Painted Desert

Painted Desert

Thursday, April 23, 2020

What's in My Pack?

I got a request for a post about what I bring with me on backpacking trips. Since I'm not exactly having any adventures right now, it seemed as good a topic for a post as any.


This is, more or less, what I bring with me. (A few things didn't make it into the pictures because I forgot about them until later, but I'll still be mentioning them below.) I'll list each item briefly for the mildly curious. After that, I will go over every item in more detail so you can read about why I use that item or what I like/don't like about it. You can search for the extra detail by using the item's name or number.

This gear set is optimized for use in the Colorado Rockies, by a woman who gets cold easily. All these items, with water and a weekend's food added - save the items I wear - weigh about 22 pounds together.

If you look up these items you will find that some of them are extremely expensive. Top-quality items are not necessary to have fun, but I backpack enough that high-end gear is worth it to me. A higher price tag buys you lighter weight, better waterproofing, and (often) greater durability, meaning you will be less tired and wet and may have fewer field failures. But attitude, not gear, is the main determiner of how much fun you will have backpacking.

Almost nothing I use was purchased at retail price. Outdoor gear sales are frequent, and at used item sales such as the REI garage sales you can get barely-used items at half off or more.



PACK


01. Pack - Gossamer Gear Mariposa 60 liter pack


02. Back pad: tucked in the back of the pack is a Gossamer Gear Thinlight pad.

Fully-loaded pack hanging on tree



IN PACK


Top left:

03. Food bag: Ursack Major

04. Odor control: Loksak Opsack

05. Hydration: Platypus Big Zip LP 3 Liter hydration bladder, stock bite valve replaced with Camelbak bite valve

06. Water treatment: Sawyer Squeeze hollow fiber filter connected to bladder hose with Sawyer In-Line Adapter

Middle left:

07. Pack liner: trash compactor bag

08. Base layer: orange synthetic shirt from thrift store

09. Insulation: fleece pants from Dick's Sporting Goods

10. Pad: Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite

Bottom left:

11. Mid layer: blue long-sleeved synthetic shirt from thrift store. I will bring this OR #58 dependent on temps. This one is for cooler weather.

12. Extra socks: Darn Tough merino/synthetic blend hiking socks

13. Reading material: book. I only bring a book sometimes.

Right:

14. Sleeping bag: Western Mountaineering Apache MF 15 degree down bag

15. Jacket: Arc'Teryx Thorium AR down hoody

Not shown, because I forgot it:

16. Fuel: I use either the 110g or 250g canisters, any brand



OUTSIDE OF PACK


The Mariposa has a whopping 7 external pockets, allowing easy access to a lot of items. One of these is a tent pocket along the side, which lets you to store your wet tent without getting anything else wet.

Top row:

17a. Tent (body, fly, and poles): Big Agnes Fly Creek HV UL 1

Second row:

18. Tent footprint: DIY polycryo sheet made from Duck patio door shrink film kit

17b. Tent (stakes): Big Agnes Fly Creek HV UL 1

19. Filter accessory: Sawyer Squeeze syringe for backflushing Sawyer Squeeze filter

20. Filter accessory: quart ziploc with one corner cut off for drawing water from shallow sources

21. Sundries bag: see below for contents

22. First aid kit: see below for contents

23. Extra bag: supermarket bag

24. Bandana: cotton bandana

25. Carabiner: Gossamer Gear Mini Biner

26. Camp/water crossing shoes: Dawgs something... not sure they make this model in adult sizes anymore

Third row:

27. Pot: OliCamp Space Saver Mug

28. Stove: Snow Peak GigaPower canister stove

29. Ball: racquetball for rolling out muscles

30. Headlamp: Princeton Tec Fred

31. Head net: possibly Coghlan's?

32. Gloves: possibly Fox River? fingerless wool gloves

33. Warm hat: Repreve synthetic cap (no longer made)

34. Bug spray: Sawyer 20% picaridin insect repellant, 3oz. size, in quart ziploc in case of leakage

35. Hammock: netting hammock from Walmart (no longer sold)

36. Spoon: Toaks titanium long handled spoon

37. Trowel: sand stake from REI

Bottom row:

38. Quart ziploc: holds hygiene items. Inside, items 38-40...

39. Anti-chafing: BodyGlide pocket size

40. Cleaning: Wet Ones sensitive skin fragrance & alcohol free wipes placed in ziploc

41. Floss: one strand of floss

42. Toothbrush: no, I do not cut the handle off (I typically do not bring toothpaste on weekend trips, either, but still brush).

43. Sunglasses: sunglass film roll that you get when they dilate you at the eye doctor

44. Trash bag: sandwich size ziploc for putting snack wrappers and litter into while I hike

45. Sunscreen: travel size tube

46. Lip balm: with sunscreen

47. Sanitizer: travel size sanitizer bottle

48. Rain pants: Marmot Precip pants

49. Rain jacket: Patagonia M10 (no longer made)

Not shown, because I forgot them for photo:

50. Map of area: I prefer National Geographic Trails Illustrated maps

51. Phone: Sony Xperia XZ1 Compact phone

52. Camera: Sony RX100 miii

53. Battery: extra camera battery

54. Toilet paper: just enough for the trip, in a ziploc



WORN


Top row:

55. Sun hat: Prana cap

56. Watch: Armitron digital watch with alarm from Walmart

57. Socks: Darn Tough merino/synthetic blend socks

58. Boots: Altra Lone Peak 4 Mid RSM (Men's)

Bottom Row:

59. Shorts: track shorts from thrift store

60. Mid layer: REI Sahara shirt. I wear this OR #11 dependent on temps. This one is for warmer weather.

Not shown, because why would I show you my underwear:

61. Underwear: cotton briefs

62. Bra: regular bra


FIRST AID KIT


Top row:

63. Antibacterial: small antibacterial packets

64. Blister patches: ENGO blister patches

65. Bandaids: large bandaids

66. Tape: Leukotape strips

Second row:

67. Bandage: self-sticking stretchy bandage roll, with...

68. Gloves: nitrile gloves tucked inside

69. Sewing kit: that's what it is.

70. Bandaids: medium bandaids

71. Blister pads: 2nd Skin blister pads

Third row:

72. Foam: callus cushions

73. Antiseptic: iodine prep pads

74. Gaze: gauze pads



SUNDRIES BAG


Top row:

75. Paper: scrap paper for writing

76. Pen: it's a pen!

77. Reading material: article ripped out of a magazine (I often bring this instead of a book)

78. Bags: more ziplocs, because bags are oh so handy

79. Bags: bread bags. Can go over dry socks and back into boots to keep dry socks dry, or over hands to keep gloves dry when using trekking poles

80. Patches: patches for sleeping pad repair

Second row:

81. Lighter: Bic lighter

82. Knife: Victorinox Swiss Army Nail Clip knife with nail clipper, scissors, tweezers, toothpick, nail file/cleaner, and small blade

83. Tape: medical tape

84. Medicine: small container for earplugs which carries not earplugs but my medication and NSAIDs

85. Candle: birthday candle for help getting a fire started in emergency

86. Hair tie: it's a hair tie. Useful for hair, or attaching things to things

87. Filter: coffee filters for use as pre-filter if water has high sediment content

88. Paper clip: for who knows what

89. Safety pins: you never know

90. Game: 1.5" playing cards

91. Earplugs: Mack's slim fit soft foam earplugs -- in clear tube, along with...

92. Back-up light: small LED light -- also in clear tube

Bottom row:

93. Medicine: antacid and anti-diarrheal medications, with dosing instructions

94. Pads: two panty liners, held with rubber band around..

95. Mirror: S.O.L. rescue flash mirror, small

96. Tape: Gear Aid Tenacious Tape gear repair tape

97. Compass: Brunton TruArc 3

98. Matches: UCO Gear compact safety matches

Not shown, because I forgot to put them in:

99. Keys: house and car keys only

100. Driver's license and credit card

Optional item (not shown):

101. Umbrella: Six Moon Designs Silver Shadow



DETAIL

Now, here's a little more detail about these items. Why do I carry them, or why do I use that kind/brand/etc.?

