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In typical backpacker fashion, I did my solemn duty of taking off the Thursday before a federal holiday falling on a Friday to schedule a two-night trip followed by a day of rest. A stroke of good fortune allowed me to book Christmas Eve and Christmas night at a small, rustic Forest Service rental cabin in the mountains of the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest.

Given the frigid forecast, it was well worth the nominal fee to know that after skiing around all day I’d have four walls, a roof, and a wood stove to wind down in and not have to put in the full effort required of winter backpacking in the northern Rockies.
Skiing to Hogan Cabin
Parked at noon on Christmas Eve, I skied away from Chief Joseph Pass under overcast but nonthreatening skies. It was in the mid-teens, but I shed my hardshell jacket within a mile of the trailhead. I’d forgotten how much effort cross-country skiing with a pack took and was grateful that it was only six miles to the cabin, on a slightly downhill grade. My gratitude mixed with distraction and enchantment at the snow-covered landscape and my blissful inattention led to me missing the painfully obvious turn to the cabin. By the time I reached the cabin, around 3:30 p.m., I’d skied closer to nine miles than the six I'd planned on. I rarely comment on footwear, but I was glad to be out of ski boots and in down booties as I worked at getting a fire started in the wood stove.
As a consistently non-traditional individual (please forgive or embrace the contradiction), I spent Christmas Eve in a quintessential Christmas scene, sitting beside a crackling fire watching snow fall from the window of a snow-covered cabin in a stand of evergreens on the edge of a meadow, while doing absolutely nothing related to Christmas. I stretched to try and loosen up my muscles, with a slight degree of success. I unpacked and arranged my gear in what seemed like a logical manner. I listened to a bit of music (Palace Brothers) and read from a travel-worn book of poetry by David Berman and from “Outer Dark” by Cormac McCarthy. Each of these three were perhaps equally incongruent with the time and place, but somehow it worked.

After a filling meal of mushroom ravioli and pesto, and a glass of pinot grigio, I took a brief stroll outside to admire the scenery. It was too cloudy for moonlight skiing, but perfect conditions to stand outside in the single-digit temperatures and ponder the vastness of the planet with as much or as little effort as desired. I tucked myself into bed at an embarrassingly early hour and hoped that Santa might bring some fresh muscles to me overnight.

I awoke on Christmas morning to a chilly cabin, slightly stiff legs, and an inch or so of powdery snow. No complaints. I made a quick breakfast, packed up my gear for the day, and headed out the door into crisp temperatures and a cloudy but clearing sky. About halfway through my 8-mile loop I encountered the trail groomer (the forest roads in the area are machine-groomed for skiing by the Bitterroot Cross-Country Ski Club) and stepped off the road to let him pass. We exchanged brief pleasantries and I received some unpleasant news. A close friend of the groomer’s had been solo backcountry skiing two days earlier and was missing; presumed dead. I offered my condolences and we spoke with detached but intense mortality about the dangers of beautiful places before wishing each other well and parting ways.

