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While guidebooks lack the high-resolution pictures and crowd-sourced content about trails found in the digital world, they offer hikers information in a tangible, time-tested format that makes them a pleasure to use. Flipping through a guidebook and being inspired to plan trips to a new area is like unwrapping a gift that keeps on giving. Turning the pages on a years old, dog-eared guidebook where I’ve done most of the trips and made notes in the margin is a great way to take a trip down memory lane and an analog alternative to simply looking up pictures posted on social media. Historical equivalents of modern guidebooks helped (or hurt, as some were notoriously inaccurate) pioneers travel to the American West on the Oregon Trail and other routes such as the California Trail and the Mormon Trail, although those texts were more practical than recreational. Today’s guidebooks help hikers enjoy a landscape for a few days or weeks at a time, rather than guiding them cross-continent to pursue better opportunities. Nevertheless, I think it is safe to say that many hikers have taken the trip of a lifetime after doing copious research via maps and guidebooks and been better prepared for the trek. The Benefits of Paper Hiking Guidebooks During the cold, dark evenings of winter, perusing through guidebooks can be a great way to revisit places you’ve hiked and start planning for new places to visit in the more accommodating seasons of the year. Sitting around drinking coffee and immersing myself in a guidebook and corresponding map have gotten me through the dreariest winter days. Guidebooks offer an inspiring mix of escapism and practical planning that I find to be more fulfilling than just sifting through the results of internet searches for information on trails. After a winter of perusing guidebooks, the hard part is prioritizing which hypothetical trips to do in the limited hiking time available before the snow flies again and covers the high country. Well-written guidebooks can be amusing and entertaining as you travel through landscapes with the author and their insight, observations, and humor. My favorite guidebooks are those where the author strikes a perfect balance between naturalist and comedian. Guidebooks for the Red River Gorge area of Kentucky Red River Gorge Trails and Hinterlands, a Guide to Unofficial Trails by Jerrell Goodpaster strike this balance with excellence. Tim Homan’s guidebook to the Joyce Kilmer-Slickrock Wilderness and Citico Creek Wilderness areas in North Carolina and Tennessee contains an excellent, and all-too familiar for most hikers, description of unmaintained trails as being not easily followed or easily enjoyed (to paraphrase), a thought which I’ve used to describe certain trails to curious hikers. The glowing, adulatory descriptions in guidebooks can also be memorable and it’s remarkable at how many different ways guidebook authors have come up with words to describe similar landforms, such as arches or alpine lakes. Strong legs and strong vocabularies seem to be characteristics held by most persons practicing the craft of writing guidebooks. The physical aspect of guidebooks lend them, like pretty much all books and physical mediums of art and expression, fairly well to collecting for persons who have that proclivity. While I try to live a fairly “minimal” lifestyle in terms of purchase of inanimate objects, which is a bit of a misnomer when compared to most of this planet’s inhabitants who would be shocked at the amount of gear I own that goes into my “lightweight” backpack on each trip, I do have a tendency to collect guidebooks. Thrift stores, used book stores, and library book sales can be great places to buy cheap and often out-of-print guidebooks. While it’s not a great idea to plan your vacation on 36-year-old information found in a guidebook, they do give you decent insight into general areas and landscapes and make for nice coffee table displays. Guidebook Limitations It would be irresponsible to write an essay in appreciation of guidebooks without noting that they do indeed have certain limitations. Most notable of these is the fact they become almost instantly outdated as soon as they are published. Forest fires, landslides, trail closures, deferred maintenance – all these issues make trails that have a five-star appeal on paper turn into a nightmare on the ground. Quick fact checking on the internet combined with a call to the nearest ranger station can help mitigate these unpleasant surprises. On the plus side, out-dated guidebooks can be one of the only ways of knowing what lies at the end of an unmaintained trail – providing impetus for hardy hikers to seek out a reward that they will likely get to enjoy in solitude. Hiking guidebooks can offer valuable information that can be applied to upcoming hikes, and often offer a historical perspective as well. Final Thoughts on Hiking Guidebooks Guidebooks exist for most places with any significant concentration of use and many national parks have multiple guidebooks, even upwards of a dozen or more for the most popular. Some wilderness areas or parts of national forests lack any type of printed descriptions at all, other than what is compiled and released by the land management agencies. Some off-trail areas don’t have chapters in guidebooks, or any digital information about them, and that’s not a bad thing. Some hikers tend to gravitate toward those “black holes” of wilderness…no trails on the map, no mentions in guidebooks, no online trip reports…and relish in the feeling of exploration that venturing into such an area provides. While I appreciate guidebooks in the fullest, I also sincerely believe that some spots should remain something of a mystery to stay truly wild, their secrets shown only to those who take the time and effort to see them firsthand. The best guidebooks in this respect may provide just enough information to get you started, but leave further exploration up to the reader. For a multitude of hiking guidebooks you can browse a wide selection covering just about any area you could imagine here at Amazon.com. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 33 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

In my book, a good trail meal needs to taste great and pack in needed calories and nutrition, without being overly complex or time consuming to make on the trail. With dinner frequently being fit in just as the light begins to fade and with tired legs, I often want to jump in the sleeping bag sooner rather than later, but still want a great meal. This one takes a little prep at home and just a little specialty shopping before the hike, but is still ready in minutes on your trip and tastes great. This one takes a little time to prepare at home, but is fast to make out on the trail. Ingredients (Feeds 2 or One Large Appetite) 4 oz. thin rice noodles (the Thai Kitchen brand for example) 2 small packets soy sauce 3 tsp sugar 1 to 1.5 tsp garlic powder ¼ to ½ tsp black pepper 2 tsp corn starch ½ cup freeze dried broccoli dash cayenne 1 package of Mountain House Chicken & Mashed Potatoes Dinner 1 tbsp olive oil or olive oil packets At Home Combine all dry ingredients in a Ziploc bag. Pack soy sauce packets, olive oil, and the Mountain House dinner separately. Pack a spare quart Ziploc In Camp Open Mountain House dinner. Inside you will find the cubed chicken and a separate, sealed plastic bag containing the mashed potato mix. Set the sealed plastic bag of mashed potatoes aside to use with another meal on another night (either as a side dish or to thicken up another meal that’s compatible with herbed mashed potatoes). You can put the mashed potatoes bag (which will have some chicken dust on the outside) into the spare Ziploc. Add dry ingredients to the Mountain House pouch that now only contains cubed chicken. Add olive oil and 2 packets of soy sauce. Boil 1.75 cups of water and add to the pouch. Stir, seal the pouch, and let sit for 5 minutes. Stir again, seal pouch, and allow to sit for another 5 minutes. Stir again after 10 total minutes and eat. This meal is a bit of a non-fried take on a Thai pad see ew with thin noodles, just without the frying to keep things simple. The result is a meal that is simple, savory, and sweet with the freeze dried broccoli adding in a fresh-like element after a day of hiking. Overall, while there’s a bit more prep here than just adding water to an off-the-shelf freeze dried meal, and this is one of my favorite meals when I’m out on the trail. Editor's Note: This recipe originally appeared in Issue 52 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Conquering each state’s high point could take a lifetime and, unfortunately, I didn’t start peak bagging soon enough to expect to claim all fifty. But I’ve acquired a small handful – that of my home state of Oklahoma (Black Mesa, 4,973 feet of elevation) and neighboring states Arkansas (Mount Magazine, 2,753 feet) and New Mexico (Wheeler Peak, 13,167 feet). Being right next door, Texas was a logical next step. Texas being Texas, however, it’s a very long drive from central Oklahoma to Guadalupe Peak (8,751 feet), in the far southwest corner of the Lone Star State. Six hundred miles in fact. I needed some additional incentive to make the trip. That came along when I was pondering training locations for a Grand Canyon backpacking trip. It turns out that Texas’ high point provides 3,000 feet of ascent over 4.2 miles, an incline that adequately mimics the elevation I would be doing in the Big Ditch, in reverse. Guadalupe Peak rises from the southern end of the Guadalupe Mountains, surrounded by the Chihuahuan Desert. Access is regulated by Guadalupe Mountains National Park, which protects the 86,000-acre hiker’s playground just south of the New Mexico state line. My trip was planned for late February, a popular time for recreation in South Texas, with mild temperatures and plenty of sunshine. The small campground near the Pine Springs trailhead for Guadalupe Peak had very limited availability by the time I inquired on behalf of my group of hiking friends, so we decided to find lodging in Carlsbad, New Mexico, 45 minutes away. Some members of my team were also training for the Grand Canyon, and others were there to summit Guadalupe just for fun. “Fun” is definitely a subjective term. The more prepared you are for such an undertaking, the more likely it is to be an enjoyable experience. The opposite is also true. I certainly saw examples of both. The National Park Service (NPS) states the 8.4-mile round trip hike to Guadalupe’s summit takes from six to eight hours. It’s a number hard to fathom if you’re a flatlander accustomed to a steady 2 mph hiking pace and haven’t experienced a similarly steep ascent. In this case, six to eight hours is a reasonable estimate. Hiking Guadalupe Peak We arrived at the Guadalupe Peak Trailhead, 48 miles southwest of our hotel on the southern edge of Carlsbad, at 9 a.m. on a sunny, 50-degree day in late February. The parking lot was full, so we backtracked and parked at the visitor center, about half a mile away. Note to self: arrive earlier the next day. We planned to tackle two other trails the following day, but conquering Guadalupe was our first priority. Just four weeks out from my Grand Canyon trip, I was eager to get on the trail and test my mettle with my loaded backpack. Guadalupe is definitely a more challenging trail than anything in Oklahoma, although my home state’s Ouachita Mountains have some steep inclines…they’re just shorter. The Guadalupe Peak trail’s elevation profile looks like a fairly constant grade, but the first mile is rumored to be the steepest and it did indeed feel that way. Once beyond that distance, the remainder of the ascent felt fairly moderate. The lower part of the trail lacks shade which, with cool temperatures, was not a problem. I could, however, imagine, how grueling it would be in the summer heat and what relief one would feel when the trail turns a sharp corner after about a mile and a half and enters a pine forest on the north slope of the mountain. But why would you hike this trail in the summer? (Being a cool weather hiker I often ask myself this question.) Three miles from the trailhead, the terrain flattens out a bit to an area with high grass and a spur to a backpacker campground. A temporary community of hikers had formed along the trail, leapfrogging each other as one group would stop for a rest and be passed by another, only to pass that group just up the trail. Carrying my big backpack, I was often asked if I were camping up there. “No,” I would say, “I’m training for a backpacking trip.” Where to? “The Grand Canyon.” This often evolved into a friendly conversation, which helped to pass the time. Beyond the campground spur, as we approached the summit, the trail became narrower and more exposed. We crossed a wooden foot bridge built on the edge of a cliff over a deep fissure. Soon, I was looking up at the summit, thinking, “We still have that far to go?” As we approached the top, the trail became more and more rocky and the backside of the El Capitan formation came into view. The south-facing limestone cliff is one thousand feet high, and a striking sight when approaching the park on Highway 180. Reaching the summit involved a bit of scrambling, and crossing one or two areas which felt quite exposed but were not difficult to negotiate. We joined a small crowd at the top, taking time for lunch and a rest, and I donned my down jacket as, not surprisingly, it was cooler up there. It wasn’t terribly windy, although winds at the summit are reported to reach 80 mph at times. And, while I expected a summit marker, I was surprised to see a metal obelisk, placed there in 1958 by American Airlines to honor the centennial of the Butterfield Overland Mail stagecoaches, which passed through the Guadalupe Mountains in the late 1850s on their way from St. Louis to San Francisco. After enjoying the panoramic view of the salt flats to the west, the Chihuahuan Desert to the south and east, and the forested top of El Capitan, it was a quick and easy hike down. Hiking the Guadalupe Mountains: Pinery Station Near the Pine Springs Visitor Center is the ruin of Pinery Station, one of about 200 relay stations along the 2,800-mile Butterfield Overland Mail Route. All that remains are stone walls now propped up by timbers. Named for nearby pine forests, Pinery Station was the highest station on the Butterfield Route, at 5,534 feet of elevation, and one of the most isolated. There’s a 3/4-mile trail from the visitor center to the ruins. It can also be accessed from a parking lot along Highway 180, just outside the park entrance. Waterman L. Ormsby, the only through passenger on the first westbound Butterfield stage, wrote of this location, “In the bright moonlight, we could see the Guadalupe Mountains, sixty miles distant on the other side of the river, standing out in bold relief against the clear sky, like the walls of some ancient fortress covered with towers and embattlements.” At Pinery Station he wrote, “it seems as if nature had saved all her ruggedness to pile it up in this form of the Guadalupe Peak.” Hiking the Devil’s Hall Trail Our second day of hiking began with the trail to Devil’s Hall, which leaves from the same trailhead as the path up Guadalupe Peak. Having learned our lesson, we arrived earlier and were able to capture parking spots at the trailhead. We were again blessed with good weather, although the day started off a bit overcast. The trail is 3.8 miles