PACK

01. Pack - Gossamer Gear Mariposa 60 liter pack

I like this pack. I settled on it after trying a few different lightweight packs. It's 2 pounds and carries up to about 25 pounds comfortably, and 30+ without terrible discomfort. I like the large amount of space in the exterior pockets, letting me reach a lot of things without having to dig into my pack. I don't like doing off-trail hiking in forest or brush, so I don't have to worry about items/pockets getting snagged much. This is a good pack for my needs.

02. Back pad: tucked in the back of the pack is a Gossamer Gear Thinlight pad.

The Mariposa comes with an egg-crate-type pad in the pack, which can be removed and used as a sit pad. I replaced this pad with their Thinlight pad, which when unfolded can be stacked with my air mattress pad for extra warmth. I can also spread it out on the ground for doing my physical therapy exercises.

IN PACK

03. Food bag: Ursack Major

The kevlar-like fabric of this bag cannot be torn by bears, so in theory it keeps scavenging bears from getting a food reward from raiding human campsites. Since bears apparently can't untie knots, you simply tie it to a tree, which is about a thousand times easier than hanging a traditional bear bag. Based on what I've read, I'm somewhat skeptical that the Ursack is anywhere near as good as a bear canister in terms of either protecting your food or protecting bears (that is, bears can still get a taste from punctured food packaging, and may be encouraged to seek out more human campsites to raid, resulting in their eventual extermination). However, it's much lighter than a bear canister and considering that problem bears have been extremely rare in Colorado (outside of Rocky Mountain NP), I am going with this for now.

I bring about a pound and a half of food per day.

04. Odor control: Loksak Opsack

These heavy-duty zip plastic bags are meant to go inside the Ursack and stop food odors, lessening the chance of a bear discovering your Ursack. Some on the internet have pointed out that a bear's sense of smell is that they can detect such that such and such tiny number of scent molecules in the air from such and such a distance, but I tend to think that less scent is better overall and so I use them. The trash goes in here too, and at night any other scented items do as well.

05. Hydration: Platypus Big Zip LP 3 Liter hydration bladder, stock bite valve replaced with Camelbak bite valve

I love this bladder. Easy to fill, easy to close, doesn't have the horrible taste that Camelbak bladders have. I didn't like the Platypus bite valve so I put a Camelbak flow switch and bite valve on it. Usually I do not put the bladder in the bladder sleeve in the pack, because it's a pain to get it in there when the pack is packed. I just sit it on top of everything next to my food.

One of the complaints against water bladders (prompting some to use bottles instead) is that they tend to leak, either through failed parts or user error. Since I pack my sleeping bag, clothes and book in the trash compactor bag, they're safe from water or fuel spills and I don't have to worry about leaks.

06. Water treatment: Sawyer Squeeze hollow fiber filter connected to bladder hose with Sawyer In-Line Adapter

I love the Sawyer Squeeze too, specifically having it inline on the hose. I fill the bladder with dirty water and suck, and it pulls through the filter. Some people don't like this because it reduces the flow rate from the hose, but it doesn't bother me. I love getting clean water without any pumping, squeezing or waiting. When I'm with a partner I use it as a gravity filter to make clean water for them too, hanging the bladder and letting water flow through the filter.

07. Pack liner: trash compactor bag

I don't use my sleeping bag stuff sack, both to save weight and because the stuffed sack is rounded, which isn't a good use of space. Instead, I put the trash compactor bag in the pack and stuff the sleeping bag right into the bottom of it. Then I put my clothes, pad, and book in and roll the top of the bag over. These things are now more or less waterproofed -- at least, better than they would be by a stuff sack or a pack rain cover.

Plastic bags are always a good thing to have along, and an especially large one is especially good. It could be used to carry a large amount of water to douse a fire, or shaped into a poncho, or used as a bellows to inflate your sleeping pad if your lungs are struggling in the alpine air, or put over the end of your sleeping bag to protect it from condensation, or many other things.

08. Base layer: orange synthetic shirt from thrift store

Love this shirt. Synthetic is more comfortable than cotton when wet and it dries much faster. Some brands/blends are better than others at combating odor.

09. Insulation: fleece pants from Dick's Sporting Goods

Many people do not need a layer like this, or use a thinner one such as long underwear. But I get cold easily once I stop moving. These pants can be pulled over my shorts. I wear them around camp in the mornings and evenings (under my rain pants) and to bed.

10. Pad: Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite

This is the best pad. Very comfy and light and packs up very small. Some people don't like the crackling noise produced by the mylar layers, but it doesn't bother me at all, and -- more importantly -- has not bothered any of my partners. These pads are more durable than they look. However, I got a NeoAir XTherm, their winter pad, at an REI garage sale and am thinking of switching to that as it is only 1 ounce lighter but much warmer.

I don't use a pillow; I just bunch up my rain gear and put my head on it.

11. Mid layer: blue long-sleeved synthetic shirt from thrift store. I will bring this OR #58 dependent on temps. This one is for cooler weather.

I prefer this knit shirt when temps are cooler as it's warmer and easier to layer over.

12. Extra socks: Darn Tough merino/synthetic blend hiking socks

I only bring two pairs of socks. Darn Tough socks are amazing and you should try them if you haven't already. They are incredibly soft but last forever. If you manage to wear a hole in them, the company will replace them for free.

13. Reading material: book. I only bring a book sometimes.

I save small paperback books that come into my possession since these are the kind I would take backpacking, if I take anything at all.

14. Sleeping bag: Western Mountaineering Apache MF 15 degree down bag

This is a top-of-the-line bag. (If you are a going to spend a bunch of money on something, a sleeping bag is a good candidate as, unlike most other equipment, one can last your whole life.) However, I'm not crazy about it. I still get cold too often, and the velcro closures at the hood are scratchy. Also, it's petty, but I don't like the color. Pondering swapping it out for a Feathered Friends bag.

In the Colorado mountains, it frequently gets below freezing even in the summer. I once had it get down to 21 degrees on Fourth of July weekend. Many people can make do with a 35 degree bag or so, but I am not one of them.

15. Jacket: Arc'Teryx Thorium AR down hoody

This is perhaps my favorite piece of gear, if not my favorite clothing item that I own. It just fits me perfectly and is so light it's like wearing nothing at all. It's also very windproof.