Needless to say, that exchange didn’t exactly lighten my mood. It was a somber and introspective event as I skied back toward the cabin. Successfully resisting melancholy, I reflected considerably on the themes of loss, of love, of change, and rattled through my mental catalog of personal experiences in each category. The miles slid by on the freshly groomed road as people, places, and decisions streamed across my internal projector and bubbled into my consciousness. Some of these I examined with more purpose than others; some it was almost like watching someone else’s life, especially when speculating on the what-might’ve-beens. But as always, truth and reality were most certainly stranger than fiction or speculation.
This should perhaps be a mere footnote, but I’ve always found strange solace when ruminating on loss or love, or loss of love, in the poetic profundity of a specific line in one of the songs penned by David Berman:
I asked a painter why the roads are colored black
He said, “Steve, it’s because people leave
and no highway brings them back."
Not exactly Zen Buddhism, but I’ve always found more than enough to ponder upon. And ponder I did – about certainty, finality, mortality. All good in moderation, I suppose.
I arrived back at the cabin in mid-afternoon and immediately started a fire to warm the cabin. While waiting for the stove to heat up, I warmed myself by hauling a few loads of wood from the barn on a sled and splitting some for the next guests. More tired, both physically and mentally, than I had anticipated, I enjoyed some tea and read a few chapters before indulging in a brief nap. It was nearing dusk when I awoke and I stoked the fire, ate a large snack, and got excited about the clearing skies and the prospect of skiing under a full moon. It took a couple of hours, and I had to kill some time by reading, writing a letter to a friend, and taking a cautious sip or two of bourbon, but the clouds thinned out and I was able to enjoy the sublime pleasure of moonlight skiing.
Gliding across an expansive meadow illuminated in a monochromatic and surreal light is something I would highly recommend. Not having to rely on the beam of a headlamp to enjoy a landscape after sunset is such a freeing and novel experience. The quiet, the beauty, the vastness – all were amplified by the moonlight and I skied aimlessly outside for the better part of an hour before returning to the cabin.
I’d worked up an appetite and consumed my meal of Thai peanut noodles with chili-lime jerky and fresh-squeezed lime juice in record time. A satisfying meal any time or place, but particularly enjoyable on a cold night after skiing. I stretched some more after dinner and did what bit of pre-packing I could to ensure an early start and limit the chance I would forget something (I was successful on both counts). More reading and I was ready for bed; with a full stomach and tired body I fell asleep quickly.
The Trip Out
I woke a half-hour before sunrise and began packing up by lantern light. Two cups of coffee, a light breakfast, and a few simple housekeeping chores later and I was heading out the door. I stepped into my skies under an impossibly blue sky in temperatures a few degrees shy of zero and began the six-mile trip back to the trailhead. The trip out was pleasant and I was alone on the trail for the most part, although a caravan of snowmobiles briefly interrupted my reverie.

In keeping with my eclectic entertainment choices on this trip, I listened to the criminally under-appreciated Beach Boys album “Friends”. Featuring excellent harmonies, but much deeper lyrics than their more radio-friendly material, this seemingly absurd choice was actually a great soundtrack. Certain lines just fit right in with the glorious sunshine and positive energy of aerobic activity in an idyllic setting:
Your life is beautiful
A seed becomes a tree
A mountain into a sky
This life is meant to be, oh
Now is the time, life begins
I reached the lively trailhead just before noon and it brought a smile to my face to see so many others out enjoying a beautiful day in the mountains. Not wishing to delay the inevitable, I packed up and changed into fresh clothes and then headed out. Rather than head straight home, I made the 40-mile detour to Jackson Hot Springs for a soak and a late lunch. It was a beautiful trip, which is a compliment I rarely pay to journeys taken on pavement, through the lonesome Big Hole Valley to Jackson. I think I saw as many mountain ranges as I did other cars. Pioneers, Beaverheads, Anaconda-Pintlers. Dodge, Ford, Honda.
Soaking in a hot spring is a treat that needs no justification, but it always feels even better after a hiking or skiing trip. Watching steam float from the outdoor pool into the blue sky to mix in with the few clouds overhead was a great way to wind down what might be my last backpacking trip of the year. Forty-two nights backpacking in 2015, each one incredible in its own right. By the time I left the hot spring I was already planning well into 2016, thinking about which new places to explore and which favorites to visit again. All I knew for certain was that there wouldn’t be enough holidays or vacations for half the adventures I had planned.
Need to Know
Information
Visitors are requested to sign in at the trailhead. Hogan Cabin can be booked via recreation.gov by searching "Hogan Cabin" and completing the reservation process. For additional information, call the Wisdom Ranger District of the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest at (406) 689-3243.
Getting There
The trailhead for Chief Joseph Pass and its system of cross-country ski trails is located on Montana Highway 43 a mile or so east of the junction with US Highway 93, near the Montana-Idaho border. Missoula, Montana is the nearest major town (about 100 miles away), although most goods and services can be procured in Darby, Montana or Salmon, Idaho.
Best Time to Go
The best time to go is somewhat dependent on snow, but anytime from December to early March should be good conditions on groomed trails.
Maps & Books
Maps can be obtained from the US Forest Service ranger stations in the area, as well as a nifty brochure map published by the Bitterroot Cross-Country Ski Club that should be available at the trailhead registration booth. This area is also exceedingly well-signed, with maps posted on trees at each major junction. The Delorme Atlas and Gazetteer and / or the Benchmark Montana Atlas can help with getting to and from the trailhead, and can be a help when it comes to exploring other Montana hiking (or skiing) opportunities. For additional ideas on hikes in the state, see Hiking Montana.
The Author
Mark Wetherington is an avid backpacker and occasional writer. Since 2008 he has attempted, with varying degrees of success, to spend 10% of each year on backpacking trips. Born in Tennessee and raised in Kentucky, he now lives on the edge of the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in Montana.