round trip and starts out unremarkably on a gradually increasing slope, flat compared to the previous day but still about 650 feet of elevation change. The Devil’s Hall trail is rated as strenuous because after the first mile it enters a wash filled with huge boulders and loose rock, requiring cautious footing and careful attention. Unless, that is, you are a small child, several of whom we saw blithely clambering through this section without a thought, provoking great anxiety in their parents. At the end of the trail, we approached a “hallway” of high stone walls, but to reach it first had to climb up a steep, stair-like rock formation called “The Hiker’s Staircase” and edge around a water-filled tinaja. The effort was unquestionably worthwhile. Devil’s Hall is a spectacular 200-foot long narrows with walls 100 feet high and only fifteen feet apart. Very slotcanyon-esque. As we headed back, we were startled to see a small child tumble, really almost slide, down the “staircase,” out of the reach of anyone who could stop him. He emerged unhurt, thank God. Not surprisingly, he was one of the children we saw provoking parental anxiety earlier in the hike. This hike took about three hours and was really the highlight of the trip for me, a slot canyon fan. We ate lunch at the picnic tables outside the visitor center, then prepared for our afternoon hike into McKittrick Canyon. A Day Hike in McKittrick Canyon The McKittrick Canyon Visitor Center and trailhead is about 4 1/2 miles northeast of the Pine Springs Visitor Center on Highway 180 and another 4 1/2 miles back northwest on McKittrick Road. As we left the highway, we noticed a sign saying the gate at the exit would close at 4:30 p.m. We would have to be very conscious of our time on this 6.8-mile hike to the Grotto and Hunter Cabin to ensure we didn’t get locked in. Fortunately, this is a flat and easy trail, much of it graveled and on an old roadbed. Although it involves about 800 feet of elevation change, the grade is so gradual as to be barely noticeable. The trail crosses dry washes a couple of times and one wash which had clear water flowing over stark white rock, reflecting the mountains aglow in the lowering sun on our late afternoon return. A prime attraction along the trail is the Pratt Cabin, built by Wallace Pratt. A petroleum geologist, Pratt bought land in McKittrick Canyon in the 1920s and later donated it to the NPS. His land and that of others eventually purchased by the park service were combined to form Guadalupe Mountains National Park in 1972. The stone cabin was built in 1931-1932 of limestone blocks quarried nearby. It is currently used as an interpretive site and is not open to the public but, looking through the windows to the interior, it’s tempting to think of it as an interesting place to overnight. For us, it was a very brief stop but pleasant nonetheless. And here one begins to really appreciate the beauty of the canyon. Even in winter, the Texas madrone trees with their distinctive red bark and berries, and the faded leaves of maples, added color to the landscape. I kept thinking, “In the fall, this must be spectacular.” Indeed, it’s rumored to be quite a sight when the foliage colors reach their peak. Beyond the cabin, the trail narrows and follows a stream, dry when we were there. Our turnaround point was marked by a small cave and rock tables in a shaded alcove near a spring. This is the Grotto. A short distance farther is Hunter Cabin, a structure once used as a hunting retreat and part of a 1920s ranching operation. The trail continues steeply up to a backcountry campsite and eventually connects with other trails, but this was the end of the line for us. Because of its length the NPS ranks the trail to the Grotto and Hunter Cabin as “moderate” but it was for us otherwise easy. We completed it in three hours’ time and escaped before 4:30. The Guadalupe Mountains turned out to be much more than just another place to check off a state high point. Two days of hiking barely scratched the surface of all this remote and beautiful region has to offer. Guadalupe Mountains Hiking: Need to Know Information Guadalupe Mountains National Park offers a substantial network of trails and backcountry camping. It is also adjacent to the Lincoln National Forest and near Carlsbad Caverns National Park. Ample lodging and dining are available in Carlsbad, New Mexico. For authentic Mexican food, I recommend El Jimador, 509 S. Canal Street in Carlsbad. Best Time to Go Mild winter days offer comfortable hiking and you can expect temperate weather in spring and fall. Colorful foliage also makes autumn a good time to go. The heat makes summer less desirable for hiking. Getting There Guadalupe Mountains National Park is located in far west Texas, 110 miles east of El Paso, Texas and 56 miles southwest of Carlsbad, New Mexico or 62 miles north of Van Horn, Texas on Highway 54. The closest large commercial airline service is El Paso, Texas. Books and Maps Available guidebooks include Best Easy Day Hikes Carlsbad Caverns and Guadalupe Mountains National Parks by Stewart M. Green, and Hiking Carlsbad Caverns and Guadalupe Mountain National Parks by Bill Schneider. For a map see National Geographic Trails Illustrated Map 203, Guadalupe Mountains National Park. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 53 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

Big Bend National Park – the key word here is Big – so big, in fact, that the park is home to thousands of species of plants, animals, and insects, and is so large that it contains an entire mountain range! The park is also quite a ways away from major cities, being in far southwestern Texas up against the Rio Grande River and just across from Mexico, allowing it to be a dark sky location. Ocotillo and Sunset on the Sierra del Carmen Range in Big Bend The Chisos Mountains dominate the center of the park, with the high point being Emory Peak at 7,832 feet of elevation. Surrounding the mountains are thousands of acres of the Chihuahuan Desert. At the southern border is the Rio Grande River at an elevation of around 1,800 feet. The park covers a whopping 1,252 square miles. With this size, variety of elevations, and various ecosystems, there is an enormous potential for hiking, wildlife spotting, and photography. A Hiking Trip to Big Bend I took a week-long trip to Big Bend with my sister in early November 2023. We planned on hiking several trails, plus backpacking in the Chisos Mountains, which included a climb to the top of Emory Peak. The trip did not disappoint! For the first three days, we took shorter hikes of one to five miles each, including Persimmon Gap Draw, Boquillas Canyon, Ernst Tinaja, Balanced Rock, Rio Grande Village Nature Trail, Pine Canyon, Lost Mine, and the Window. All of these led up to our main event–backpacking to a backcountry campsite high in the mountains. Our big trek started (after a couple of false starts) at The Basin, which is the trailhead for many trails. We hoisted our packs and began the hike up Laguna Meadows Trail. It got cloudier as the day went on, and was mostly cloudy by evening. We repeatedly passed and were passed by a group of college-aged “kids” on the hike, but otherwise saw very few other hikers on the climb. We spotted a black bear (there are about 30 to 40 in the park) about 100 feet off of the trail at one point, but it was too far away, moving too fast, and in too much brush to get any pictures. We saw several Mexican Jays that caught our eye due to their bright blue coloring. At the intersection of Colima Trail, the group of “kids” continued south, and we turned east. We went up and over a saddle on the Colima Trail, and then down to Boot Canyon. This part of the hike was about 5.4 miles, with about 2,400 feet of climbing and about 520 feet of descent, and took us around 4 ½ hours, carrying packs weighing roughly 35 pounds each – not exactly ultralight, but we were also carrying about 1.5 gallons of water each, as there was no guarantee that Boot Spring would be flowing enough to replenish our supplies. That evening, we had seven or eight deer pass near the campsite and a later-identified acorn woodpecker that was busy in the trees. It was a chilly evening, so we were in our tents by a little after 7 o’clock. I read for a while and then tossed and turned much of the night – my lightweight air mattress is REALLY noisy! It was about 50° overnight and we had no other “visitors” that we know of. Balanced Rock The next morning, we had our breakfast and saw two young bucks (brothers?) grooming each other and then play-fighting. We had carried small day packs with us so that we could spend the day hiking without the burden of full backpacks. We left our backpacks in the provided bear boxes, flattened our tents (apparently bears get curious about tents left standing), and hiked south in Boot Canyon. When we hiked, there were numerous pools and even some flowing water in the canyon due to some recent rain. We arrived at the end of Boot Canyon Trail at the South Rim, then hiked an easy trail toward the Southwest Rim. We then turned around and continued back along the South Rim to the East and Northeast Rim and finally back to camp. It was a beautiful, mostly sunny day with some cirrus clouds. Despite quite a bit of haze, the views from the rims are spectacular! The Rio Grande River is visible out there in the distance and Mexico just beyond. I really enjoyed the loop and was reluctant to leave. The total distance of the loop was around 6.7 miles with about 2,180 feet of climbing, and it took us 5 1/2 hours, with plenty of stops for photos. The trail along the rim is well-used and easy to follow as it winds along the edge and up and over several higher ridges. It passes through an area of the East Rim that had been burned in 2021 and is just starting to recover, and most of the campsites were in burned areas. I like the direction that we hiked – counterclockwise – as the hike down from the East Rim to Boot Canyon is quite narrow, steep, rough, and when we hiked it, somewhat overgrown – it would have been quite difficult in the opposite direction. On the return to our campsite, we stopped to refill our water supply at Boot Spring, which was flowing at least a liter per minute – something that you can’t always count on. Back at the campsite, we rested and watched birds flit about. There was a Peregrine Falcon that visited briefly, and numerous woodpeckers pecking the trees, at least one catching bugs out of the air. After dinner, while sitting in camp enjoying the evening, a bear visited. He seemed quite interested in us, looking from several angles around the campsite, getting to within 25 feet at times! I tried to take a couple of pictures, but they came out blurry because it was nearly dark. We eventually (after probably only five minutes or so), got him to leave by yelling and throwing a couple of rocks. He seemed somewhat young and scared of us, at one point standing on his hind legs behind a tree, like he was thinking about climbing it. He soon moved on, and we didn’t see him again. That evening, we also heard in the distance, and then just above our campsite after dark, a Western Screech Owl – quite the thrilling evening! The next morning, we broke camp and hiked down Boot Canyon Trail (fairly level trail for about a mile) to the Emory Peak Trail. We left our packs in the bear boxes and then hiked up to Emory Peak, which is about 1.5 miles with about 800 feet of climbing. The trail gets rougher and steeper we climbed, until you reach the last 25 feet. We found we needed to scramble up an exposed rock face of large granite boulders, but the 360° view from Emory Peak, the highest point in the park, is superb. Climbing back down seemed the most treacherous with all of that steep rock and exposure, with no room for any false steps. Once we made it off the peak, we hiked back down and picked up our packs. This was where we saw the most other hikers on the trip, as there were about a dozen resting at this point. Then we hiked down the Pinnacles Trail to our vehicle. The total distance this day was about 8.5 miles with 3,000 feet of descent and 1,700 feet of climbing, and took us six hours with many breaks for photos and rests. Other Big Bend National Park Hikes of Note Pine Canyon Pine Canyon Trail starts from a trailhead off of the main paved roads at the end of a one-lane 6.4 mile track that goes across the desert. The road is rough but was suitable, when we drove it, for a Subaru Forester or similar vehicle. The lower part of Pine Canyon Trail crosses a large Sotol (a type of agave with long, sawtoothed leaves) grassland and slowly climbs into a forested Pinõn-Juniper canyon on the east side of the Chisos Mountains. Sotol along the Pine Canyon Trail in Big Bend National Park The shaded canyon is full of a variety of large trees (including the national champion Arizona Yellow Pine, with a 105 foot height and 9-foot girth – unfortunately we did not know this at the time so did not know to look for it). There are also oaks, junipers, and maples along the trail. The last half mile gets quite steep until you reach a 200 foot-tall pour-off. It had a trickle of water when we were there. The hike was about 4.3 miles round-trip with about 1,000 feet elevation gain to the end. Lost Mine The Lost Mine Trail starts steeply from the parking lot, then less steeply but continuously, with many switchbacks along the way, up onto a ridge overlooking excellent views of the surrounding desert and mountains. This is one of the more popular hikes in the park, and for good reason –the views from the end are amazing, rivaling the views from the South Rim. A pair of ravens felt the same way as they perched on one of the large rocks and watched us. The hike is a total of 4.8 miles round-trip with about 1,100 feet elevation gain to the end. Ernst Tinaja To get to Ernst Tinaja you must first travel the rough four-wheel drive (high clearance needed) Old Ore Road for about five miles. From the trailhead, it’s an easy one-mile walk up a dry wash with very little elevation gain (less than 300 feet) to the tinaja – a pool or depression carved out of the rock below a waterfall. There were several small pools in the wash along the way. The tinaja is in a sloped canyon at the end, and is surrounded by twisted, colorful sedimentary (mainly limestone) rock layers with some fossil shells visible. This is a very good short hike, provided you have the right vehicle to get to the trailhead. The Window The Window Trail starts in Chisos Basin Campground between sites 49 and 51. There is also a trailhead at The Basin, which adds nearly a mile of hiking each way. The trail descends through Oak Creek Canyon to the Window pour-off. The top of the Window pour-off is slickrock–very slick, and is not a place I'd like to be if the rock was wet, with a near 200 foot drop off. Near the end of the trail, we took a side trail (Oak Spring trail) up to an overlook high above the Window, with great views of the surrounding desert and mountains. Along the trail and at the Window, there are usually a few visitors, as this is another of the most popular hikes in the park. The view through the window frames panoramic desert vistas. The hike (without the side jaunt to the overlook) is about 4.8 miles round-trip with 900 feet elevation drop to the end (and 900 feet back up to the trailhead!). The extra side-trip to the overlook adds just over a half-mile and an extra 350 feet of climbing and descent, but the view is worth the extra effort. Hiking in Big Bend: Need to Know Information There are four developed campgrounds in the park. Information on seasons and reservations can be found here. Advance reservations are needed for all camping in the park. Permits are not needed for hiking. There are five visitor centers. Water is a concern and we packed in all that we needed. Getting There Big Bend National Park is quite isolated, and a long way from major cities. It is about 4 hours south of Midland-Odessa, 5 hours from El Paso, and over 8 hours from Dallas. The nearest major airports are at Midland/Odessa, Texas (235 miles from park headquarters) and El Paso, Texas (330 miles from park headquarters). Best Time to Go November through April are the busiest times. Later spring, summer, and early fall can be very hot. Summer can be even hotter. Spring break gets very busy. Campground and lodging reservations are required and can be made up to six months in advance. Maps and Books We used the Trails Illustrated 225 topo map of the park and the Falcon Guide: Hiking Big Bend National Park. Also, the Hiker’s Guide 2021 by The Big Bend Natural History Association is a good source. I additionally found Nature Watch Big Bend to be very informative about the park. Lastly, there is a Best Easy Day Hikes: Big Bend National Park guidebook available. Editor's Note: This article by Steve and Melissa Ancik originally appeared in Issue 56 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