16. Fuel: I use either the 110g or 250g canisters, any brand

When you're only heating up a little water for instant oatmeal in the morning and for mashed potatoes in the evening, my typical meal staples, fuel goes a long way. (Water does not need to boil to make instant oats or mashed potatoes from flakes.)

OUTSIDE OF PACK

17a. Tent (body, fly, and poles): Big Agnes Fly Creek HV UL 1

This tent is okay. I would like more head room. I will probably keep using it until it falls apart, but if I could go back I might go for a single-wall tent. Whenever there's condensation, it's pretty much impossible to remove the fly from the Fly Creek in the morning without shaking water down into the tent. And if I'm going to have water all over the interior of my tent anyway, I'd rather have the weight savings that come with a single-wall tent.

18. Tent footprint: DIY polycryo sheet made from Duck patio door shrink film kit

This thing works very well and I highly recommend making your own footprint rather than blowing big money on the one from the tent manufacturer. Get some heavy duty window shrink wrap and cut it to fit under your tent without sticking out, then attach bungee loops with duct tape so the sheet can attach to the tent poles or stakes. It's fairly durable and holes can simply be patched with tape, saving you several ounces and $40-80+ over a fabric footprint.

17b. Tent (stakes): Big Agnes Fly Creek HV UL 1

More of the tent. Except for the stake sack, I don't use the tent stuff sacks. They're not necessary. I stuff the separate parts into the large tent pocket on the side of the Mariposa.

19. Filter accessory: Sawyer Squeeze syringe for backflushing Sawyer Squeeze filter

This somewhat bulky item is essential for maintaining a good flow rate on the filter.

20. Filter accessory: quart ziploc with one corner cut off for drawing water from shallow sources

This is very useful for getting water from sources shallow enough that dipping the bladder in would cause sediment to be stirred up. Just dip the ziplock in, then hold it over the bladder and let the water run out of the corner into it.

21. Sundries bag: see below for contents

I just use a quart ziploc to keep this stuff in and replace it when it gets holes.

22. First aid kit: see below for contents

A sandwich ziploc for this one. I have put together my own first aid kit based on the items I need most as well as a few emergency items that I have never needed.

23. Extra bag: supermarket bag

Another handy plastic bag for whatever use. Often as a trash bag because I forgot to bring a gallon ziplock for my food waste.

24. Bandana: cotton bandana

Another multi-use item. Great for soaking in cold streams then tying around your neck on hot days, or suspending your pack from a tree limb.

25. Carabiner: Gossamer Gear Mini Biner

I have never used this. It came with my pack, I think. Still, one can imagine many uses for a carabiner.

26. Camp/water crossing shoes: Dawgs something... not sure they make this model in adult sizes anymore

These are amazing camp shoes. Much lighter than Crocs, and stay on your feet better. Dawgs may not make this particular model anymore, but there are many such foam shoes out there. I prefer these to flip-flops due to the fact that they stay on better in a river, and also because I could hike in them if I was having an issue with my boots.

27. Pot: OliCamp Space Saver Mug

This is a very light, cheap pot/mug, but it doesn't come with a lid.

I actually bought a slightly lighter, much more expensive titanium pot with a lid that's also wider and thus should hypothetically heat water faster. But still haven't used it. I can't get over the $65 price tag. Granted, I used my Moosejaw reward bucks or whatever they call them to buy it, but it just seems so ridiculous that I might return it.

28. Stove: Snow Peak GigaPower canister stove

This is a good little stove. Very reliable (except for the piezo igniter; piezo igniters always fail, just get the version without it) and stable with the four pot supports. If I could go back I might get a Soto Windmaster, but we're talking very small differences here.

29. Ball: racquetball for rolling out muscles

I get tight hip muscles so this is useful.

30. Headlamp: Princeton Tec Fred

Great headlamp. I like that it starts with red light (which preserves your night vision) when you turn it on. Very bright bright setting and good battery life.

31. Head net: possibly Coghlan's?

Indispensable item in high-mosquito areas. You will go insane without one. You will also go insane with one, from the constant whining around your ears, but at least you won't be getting bitten (much. They still bite you through the net sometimes.).

32. Gloves: possibly Fox River? fingerless wool gloves

I don't think this is a popular choice but I like fingerless gloves. I would probably prefer waterproof synthetic ones if I could find them, but the wool works okay. I have nerve damage that affects my hands and I don't like having to remove gloves for high-dexterity tasks, so I prefer the fingerless.

33. Warm hat: Repreve synthetic cap (no longer made)

Very warm hat. I sometimes unfold it down over my eyes for sleeping.

34. Bug spray: Sawyer 20% picaridin insect repellent, 3oz. size, in quart ziploc in case of leakage

Picaridin has many advantages over Deet. It's just as effective but safer, odorless, non-greasy, and actively repels bugs (as opposed to just confusing their senses). It also doesn't melt nylon and acrylic. I leave this home I'm going someplace that shouldn't have many bugs.

They make an even smaller size of this repellent, but in some areas I find myself using a whole heck of a lot.

35. Hammock: netting hammock from Walmart (no longer sold)

This hammock rocks. It's very light. I wish they still sold them. This is definitely a luxury item and not at all necessary, but I try to have a little time on most trips where I can just relax, even if it's only 20 minutes on one day and then it starts hailing.

36. Spoon: Toaks titanium long handled spoon

Great spoon for getting into deep bags of food. I hate sporks. Don't get a spork.

37. Trowel: sand stake from REI

This is very light and maybe not the greatest trowel. I try to find soft places to dig, such as at the base of pine trees, which helps. I suppose I could also use it as an actual sand stake if I needed to. I have never needed to.

38. Quart ziploc: holds hygiene items

The items in here (with my sunscreen and lip balm added) will all go in the food bag at night to be secured from bears, who are intrigued by all unfamiliar scents.

39. Anti-chafing: BodyGlide pocket size

I don't usually have to deal with chafing, thankfully, but when I do some kind of aid is essential. BodyGlide seems to work pretty well. In a pinch it can also be put on hot spots on your feet to help prevent blisters from forming.

40. Cleaning: Wet Ones sensitive skin fragrance & alcohol free wipes, placed in ziploc

These are great. I wash important areas (face, hands, armpits, groin) and where the pack rests (shoulders, hips/butt) with one every night, and my face with another in the morning. They make you feel much better and have cut down a great deal on my pack-related skin breakouts. To save weight, I bring just enough for the trip. If you want the extra special treatment you can place them over your pot when boiling water for meals, to warm them before use.

41. Floss: one strand of floss

All that's needed for a few nights.

42. Toothbrush: no, I do not cut the handle off

It's something of a joke that backpackers will cut the handle off their toothbrush to save some fraction of an ounce of weight. I've tried cutting the handle off my toothbrush to make it easier to store, but found it really annoying to hold, so I went back to a complete toothbrush.

I don't bring toothpaste on short trips. Toothpaste provides some benefit, but most of the benefit we get from brushing comes from the brushing itself.

43. Sunglasses: sunglass film roll that you get when they dilate you at the eye doctor

Very small and light, and basically free. I wear glasses and stick these behind them, and it works well for me. But I don't use them that much. Most of the time I'm backpacking, I'm in the shade of the forest.