“Build a railroad right through these mountains? You can’t do it, man; you can’t do it. You might as well try to build a railroad on the Devil’s eyebrow as to undertake to build one in such a place.” And so the words of a pioneer gave a rugged sandstone formation in northwest Arkansas its name. The year was 1880, and surveyors were doing preliminary work on the location of the Frisco Railroad. The railroad was built, the name stuck, and today “Devil’s Eyebrow” is one of 75 Natural Areas managed by the Arkansas Natural Heritage Commission (ANHC), which protects the last remnants of the state’s original wild landscapes. Devil’s Eyebrow is the only confirmed site in the state to contain the rare black maple tree, and is a large and well known winter roost for the bald eagle.

Multiple stream crossings create intriguing wading possibilities.
Old logging roads comprise the trail system through this 3,000 acres of deep ravines, clear streams, and limestone bluffs located at the north end of Beaver Lake along Indian Creek and its tributaries. Halfway between Rogers and Eureka Springs in the Ozarks, the Devil’s Eyebrow Natural Area is more than 3,000 acres of bluff-lined hollows separated by steep ridges. While hiking here, the word “diabolical” often comes to mind, with the image of an acutely arching devil’s eyebrow providing a fitting symbol for the topography. Sharp declines plummet to tantalizing streambeds but what goes down must come up, and the climbs – straight up, no switchbacks – are lung busters.

A small cascade in a deep ravine makes a steep climb out worthwhile.
Hiking at Devil's Eyebrow
On my first hike at Devil’s Eyebrow, just after its 2013 opening, there were only a few miles of trail available. But now, there’s an out-and-back trail that extends 5.9 miles from the trailhead just off U.S. Highway 62 to the shores of Beaver Lake, with several spur trails along the way. On my most recent hike there, I took one of those spurs to explore a year-round spring situated amid fern-lined bluffs. Its breathtaking beauty made the (literally) breathtaking trudge out of the ravine well worth it. From the trailhead to the spring, the distance is about 1.5 miles.

Winter offers a wide-open view of the area’s limestone outcroppings.
Just 2.3 miles from the trailhead, a broad streambed provides a perfect spot for a rest, or a good turnaround point. Along the way, numerous stream crossings are worth exploring, each encouraging the hiker to ignore the perils of wet boots and slippery rocks, probing ever more deeply into the beauty of this place. And, a loop trail of 1.4 miles circumnavigates the top of Trimble Mountain, at 1,720 feet elevation, the area’s high point. The trail is also accessible on its south end from the shore of Beaver Lake.

Steep ups and downs dominate the hiking at Devil's Eyebrow.
Thoughts on the Area
I have the feeling that hiking the steep ups and downs of Devil’s Eyebrow is a little like childbirth: right after you’ve done it you think you’ll never do it again, but then the passage of time drapes gauze over the memory of the pain and eventually it seems like a good idea to repeat the process. Devil’s Eyebrow’s beauty is what drew me back a second time with only vague memories of long climbs and indeed I found it was worth the effort.
Need to Know
Information
Devil’s Eyebrow Natural Area is open to the public for hiking, bird watching, photography, and hunting. Travel is limited to foot traffic. The trail is very strenuous and you should be in excellent physical condition to tackle the steep climbs.
Getting There
From the town of Garfield, travel east on U.S. Highway 62 four miles to the town of Gateway. From the junction of Highway 62 and Highway 37 at Gateway, continue east on 62 for one-half mile to the gate on the south side of the highway. This is the entrance to the natural area.
Best Time to Go
The period from late October to late April offers the best conditions for hiking in Arkansas. Summer brings ticks, poison ivy, and hot, humid weather, but the weather is generally mild the rest of the year.
Maps and Books
Maps and other information can be found here. For navigating to and from this and other hiking destinations in Arkansas, an atlas like the Delorme Arkansas Atlas and Gazetteer can be useful and additional hiking opportunities can be found in the book Arkansas Hiking Trails.

