Why go the hard way?
Why get dirty when you can stay clean?
Why carry a heavy pack, sleep on the ground, deal with mosquitos, cross freezing-cold streams,
and eat the same thing day-in, day-out?
Why go backpacking?
We went out on our annual 7-day trip in early July this year, and kept coming back to this
question, "WHY BACKPACKING?"
Here's why we do it.
WE DO IT FOR THE BEAUTY
On this trip, we walked through burned forests, camped beside mountain streams and frozen
lakes, breathed clean mountain air, and watched our world get dark every night and then slowly
lighten up every morning.
We could see the beauty ... hear it ... feel it ... and smell it.
It was absolutely everything.
It's true that are gorgeous things everywhere, but what we find high above timberline is
like nothing else.
Emerald lakes are still frozen in July.
Rivers flow under snow, ice, and stone.
And the mountain ranges are spectacular.
WE DO IT FOR OUR ENCOUNTERS WITH THE UNPREDICTABLE
On this trip we walked through acres of fallen trees.
We crossed streams that were higher, colder, and moving faster than we'd expected.
I fished some, but most of the lakes we found were frozen.
At one point, our route found us in the the wreckage of a recent avalanche.
Trails disappeared under snow banks.
When we found a cairn at one point on day five, it seemed like a miracle.
Backpacking, we've come to expect the unexpected.
WE DO IT BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENS BETWEEN US
Some people go backpacking to be alone.
We go to be with each other.
When we're backpacking, we stumble into all kinds of new conversations.
On the trail, around camp, or in the tent, we find that we get to talking ... and then
just go deeper.
Perhaps it's the mixture of an abundance of time, the conditions of perpetual exhaustion,
and the lack of distractions.
One evening, sacked out in the tent during a rainstorm, Zach asked for "a story about
my life" and I find myself recounting every detail I could think of from a trip to central
American over 20 years ago.
Melissa and Zach got to talking one afternoon alongside the river we were camped by, and
they were at it so long that I decided to go take a nap in the tent.
W'hen I woke up, I went back to the river and they were still at it.
We are our own entertainment.
It is what we give to each other.
Back home, we have books and shows and videos like this one to watch and enjoy.
In the wilderness, the most persistent thing we have is each other.
WE DO IT FOR THE PHYSICAL DIMENSION
Walking all day at altitude over uneven ground is not easy.
On the longer days, it seemed almost cruel.
Our steps are measured and take consideration.
On pack days, the extra weight makes shoulders and hips ache and legs burn.
This isn't the standard kind of exercise we do before or after work, before sitting all
day.
This is moving all day long, and because of it we seldom stay awake past nine or ten each
night.
WE DO IT TO BE UNPLUGGED
No email, Facebook, Instagram, text messages, or phone calls.
But also no knocks on the door.
There is no one who can reach us, and we can't reach anyone else.
In these ways, backpacking unlocks a certain freedom and gives us a chance to consider
our thoughts ... our fears ... our habits ... our needs ... and the nature of our personalities.
There is no news but the news around camp.
"Checking the weather" means looking to the sky for thunderheads.
We know it's all temporary, this suspension of being plugged-in, but in the time away
we get a new sense of the manufactured needs we all live with.
WE DO IT FOR THE STATE OF BEING
When we're backpacking, we think so much about things we never attend to in our normal lives
that we begin to feel like different people.
The best example of this is that we're always on the lookout for bears.
We're not overly freaked out by bears or anything like that, but in bear country we pay attention.
Being on the lookout in this way, after you do it for a few days, changes you.
Scanning an area, listening, being prepared ... these are aspects of our beings that can
become suppressed over time.
And when we're on the snow, we look out for soft-spots that we might posthole in.
When crossing rivers, we watch the currents, the depth, and the water temperature.
When it cools off at night, we're careful to put on extra layers and avoid getting a
chill.
These are things we don't have to do back home.
Or maybe I should say, these are things we don't GET to do back home.
Backpacking awakens these states of being, if only for a while.
WE DO IT FOR THE APPRECIATION OF OUR BACKPACKING SYSTEMS
We are aware that backpackers can be gear-heads, and gear can become a distraction.
But we appreciate our gear, and with it we are self reliant.
We have sleeping systems, walking systems, first-aid systems, cooking systems, and water
purification systems.
We have systems that protect us from the sun and the snow, systems for storing our food,
and systems for crossing ice-cold rivers.
WE DO IT TO SHED SOCIAL NORMS
At home, we find we look in the mirror a couple of times a day, think about how we smell and
if we're dirty or not ... and all of that immediately goes away when we're backpacking.
Backpacking dispenses with certain social norms.
We wear the same clothes for a week.
When we get dirty we're dirty, and when we smell we smell.
I'm not saying all taboos and norms disappear.
But some do.
Fashion gives way to the clothing that works: What keeps the sun off, the bugs off, dries
quickly, or keeps us warm is what's best.
After seven days out in the wilderness, it's easy to see the norms we can so easily take
for granted and never even think about.
.........
After this summer's backpacking trip, we immediately started planning our next one.
We don't tend to think that that the reasons we backpack utterly and totally change us.
But it leaves a residue and powerful set of realizations.
In the end, we tend to think that you shouldn't really need to go anywhere or do anything
special to experience these things.
But backpacking makes it possible for us.
It may be our crutch, but it's also our catalyst.