44. Trash bag: sandwich size ziploc for putting snack wrappers and litter into while I hike

This is essential for me because I'm very lazy and if my only option were having to stop and open my pack to get the "real" trash bag out of the food bag, I probably would never pick up litter, and would stuff snack wrappers into my hip belt pockets and get my pack all food-scented. So I keep this bag in my hip belt pocket and add small trash items to it throughout the day, emptying it at night into the larger one.

45. Sunscreen: travel size tube

As mentioned above, usually I am in the shade for most of a trip, so not much sunscreen is needed.

46. Lip balm: with sunscreen

This is necessary as my lower lip seems to burn easily.

47. Sanitizer: travel size sanitizer bottle

Necessary to avoid getting sick/making others sick. Soap and water is also an option; take a mouthful of water, put some soap on hands, then dribble water onto your hands while scrubbing. Do this away from water sources.

48. Rain pants: Marmot Precip pants

These are fine. They're a little baggy on me; the women's version has big hips, and I do not.

49. Rain jacket: Patagonia M10 (no longer made)

I love this jacket, mainly because it fits great. Very light and, so far, very waterproof.

50. Map of area: I prefer National Geographic Trails Illustrated maps

Nothing replaces a paper map. The ability to see a large area at once cannot be duplicated by a GPS or smartphone. I like these maps in particular because the color scheme makes it easy to pick out what I'm looking for.

51. Phone: Sony Xperia XZ1 Compact phone

I just got this phone and chose it in part for backpacking. It's small, waterproof, and has a long battery life (mine goes 4 days on a charge).

52. Camera: Sony RX100 miii

I also just got this camera, as a replacement for my old Canon s95. The Sony is supposedly the best pocket camera you can get and is used by many backpackers. I very much appreciate the viewfinder, which my previous camera didn't have -- it makes it so much easier to compose shots in the bright outdoors.

53. Battery: extra camera battery

Would hate to miss a good shot.

54. Toilet paper: just enough for the trip, in a ziploc

Note: best practice for backpacking is now to pack out your toilet paper, not bury it.

WORN

55. Sun hat: Prana cap

I prefer using a partial-mesh ballcap to a wide-brimmed hat because I can put a hood or knit cap over it for more insulation, and can still put a draping bandana under if it I need more sun protection.

56. Watch: Armitron digital watch with alarm from Walmart

I use this watch when backpacking instead of my everyday (cloth band, analog) watch because it gets less gross when covered in sunscreen, sweat and bugspray. The alarm is also useful.

57. Socks: Darn Tough merino/synthetic blend socks

Other pair of Darn Tough socks

58. Boots: Altra Lone Peak 4 Mid RSM (Men's)

I like these boots but boy are they hot. This is the "waterproof" version (it's not particularly waterproof); I tried the mesh version too but it wasn't much cooler and didn't seem to dry out any faster. I'd prefer to use trail runners, but due to foot problems, I wear extra insoles, which effectively increases the stack height of shoes, making them unstable. The ankle cuff on these boots solves that problem. However, they are like little sweat boxes and I'm afraid I'll eventually have blister problems because of it.

In case you're wondering, I have the men's version because the extra insoles decrease the room available for my foot, requiring a bigger shoe. And they don't make a women's one that big.

59. Shorts: track shorts from thrift store

I love hiking in track shorts. There is nothing so comfortable and well-ventilated.

60. Mid layer: REI Sahara shirt. I wear this OR #11 dependent on temps. This one is for warmer weather.

I like this shirt, the buttons allow it to be worn in more ways than a pullover and it's a little bit cooler in the heat. Typically I'll wear this in the summer and the other shirt in the winter and shoulder seasons.

Not shown, because why would I show you my underwear:

61. Underwear: cotton briefs

There are many quick-drying synthetic underwear options out there now, but I haven't found them to be as comfortable -- and when you're walking a lot of miles in a day, you really don't want to be uncomfortable down there.

62. Bra: regular bra

I don't like sports bras.

That's it for clothes. The idea with backpacking clothing is that everything you bring should be able to be worn at the same time, in layers. There shouldn't be duplicates. The exception to this rule is if having a duplicate brings you exceptional joy -- for instance, if it really improves your mood to be able to change into a non-smelly shirt halfway through.

FIRST AID KIT

63. Antibacterial: small antibacterial packets

You can buy packages of these small single-serve antibacterial gels on eBay or wherever.

64. Blister patches: ENGO blister patches

These are a unique form of blister control in that they attach to your shoe, not your foot. They have an adhesive on one side and are slippery on the other, allowing your sock to move against your shoe without resistance. They're larger than this; this is what's left after I most recently cut some off for use.

When cutting pieces of something you're going to stick to something else, round the corners off or they will tend to get pulled up.

65. Bandaids: large bandaids

I mostly use bandaids for a quick fix on areas where my foot is getting rubbed, but obviously they're also good for cuts.

66. Tape: Leukotape strips

This is an item I would definitely not want to be without. It is the only thing I have found that will stick to my feet long-term. Leukotape is a fabric tape with a slight give to it, making it easier to wrap around curved areas. It will stay on my feet for a couple days of hiking before needing to be replaced. When I know that a particular shoe causes problems for a particular part of my foot, I will wrap that area before even starting the hike, to prevent blisters.

Leukotape comes in a long roll where the tape is stuck to itself, no backing. You can cut off shorter pieces for a trip and stick them to a backing that came with some other kind of adhesive item (such as nametags or mailing labels).

67. Bandage: self-sticking stretchy bandage roll

For holding gauze on in the case of a major cut

68. Gloves: nitrile gloves

In case I need to help someone else who has been injured

69. Sewing kit

I definitely recommend having a sewing kit for clothing and gear repairs on the trail.

70. Bandaids: medium bandaids

It's helpful to have different sizes.

71. Blister pads: 2nd Skin blister pads

I have yet to try these so I'm not sure how well they work. Supposedly good for if a blister has already developed. I would also like to pick up some 2nd Skin burn pads. I once read that burns are the #1 backpacking injury. I'm not sure I believe this and am curious to know what their criteria for "injury" was (though I have certainly given myself a few small burns by trying to handle my stove before it had completely cooled off), but in any case it seems like a good idea to have something on hand.

72. Foam: callus cushions

To provide a buffer around small injuries, blisters, or spots that are rubbing

73. Antiseptic: iodine prep pads

Supposedly better for your wound than alcohol pads

74. Gaze: gauze pads

In case of large cuts. I think I've only had to use my gauze once ever and it was on a day hike.

You'll notice a theme with these items. 95% of the time I dig into my first aid kit, I'm reaching for something to keep an incipient blister from forming.

My kit is missing a couple items present in most first aid kits. One is moleskin, because I haven't found any that will stay stuck to me. The other is medicines, which I keep in my sundries bag instead.

SUNDRIES BAG

75. Paper: scrap paper for writing

In case I want to write a few thoughts or leave a note.

76. Pen: it's a pen!

A space pen might be more appropriate, but this one is easier to hold when my hands are cold.

77. Reading material: article ripped out of a magazine

This is what I typically bring for reading material. Usually the time between stopping for the night and going to bed is filled with chores, and once I start reading in bed I immediately start to fall asleep, so it would be pointless to bring more than that.