Some years ago I was eating breakfast with my wife, Lyn, at the Vermillion Valley Resort when a group of unusual looking people sat down at an adjacent table. They were wiry and weather beaten and gave off a raised-by-wolves vibe. They proceeded to eat enormous platters of food, which they washed down with beer. They turned out to be thru hikers from the nearby John Muir Trail (JMT). After they told us a little about their trip, I said to my wife, “I want to do that! – or, at least, I want to look like that.”

Since then, I have hiked the JMT three times. I would like to share some tips and tricks I have learned that will be helpful to anyone attempting the trail for the first time. I will focus on information unique to this trail and throw in some general thru hiking advice. I assume you know how to backpack, or you wouldn’t be reading this.
John Muir Trail Hiking Logistics
Because (in my opinion) the JMT is the best long trail on the continent, it is very popular, so scoring one of the few permits awarded is difficult. You must plan ahead and apply 168 days before the date you plan to hit the trail. After you apply, you will be put in a lottery for your start date. If you lose, your application will be rolled forward every day until you win, which you probably won’t. Your chances are something like 5%.

Now the good news: Your chances of scooping up a cancellation are quite good if you know this trick: cancellations are posted at 11:00 A.M. every day. If that doesn’t work, you can get to the JMT through the national forest just outside Yosemite National Park and still hike 80% of the JMT. Rush Creek Trail leads to the JMT and is easily accessible from Silver Lake on the June Lake loop off of highway 395. National forest permits are much easier to get. But beware: All of this information as well as the information below may change due to the aftermath of wildfires.
Most people prefer to begin at the north end of the JMT in Yosemite Valley because the elevations are lower at that end. The south end is 211 miles away on top of Mount Whitney. If you start there, you begin by gaining 6,000 feet on the first day. As to timing, August is the best month because there are fewer bugs, probably no snow on the trail, and the stream crossings are not life threatening.

Many people who plan to hike the whole trail send a resupply box ahead to one of three rustic resorts located along the north half of the trail. These places also have small stores where you can pick up almost anything you forgot to pack. The first is Red’s Meadow, but it is the least practical because it is only about five days in. Next is Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR) about two days short of the mid point. They are very kind to thru hikers (The first beer is on the house.), and you can get a shower. Close to the half-way point is Muir Trail Ranch (MTR). The beauty of this detour is the hot springs in nearby Blayney Meadow. They are very therapeutic. Red’s is smack on the trail, and VVR and MTR require short side trips. At VVR you can rummage through boxes of food and gear that other hikers have abandoned. You will find a surprising amount of quality stuff.
There is an interesting feedback loop related to the question of whether or not to resupply. The lighter your pack, the faster you can travel, which decreases the number of days on the trail, which decreases the amount of food you need, which decreases your pack weight, which…If you can carry a 35 to 40-pound pack 15 miles a day, you probably won’t need to resupply. It is worth a shot because you can scoop up abandoned supplies and because, as they say, “The trail provides.” This expression is based on the thru hiker subculture that almost guarantees that people with extra supplies will help those who have run short. Do not count on finding abandoned supplies in the bear boxes scattered along the southern half of the trail. There are signs discouraging this that people tend to obey.

I’ll assume you know about safety and first aid supplies, but let me make a few suggestions. There is very little cell service on the JMT, with Whitney summit being an interesting exception. For this reason, I pack a good first aid kit and a PLB1 Beacon. If I ever push the little red button on this gadget, somewhere a helicopter will take off.
You should know what lightweight gear you like, but I have two suggestions. The air is usually quite dry in the Sierras, so you can use a single wall tent and rarely be bothered by inside condensation. I take a very light sleeping bag, but I also pack lightweight down jacket and pants. In case of a cold snap, I wear my down outfit to bed.
If you prefer a real map, as opposed to a phone app (such as Gaia GPS), a good map set from Tom Harrison Maps can be found here, and National Geographic offers a map guide as well. Muir pass is the only pass you needn’t worry about getting stuck at. You can spend the night in the amazing Muir Hut. When choosing a base camp for your early morning ascent of Whitney, you want the highest flat spot with water.