On any hiking or backpacking trip, the ability to procure drinking water during the hike is one of the most important logistical considerations for both pre-trip planning as well as while we’re on the trail. Finding the water is of course the first step, and having the necessary gear to properly process the water so it’s suitable to drink is the second part of the equation. Here we’ll look at the main types of water filters and backcountry water treatment methods that are best suited for backpacking and hiking, and elaborate on the necessary reading between the lines that needs to be done when choosing the best backpacking water filters or treatment options for backcountry use. An assortment of various types of backcountry water treatment options Backpacking & Hiking Water Treatment: What We Need to Treat & Filter Microorganisms and Biological Concerns While protozoan concerns such as giardia and cryptosporidium get the most publicity, concerns are best looked at in a categorical fashion. Starting with biological contaminants from smallest to largest, viruses (example: hepatitis, rotavirus, often smaller than .1 micron) are notoriously difficult to filter as they can slip through most common filter’s pore size. Luckily, viruses are mostly a concern where there are many other people – for example where you might find untreated sewage. However, it’s always important to remember the source of the water you’re filtering. Bacteria (example: E.Coli, Salmonella, average size greater than .3 microns) are a more common concern in the wilderness as they are spread by both humans and wildlife, but luckily they are larger than viruses and more easily captured by most common filters. Protozoa are a bit larger and include cryptosporidium and giardia, and a filter that will filter to 1 micron or smaller is recommended for removal. Concerns that are larger still include tapeworm eggs and unsightly, but not necessarily dangerous, critters of various types in your water such as insect larvae. On many occasions I’ve scooped water from crystal clear mountain streams and upon close inspection, have been quite surprised at what that scoop reveals to the eye – from sticks and stones to tadpoles and worms of various types – not to mention what you can’t see. I prefer to get my calories from my food bag while backpacking, and luckily these larger organisms are of course, very easily filtered. Water sources will vary in purity, but various types of backcountry water treatment and filtration methods are available and can be utilized. Each method offers pros and cons, and I often prefer to use methods / technologies in combination depending on the trip. Other Treatment Considerations Many other components can make up the water you’re drinking in the backcountry as well. Chemicals, pesticides and herbicides, heavy metals, tannins, silt, taste and odor, as well as natural particulates of various types will need to be considered. Some of these concerns will only affect smell and taste, others could affect your health. Visible suspended matter is removed by most filters, but tannins and taste / smell can pass through – in my experience even drinking tea colored water however, has been fine. If your water source is downstream of an area that has seen prior or active agricultural or mining use for example, chemicals and other various components introduced by man could be in the water source, especially as you move further downstream in the water supply chain. To reduce these types of contaminants and concerns we can utilize a purifier or filter that contains a carbon stage, or add a carbon element or step to an existing setup to assist in reducing many of these possible impurities. Physical Water Filters and Purifiers Most water treatment products designed for backcountry use that are reasonably lightweight, will not address all of the above concerns in one fell swoop. Thus, we need to evaluate our backpacking and hiking destinations, as well as our own personal comfort level to find the best compromise. For backpacking in the mountainous wilderness areas of the United States for example, the general consensus is that viruses are usually not of a great concern, and many times our water sources are fairly pure from man-made pollution as we’re getting it close to the source. In these cases bacteria and protozoa are usually the main concerns. Other backcountry trips may find us filtering water on the banks of a river far from the source, that has passed through many towns before we consume it, perhaps on foreign soil, and the full gamut of contaminants are more of a possibility. Water filters do just what they say; they filter the water to a certain micron level to remove bacteria and protozoa. Water purification by definition, including options like the First Need XLE will take this all a step further by also removing viruses, though not all products that are officially listed as purifiers will remove or reduce chemicals, heavy metals, tannins, debris, etc. – your water may be purified by marketing general standards, but it will not necessarily be “pure”. A classic pump filter works well for pulling water out of hard to reach and shallow sources. Popular water filters for backcountry water treatment should filter to an absolute pore size of .3 microns or smaller for adequate removal of bacteria, protozoa, and all things larger. Note the absolute part of the pore size equation, as filters listed with a “nominal” pore size will only on average filter to that level. Absolute is a guarantee, and is the number we’re actually interested in. If you prefer viral protection, you will need an option with a much smaller absolute pore size; as a result flow rate will likely suffer and these types of purifiers are rare. Alternatively some filters combine with other technology to treat the virus part using an iodine or ion exchange process. Backpacking water purifiers that remove viruses physically are rare but can be found in the MSR Guardian pump purifier. Other options combine a normal filter with a cartridge that contains an iodinated resin for added virus protection, while the Grayl purifier uses an ion exchange process to achieve this goal. Types of Backpacking & Hiking Water Filters Physical filtration can be achieved utilizing various types of elements and technologies. The most popular lightweight water filter technology today, hollow fiber filters work by passing water through a multitude of small tubes; tubes that are perforated by many, many, pores so small (rated to the micron) that anything larger than this pore size cannot pass through, trapping any living organisms or non-living matter larger than the pore size. Hollow fiber filters are popular for their light weight and versatility – you can pretty much find one in any filter configuration you prefer – be that as a gravity filter, inline filter, or pump. Hollow fiber filters can usually be backflushed to help restore flow rate, and flow rate will vary depending on pore size, surface area, and use. The most popular hollow fiber filters are in the .1 to .2 micron range making them sufficient for bacteria and protozoa, and this micron level is usually a good balance of protection, sufficient flow rate, and lifespan. Smaller micron, virus-rated filters also exist in this category as seen with the aforementioned MSR Guardian purifier, but flow rate will be slower due to the smaller pore size. Gravity filters, an example shown here using hollow fiber filter technology, use the force of gravity to move water through the filter. Hollow fiber filters cannot be allowed to freeze when wet (the MSR Guardian is an exception) or after they've been used, so on trips where it will freeze at night you’ll need to sleep with the filter in your sleeping bag or carry it in your pocket any time temperatures begin to flirt with freezing during the day – this goes for nearly all other filters using different types of elements as well. In addition to freezing, physical filters also need to be treated with some care in regards to drops and impacts, which could damage the element. Some hollow fiber filters like the Platypus GravityWorks (read our full GravityWorks review here), and the Katadyn BeFree have manufacturer supported integrity tests which are very helpful for a little peace of mind – unlike other gear, you can’t really tell if a filter is working properly or not, without this test. Other types of physical filter media will use a ceramic element like the MSR EX filter, and the Katadyn Pocket Filter, or utilize a glass fiber element like the venerable Katadyn Hiker Pro. Ceramic filters have the ability to be repeatedly field cleaned. Some filters are entirely self-contained and will need to be thrown away when their flow rate diminishes too much to be of practical use, while others setups will have a replaceable cartridge that fits into a housing. Approaches to Filtering in the Field No matter what filter technology you end up going with, physical filters are most often utilized in an inline, gravity, squeeze, or pump configuration. The traditional pump water filter requires you to pump the water through the filter element via a hose in the water source, and is a proven setup at both getting you water and providing an ample upper body workout. Pump filters have moving parts and increase the complication and weight, but these are also great for pulling water out of hard to reach places. The other methods will require you to fill some type of reservoir with dirty water first, by either submerging the dirty water container or bag in the water source or, if it’s one of those shallow or small sources you occasionally may need to use a separate vessel to fill the dirty container, like a mug (boil later to sterilize). An inline water filter connected to a hydration setup treats water as you drink. Gravity setups like the Platypus GravityWorks and the Katadyn Gravity BeFree let gravity do the work for you, by filling a dirty reservoir with water and by elevating, hanging from a tree branch or rock if possible, water passes through the filter element into a clean container. Inline setups such as the MSR Thru-Link splice into the tubing of your hydration reservoir and your own drinking force filters the water with each sip, while with squeeze setups like the Sawyer Squeeze, you can utilize a combination of gravity and squeezing force to move the dirty water through the filter and the filtered water into a clean vessel or drink directly. Other options integrate the filter into a water bottle (LifeStraw Go Series) or softbottle (BeFree), where much in the same manner as an inline filter with a hydration reservoir, your drinking or a combination of drinking and squeezing is what filters the water as you go. Straw type options like the Lifestraw Peak (view at REI) are also another strategy, treating water by directly inserting one end into a water source and drinking from the other side of the straw. A straw filter is limited in that you cannot process larger volumes of water and each sip takes more work, and straw filters are perhaps best reserved more for emergency usage. In whatever case, seek out the cleanest water possible to prolong the life of your filter and for the best flow rate. While many filters can be backflushed or cleaned, this is usually a losing battle over time. Although filters are rated by the gallon or liter in regards to their lifespan, and while it’s a great idea to evaluate this when choosing a filter, take this number with a grain of salt. Clean water is important for other treatment methods as well; in very turbid situations it’s a good idea to allow water to settle in a separate container (in for example, a Sea to Summit Bucket), then treat from the top. Luckily, this is more of the exception than the norm for most of us. Backcountry UV Water Treatment Ultraviolet treatment options like those offered by Steripen, come in various forms using either normal or rechargeable batteries, and utilize, as with many municipalities, UV light from a special lamp that’s inserted into your water container to neutralize many microorganisms by disrupting their DNA. This process usually takes about a minute and you’ll most likely be treating a liter of water or so at a time. Some other UV bottles have come (and gone) to / from the market that feature an integrated lamp, and yet others have been designed to float from the surface of your water vessel. UV water treatment uses battery powered ultraviolet light that's inserted in a container to treat many microorganisms. On the plus side, these UV treatment options are quite effective at neutralizing the things that physical filters have the toughest time with – viruses – and the technology is proven. However, many are not comfortable relying on an electronic and potentially fragile instrument for their main or only wilderness water treatment source. Additionally, UV light on its own is not sufficient for neutralizing all living organisms that could be present in your water – tapeworm eggs for example, or larger organisms and larvae that may or may not do any harm but may not necessarily be what you want to ingest, nor will a UV product remove anything from the water or improve its composition. If the water is dirty, you’ll be drinking dirty water. Steripen offers a filter with a 40x40 micron mesh screen that can help here, which is intended to reduce organic matter or particulates. Performance may also be insufficient in murky water, requiring pre-filtration. All said, this is an excellent technology as long as you’re aware of the limitations; I utilize a Steripen Adventurer Opti as a secondary treatment with a hollow fiber filter on any trip where I desire viral treatment. Chemical Water Treatment Chemical treatment usually utilizing chlorine dioxide (Aquamira) or Iodine (Potable Aqua) and on occasion some other chemicals like household bleach or other chemicals that produce chlorine, like Aquatabs can be effective, but like anything this category has its share of pros and cons. In contrast to physical filters and like UV treatment, chemicals are again effective against viruses, but often take longer (hours) to work on such concerns as