three packs and $550 later, I had a pack I was happy with. B U Y I N G   O N L I N E If you're lucky enough to have a knowledgeable local outfitter, who can answer all your questions, it's well worth it to support that business. That being said, there are a couple benefits to buying a backpack online other than finding a better price and seeing a wider selection. The first that comes to mind is that I haven't yet seen a backpack in an outfitter that has an interchangeable suspension system. With some online companies, like Gossamer Gear and ULA Equipment, you can customize your backpack by selecting different size hip belts, torso lengths, and shoulder straps. If you're like me, and nothing seems to fit exactly right, you may find it beneficial to be able to order a pack with a large torso length, let's say, but have them attach their medium-size hip belt. Also, many online outfitters have pages devoted to sales and clearance items that you can check periodically for deals, such as these pages at REI, Campmor, and Backcountry.com. When buying online, checkout the return policy. REI, for example, will let you return any item for almost any reason, even if you have used it on the trail. If you live near an REI, or any store with a similar policy, that's a good place for a beginner to start. B U Y I N G   U S E D   G E A R Expect to spend at least $125 - $250 on a backpack, if you buy new. If that's not an option for you, start by looking for a used pack. Many people buy backpacking gear, but after one or two trips find out it isn't for them and want to recoup some of their money. It's like exercise equipment, you can find good deals on barely used items. Many outfitters sell used gear in their stores, or you can find a lot of used packs online at sites like GearTrade, eBay, or Craigslist. When looking for used gear, remember that many outdoor gear companies will repair their products for free, for life. If you find a good deal on a pack with some kind of defect, call the manufacturer and see if they'll fix it for free. I recently sent a backpack to Gregory Packs that had a pretty major flaw, a torn zipper that left a giant hole exposed. I suspected this would be covered under their lifetime warranty and it was. They fixed it free and sent it back. It only cost me $4 in shipping. Some people don't want to mess with the return process, or don't even know their pack has a lifetime warranty. Take advantage of that if you can. G E T T I N G   A   P R O P E R   F I T If you're unable to get to a good outfitter to be sized properly, or if you'll be buying online, here's how to fit yourself for a pack. First, get your torso length. Have a friend measure your spine between two points. The starting point is your C7 vertebra (the vertebra at the base of your neck that protrudes when you touch your chin to your chest). Next, imagine a horizontal line on your lower back going across the top of your hips (the Iliac Crest). Where this line intersects with your spine is the ending point for your measurement. If you're like most adults, your torso length will fall between 16 and 22 inches. Next, measure around your waist at the top of your hipbones. Those two measurements will get you close to a perfect fit, without having to try it on before ordering. There are other factors that you still won't know before trying it on, though. For example, how it feels with a full weight, the placement of shoulder straps, or the location of side pockets, which you want to be able reach without taking off your pack. Check out the return policy before ordering and if something isn't right, send it back. Losing a few bucks in return shipping is much better than being uncomfortable on the trail. C A P A C I T Y I didn't want to get into specific pack features on this post, because everyone has their preferences. There is one more thing you'll want to consider when buying your first pack, though, the total capacity. This is largely a personal preference as well, but a beginner might wonder how big is big enough. For me, 3,600 cu. in. (Or 59 L) of total capacity, is the right combination of being large enough to fit what I need, without being so large that I'm tempted to carry something I don't need. I can fit all my gear and a week's supply of food. That's it for now. Don't forget to leave your comments or suggestions below!

M Y   G E A R   L I S T • Backpack • Backpack Liner • Shelter • Sleeping Bag • Sleeping Pad • Cooking Supplies • Food • Food Container • Water Treatment • Clothing • First Aid & Toiletries • Hand Sanitizer • Ziploc for Laundry • Baking Soda • Bandannas • Headlamp • Ziploc Wallet • Lighter & Matches • 50' of Paracord • 15' Braided Mason's Cord • Bug Repellent • Camera • All-Weather Journal • Space Pen (Refill) • Map & Compass • Cell Phone • Knife • Duct Tape • Extra Ziploc bags • Trekking Poles

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.