78. Bags: more ziplocs, because bags are oh so handy

These can be used as extra trash containers or to keep a camera dry, or hold on to neat fossils, rocks or other items you find on the trail, or parts that fall off of your equipment (!).

79. Bags: bread bags.

Can go over dry socks and back into boots to keep dry socks dry, or over hands to keep gloves dry. Wash them first (but only after eating the bread).

80. Patches: patches for sleeping pad repair

These are patches specifically for the NeoAir XLite sleeping pad. Not sure if they will be any better than regular gear repair tape. So far I've never had to repair a pad in the field.

81. Lighter: Bic lighter

For lighting my stove. I chose orange to make it harder to lose.

82. Knife: Victorinox Swiss Army Nail Clip knife with nail clipper, scissors, tweezers, toothpick, nail file/cleaner, and small blade

I love this knife. You don't need a large blade for backpacking; it's unnecessary weight, as 99% of what you will be using the knife for is just cutting cheese and summer sausage (and you can use your teeth if it comes down to it!). I can't even remember the last time I used the blade on my knife. Scissors are more useful, specifically for cutting tape, pads, patches and thread. The nail clippers and file are also very handy for trimming problem toenails that may cause you pain. Tweezers are another item I wouldn't want to be without.

83. Tape: medical tape

Nice for holding bandaids more securely onto fingers, and other odd tasks

84. Medicine: small container for earplugs which carries not earplugs but my medication and NSAIDs

I will bring just enough of my personal medications and NSAIDs (I prefer naproxen to ibuprofen) for the length of the trip. May also include Benadryl for sleep aid/allergic reactions.

85. Candle: birthday candle for help getting a fire started in emergency

Just some extra assistance in case I need to start an emergency fire. I almost never make fires for fun while backpacking, both due to time/sleepiness issues, wet wood issues, and because I am often in sensitive areas that won't support a lot of wood gathering.

86. Hair tie: it's a hair tie. Useful for hair, or attaching things to things

There is nothing worse than having long hair and losing your hair tie. But hair ties are essentially a beefy rubber band, useful for other tasks such as attaching things to the pack, or allowing me to clip something via mini carabiner to a small tree limb.

87. Filter: coffee filters for use as pre-filter if water has high sediment content

I have yet to use these but the idea is that I would hold them at the opening to my hydration bladder when pouring in water via the filler ziploc, in cases where the water was either cloudy or had a lot of junk floating in it. So far I haven't come across this issue.

88. Paper clip: for who knows what

A useful just-in-case item that essentially weighs nothing.

89. Safety pins: you never know

Same

90. Game: 1.5" playing cards

I might bring these if I'm backpacking with another person. While they are tiny, I haven't found them difficult to play with at all.

91. Earplugs: Mack's slim fit soft foam earplugs

I use earplugs because there are a lot of noises in the forest, and each one sets off my alert system since I am already nervous about bears, and I tend to wake up. Earplugs allow a good night's sleep. Will I miss it if a bear actually does enter camp? Possibly. I did sleep through a mouse chewing into my tent and through my hydration bladder last summer. (Both of these things are very rare and may never happen to you!)

92. Back-up light: small LED light

This is a very tiny, near-weightless handheld light with a single LED. I bring this instead of extra headlamp batteries because there's always the chance of the headlamp itself breaking. It's bright enough to read and do chores by, and -- importantly -- allows you to set it in the "on" position without having to squeeze the button the entire time like most tiny LED lights.

93. Medicine: antacid and anti-diarrheal medications, with dosing instructions

I have definitely used the anti-diarrheal medicine and was very grateful for it. Make sure to have dosing instructions for medications you don't use frequently.

94. Pads: two panty liners, held with rubber band

These are multi-purpose items. They keep my mirror from being scratched, they're good if my period comes off-schedule, and they can be used for padding or liquid absorption if needed. I have a male friend who always puts a full-sized pad at the bottom of his trash bag to absorb liquid from food waste. Obviously the rubber band is a multi-use item as well.

95. Mirror: S.O.L. rescue flash mirror, small

For emergencies but also to allow me to examine facial injuries, see if something's in my eye, etc. See if my make-up is smudged (this is a joke).

96. Tape: Gear Aid Tenacious Tape gear repair tape

I use this instead of duct tape for gear repairs as it looks nicer, is easier to cut to shape, and can be cleaned off more easily if you want to remove it and do a "real" repair later. From my experience it works very well.

97. Compass: Brunton TruArc 3

This is just a light, reasonably priced compass that will work for navigation with a map. If you don't know how to use a compass with a map, you may as well get a mini compass instead just to see where north is.

The number of times I've used the extra features on such a compass (declination setting, ability to align with map) while hiking are backpacking has been very small. Three or four times perhaps? Normally you just want to see which way is generally north so you can tell if this segment that goes east-west on the map is the part of the trail you think you're on, that sort of thing. However, being able to properly use a map and compass is fun, and will allow you to identify distant peaks or find your way with certainty without having to rely on your (potentially dead or dying) phone.

98. Matches: UCO Gear compact safety matches

Back-up fire source.

99. Keys: house and car keys only

For weight savings, I remove the rest of the keys from my ring when I go.

100. Driver's license and credit card

Just in case. An emergency scenario in which I need to exit at a different trailhead and call for a shuttle (or grab a beer?) is not that implausible.

101. Umbrella: Six Moon Designs Silver Shadow

I only bring this for hot, low-tree-cover trips, attaching it via bungee to the strap of my pack. I don't really like it. It's very annoying when you have to go past trees, and when you've got it attached to the pack it's never going to be in the exact right position to block the majority of your body. When you hold it, your arms get tired. But it does cool you off 10-15 degrees and is obviously useful for blocking rain as well, or wind if you want to sit down for a break.

I actually use this umbrella more for summer walks at home than I do for hiking or backpacking. However, many people absolutely love their hiking umbrellas, and even use one and a wind jacket/pants in place of rain gear.

So, there you are. Apparently I bring around 100 items with me, depending how you count.

Friday, March 13, 2020

Lost Trip to Unnamed Wilderness, Unspecified Day

I never did put up photos from one of the trips I took this summer. This was a trip in late August with a friend; I won't name the location, because it's a lovely spot that still gets relatively few visitors and perhaps it can remain that way for a while longer.

Abundant fresh raspberries on the way in


Blueberries


There were moose at the lake where we stopped for the night.

Moose-watching from hammock

J trying to get some relaxation time in. It was a chilly, blustery trip overall, more fall-like than summer-like.


It can be hard to get out of one's tent in the morning, especially pre-sunrise







There had been so much snow the previous winter, some areas were still getting out from under it. These particular flowers usually appear in June or early July just as the snow retreats. Here, they were appearing in late August.




I promise I did not arrange these bugs. I found them this way.






My hips look really narrow in this photo, but it's just the green stripes on the sides of my shorts blending in with the grass.

J and I. We had two different people ask us if we were sisters.

J is way ahead of me because I keep stopping to take photos.




Porcupine sighting! Only my second in the wild, and first in Colorado.

We had brought our suits in the hope of taking a dip, but it was way too cold. Thankfully there were still plenty of raspberries to pick on the way out.