cryptosporidium (4 hours) and these products will add a taste to your water; other products are not suitable for cryptosporidium whatsoever. Advocates for chemical treatments praise the ease of just adding the treatment right into their water bottles and allowing the treatment to take place as they hike. To be honest, most of my thought goes into making sure my drinking water source is either free of any chemicals or how to reduce or remove them should there be any chance of them being present, so chemical treatment is a bit counter-productive from my point of view, and options like iodine are not an option for pregnant women or those with any type of a thyroid issue. Iodine and chlorine (i.e. bleach) on their own, are not effective against cryptosporidium. However, this method is lightweight and over the years has been popular with ultralight backpackers, though decreasing in recent years with the increased availability of very light hollow fiber filters like the Sawyer Mini. In this category, other devices have seen the market over the years that create a solution with salt to create an oxidant solution that you subsequently dissolve in water; but as with other chemical treatments, with a 4 hour wait time these are not the quickest of options. An example can be found in the discontinued MSR MIOX. These devices seem to come and go from the market. Chemical treatment may also be integrated with some filters to move them into the purifier category. As with boiling, chemical treatment can be a good backup to bring as well or to utilize in conjunction with other methods. Hundreds of miles from the source, I took extra steps in my treatment process at this backcountry location. Boiling Boiling water is an excellent way to neutralize microorganisms that might be present, but it takes a while, requires a lot of fuel, and let’s be honest, on a hot summer day, who wants to drink steaming hot water when we could be drinking that crisp and cold water from a mountain stream? As such, boiling can be tough to utilize as a main water treatment method on most 3 season backpacking trips, but it’s an excellent method to keep in mind as a backup method should your filter or other method fail you. In winter however, melting snow for water may be your best and only option. Be sure to bring a big pot (my Evernew 1.3 works well solo) and a stove that will work well during continued usage in cold conditions like the MSR WindPro II – read our WindPro II review here. Opinions on how long to boil water vary widely; the CDC suggests bringing water to a rolling boil for 1 minute, or for 3 full minutes at altitudes above 6562 feet (be sure to check that 2 on the end of your altimeter!). Data suggests however that pathogens are neutralized at lower temperatures; in the end it depends on heat and time but luckily, both are achieved by bringing your water to a boil and after removal from heat. Carbon Filtration As we’ve seen, the technologies used above are all mainly designed to thwart microorganisms. If improving the taste and smell of your water, or if any agricultural and / or industrial contamination is a concern, look for a system that integrates filtration technology combined with a carbon stage that will improve and / or reduce, but not necessarily eliminate, these concerns. If desired, a carbon element can be integrated into an existing system using a modular approach to filter water further. This will increase the weight of your system, and possibly the cost of replacement elements, etc., but there is of course no free lunch. The Grayl UltraPress and Katadyn Hiker Pro are all examples of filters with integrated carbon filtration – or if you’re like me and have settled on a treatment method that does not address this concern, but you may occasionally head out on a trip where some of these concerns would be nice to cover, you can always splice in an add-on carbon element (I use an add on GravityWorks Carbon Element) for this purpose when needed. My Approach to Backcountry Water Treatment For a complicated issue, there are unfortunately no one size fits all solutions and in the end, when we’re concerned about not carrying extra weight, it all comes down to a compromise and what each one of us is most interested in removing from our water. Luckily there are many lightweight and effective options out there to choose from. For general backpacking we should expect to find an option that will treat what we’re concerned with for around a pound or less. About half a pound is usually doable, and lighter options of just a few ounces are very realistic to target. The best backpacking water filter or water treatment method very much depends on the task at hand. Most of my trips are very well served by standard hollow fiber filtration technology; as with all of us most likely, my preference is to backpack into areas where the water is already fairly good. As such I’m not usually concerned about viruses or pollution, (both a Steripen and carbon filter have a spot in the gear room for such destinations to use in conjunction with a hollow fiber filter), and I like to target the removal of bacteria, protozoa, and the removal of larger critters no matter their parasitical intent or lack thereof. The hollow fiber filter also has that added benefit of giving your water a good scrub; removing particulate matter. I really like a filter that has a manufacturer supported integrity test as well, so it essentially comes down to the cartridge for me. The Platypus GravityWorks cartridge fits all of the above criteria, and it just so happens the whole setup it comes with works well and is pretty darn convenient to use both on the trail as well as in camp. For a complete list of backcountry-ready, tried and tested backpacking water filters and treatment methods that you can sort and filter by all the main points we’ve discussed in this post, check out this page at REI.

The Great Divide Trail in the Canadian Rockies is the stuff dreams are made of. Remote grand mountainous wilderness, picturesque scenery, a level of solitude that’s rare to find these days, and that hint of anticipation and suspense that comes with hiking through grizzly country. There is definitely an intimidation factor that comes with hiking in the lesser traveled Canadian Rockies, but the secret is out, and the GDT is gradually becoming one of the most destined thru-hikes in the world. The Great Divide Trail extends from the northern terminus of the Continental Divide Trail about 700 miles north into Canada. Thru-hiking the Great Divide Trail The southern terminus for the GDT, at Waterton Lakes National Park, is also the northern terminus for the Continental Divide Trail (from Mexico to Canada in the US), and the eastern terminus for the Pacific Northwest Trail (from Montana to the Pacific Ocean). Northbound from Waterton Lakes, the GDT extends about 700 miles along the border that separates British Columbia and Alberta. Along the way, passing through many forest reserves and wilderness areas, 5 National Parks (including Banff and Jasper), and 7 Provincial Parks. Given the information presented thus far, it’s hard to believe the GDT isn’t more traveled. That’s because there is a price to be paid to earn those rewards that the GDT can bring. There are a few main factors that impact the GDT and keep the crowds down. First of all, the GDT does not run near large cities or communities. There are nicely spread out resupply stops along the trail to send resupply boxes, but overall, the trail is relatively remote. I really enjoyed this aspect of the GDT, but it also impacts the quantity of resources and ability to maintain the trail. Brushy Trail along the David Thompson Heritage Trail Unlike the US, which has the National Trails Act, Canada does not have the degree of funding and laws that help to preserve and promote long trails. Given these challenges, the Great Divide Trail Association (GDTA), which is a fully voluntary association, has made great strides in the recent years in clearing and maintaining some of the most neglected sections. The GDT is not fully blazed nor maintained, and it never will be. The GDT is intended to have those undefined areas where you can freely roam cross-country through an alpine meadow or over mountain passes. That explorer aspect is the essence of the GDT that sets it apart from other long distance trails. There are many sections with clear trail, but there are just as many that are overgrown, contain downed trees, missing bridges, or marshy meadows. Combine this with the fact that some form of cold precipitation is likely many days, and you have a recipe for discomfort. Fire damaged trail along Colonel Creek, Mount Robson Provincial Park This is definitely not a trail for the pampered, but it is for those who enjoy the aspect of a more rustic experience with added challenges that promote solitude and independence. The weather is definitely the x-factor for the GDT. I'm not going to lie, there is rain, sleet, hail, and snow possible everyday on the GDT. There is no way to avoid it. For me and my hiking partner, the rain would usually be a light rain sometime overnight. We were thankful for that, and that it wasn't raining as much when we hiked. However, the rain did make all the thick brush along the trail wet, and the car wash effect took place on very cold mornings. Some days, we would be drenched with soaking wet shoes sometimes just minutes into the early morning hiking. Having dry shoes the second half of the hike was an anomaly. There is no avoiding it and trail runners or a lighter boot are your best bet if you ever want them to dry out. Descending Cataract Pass, Jasper National Park The good news is that we were fortunate to have avoided foul weather where it mattered. What really makes the GDT amazing are the high route options. We considered the high routes to be the first option and threaded the needle many times just barely making the clear weather window. Sometimes, other hikers just a few days from us, were not as fortunate. Due to weather conditions, they were forced to stay low on the GDT where there was more overgrowth and soggy terrain. This is why the x-factor of the weather can strongly impact a GDT experience. Generally, the hiking window for the GDT is July-early September, but there really is no guarantee of ideal weather. There is just something indescribable about the GDT that puts it on a whole other level. It’s a trail that makes you feel small in the best way possible. There is something about all the ingredients that come together to create a very rewarding and adventurous experience if all the chips fall correctly. That experience is only magnified when you’ve pushed through the cold rivers, fallen trees, washed out trail, and bushwhacked through ice cold wet brush to get to those vistas. Rolling the dice and crossing fingers that skies will clear and clouds will part just when you need it. Both thanking and cursing that dense forest that can feel claustrophobic one moment and then be a safe haven from storms the next. That rush of exhilaration and unfathomable wonder as you hike on a trail-less ridgeline with the Canadian Rockies endlessly stretching in every direction. Final Thoughts on the Great Divide Trail I intentionally avoided specifics on the hike itself, because each day was so unique and varied. Anyone interested in a detailed daily journal of the hike, can visit my website noted at the end of the article. One important note I would like to make however, is that many GDT thru-hikers end their hike at Mt. Robson Provincial Park, mainly for logistical reasons. The final stretch of the GDT that continues north from Mt. Robson for another ~100mi to end at Kakwa Lake is incredibly remote and traveled by few. It’s a long carry for most and logistically a more challenging exit, but rewarding, especially if weather is going to be clear. The high route alternates in that final leg to Kakwa Lake are incredibly grand and rewarding. As I said before, the stuff dreams are made of. In talking with some of the veteran long distance hikers who have experienced a wide variety of long trails, there are many that agree with me that the Great Divide Trail just may be THE best trail we’ll ever hike. There is something bittersweet about that realization...but the great thing is that I can return (like many GDT thru-hikers seem to do) and I know it will be a uniquely new and inspiring experience each time. Great Divide Trail (GDT): Need to Know Information Check out www.greatdividetrail.com for more information on the Great Divide Trail and previous hiker journals. Given that the GDT goes through 5 National Parks and 7 Provincial Parks, permits and reservations would be needed. The Great Divide Trail Association provides more detail on this on their website with a list of all the campsites and which ones require permits. The main ones most thru hikers would need to pay attention to are Banff, Jasper, and Kootenay National Parks and Robson Provincial Park. Getting There Since the GDT goes through so many National and Provincial Parks, there are many places to jump on and do sections of the trail. Hikers looking to start at the southern terminus at Waterton Lakes National Park can fly into Calgary and rent a car or use the Airport Shuttle Express service. Driving to Waterton Lakes National Park is also doable and there are possibly resources through the park for leaving a vehicle for the length of the hike if needed. Best Time to Go The Canadian Rockies are often blanketed in snow, so the window of time to go would be July through mid-September with mid-July through mid-August being the most ideal in typical years. Maps & Books The guidebook for the GDT is Hiking Canada’s Great Divide Trail by Dustin Lynx. There have been some improvements made since the publication of the guidebook and those can also be found on the GDTA website. The maps for the GDT cannot yet be purchased as one complete unit. It’s a bit of a piecing together from various sources like National Geographic, Gem Trek Maps and map sets made by previous hikers. Erin “Wired” Saver is a long distance backpacking blogger that has hiked over 10,000 miles since 2011 including hiking’s Triple Crown (Pacific Crest Trail, Continental Divide Trail, Appalachian Trail). Editor's Note: This article by Erin "Wired" Saver originally appeared in Issue 28 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