What about transportation logistics? Specifically, how do you get back to your car? Shuttling a car to the other end of the trail takes at least half a day. There is a shuttle from the south end of the trail to the nearest bus line. This bus will take you to the YARTS bus line that you can take back to Yosemite Valley. Other options exist as well for piecing transportation together, but self-shuttling for your JMT hike is a good way to make your thru-hike possible.
Final Thoughts
The John Muir Trail offers an unforgettable hiking experience, and stretches some 214 miles through California’s Yosemite and Kings Canyon National Parks while passing through several wilderness areas along the way. The youngest person to hike the whole trail was Sara Harris, age 6, and the oldest person to complete the trail was the author of this article, George Graybill, age 80. For more information on hiking the JMT, you can check out the John Muir Trail Guide and the John Muir Trail Data Book.

Sometimes even a quick day hike can provide inspiration for another quick trip or a subsequent backpacking excursion, and such was the case during a past trip and on a family day hike in the Bridger Wilderness of the southern Wind River Mountains. The plan: a simple morning in and a brief offtrail excursion to a river shown on the map, a brief afternoon of fishing, and a return to the trailhead before evening drew on too long. Logistically simple, the hike went as planned and was a typical summer stroll along and off the trail – until we reached the river.

Summer sights were abundant, but the river itself was nowhere to be found. Slightly bewildered and evaluating the map, we did now stand in a slight depression, entirely dry and it didn’t look like water had ever flowed through it. And we weren’t looking for an intermittent, seasonal creek either – this was a legitimate and named river. Doubting my map skills momentarily, I even turned my phone on and double checked with Gaia GPS – and sure enough, the app showed us standing in the river. Hiking on a bit farther through the lodgepole pine forest, we entered a scenic dry meadow where it seemed good campsites – perhaps for another time – were nearly everywhere you looked.

The more I hike, and perhaps the more bad campsites I stay the night in, the more I’ve come to appreciate the good ones. You know the spot: an actual flat place to sleep where you’re not sliding around your tent throughout the night, one that is protected but still with a view, and one that's close enough to a water source – at least according to the map. But this was just a day hike. At such a site in the meadow we had lunch, but with the day getting late the decision was made to abandon the river search and perhaps, return at a later time. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this in the Wind River Range. While the USGS maps are for the most part quite accurate, it seems that when it comes to waterways assumptions have occasionally been made; water always flows downhill, but not always where you think it might at first glance. In any event, finding one of these inaccuracies, whether on USGS topos or usually equally reflected on other options like the Beartooth or Earthwalk maps has always been a great excuse to explore further and to see what the land truly reveals, and adds a bit of mystery to any follow up hike.

Stormy skies and sights in the Wind River Range.
The Return Trip
A year later and in need of a quick and easy family style overnight with easy logistics, we headed back to the site. Some research at home and looking at satellite views had revealed the real location of the river – nearly a mile away from where the USGS topos had suggested. After a drive to the southern end of the range ending with a rough final drive to the trailhead, we hit the trail and made our way towards the meadow we’d eaten lunch at the year before, and after sheltering from a brief and quick moving rain shower we eventually made it just as our younger trail companion’s legs began to fade. Although late in the year…so much that aspens were turning yellow…lupine still bloomed and the last glimpse of summer wildflowers was quite the welcome surprise.

After deciding on a reasonable spot to setup the tent, we ambled off in the real direction of the river, to actually find it this time, evaluate fishing opportunities, and load up and filter some water. The meadow was higher, so after descending a game trail we found, and crashing through the brush, we entered a lush soggy meadow and eventually found ourselves on the river bank of the slowly flowing, lazy river that meandered through meadows.

Filled only with small brook trout, fishing was decided against, but water was filtered and returning to complete camp setup for the night, dinner was had – a fire considered but decided against on this mild evening. Much time was spent relaxing, taking photos, and watching the moon rise, then set, and stargazing as the show emerged overhead in force while elk bugled in the distance. Eventually we all piled into our trusty Tarptent Hogback for the night.

Evening in the Bridger Wilderness
The Hike Out
The next morning after a night well above freezing the elk were again bugling at sunrise, more water was filtered, camp dismantled, and packs shouldered as we made our way back to the trail and eventually the trailhead again. Although a short and easy trip, it was a trip that easily fell together and was easily accomplished and all at a great spot – sometimes just what you need – and with one last glimpse of summer to boot. And best of all, now we know even more than the map at first reveals.
Information
No permits are needed for hiking in this area of the Wind River Range, but proper food storage is required. Mosquitoes and snow can persist well into summer. More information can be found in Hiking Wyoming's Wind River Range, and the Beartooth Publishing Wind River Range South map, the Trails Illustrated Wind River Maps, and the Earthwalk Press Wind River South maps all cover this area.