I have more travel plans coming up, but it remains to be seen whether they will happen with the coronavirus issues. See you next time, whenever that is!

Sunday, October 06, 2019

No Lack of Comfort, Part 2

This post is a continuation. Read Part 1 here.

Finally finished with my backpacking trip in the Flat Tops, I reached my car around four PM. Usually I hate for a trip to be over -- sometimes I even tear up on the final leg, I'm so sad to leave the wilderness -- but today, I was over it. I wanted out of the searing sun and away from these mosquitoes, who'd gifted me with more than a hundred bites over the prior five days.

Before I got in the car, I bent and picked up a rock. It was a piece of ruddy brown volcanic scoria shaped like a heart. Not the stylized heart of emoticons and valentine candies, but the living, beating thing, stripped of art and arteries. I put it in the center console of my car.

The drive to Glenwood Springs lifted my spirits a little. I'd recently gotten all my music back; a year earlier, my hard drive had crashed, and I'd lost many of my files, including all my music. And then the iPod that had that music on it also died. I'd sent my hard drive to a data recovery company for an estimate, but when they quoted me $2,500, I gave up on the idea. Eventually I found a company in California that promised full recovery for $300, so I nervously put the drive in the mail.

It worked. I got everything back. Music, photos, GS logs, all kinds of nonsense I hadn't looked at in a decade. Then I got a new music player. Then I bought Shania Twain's greatest hits album. So there I was, rolling at forty miles per hour through country I'd never seen -- vibrant green hills with snow-streaked mountains in the distance, then pinyon/juniper woodlands dry as a bone -- to the sound of 90s girl-power anthems and steel guitar. And I was singing along.

I had booked a tiny home airbnb in Glenwood. Normally I don't bother to book lodging on trips because I'm so content with camping. But considering this was my big trip of the year, and that the whole ten-day shebang would still probably cost only $400 total even with an airbnb, I splurged. It was extremely cute.




I was not. I was dirty, sunburnt, sweaty, and covered in bites, scratches and scrapes -- like the one now healing on my chin, from when I'd done a face plant on my second day.


By the time I had checked myself in, showed and organized some belongings, I was exhausted. I had planned on treating myself to a burger, but suddenly I didn't want to deal with the crowds or wait times at a restaurant. So, predictably, I went to taco bell, got four tacos and ate them in about thirty seconds. Then I slept. For twelve hours.

I did treat myself in the morning.

This meal was not supposed to include bacon, but in fact, to my delight, a tiny piece snuck in. Can you find it among the potatoes?

My place was situated a few blocks from the center of town, and it was nice having the ability to explore on foot.


However, the temperature remained in the nineties, and I was exhausted still. My body felt like lead and my heart remained heavy. I glanced blearily around the shops and galleries I entered, unable to muster any interest or enjoyment in what I was looking at. It felt like I'd feel this way forever, in some post-exertion, post-breakup limbo where recovery and joy were suspended indefinitely.

Late in the afternoon I entered a gallery and was looking dumbly at the paintings when the woman behind the desk called out to me.

"Is that Angel's Landing? On your shirt?"

I went over to her. I was, in fact, wearing a shirt with a stylized representation of the iconic hike in Zion National Park that features nine-hundred-foot-plus sheer dropoffs on either side of the trail. I've been lucky enough to hike it twice; it's one of my favorites. She told me she'd tried to get to the top three times, but had turned back each time due to fear of heights. We talked for a while. She'd had many adventures in her life, but was limited now due to health conditions and the repercussions of her treatment for cancer.

Before departing, I asked her, "You tried to hike it three times, you said? You're brave."

"I don't give up," she said. "If I did, I wouldn't be here today."

I left and returned to wandering the streets, feeling like the muck at the bottom of my sluggish brain had been stirred up with a stick. I was a little more alive.


I returned to the airbnb to do chores: I unpacked and reorganized, took the multiple insoles out of my boots and laid them out to dry completely, readied my food for the next part of the trip, aired out my sleeping bag, rinsed the tent and hung it up, washed off the ground cloth in the shower, and scrubbed my clothes in the kitchen sink until the water turned opaque with volcanic dust and dirt.

I tried get on my work phone to do some more research about the next part of the trip, but I couldn't connect to the internet. So I walked to the library, where there turned out to be a free concert in progress. It was the crunchiest hippie band imaginable, playing songs about the moon and rivers, plus a cover of the Beatles' Across the Universe, inviting us to sing along. I did. It's been a long time since I heard that song.

When I was a child in Connecticut, my parents had LPs of the Beatles' albums, which I would listen to when I was bored with my Disney ones. And now here I was, across the country if not the universe, singing it again. The live music and the singing lifted me, letting me recall the feeling of being awake and connected with what was in front of me, as the woman in the gallery had. And then the music ended.

That evening, I took myself to Iron Mountain Hot Springs, which is perched on a hillside with many small pools. I brought a book, hoping to read and relax. Even though it was well after dinnertime, and raining, the place was distressingly crowded. Teens, couples, groups of friends were squeezing into pools and drinking beers, shrieking with laughter.

I didn't take a picture at Iron Mountain, so here's this.

I got to talking with a couple who were in one of the pools with me. They were celebrating their thirteenth wedding anniversary and had just returned from a ten day river trip in Utah. More talk revealed that they made their livelihood caretaking others' properties in Costa Rica, returning to the States each summer to visit family and have fun. They had made their life into what they wanted.

I liked them, especially the man. He talked to me like I was a person. It's hard to put into words, but even when not doing what women call "mansplaining," male persons typically truncate certain subjects (such as technical ones), or make assumptions about what a female audience wants to discuss. This isn't a bad thing every time, and women probably do the same. But this guy spoke openly and sincerely with me, and we talked about many things.

It turned out that he knew the owner of the hot springs, sort of; he'd "met" him playing Clash of Clans. We spoke about the strange bonds of friendship formed with strangers on the internet over computer games. I never opened my book. He and his wife were lovely, and as darkness fell and the hot springs prepared to close for the night, I wandered to the showers feeling that I myself had been opened, and was finally able to feel and notice the rain, the night sky, the softness of my bed.

I slept and slept. In the morning, I walked over the bridge to look down on the other hot springs in town, which includes what is supposedly the world's largest hot springs pool. I had no interest in this. It was nuts.

This pool is ridiculous nonsense.

They also had some kind of hot river with rapids, which was also nuts.

It was ninety degrees out! Who wants to get splashed by hot water?

It was time to journey onward to the next part of my trip. After stopping at a grocery store to buy some perishables, I drove south. In Glenwood Springs, everything was Mount Sopris -- Mount Sopris t-shirts, Mount Sopris mugs, Mount Sopris's profile in every other company's logo. Driving toward Carbondale, I understood why. The mountain absolutely dominates the skyline for miles and miles, looking like a hulking volcano perched on the edge of the world. (It is not a volcano.)


Kebler Pass separates the Roaring Fork Valley from Crested Butte. As the road turned to dirt, the CVT in my Prius started to whine with effort. All traces of civilization beside the road itself receded, and soon I was looking at nothing but weather-stunted aspen with head-high flowers below and bare peaks above, and it was gorgeous. I passed bare dirt pullouts, one after the other -- the whole area had enough campsites to take care of half of Denver's camping populace on a given weekend, but they were all empty.