For those of you who live in areas where you can camp year-round – or those of you intrepid enough to dig snow caves and hunker down, this squash soup makes a rich seasonal meal that’s spicy enough to heat you from the inside. The topping of crispy lamb with cumin and sunflower seeds adds a taste sensation bold as a winter camper. Soup “bark” is dehydrated pureed soup. The liquid is poured on solid trays then dehydrated until crisp (see dehydrating your own backpacking meals). It often tastes good as a cracker or chip, too. Package in a zip-style baggie and rehydrate in hot water. Remember: Save a bowl with lamb crisps for your dinner! Add a sprig of cilantro. At Home Ingredients (2 servings) 1 tablespoon olive oil 2 shallots, minced 4 cups vegetable broth 2 cups diced winter squash (such as pumpkin, butternut, or acorn) 4 cloves garlic, minced 2 cups collard greens, thinly sliced and cut in half I chopped small red chili pepper 4 tablespoons soy sauce 1 tablespoon red pepper chili oil (to taste) black pepper and chilipowder to taste 1/2 lb organic lamb steak, sliced very thin 3 tablespoons whole cumin seed 3 tablespoons sunflower seeds chili powder to taste 1 cup apple cider vinegar 2 tablespoons coconut oil 3 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari Instructions In a soup pot, heat 1 olive oil, shallots, garlic, and squash on medium high. Sauté for 5 minutes. Add broth, soy sauce, and chili oil. Cover and simmer on medium heat for 10 minutes. Add the collard greens, chopped chili, cover, and continue to simmer until all ingredients are soft. Puree the soup. Adjust seasoning to taste. Pour puree onto solid dehydrator trays and dehydrate until it becomes crispy. Break “bark” into pieces and package in a zip-style baggie. Label. Freeze the lamb steaks until they are slightly firm. With a sharp knife cut very thin 1/8” x 1” x 1” pieces. Toast cumin, sunflower seeds, chili in a frying pan with 1 tbs. soy sauce. In a shallow dish combine apple cider vinegar, coconut oil, and 2 tbs. soy sauce. Grind ½ the toasted cumin, sunflower, chili mixture together (I use a coffee grinder) then add to the marinade. Add the lamb slices and refrigerate for at least one hour or overnight. Discard the marinade, place the lamb on a cookie tray and cook in a pre-heated 325-degree oven for five minutes. Dehydrate the lamb until it is very crispy, like chips. Package the lamb crisps and the remaining toasted cumin, sunflower seed, chili mix in a zip-style baggie. Label. Squash & Lamb Backpacking Soup: In Camp Rehydrate the squash soup bark with 3 cups of water. Heat and serve with a generous sprinkling of lamb-cumin crisps on top. Add a sprig of dandelion greens or wild onion for color! This goes well with a cranberry chutney. Find out how to make chutney roll-ups and other ultra nutritious and delicious backpacking meals in Backpackers' Ultra Food. Editor's Note: This recipe originally appeared in Issue 12 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

For cold weather backpacking, nothing hits the spot quite like a soup. The broth heats up a person from the inside and is welcoming. And if the dish is on the spicy side? Even a little more heat to warm those winter or even early spring nights. Here is a meal that is quick to make, fills the belly and has a bit of heat to keep a person warm during cool weather backpacking trips. This recipe takes ramen noodles to the next level, and especially hits the spot on cold weather backpacking trips. The dish uses the old standby of both poor college students and thrifty backpackers: Ramen noodles. But by adding some vegetables and discarding the flavor packet for a spice mixture made at home, the dish really is quite flavorful and is something to look forward to on backcountry adventures. Curried Chicken Backpacking Ramen Ingredients 1 package ramen noodles 1 pouch chicken (7 oz) 2 tablespoons dehydrated coconut milk powder. This item is found at many health food stores or online. Nido powder also makes an acceptable substitute if not quite as flavorful as the coconut milk. 3 tablespoons of dehydrated vegetables Dehydrate your own -OR- Harmony House sells a variety of dehydrated veggies. I like the vegetable soup mix myself with carrots, onions, tomatoes, peas, celery, green bell peppers, green beans, and parsley. It is a wonderful mix useful for many different dishes. For the Curry Powder Curry powder with dashes of salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste preference. Want a milder taste? Use 1 tablespoon of the curry powder Use 1 ½ tablespoons for a moderately spicy taste Like some heat? Use 2 tablespoons and season liberally with more red pepper flakes! OPTIONAL: 2-3 stalks of fresh green onions. Green onions pack well and add a delightful flavor for backcountry cuisine. At Home Pre-measure the vegetables, milk powder, and curry mix. Place each ingredient in a separate sealable plastic bag. The chicken and ramen noodles are conveniently pre-packaged. If taking green onions, place in a sealable plastic bag as well. In Camp Bring two cups of water to a boil. Add ramen noodles. Discard flavor packet. When noodles are starting to become tender, add dehydrated vegetables. Stir. When the vegetables look to be mainly hydrated, add in curry powder and stir. Repeat step with milk powder. If desired, add chopped green onions. Simmer on low heat and stir. Cover pot Wait for five to seven minutes. Enjoy! TIP: Make the dish with less water for more of a stew. Make the dish with more water to make it even soupier to have a large amount of broth to drink. Adjust the spices accordingly. Editor's Note: This recipe by contributor Paul Magnanti originally appeared in Issue 21 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Nights are long on the trail in late October. The sun sets early and there we are in camp, 13 hours of darkness ahead. The camp fire – if we build one – provides amusement for only so long, and after hiking together all day there is little left for the four of us to talk about. We try to stretch the evening all the way to 8 o'clock but typically give up and retire to our tents by 7:30. Once inside my MSR Hubba, I use the light of my headlamp to review what the trail guide says about the miles we did today, and read ahead for what tomorrow will bring. A few minutes looking at photos on my camera's small screen and a couple of pages on the Kindle app of my iPhone, and that’s all the battery life I dare use on this week-long backpack. That gets me to about 8:15, when I give up and try to settle into my sleeping bag. Sleep is slow to come and when it does, it's interrupted by coyotes howling close to camp and a chain of hoot owls sending late-night messages. Then I start over, not daring to look at my watch for fear the earliness of the hour will only discourage me. "Girls, it's 5:35!" "Thank God," I think when I hear Mary's words, not sure whether I’ve slept at all. That wake-up call is a huge relief. With Mary McDaniel, Janet Hamlin and Pam Frank, I am hiking the western half of the Ozark Highlands Trail (OHT), in northwest Arkansas. Eighty-five miles in seven days is our goal and we have scheduled the trip for late October to enjoy fair weather and peak fall foliage. The full length of the trail is 165 miles (an update from the Ozark Highlands Trail Association says it is 197 miles and growing) starting at Lake Fort Smith State Park and running northeast to the Buffalo National River. Our end point for this hike will be the Ozone Trailhead, mile 85.7, the approximate midpoint of the trail. I originally proposed to my Oklahoma City-based hiking buddies, now dubbed "The Lost Girls," that we through-hike the entire OHT but work schedules prevailed. We decided to take a week to hike the western half in 2015 and save the rest for later. A Hike on the Ozark Highlands Trail Begins We begin on October 23 and our first stop is the Ozone Trailhead, to leave one of our vehicles at trail's end. After lunch at the Ozone Burger Barn we leave my Subaru Outback a few miles north of Ozone in the parking area off Highway 21. The four of us pile into Pam's Honda Element to return to Fort Smith, and ultimately the trailhead, by way of four water caches. The past few months have been dry in this part of Arkansas and water sources are unreliable east of White Rock Mountain. We spend the day driving dirt roads to trail crossings and stashing 16 gallons of water (one per person per cache). Then we camp at the Hampton Inn in Fort Smith. Nothing like a good night's sleep before a big adventure. The morning of October 24 dawns cool and drizzly and we don rain gear for our 10:30 a.m. departure from Lake Fort Smith's Visitor Center. We begin the hike with a prayer, a habit we will continue each day of our trip. In addition to camping gear and water, we each carry seven days' worth of food. We have a short day today, just over eight miles to Jack Creek, actually a short distance beyond milepost nine. Because of trail re-routing, the actual distances are about a mile less than what the mileposts display. So, somewhere along this first stretch of trail, we actually gain a "bonus mile." Kind of like Daylight Savings Time, I suppose. The mileposts are one of the notable things about the OHT. On the Ouachita Trail, which we have been section hiking over the past few years, mileposts are missing more often than they are present. On the OHT, they are virtually always there. And the blazes – metallic with reflective white paint – are easy to see and ever-present. We pass several old home sites on the shore of Lake Fort Smith and cross a bone-dry Frog Bayou Creek on the lake's north end, arriving at Jack Creek in plenty of time to set up our tents and filter water. There's been a lot of bear spoor along the trail and we take the usual precautions, hanging the bear bag. Hiking the Ozark Highlands Trail: Day 2 The next morning we start earlier, although we are hiking about the same distance we did on the first day. Our destination is White Rock Mountain, a spot known for its spectacular sunsets. It has a lodge, cabins and campsites, running water, and who knows what other amenities. Several weeks ago, I called for reservations in the lodge or cabins and was told they were full, but things could change. As we hike we fantasize about what might await us there. Maybe someone cancelled and a cabin is available! Perhaps there is food – something cooked in a pot on a stove, not rehydrated with water from a JetBoil! And this is only our second day on the trail. It's a hard climb to the top of White Rock and we are disappointed to learn there are no vacancies in the lodge or cabins, but it's okay. We have our choice of camp sites and the campground has a toilet, a water faucet, and picnic tables. Luxury is in the eye of the beholder. Best of all, there is ice cream. At the cottage of the congenial caretaker, we find a freezer full of frozen goodies and a case of cold soda pop and candy bars. I buy an ice cream bar and savor every sweet bite. Firewood is available here too, at 10 sticks for $5. But the caretaker tells me where to find some scraps and says we can have those for free. We retrieve enough for a nice fire and haul it to our camp site, then eat dinner before heading to the pavilion at the summit's edge to watch the sunset. Our timing is perfect. Low golden rays set the mountainside on fire, making the greens, reds, and yellows pop. On the verge of disappearing, the sun outlines the distant ridges and once it sinks below the horizon, lights the ragged pink edges of the gathering clouds. It's a feast for the senses and worth the climb. But the wind is freshening atop the mountain and we head back to camp for a fire and the warmth of our sleeping bags. The Ozark Highlands Trail offers quaint forested hiking, interspersed with ridgetop views. Day 3 on the OHT Day three brings longer miles and two lengthy, steep climbs made more difficult by the warmth of the day. We also encounter a great deal of deadfall, requiring us to go over, under or around huge trees killed by the red oak bore. Three miles of hiking on an abandoned railroad bed provides straight and level relief. It is part of the Combs to Cass spur of a railroad that ran from Fayetteville to St. Paul in the early 1900s. We make it the 13.5 miles to Fanes Creek, where we pick up our first cache and camp. That night around the camp fire, a persistent frog joins us. He is determined to listen as Mary reads from the trail guide, recapping our day and describing what we can expect tomorrow. The frog hops closer and closer to Mary; it seems he likes the sound of her voice. He is unfazed when she shrieks as he hops a bit too close. Of course, we are the invaders and this is his home turf. Still, rather quickly we go to our tents and zip them up securely. None of us wants a frog joining us in our sleeping bag. A Cloudy OHT View Day 4: To Herrods Creek The next day brings our biggest challenge so far. It is day four and our schedule calls for a walk of 15.9 miles to Herrods Creek. It is raining as we get on the trail at daylight. Our first climb, to the top of Whiting Mountain, is long but not too hard. Soon we approach the Highway 23 trailhead and on a narrow, loose stretch of trail Mary, in the lead, slips and falls. She ends up tail over tea kettle on the steep slope below the trail and my first thought is that we're fortunate to be so close to the highway in case we need to get her out for emergency medical care. Thank God, she is unhurt and we continue. Skipping the climb up to the Rock House, an old stone shelter near the trail, we cross Highway 23 and enter the Pleasant Hill Ranger District, marking the beginning of one of the OHT's more scenic sections. The next climb takes us to the summit of Hare Mountain, the highest point on the OHT at about 2,380 feet, and the midpoint of our hike. It's all downhill from here! Well, not quite. After we descend Hare Mountain we pick up our water cache. This one is not at our camp site and we'll have to carry it for three miles. A gallon of water weighs 8.3 pounds and that's a lot of weight to add to a backpack. It's a downhill walk to our camp at Herrods Creek but that doesn't make it easy. Steep, rocky downhills with a heavy pack lead to sore feet. What a relief to reach our camp site after this long day of hiking. We've had a light rain all day and we're tired and wet. No camp fire tonight, we listen from our tents to Mary reading aloud from a seated position in hers. She was ready to get off her feet! Fall scenery on the Ozark Highlands Trail Days 5 and 6 on the OHT Day five is shorter, just 12.5 miles to our camp site at mile 60. It's not raining when we start out, but my tent and boots have not dried out from the day before. Plastic bags over my socks are the solution for the moment, and I hope my boots dry out as I walk. But they don't. At least not today. This part of the trail takes us from one beautiful hollow to the next, places where spectacular waterfalls would stop us in our tracks – if only there were water. And in one of those beautiful places – a ravine filled with large beech trees called the Marinoni Scenic Area, a thunderstorm strikes. We take refuge under a bluff until it calms. When we reach our cache at the Lick Branch Trailhead we find that someone has opened one of our gallons. We hope they really needed a drink, and decide to share the other three gallons. This means less weight to carry and no one minds that. And as it turns out, three gallons is also plenty of water for the four of us. Tonight our camp is in a ravine on the side of Wolf Ridge. Our camp site is small and not very level but we get through the night. Next morning, we walk less than a tenth of a mile before we find a large, level camp site. The next morning begins with fog, which dissipates quickly at our elevation, allowing us to see the mist hanging in the valleys below. Soon we're hiking in sunshine and cool temperatures and today, day six, we have mostly level trail. It is another day of long miles. At first, we had planned to hike 17.7 miles but it became apparent it would be near-impossible for our troupe with the short daylight hours. We decrease the day's hike by two miles and add that distance to our last day. We come across five other hikers on the trail as we walk and we realize it is indeed a perfect day to get out for a hike. Two of the hikers are a couple of girls who have run out of water. We leave them our 4th gallon at the Arbaugh Road Trailhead and fill up our reservoirs with the remaining three. By this time, we are all carrying several empty gallon jugs attached to our backpacks by whatever means possible. It makes for bulky and comical backpacks, to be sure. Our last night of camping is at the second