Among smartphone mapping and GPS apps, Gaia GPS is one of the most popular and one of my favorite smartphone applications for backpacking and hiking. The app is continually updated, and over time it's been one tool I've utilized to plan my backcountry trips at home and to plan out days while on the trail.

The app has the ability to store what would equate to a huge stack of USGS topos right to my phone for offline use, and is free to download for iOS here, or find it for Android here. Much like here at TrailGroove though, to utilize the app to its full potential you really need to upgrade to their Premium / Gaia GPS Pro level to get the most out of the app, for $39.99 a year. Note that a one year Gaia Premium Subscription is included with our own TrailGroove Premium Subscription – details on that here. What follows is a basic introduction and tutorial on using Gaia GPS (with a Gaia Premium Subscription) and a review on how I plan a hiking trip using the app, how to save maps to your phone for offline use, and tips and how to use the app while on the trail.

While there are many other ways to use the app, including the importing of gpx routes, saving maps for a pre-determined route, etc., most of my backpacking allows for much leeway in my route choice and often follows a “choose your own adventure” course as a trip develops. As a result my use is focused on a general area, not a specific route. This is how using the app has best worked for me.
Downloading Maps and Favorite Layers
After you’ve downloaded Gaia GPS and signed up for your premium subscription, it’s time to plan a trip and download the appropriate maps using the app for offline use. First we need to navigate to the appropriate land management area. To begin, open the app and select the “Map” tab at the bottom of your screen. Next, select the layers icon in the upper right hand corner to select your base and additional maps (note that you can always utilize the search function in the upper left, however I prefer the zoom on the map method which works a bit better for me). To locate a general area, for example if we’d like to hike an on and offtrail route through Utah’s Uinta Mountains, it helps to select a base map like MapBox Streets to start with. Much like driving to the trailhead (as seen in the first photo above, I prefer that state's Delorme Atlas for this purpose), a broad overview, street-based map that still offers a reasonable level of wilderness and backcountry detail is best to start with when planning a backcountry trip using Gaia GPS.

If MapBox Streets is not already in the “Visible” list of map sources, scroll down to the available layers and tap the green up arrow to move it there. Then, press and hold on the 3 horizontal lines to the right of “MapBox Streets” and drag your finger to move it to the first (lowest) position among your visible layers. This will make it the base map. Now tap “Done” and pinch or zoom to your state and then on to your trip destination (example browse to Utah--> High Uinta Wilderness Area). Now that we’re centered and focused on the area of interest let’s download the hiking maps to our device.
For hiking I’ve found a few layers are most useful. A good topo map layer is the first essential / base map, and I prefer the USGS topos or the National Geographic Trails Illustrated Maps if one is available for the location. In this example using the Uintas, let’s go the USGS route. Now return to your map layer section (3 tiles in the upper right hand corner). Click the red “X” to the left of Map Box Streets – we can only select 5 layers and it's good to have all 5 available for more hiking related maps. The layers I’ve found most useful for hiking and backpacking over the years are USGS Topo, Shaded Relief, Slope, and Public Land.

With these 4 layers, you’ll be able to map out nearly any hiking scenario. Add them to the "Visible" list, again by pressing the green up arrow for each listed under “Layers”. Make sure to set USGS Topo as your base map and click “Done”. I like to download maps for the entire management unit prior to a trip, just so I know I have everything covered in case the plan changes, and especially since I like to wander a bit or change up plans on the fly.

At this point in our example, we now have the entire Uinta Mountain Range visible. Now let’s create an Area. Click the “+” icon at the top of your device and select “Create Area”. A triangle with 3 blue points will appear. Drag each blue dot to cover the entire mountain range in this example, and adjust the additional blue dots that are created with each drag as needed. Allow a bit of overlap here; better to download too many maps than not enough and if space is an issue, we can always delete these maps after a trip.