Despite the beauty, I passed on. I was hoping to get a site at Lake Irwin Campground, closer to Crested Butte. The campground has thirty-two sites, all but six of which are reservable; all the reservable ones were taken when I looked online before my trip, so I was hoping one of the six walk-up sites would be free.

I arrived in early afternoon to see a "CAMPGROUND FULL" sign at the entrance.

In my time as a camper I've done a lot of things to ensure I got a site somewhere, and ignoring signs is easily the least of these. I drove up into the campground, squinting at every post to see if it was one of the walk-up sites (whose numbers I had written down at the library the day before), or whether someone had failed to show up for their reservation. When I was almost at the end of the loop, I came to a post that had no tag on it. I looked at my list. It was one of the walk-up sites.

I pulled in and examined the site. There was no midday shade. There was no good place to put a tent; the gravel only extended a few feet beyond the firepit and picnic table, and the seats of the rotting fiberglass picnic table were only inches off the ground, the legs having been buried in the aforementioned gravel by some overly enthusiastic Forest Service employee. There was no good place to put up a hammock. There was no view of the lake, or anything else really, unless you counted the wood-framed latrine across the road. If I took it, it would be the worst campsite I'd ever paid money for. I'd driven past dozens of much nicer free campsites on my way in.

But I wanted to be here. Despite how much I love the wilderness, there's something special about a developed campground. This is where American families come to be in the outdoors. And whatever you may say about the United States's questionable values, our penchant for cooking s'mores on a juniper fire under a sprawling night sky isn't one of them. It may, in fact, be the best thing about my country.

I travel alone a lot and on a budget, and I've developed some odd habits: eating hot meals out of cans and ziploc bags, "showering" with wet wipes, wearing wool fingerless gloves 24/7 to keep both the sun and the cold off my hands. So often, I am the eccentric lady camping in the middle of the forest by herself, singing Simon and Garfunkel into a firepit that has no fire in it. To occasionally let myself be surrounded by vacationing families with their hot dogs and kids' bikes and drying swimsuits and citronella and Uno and s'mores is to let my time here be touched by both normalcy and joy.

I love to be around people on vacation, especially in our national parks and forests. I love to see people's wonder as they remind themselves what's good about the outdoors. And perhaps this is why I retain a sense of optimism, despite what's in the news... because, over and over again, this is the America I see: regular people who are happy and friendly and open and doing their best to leave no trace.

Lake Irwin

And, honestly, sometimes it's nice to have a picnic table, even if the seats are only three inches off the ground.

I couldn't find the station where you deposit money and take a tag, so I went to the camp host site. The camp hosts turned out to be the most lovely people imaginable, an older couple named Mickey and Norma who spoke to each other like honeymooners and were extremely solicitous of their chubby dog. Mickey had me get into his golf cart and drove me back to the site, where we filled out a ream of paperwork and made fun of the Forest Service. When he left, I was smiling.


The campsite in question

I looked around at my neighbors, who were making fires and preparing to cook red meat of various kinds. I'd planned to go for a hike or explore town, but suddenly, I wanted a fire and red meat as well. I went back to the camp host site to purchase some firewood from Mickey, then drove into Crested Butte and found a package of steak that was small enough that I might plausibly be able to eat it all by myself, as well as a green pepper.

I had a devil of a time getting a fire started; the wood, though packaged in plastic, was wet and stubborn. Though I inhaled enough smoke to qualify for a trip to urgent care, by dark I had enough coals to actually cook. I covered the steak in olive oil and a spice mix that had been languishing in my camping kit for a couple years, and put it on the grill.


It was amazing, absolutely amazing. Completely worth an hour and a half of trying to keep a fire lit while coughing like a two-pack-a-day smoker. I went to sleep with the nearly-full moon shining in through the mesh of the tent, feeling almost human.

I slept in a little bit the next morning, had my instant oatmeal (pour hot water in packet, eat out of packet) and went for a hike.

On the drive in

I didn't quite make it to the trailhead because the road had been blocked by an avalanche. Everyone was parking at a steep pulloff a half-mile down from the massive pile of snow. Envisioning how my car would roll across the road and then down into a hundred-foot ravine if the parking brake gave out, I put rocks behind both my rear tires before I set out.

Emerald Lake

The hike was pretty okay.







Actually, it was like something out of a dream, or like the scene in Wizard of Oz where they're in the field of poppies. It didn't seem real all. I'd managed to hit the area at "peak wildflower", despite it being three weeks later than the usual peak. I had the late snows to thank. As I approached the West Maroon trail, the final leg of my loop, I realized I'd have to cross a wide stream to continue.

I'd had to cross a lot of streams in the Flat Tops, each time taking several minutes to unlace my boots, get my flip flops out, secure the boots, wade across, dry my feet and the flip flops, put the boots back on and the flip flops away. I was sick of it. It was easy to understand now why some backpackers wear mesh trail runners and just continue straight across any stream they come to. But I had boots with a waterproof membrane, which keeps water in about as well as it keeps it out, and I didn't want my shoes to turn into the sweaty steam room they'd been in the Flat Tops, so I submitted to the routine once more -- except this, time, stubbornly, I crossed in my bare feet.

Have you ever crossed a river in your bare feet? I have, and yet somehow I always forget the experience and end up doing it again. Ow.

Off-balance, and wincing, I paused at the far bank and looked down. The stones in the river were all colors: red, white, green, yellow. I picked a couple up and stashed them in my pack. I had often picked up rocks or feathers for K. on my solo hikes, to show her I'd been thinking of her. And these rocks were for her as well. In some future world or some parallel universe in which all the differences between K. and I were magically resolved and we got back together, I would give her these rocks, and the heart-shaped rock from Flat Tops. See, I would say. I was thinking of you the whole time. Because I was.

Beyond the junction, a group of backpackers was climbing. Up ahead the West Maroon Trail would meet up with the Four Pass Loop, the strenuous -- and gorgeous -- backpacking trip that K. and I had done a couple years before. And rather than turning left for the parking lot, I turned right, toward the past. It was so beautiful here. I slowly made my way up the slope to the ground that we'd covered on one of the best trips we'd taken together.


Looking back

Monument plants -- the ones that bloom only once in their lifetime of twenty to eighty years -- covered the hillside with their flowery stalks.


I climbed upward until I reached the next junction and was standing on the Four Pass Loop. I remembered the word game K. and I had been playing as we'd hiked along this stretch toward West Maroon Pass. It had felt interminable at the time, hiking on and on under the hot sun.

It was sad to remember the six days we'd spent backpacking here, but the pain was beginning to feel distant. It was, after all, another year, another day, and everything was different. I was just as tired now, but it was cooler, there was more snow on the peaks, and the flowers were more abundant. I looked ahead to West Maroon Pass, with its spires of sandstone. The view from the pass was awesome, but I had already been there. I turned my tired feet back toward the trailhead.

Looking toward West Maroon Pass



I reached a dirt road. I'd need to hike along this road to get back to the avalanche, and then my car. I walked up, and up, and up. It was hot.

At Schofield Pass. Why??