crossing of Lewis Prong Creek and the night is cold, our coldest so far. The End of an Ozark Highlands Trail Journey Day seven...today we will finish! We are on the trail a little earlier than usual, admiring the pink clouds hanging in the pale sky as we start. We have some up-and-down climbing but now our packs are lighter and our spirits buoyant. It's a 10-mile day but that seems like nothing. At one of our snack breaks, a solo hiker comes along. He approaches Pam and says, "I see you're wearing purple. Is this yours?" He holds out a purple bandana which I had lost on the trail the day before, just beyond the Arbaugh Road Trailhead. It has special meaning for me and getting it back is a happy thing! The hiker's name is Mike Wilson and he is a State Park Superintendent at Arkansas' DeGray Lake State Park, hiking the entire trail in nine days. We reach the Ozone Trailhead at 2:30 p.m. There, to my relief, is my Subaru and, it starts. I always have that niggling worry in the back of my mind...what if the car is gone, or doesn't start? As I drive toward the highway, it feels strange to experience movement without effort. We've hiked more than 85 miles under our own power, carrying all of our food, and are thankful at the end for each other, for God's provision of guidance and shelter, for freedom from injury (although we each fell at least once but none as spectacularly as Mary), and good health. The realization came, on this last day or two of hiking, that we couldn't have hiked the miles we did in a week's time if we'd had water crossings to deal with. So the drought was a blessing in that respect. But the beauty we had to rush through made me think – do we really want to through-hike the eastern half of the Ozark Highlands Trail in a hurry? Or can we section hike it and schedule fewer miles per day – do it when there is plenty of water so we can see the waterfalls? We've passed this test of endurance – sore feet on long mileage days; heavy backpacks; eating the same oatmeal and peanut butter and rehydrated rice and beans every day; having no shower for a week; trying to sleep cold and on a slope; being unnerved by coyotes howling nearby. We know we can keep putting one foot in front of the other for many miles. Next time, we might just take it a little slower. Maybe. And for those long nights? I'll figure out something! Ozark Highlands Trail Hiking & Backpacking: Need to Know Information The Ozark Highlands Trail stretches 165 miles from Lake Fort Smith State Park across the Ozark National Forest to the Buffalo National River, then along the Buffalo as Buffalo River/Ozark Highlands Trail, through the Lower Buffalo River Wilderness as a GPS bushwhack route, and thru the Sylamore Ranger District again as hiking trail to near Norfork, Arkansas, 254 miles in all, of which 218 miles are constructed trail and growing, according to the Ozark Highlands Trail Association. Getting There The western terminus of the Ozark Highlands Trail is located at Lake Fort Smith State Park, about 40 miles north of Fort Smith, Arkansas off I-49, Exit 34. Additional trail access is available at more than 65 forest road and highway crossings, plus nine public campgrounds and numerous other trailheads. Camping is allowed anywhere along the trail. No permits or fees are required to hike, build fires, or camp (except in the campgrounds). Cabins are available at White Rock Mountain (479-369-4128). Best Time to Go Late fall, winter and early spring are best for cooler temperatures, minimal undergrowth and insects, fall colors and spring wildflowers, and great views during “leaf-off.” Maps The Ozark Highlands Trail West, the OHT East, and the OHT North maps cover the trail. For trip planning and getting to and from the trailhead the Arkansas Delorme Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful. Books Ozark Highlands Trail Guide by Tim Ernst. About the Author Susan Dragoo is a writer and photographer living in Norman, Oklahoma who would rather be hiking just about any day of the year. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 29 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

Reasoning that I’m not getting any younger, I decided recently that the Grand Canyon was something I needed to do before I no longer could. Such a decision, by its very nature, triggers some urgency. And “doing the Grand Canyon” meant, for me, a rim-to-rim hike. But as I began to navigate Grand Canyon National Park’s backcountry permit system, I realized that actually hiking the hike might not be the hardest part. Obtaining the necessary permit for camping within the canyon on a multi-night backpacking traverse of the gorge seemed at first to be hopelessly challenging. The park has a lottery system for handing out permits and, thanks to much greater demand for campsites than supply, many hopeful hikers face rejection. My first attempt involved an application to camp in the park’s most popular corridor campgrounds in the middle of May and was, not surprisingly, denied. But I learned from a friend that it’s wise to include in one’s application several of the canyon’s less-trafficked areas as itinerary possibilities, and I went about identifying options other than the popular North Kaibab to Bright Angel/South Kaibab route. Moving away from the central corridor, I studied trails located a bit more on the edges. These are more challenging and less maintained, but a few seemed mild enough for a seasoned backpacker who just happened to be trodding the innards of the Grand Canyon for the first time. Among the ones I listed on my application for a September 2021 itinerary was the Hermit Trail, a rim-to-river route in a “threshold” zone, meaning it’s not the hardest, most remote trail in the canyon but it’s fairly rugged. Admittedly, it would lack the cachet of a rim-to-rim route but, lo and behold, it was the one for which I received a permit. What joy ensued when I got the good news in May of 2021. In anticipation of an approval, I had recruited hiking companions on whom I could fully rely: my son, Mark Fields, and his wife, Jessica, and my friends and hiking buddies Mary and Kurt McDaniel. Together we planned the details of our adventure, which would involve a day and a half driving to the Grand Canyon from Oklahoma, a night camping on the South Rim, and two nights in the canyon, at the Hermit Creek campsite, 8.2 miles from the trailhead at Hermit’s Rest. On the second day of our hike, we would make a round trip from our campsite to the Colorado River, another mile and a half each way, and would climb out of the canyon on the third day. A Grand Canyon Hike on the Hermit Trail Begins Every detail sorted out and our bodies conditioned for the effort through an ambitious training program, we arrived at the south rim of the Grand Canyon on September 19, 2021 for a night at the Mather Campground. This experience turned out to be surprisingly pleasant and uncrowded, thanks no doubt to the weekday, late September timing. On the eve of our big adventure, however, I wondered…would this be an ordeal I was happy to get behind me, or an experience I would want to repeat? The next morning, we were on the trail just before sunrise. The descent was expected to take about five hours, so we hoped to reach our campsite before the heat of the day. Each of us was carrying an extra two liters of water to cache on the way down, so our average pack weights were around 33 pounds at the start. We looked forward to dropping off the extra poundage somewhere between Lookout Point and the Cathedral Stairs. The Hermit Trail was built in 1911-1912 by the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway to bring tourists into the canyon. The path was named for Louis Boucher, a French-Canadian prospector who lived alone in the area. The railroad also built Hermit Camp near Hermit Creek on the Tonto Platform, allowing visitors to stay overnight in the canyon. Many of the original paving stones remain on the steep upper reaches of the trail, which comprise the most difficult section. While we anticipated it would be challenging to climb out of the canyon, we were surprised at how taxing it was to descend. Picking our way down the trail, we relied heavily on our trekking poles for support and stability. Soon a woman passed us, practically running down the rocky path. Before reaching the bottom we met her as she returned, explaining she had gone to the top of Cathedral Stairs to retrieve a backpack someone had abandoned. It was clearly not her first rodeo, and we admired her strength and agility. From the trailhead, at an elevation of 6,640 feet, we dropped about 1,200 feet over 1.5 miles, encountering the junction with the Waldron Trail at 5,400 feet. In another quarter mile, we intersected the Dripping Spring/Boucher Trail. Two and a quarter miles down, Santa Maria Spring offered a welcome break, with its tiny oasis and rest house sheltered by an ancient grapevine. Our legs were trembling, unaccustomed to the down climbing and having descended nearly 2,000 feet. Thankfully, since the first miles of the Hermit Trail hug the eastern wall of the canyon we hiked in shade for several hours, falling into a rhythm with Mark as our hike leader. About four miles from the start, we reached Lookout Point and cached our water amid some brush, and hoped it would remain there undisturbed for the return trip two days later. Thankful to be rid of the extra weight, we continued at a steady pace. Just before the Cathedral Stairs, a steep drop through a narrow chute within a turret-like formation, we lunched in the shade of an overhang. It was starting to get warm by this time, but the temperature felt mild by Grand Canyon standards, though none of us had a thermometer. Once below the Cathedral Stairs, the trail looked easier and was indeed less vertical, but our depleted quadriceps felt every inch of what we named the Eternal Switchbacks of Hell. Finally, we reached the Tonto Platform and, at seven miles, the intersection with the lengthy east-west Tonto Trail. There the path leveled off, providing welcome relief. Soon we dropped into the Hermit Creek campsite, 8.2 miles and, at 2,900 feet, 3,740 feet from the top. We didn’t know it at the time, but the hardest part was over. Grand Canyon Backpacking Campsite Hermit Creek Campsite & Hermit Rapids It was about 1 p.m. when we arrived in camp, having taken six and a half hours to descend. Deep in the canyon, it was getting warm. Most of the day, there was shade in Hermit Creek Canyon, but mid- to late afternoon, when the sun was directly overhead, it was hard to escape. A few steps below the campground, however, Hermit Creek offered cold, fast-flowing water, a good source for filtering, and the bonus of a small waterfall and pool for soaking. In the heat of the day, it was just the thing. We had the entire campground to ourselves at this point and whiled away the afternoon. About 4 p.m. the sun dropped behind the canyon wall and the air began to cool. As the hours of darkness approached, boredom began to creep into our technology-attuned brains. We had all been together for several days by this time, and none of us had brought a book or a deck of cards, since our goal was to carry as little weight as possible. Yes, we had electronic devices but their batteries were in preservation mode. We did, however, have something to celebrate that evening, Jessica’s birthday. Mary had brought a birthday card and my contribution was a Blueberry Crunch Clif Bar and candle. We sang happy birthday to Jessica as daylight waned, deep in the shadows of the Grand Canyon. Three other groups eventually showed up at the campground, one of them after dark. My sleep was fitful, ultralight backpacking not being the most comfortable sort, and the long hours of darkness with no entertainment made it something of an ordeal. At Jessica’s insistence, we made ourselves stay up until 8 p.m., hoping to avoid waking up at midnight thinking it was time to get up. The nighttime temperature was comfortable, almost too warm for my very light sleeping bag, but not quite. We awoke the next day ready to be moving again, planning to hike down Hermit Creek to Hermit Rapids on the Colorado River. The other campers had left and again we had the campground to ourselves. As we began the mile-and-a-half hike, we were delighted with the beauty of the narrow gorge, walking sometimes at creek level and sometimes above, sometimes back and forth across the narrow stream. Then we emerged onto the sandy beach of Hermit Rapids on the mighty Colorado. Seeing it up close was momentous and required that everyone take a dip, just to say we’d done it. A Final Evening and the Hike Out Hiking back to the campground was equally glorious and the rest of the afternoon was whiled away in the same manner as before, this time punctuating the day with a birthday party for Mark, whose special day followed Jessica’s by only one, and a be-candled Peanut Butter Banana Clif Bar as a backpacking substitute for a birthday cake. Again, we forced ourselves to stay up until 8 p.m. but I was awake the next morning before 4 a.m., managing to stay in bed until close to 4:30, by which time I thought the noise of my rustling around and unzipping things was justified. We were on the trail about 6 a.m., the Eternal Switchbacks of Hell feeling much less hellish going up. Soon we were past the Cathedral Stairs and would reach our cache in short order. At Lookout Point we found our water supply intact, and were glad to have it. By this time we were hiking in full sun and found the fluid useful not only for hydration but also for pouring over our bodies to cool down for the remainder of the hike. Another mile and a half or so found us back at Santa Maria Spring with the steepest part of the trail ahead. After lunch in the rest house, we continued on at a steady pace. It was slow going but not as hard as the descent. Soon the top was in sight and I heard Mark and Jessica, who were in the lead, exclaim that they’d reached it. A few yards behind them, I realized I was ready to end the climb, but not the experience. What a thrill to be back at the trailhead with my family and friends. It was not just an accomplishment, but something I am eager to repeat. Being deep in the canyon was like being on another planet, separate from all the noise and hubbub and strife of the outer world. Its beauty was mesmerizing and its draw magnetic. As a result, I’ve become fixated on the Grand Canyon and have two trips scheduled for the future…depending, of course, on the success of my permit applications. Hiking the Hermit Trail: Need to Know Information The Grand Canyon, located in northern Arizona, is considered one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Grand Canyon National Park occupies 1.2 million acres and nearly 2,000 square miles and was established as a national monument in 1908 by President Theodore Roosevelt, then designated a national park in 1919.The Colorado River runs 277 miles through the great gorge, which averages 10 miles in width and one mile in depth. The park averages 6 million visitors a year and was the second most visited national park in 2019. Camping in the inner canyon is controlled by a backcountry permit system. Find more information on obtaining a backcountry permit here. See TrailGroove's Grand Canyon Hiking and Backpacking Logistics article for more on trip planning in the Grand Canyon. Best Time to Go For inner canyon hiking, it's usually suggested that the summer months be avoided because of very high temperatures. Spring and fall are typically good times to go, although between October 15 and May 15 the North Rim is closed, so the canyon must be accessed via the South Rim during that time. Getting There From Flagstaff, Arizona, take Interstate 40 west to Exit 165, AZ-64 N, in Williams. Take AZ-64 north about 55 miles to Grand Canyon Village. The trailhead is located at Hermit’s Rest, at the end of Hermit’s Road, which is accessed from Grand Canyon Village. Access to Hermit’s Road is restricted from March 1 through November 30 but backpackers with a valid backcountry permit for the Hermit or Boucher Trails are allowed access during this time. Drive eight miles west along Hermit Road to Hermit’s Rest then continue on the dirt road one-quarter mile to the trailhead. From December 1st through the end of February the Hermit Road is open to all traffic. Books and Maps Hiking Grand Canyon National Park by Ron Adkison, National Geographic Trails Illustrated Map, Grand Canyon North and South Rims. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 52 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