Now that we’ve created the area covering the mountain range, tap “Save” in the upper right. The download size will now be calculated and you can adjust resolution here to save space if you want…but I like maps…and you can never have too much detail when you’re out there, so I always select “High” when I can. Our 4 favorite layers (or 5 if you go with a satellite option) should be pre-selected for download. At the top, give a custom name like “Uinta Trip” if desired and now click “Save”. Your download will begin. Tap the spinning wheel towards the upper left of your screen to evaluate download status, and make sure all layers successfully download before your trip. As previously hinted at, another layer that should deserve honorable mention is one of the satellite imagery layers that are available. If you have the space on your device this can be a handy layer to use as well, just for additional information to interpret on top of the more standard mapping data.


Detailed topos along with slope shading and slope angle overlays are quite helpful for planning trips and for navigation on the trail.
On the Trail
Once you get to the trail, you can now utilize all these layers and maps – even offline. From here it’s simple. Open the app and click the location icon in the very center top of the app to locate your location on the map (if you just started your phone and opened the app, give it a minute to acquire GPS signal). Now not only will our nearly exact location be shown, but we can plan out our trip on the fly in fine detail. Instead of carrying a stack of USGS topos, they’re all on your device, and by utilizing our layers we gain additional information, trip intelligence, and improve readability.

To use the layers, again tap the layers icon in the upper right, since we already set USGS Topo to our base map, let’s adjust the opacity of the others using the sliders. Drag the round slider adjustment for each. I like to always set shaded relief at around 25% to the right, and the same for slope. Shaded relief will give you an enhancement of visual contours, and slope details just how steep our Uinta traverse will be. Just like a weather radar map detailing a thunderstorm, more intense colors mean more intense of a slope. For general class 1 and 2 hiking, it’s generally a good idea to keep things in the yellow, possibly orange color range, or no color at all indicates the gentlest hiking slope wise. Purple is definitely getting pretty steep! When needed, use the public land layer to find a place to camp (useful at the start and end of trips where public land may start to be interspersed with private lands), or to make sure your hike stays on public land when you’re travelling through areas where this is a concern. When public and private lands become interspersed, the boundaries can often become very confusing and the app will help eliminate this concern and keep you on track.
At any time press and hold on the map to enter “Route Mode”. A blue dot will be created and will immediately tell you how many miles the selected location is from your current location. Press and hold again and another dot will be created with the app automatically connecting the dots and compiling the distance. Note that at home or if you have a cellular / wifi connection, you can also change the mode here to “Hiking”, and in this mode the app will automatically adjust your route to follow mapped trails if desired. Additionally while online, elevation gain and loss will be calculated. Altogether, this is very handy for pre-trip planning on or offtrail routes, when you know your desired miles per day and elevation gain / loss.

When exploring remote terrain, a mapping app can be useful not only for GPS position if needed, but additionally for the detailed maps you can store on your device.
Closing Thoughts
Of course, this is just a basic introduction to the app, but this will get you started hiking with Gaia GPS. And a quick note on general mapping philosophy – I do not use Gaia GPS as my main map or primary navigation tool. Be sure to take a paper map that details the area, and frankly for primary navigation the paper map is just more convenient and keeps your mapping skills up to snuff. A somewhat detailed yet broad overview map like a Trails Illustrated map, combined with the fine detail of USGS topos saved to your phone when needed makes for a good combination. Be it a drop on a rock or a dunk in the river, or a low battery, smartphone accidents can happen.
One of the many portable power banks or solar chargers can help keep you charged (for a couple of our previous reviews on solar chargers take a look here and here), and a protective case can help protect your phone on the trail (I like a Ziploc bag for waterproofing). Regardless however, paper maps and an electronic devices both have their separate places. On average, I find that a fully charged (don’t forget this step!) phone will last on even week long trips with judicious usage. To save on battery, make sure to only operate your phone on airplane mode (the GPS will still work with the app), and turn the phone completely off when not in use. Out on the trail, you’ll now be able to pinpoint your location using Gaia GPS on a topo map, and combined with the additional layers you’ve downloaded, re-route on the move, or my favorite – just plan for the next day ahead in the tent at night.
You can find Gaia GPS here at the App Store. Check out details on their Premium Subscription here, or for the best of both worlds at least as we see it, a one year Gaia GPS Premium Subscription is also included for free with your TrailGroove Magazine Premium Subscription. Additionally, as a Premium Member you can download our Issue 56 PDF (free download with an active subscription) featuring our full backcountry navigation guide detailing how to navigate on the trail using a variety of techniques.