I was following a family. As we continued upward through the blazing sun, hunched under day packs, sweat soaking our shirts, no one spoke. The road was interminable. I began to wonder if I'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. But finally, we reached the avalanche.


I'd meant to finally enjoy some time in the hammock when I got back to the campsite, but when I got there the light had already gone and it was chilly, so I went exploring instead. Following a faint trail away from the lake, I found a lovely waterfall.


That night I enjoyed one of my usual camping pastimes, which is walking around the campground loop after dark looking at everyone's fires and imagining how much fun they're having. Is this also strange? I don't know. It's exercise, it allows me to avoid the hassle of building a campfire myself, and it lets me enjoy everyone's interesting little campers and tents, lit like tiny cabins or green and yellow flying saucers in the darkness.

Lake Irwin campground was disappointing, however. Everyone seemed to have gone to sleep at nine. So I crawled into my tent and looked at the moon instead.

I was determined to hike Scarp Ridge the next morning, to get a view of the whole of the Elk Range. However, when the time came, I couldn't find the trailhead. I stopped to ask a couple who were dispersed camping on one of the dirt roads above the lake; they pointed me in the right direction. They were headed to the trailhead soon themselves, on mountain bikes.

Lake Irwin from above

At the trailhead, I once again put rocks behind my back tires, noting just how far the car would travel down the mountain if the emergency brake happened to fail.

The hike was a steep one to begin with, and I was still exhausted from my trip in the Flat Tops. My body simply hadn't caught up on rest. I crawled snail-like up the slope until I got to the ridge, then up the ridge, where the view became more and more expansive the further I got. Finally, almost at the trail's finale, a small peak under 13,000', I saw the couple I'd asked for directions running toward me.

I stopped and yelled to them. "Are you running from a bear, or are you running because you like running?"

They laughed, not stopping. "No bears!"

The had biked up to the trailhead, run up the slope and the ridge, and now were about to run back down. Clearly, I was out of my league.

The view from the top of the nameless peak was magnificent. I could see north across most of the Elks, which are perhaps the most beautiful range in Colorado. Their sandstone slopes are multicolored, with red, silver and even yellow standstone complementing the blue-green of lakes, forest green of trees and emerald of lush midsummer grass. I could see most of the range's 14,000' peaks from where I stood.




Here's a little video to better illustrate the scope of the landscape:




Once again, however, my time up high was limited by stormclouds moving in. I could see lightning in the distance to the south. Reluctantly I descended, determined to finally get some hammock time in.


This cairn was so excellent I had to take a picture of it.

When I got back to the parking area, I saw that all the cars around me had also put rocks under their back tires. This made me feel validated and like I was a genius.


(I am not a genius, but I am lucky; a couple weeks later I was picking up a friend for another backpacking trip. I parked my car on her steep street, engaged the parking brake, then felt the car start to roll forward. My emergency brake, was, in fact, failing.)

At last I made it to the hammock, with a cider and a package of "'no cheese' cheesiness" paleo puffs, which are the closest thing to cheese a lactose intolerant human being can get. And my book. I was reading Cheryl Strayed's Tiny Beautiful Things, which is probably the closest thing to grace a collection of advice columns can get. The book is so full of poignancy and compassion it's like someone opened a can of soul and dumped it on a skillet full of heartache. In it she counsels various people undergoing difficult things -- often grief and loss -- including those debating whether to leave partners who, except for this or that matter of importance, are perfect for them. And she references her decision to leave her own first husband, whom she loved, and how -- from her perspective years down the road -- it was absolutely the right choice.

My preferred reading location

I don't know if I've made a right choice in my life, let alone this summer, but I cannot think of a better book for me to have read at that time. The fact that someone out there had also left someone they loved, and written so openly and so eloquently about it, and was okay...! It was all I needed to stop the screaming guilt, self-hatred and uncertainty that had ruled my head since that night. She writes:

You are not a terrible person for wanting to break up with someone you love. You don’t need a reason to leave. Wanting to leave is enough. Leaving doesn’t mean you’re incapable of real love or that you’ll never love anyone else again. It doesn’t mean you’re morally bankrupt or psychologically demented or a nymphomaniac. It means you wish to change the terms of one particular relationship. That’s all. Be brave enough to break your own heart.

I cried. I cried buckets.


It was the last night of my trip. The next night, I'd be at home; the day after that, I'd be at work. I took another walk down to the lake and explored some more, finding fields of flowers, a damselfly, and an even larger waterfall.




Back at the lake, I saw a woman trying to drag a kayak up from the water by herself. I asked her if she needed help. "Oh, no," she said, "I'm just going to wait for my husband." We talked. She and her husband were from a small bayou town in Louisiana, but they'd come to Colorado every summer for decades. They were very friendly and cheerful and we talked about both Colorado and Louisiana for quite a while before they finally loaded the kayak on the car and drove away.


There was a beautiful sunset that night. It was cold. I heated up soup for myself and read my book in the dark. When I took my walk around the campground loop, nearly everyone was in bed.



I'd thought about going for another hike in the morning, but when I woke it was raining, so I slept in. When I woke again, it was still raining. I packed up. There was a lone couple on paddleboards on the lake in the rain, determined to have fun.


I drove into Crested Butte to finally explore the town. It was farmer's market day.


This must be the place.


I walked around in the rain, getting colder and colder. I was trying to find a place to have brunch, but everywhere had a line out the door. Finally I just picked the Paradise Cafe and squeezed my way in, telling the hostess that yes, I was okay with a seat at the bar. And then they called my name. I got to bypass everyone else in line and go take a seat in the warm restaurant. I had perfect eggs, perfect bacon, perfect french toast. I made happy conversation with the woman sitting next to me; it was her birthday. And I finished my book, trying hard not to cry in front of the bartender.

When I exited it was still stormy, but by the time I'd walked back to my car, the sun was beginning to peek out. I debated going for that hike but decided against it. My mind was already on the road home.


I did make one last stop on the way back -- at Cottonwood Hot Springs, which I'd visited in the dark after my big backpacking trip a few years ago. This time I got to see it in daylight. It was rustic and hippie-ish and half in disrepair, which was fine with me. I spent a couple hours just sitting in the hot water and thinking about nothing, my mind firmly determined to enjoy what might be its last vacation for six months. And then I toweled off and drove home.

That was it. Ten days, spent largely in wilderness. And it was the wilderness I'd looked forward to; but it was people, in the end, who lifted me up. The woman at the gallery who'd had cancer. The musicians at the library. The couple at the hot springs who'd spoken to me like a person. The camp host and his wife. The advice columnist and her book. The couple from Louisiana. The woman on her birthday. Each of them brought me out of myself, made me smile again, made me feel human again.

I had entered the Flat Tops ten days before with a feeling that beauty was scarce, and was greeted with abundance; I had left my relationship feeling that connection was scarce, and was shown repeatedly that it is not. There is no lack of comfort to be had in the world, if you put yourself in its way.

I have wandered through several wildernesses since my vacation, both the natural kind and the kind we weave for ourselves when we're not watching our steps. And despite how much beauty and solace nature has given me, the saving thing remains people: it is people who revive me, people who restore me, and people who redeem me, just by being who they are. And I cannot thank you all enough.