It’s a land of seemingly infinite slickrock and canyons, anchored by the Escalante River and its tributaries. The landscape’s intense colors are dominated by red and ivory sandstone and accented by brilliant green cottonwoods and willows along the waterways. In the deep slot canyons, the reds take on shades unimagined…maroon, purple, and indigo. Easy it’s not. Exceptional, it is, and worth every ounce of effort for the experience. Within the massive Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument of southern Utah, the canyons of the Escalante region offer endless opportunities for hiking, with plenty of tantalizing slot canyons to entice the adventurer. On a recent trip to the area I met my hiking buddy, Joan Whitacre, for a stay in the town of Escalante and three days of exploring the canyons. She had traveled from Idaho and I had come up from Oklahoma; we intended to make the most of our time in southern Utah and planned three hikes, Neon Canyon/Golden Cathedral, Lower Calf Creek Falls, and Spooky Gulch. Escalante Hiking: Golden Cathedral & Neon Canyon It is mid-September and the weather is warm. We get a late start our first day, arriving at the Golden Cathedral Trailhead a little before noon. Getting there is an adventure in and of itself, traveling 16.3 miles from Utah Highway 12 on the legendary Hole-in-the-Rock Road before turning off onto Egypt Bench Road. Hole-in-the-Rock is named after the actual “hole” in the rock, a crevice in the western rim of Glen Canyon which Mormon pioneers laboriously expanded, building a road 2,000 feet down the side of the cliff to the Colorado River. On a “dugway” with an average grade of 25 degrees (and in some places as steep as 45 degrees), they lowered 250 people, 83 wagons, and more than 1,000 head of livestock on their journey to establish a new colony on the San Juan River. The actual Hole in the Rock is still there, 55 miles down this road, but we are not going there today. Once reaching Egypt Bench Road, we travel about 10 miles to the Egypt Trailhead. The dirt road is washboarded and it’s a teeth-chattering ride to the trailhead. There we scramble over the lip of a ridge for a long walk down the slickrock to the Escalante River. The day is heating up as we look back at the long, steep ascent we will face on our return. The Hike to Neon Canyon As we approach the river we appreciate the shade offered by the riparian vegetation, and after 2.8 miles, the trail actually enters the shallow, brown-yellow waters of the Escalante River. The stream cools our feet as we cross, boots on. At this point, the trail becomes very difficult to follow, winding in and out of the river and through jungles of willow and salt cedar growing along the muddy banks. Eventually we decide simply to use the river as our trail. Its waters are only ankle-deep and our path takes us downstream. At mile 3.7 we reach the turn-off for Neon Canyon, marked by a huge cottonwood tree. The canyon’s colors range from pink to ochre, bright greens of trees and grasses illuminated by the afternoon sun. From the turn-off it is an easy 0.9-mile walk on a well-trod, sandy path to our destination, Golden Cathedral. What a sight with the sun’s rays entering the skylights of the massive cavern. In the floor of the alcove the pool of water is golden, its surface reflecting the sunlight. Two people are there ahead of us, sitting on the sandy floor, contemplating the amazing scene. It’s definitely a place that invites a pause for quiet contemplation. The waters of the pool are tempting but I am reluctant to disturb them by stepping in. Ferns grace the moist, red stone walls and the filigree of lichen suggests manmade pictographs. It’s easy to see how this place got its name, as its high-ceilinged structure calls to mind soaring gothic cathedrals and their homage to the almighty. Eventually we turn back and decide to simplify our return by using the Escalante River as our trail. We now travel upstream, but in the shallow waters it’s only a little more effort. And, being in the water helps us stay cooler. Without incident we make it back to the spot where we first entered the river and take a dunk to soak our clothes before beginning the 1,260-foot ascent in the heat of the day. It is a grueling climb, especially in its steep final stages. The trail is dim and we get off trail. The line we end up on is likely steeper than the actual trail; nevertheless, we can see the lip of the ridge and keep moving toward it. It is a great relief when we pull ourselves over the edge onto the plateau, get in the car and turn on the air conditioner after this challenging, nearly 10-mile hike. Lower Calf Creek Falls Hike A rest day is in order on day two, and a hike to Lower Calf Creek Falls is an easy option. Unlike the isolated Golden Cathedral Trail, this one is busy with all manner of folks. From Escalante, we drive 15 miles north on Highway 12 to the Calf Creek Recreation Area and the trailhead. Much of the six-mile round trip through Lower Calf Creek Canyon is shady and offers interesting sights such as an ancient granary on a distant cliffside, with signposts so you know what you are seeing. Along the Lower Calf Creek Falls Trail The falls themselves are spectacular but the crowds of people picnicking and playing in the pool at the base of the falls make it seem more like a city park than a backcountry hike. Still, it is just the right level of activity after the Golden Cathedral effort. Hiking Spooky Gulch Our third day of hiking is the one I am most excited about. We are heading down Hole-in-the-Rock Road yet again, to Peekaboo and Spooky Gulches, two well-known and relatively easy to reach slot canyons. This time we drive 26 miles down Hole-in-the Rock Road from Highway 12, then another 1.7 miles to the trailhead. The hike involves another descent over slick rock, but this time only for a short distance. We have gotten an earlier start today and are slightly ahead of the heat. We decide to trek around Peekaboo to the upper end of Spooky Gulch and descend from the top of Spooky. We start at a sandy wash which narrows, leading to a rock jam. We stop, stymied about how to negotiate it. Soon we hear voices ahead, and two young women climb up through an opening in the boulder field. One is a skilled canyoneer, and she helps the other to ascend the six-foot climb. When we talk with her, she realizes we are going to struggle, and offers to help us down. We don’t hesitate to accept her offer and she climbs back down to the canyon floor, coaching each of us on the descent. An angel of mercy, we decide. The canyon continues to narrow, its passages serpentine and eerie. In places the floor is so narrow that chimneying is required. Daypacks have to be taken off and carried in order to squeeze through, scraping chests and backs against the sandstone, which has a strange, knobby texture in spots. In the darkest, twistiest sections, the sandstone takes on hues of purple. It’s exhilarating. I am disappointed when the slot begins to widen and we reach the end. We leave Peekaboo for another day, although the usual progression for these two slots is to hike up through Peekaboo and down through Spooky. As we drive back to Escalante, I notice cars parked at other trailheads on Hole-in-the-Rock Road, and feel a twinge of regret that we’re not staying longer for more hiking in the Escalante. But Escalante will be here, and I will be back. Hiking Utah's Escalante: Need to Know Information The Canyons of the Escalante area is one of three regions of the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument (GSENM), one million acres of protected land in southern Utah administered by the U.S. Bureau of Land Management. The erosional landforms of the region include high vertical canyon walls, slot canyons, waterpockets, domes, hoodoos, natural arches and bridges. The other two components of the GSENM include the Grand Staircase and the Kaiparowits Plateau. Best Time to Go Fall and spring are the best times to go; ideally, mid-March through April and mid-September through October. The heat of summer can make for difficult hiking. Rainy weather can cause flash flooding in slot canyons. Getting There Boulder and Escalante, Utah are the closest towns to hiking in the Escalante region. Both offer lodging and dining options, Escalante more so than Boulder. The closest major airports are Las Vegas, Nevada and Salt Lake City, Utah. Maps and Books WOW Guides: Utah Canyon Country, Kathy & Craig Copeland, Hiking the Escalante by Rudi Lambrechtse. The Trails Illustrated Canyons of the Escalante Map by National Geographic covers much of the area. For getting to and from trailheads, the Utah Delorme Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 41 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

I love the wide open spaces and views of the American West. So, I arranged for another westward trek, this time to southern Nevada. My sister Melissa and I drove her Toyota 4Runner, an excellent vehicle for the narrow, rough roads on which we would be driving. We planned on going to the Buffington Pockets area, Gold Butte National Monument, both northeast of Las Vegas, and the Vermilion Cliffs in northern Arizona (the subject for another story). We added, on the fly, a visit to Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument, just across the border in northwestern Arizona. All of these locations are far from the often-crowded national parks, and far, far from the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas – my kind of places! A Desert Hiking Adventure Begins Our first stop was Buffington Pockets, which is a rugged and isolated area not too far off of Interstate 15 north of Las Vegas. Our first goal here was the historic Colorock Quarry. The roads to Colorock Quarry start out as graded gravel roads, which split to go to Valley of Fire State Park (which I had previously visited) and toward the quarry. The further you go the more the roads deteriorate into narrow one-lane tracks which require a high clearance 4-wheel drive vehicle, especially the very last part nearest the quarry. We climbed around this colorful and scenic area for a while, getting up high for good views. Once we finished here, we drove on toward Hidden Valley on the Bitter Springs Backcountry Byway, where we wanted to hike to an arch called Striped Arch, but we found that the road ended at a wilderness boundary a few miles from the arch. We didn’t have enough time before sunset to make it to the arch and back, so we gave up on that hike and drove back a ways along the byway and found an excellent camping site just off the road next to some colorful rocks with arches. Camping in this area is not at established campgrounds (there are none), but you can find many places just off the road to camp. Gold Butte National Monument The next morning, we headed back to the interstate and then northeastward toward Mesquite NV, and then south on Gold Butte Byway into Gold Butte National Monument (nearly 300,000 acres on the east side of Lake Mead). Melissa was driving, and at one point she applied the brakes, and I was asking “WHAT?! WHAT?!” She had seen a Gila monster crossing the road, and of course we stopped for photographs. Further down the road, we stopped at an area with an exceptional number of cacti and wildflowers (more pictures) and then continued on to Whitney Pocket. This is an area of outcrops of red and white Aztec Sandstone surrounded by desert vegetation, including many Joshua Trees. This area had several spots for camping, and had the largest number of people that we encountered on the entire trip. We wandered around the rocky outcrops for a while, and then continued our sightseeing tour. Our next stop, and it was a brief one, was at the Devil’s Throat, a large sinkhole surrounded by a chain link fence. Not much to see there, so we drove on to our next destination, The Grotto. Before we hiked we had sandwiches for lunch, and then took the short hike (a little over one-half mile round-trip) into the area. There were some interesting outcrops and a few petroglyphs here, but we didn’t spend a lot of time before moving on. Our next stop was at Seven Keyholes Slot Canyon. After another short hike (about one-half mile to the canyon), we arrived at the canyon, which has odd-shaped openings, almost round at the bottom with a slot at the top. There are several of these sections with open sections in between. After seeing the canyon, we explored the area a bit more, seeing lots and lots of “holey” rocks, small caves, and arches. We probably hiked an additional mile or more exploring the nearby canyons (and there was a lot more that we could have gone to see). We next headed toward a place that’s been on my “must see” list for a long time – Little Finland or Hobgoblin’s Playground. Getting there again consisted of driving miles of sandy, rocky roads. The ridge along which Little Finland is located is about fifty feet or so above a large relatively flat area. Along the base of the cliffs there are a number of large California Fan palm trees (not something we expected to see in the desert). Once we found our way up onto the ridge, we were surrounded by some of the strangest rocks I’ve ever seen, eroded mostly by the wind into intricate shapes, some resembling animals or monsters. It was a difficult place to take photos, as there was so much distracting background that it was hard to isolate individual pieces of the scene. Somehow, however, I managed to take dozens of photos, including a few “keepers”. The hike at Little Finland was around a mile in length, although you could probably hike back and forth and make it considerably longer. We ended up hiking over 5 ½ miles on the hikes of this day, after which we drove until we found a good campsite off of Mud Wash Road. There were supposedly petroglyphs somewhere around there, but we never found them. Looked for shooting stars (it was one of the Lyrid meteor shower nights) until bedtime. We didn’t see any. Our next day began with a drive to another trailhead. This meandering "trail" was up and down over the outcrops of stone, for a total of a little over a mile and took us to the area known for the Falling Man petroglyph. There are an impressive number of other petroglyphs on the cliffs in this area too. There were even a couple of potholes (or tinajas) with water and tadpoles. We hiked around, following a bunch of GPS waypoints that I had pre-loaded on my phone and found Falling Man (there must be an interesting story here) and most of the other petroglyphs. There is an amazing variety of these scattered throughout the area, including some that were in what I would consider pretty precarious spots high on the cliffs. Those ancients were skilled climbers (except for perhaps that poor falling man). After finishing at Falling Man, we drove on down the road to our next trail, this one to take us to the 21 Goats Petroglyph Panel. This was an interesting hike (about two miles round-trip) in that it was a bearpoppy restoration area. The sign explained the ecology of the poppies and that they grow in a limited area and only on gypsum soil. We spotted a few along the hike and even found one near enough to the trail that we were able to get a couple of pictures. On to the petroglyphs – this was a really cool panel. I stepped off the width at over 35 feet, and it was probably at least 12 feet above the ground to the top. The name is somewhat misleading, as I counted about 38 “goats” (actually desert bighorn sheep). We took our photographs and headed back to the truck. Next we drove to the trailhead for the Khota Circus (also spelled Kohta) Petroglyphs. This was a longer hike (around 3.6 miles round-trip) which went through different environments – some with sand (tough walking), and other places through washes and rocky outcrops. There was also quite a variety of wildflowers along the way. The Khota Circus is about 80 feet long by 6 feet high at the base of a tall cliff. It’s mostly animals (thus the name) – many goats, some turtles, birds, snakes, and a few humans. One of the humans is obviously a hunter shooting at a goat. Apparently, we missed another smaller but better preserved panel high on a nearby cliff. We researched a bit once we returned to civilization, and found that the petroglyphs range in age from 700 to 3000 years old and were created by Anasazi or Southern Paiutes. There is a small slot canyon near the petroglyphs, but it isn't very long or interesting. Over the previous two days, we had seen very few people on the trails. Gold Butte only receives just over 100,000 visitors a year, most at Whitney Pocket, which is at the end of a semi-paved road, and at Little Finland. The rest of the time, we were on narrow, rough roads where only the hardiest souls (like us) go! Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument We were a bit ahead of schedule, so Melissa suggested that we go east to visit part of Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument (another huge park of more than a million acres that gets fewer than 100,000 visitors a year). It is even more remote and rugged than the areas that we had been in the previous days. There are no developed facilities, and most of the roads require high clearance and sometimes four-wheel drive vehicles. As we left Whitney Pocket, we came upon a field which was filled with a “superbloom” of Las Vegas poppies. We drove throughout the northern part of the monument, and noticed what looked like redbuds here and there. That was totally unexpected, considering the desert climate, but it turns out that they were California redbuds, which are indeed native to the area. We drove until we found a place to camp along the road. We broke camp the next morning and headed toward the Paiute Wilderness for a hike, and as it turns out, the only hike we took in this vast park. The road to the trailhead was a crazy, narrow, up and down thing, but our expert driver (Melissa) handled it with ease. The trail didn’t have great scenery, but it was nice, and there were many wildflowers along the route. After leaving this area, we headed via several rough roads to Tweed’s Overlook, giving us a great overview of the northern section of the park. We talked to a couple of guys up there who told us about a drive called “Nutter’s Twist” – supposedly a tough, rough road. Of course, we wanted to drive it. It was indeed rough, with a couple of really difficult wash crossings with steep, high banks. The only victim of the crossings, other than our nerves, was one running board that got bent on one of the boulders while crossing one of the deeper washes. There are several hiking routes ranging from one mile to over eleven miles within the park, but we will have to return another time for some of those. Final Thoughts If you enjoy the desert, and you want an off-the-beaten track adventure, head to Buffington Pockets, Gold Butte National Monument, and Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument. Here, you will experience isolation and extreme quiet, get away from civilization, and see scenery that few people get to enjoy. Need to Know Information No permits are needed for any of the areas discussed above. There are no established campgrounds or facilities and there is no way to resupply provisions, supplies, or food / water. We double checked tires and carried a spare. Getting There Colorock Quarry in Buffington Pockets is accessed by exiting I-15 at exit 75, toward Valley of Fire State Park and the Bitter Springs Backcountry Byway. After just over three miles, the byway continues straight, and the road to Valley of Fire goes off to the left. Continue for about four miles, then turn right at the Colorock Quarry sign. From there it is about 3.5 miles to the quarry. (If you have time while in the area, be sure to visit Valley of Fire State Park. It's spectacular!) Gold Butte National Monument is south of Interstate 15 and east of Lake Mead. Leave the interstate at Exit 112 onto Nevada 170 for 3.1 miles, then turn right onto Gold Butte Backcountry Byway. The road is semi-paved to Whitney Pocket, which is about 25 miles from the interstate. Beyond that point, a high-clearance four-wheel drive vehicle is needed. Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument can be accessed several ways. From Gold Butte National Monument (Whitney Pocket area), go east on Pakoon Spring Road to road #101 or 111. From St. George UT, go south on either road #1009 or 1069. From Highway 389 between Pipe Spring National Monument and Fredonia UT, go south on Antelope Valley Road toward Tuweep, then turn west into GC-PNM. Once you are in the monument, choose your own adventure. Best Time to Go Spring and fall would be ideal. Summer will be very hot, while winter weather will be quite variable. Maps and Books The Arizona Strip Visitor Map shows recreational information for the Arizona Strip Field Office, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument, Vermilion Cliffs National Monument, and surrounding areas (Grand Canyon, North Kaibab National Forest, etc). There is a good map of Gold Butte and part of Grand Canyon-Parashant on a kiosk in a parking area near Whitney Pocket. I took several photos of sections of this map (it has road numbers on it which were very useful). The Delorme Nevada Atlas and their Arizona Atlas can be helpful for getting to these areas. For information on other hiking opportunities close by, see the Hiking Nevada as well as the Hiking Arizona Falcon Guides. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 57 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

I see that as a possibility that no cook options could reduce water carried for dry camping provided that there is still plenty along to stay hydrated etc. For example in a situation where enough water is already packed for all other needs, extra water would not have to be carried on top of that just for cooking to rehydrate a meal or to simmer noodles, although one could make use of that water for hydration as well.

Paul, I see you saying, "less water is needed when dry camping," above. Why would one need *less* water when dry camping? Wouldn't water needs be essentially the same whether you're close to a water source or far away? I would think hygiene, drinking, etc. would require the same amount, no? Regards, HJ

A backpacking sleeping pad very importantly provides warmth by insulating us from the cold ground at night, and ideally a sleeping pad will also provide sufficient comfort to allow for a good night of rest. As an item that’s one of the heaviest and bulkiest core gear items you will carry on any backpacking trip, the sleeping pad requires some thought and consideration when it comes to selection and application. With a multitude of options available there's a sleeping pad to specifically suit any season and backpacking trip, as well as those that offer a wide range of versatility across many situations. In this article we'll look at things to consider and features of some of the best sleeping pads on the market today. When considering a backpacking sleeping pad, weight, warmth, comfort, and durability should all be considered. Backpacking Sleeping Pad R-Value & Warmth The most important function a sleeping pad serves is to keep you warm; although we all like to be comfortable we can’t be comfortable if we’re cold. Thus, consider a sleeping pad’s r-value when making a choice. However, there’s no free lunch; the warmer the pad the heavier and bulkier it will be. As such we have to seek a balance just like anything else. For general 3-season use here in the Rockies where it always gets a bit chilly at night, I target a sleeping pad with an r-value of at least 3. Combined with an appropriate sleeping bag for the forecasted lows of course, I’ve found this to provide sufficient warmth into the higher 20’s. When it will be colder, I combine this pad with the thinnest (1/4" or less) and lightest generic closed cell foam pad I can find particularly of the Evazote foam variety that can easily be cut down to a custom size or folded over to double up if needed. Options like the ULA Siesta pad or this option on Amazon, and foam pads sometimes carried by many cottage makers / vendors also work well. Essentially, you are looking for a thin 1/8" to 1/4" foam pad that will cover you width wise (depends on your main pad width of choice), and at least offer torso length coverage or more. This system will keep me comfortably warm to the high teens. If it will be colder than that I will combine my usual sleeping pad with a thick foam pad of nearly an equal r-value. As an example, the Exped Synmat UL7 – find our full review here – which is my choice for an inflatable pad – combined with something like the Z Lite Sol foam pad and the aforementioned thin foam pad will provide a total r-value approaching 6. A combo like this has kept me warm on winter trips well below 0. On this trip with a low for the night well below 0, I packed both this RidgeRest Solar plus an insulated inflatable. Some inflatable pads like the Exped Ultra 1R feature no insulation at all (r-value around 1) and basically provide mostly comfort from the ground, but not cold ground. These pads are lighter and cheaper, and might be useful for a dedicated summer sleeping pad in warm locales. On the flipside some winter sleeping pads, such as the Exped Dura 8R or the NeoAir X-Therm NXT MAX, are heavily insulated and would be sufficiently warm all on their own for cold winter camping and for cold sleepers. On both sides of the coin though each are on the specialized end of the spectrum; I prefer the adaptable approach of using one 3-season rated pad, and then adding in a thin, or thicker foam pad when needed for colder temperatures. For the 3-season pad I like an inflatable to provide the comfort and some baseline level of insulation, and when combined with the additional foam pad the foam pad protects the inflatable and will even serve as a fail-safe should the inflatable spring a leak. As a general starting guide an r-value of 2+ has been useful for me on summer trips in the mountains and for 3-season use in warmer locations; warm into the 30 degree range. I find an r-value of 3+ most useful all-around, providing sufficient warmth for most 3-season trips in the mountains and down to the 20 degree range. However if you're a cold sleeper or sleep warm, you can implement some respective addition or subtraction here. For winter trips I do not mess around and take a combination of pads totaling a 5-6+ r-value. Pads that feature an r-value under 2 I find useful only as part of a larger system (as a solution to boost warmth as part of an overall sleep system), but not on their own. Sleeping Pad Size Sleeping pads are usually offered in multiple lengths and depending on your height and use, an appropriate fit can be found. If you’re going with an ultralight approach a shorter pad can work that offers coverage for the most important part of your body – your torso and core, but your feet and legs will hang off the end. To insulate this area you can pile gear and your backpack – that might just have an insulating foam backpanel – at the bottom of the shorter sleeping pad. This will save the most weight, but still will not be as warm or as comfortable as a longer pad. My preference is to use a pad that’s at least close to my height. A few inches shorter is fine as we often sleep a bit shorter than our height with knees and back bent, etc., or longer than your height offers the most luxury. Either way, by getting your whole body on the pad you will sleep warmer. The standard width for most sleeping pads is 20 inches. Often a wide version (not really standardized, but usually 25”) is also offered and even up to double wide pads for two like the Exped Ultra 3R Duo sleeping pad are offered. Two one-person pads can always be strapped together – Sea to Summit makes the best solution for this I’ve used. Preference will of course depend on your size and sleeping style. A 20” pad works for me, but there’s not much wiggle room and I do sleep better on a wider pad that offers more room to bend your knees for side sleepers or for toss and turners. Many tents are based around this 20” width standard, so be sure your pad will fit in your shelter of choice and combined with whatever width pad your partner may have if you’re sharing a tent. Either way longer and wider pads offer more comfort but at the cost of an increase in weight and bulk. I’ve accumulated several sizes over the years, so on trips where I’ll be covering a lot of miles I take a standard 6’ pad; on more relaxed trips I like the comfort my Synmat LW (Long/Wide) offers. No matter the size, you will find sleeping pads available in both a traditional rectangular shape as well as in tapering, mummy shapes that narrow towards the feet. While tapered pads offer some weight savings, a rectangular sleeping pad offers more room. The lower section of a mummy-shaped sleeping pad. Weight is saved, but there's not as much toss and turn room. Weight A great target for an adequately warm and comfortable full length standard 3-season sleeping pad for most locations is around 1lb with the weight falling below that as we get into shorter and/or less warm pads, and above that as we get into longer, wider, and warmer pads. Save for a dedicated winter pad, approaching the 2lb mark is best reserved for sleeping pads in more of the super comfortable and warm, but heavy and bulky car camping variety. If you'll be focusing on car camping, weight shouldn't be a concern. The best car camping sleeping pads will be those that are warm, comfortable, and durable. That said, back to the trail... Closed Cell Foam Pads The simplest and cheapest option to go with is a closed cell foam sleeping pad. I’m much more comfortable on an inflatable pad, but as previously described, I still have an assortment of closed cell foam pads in my gear stash to combine with an inflatable pad for additional warmth on shoulder season and winter trips with my 3-season rated Exped Synmat UL7. However, the foam pad excels in the reliability department – it won’t leak and you don’t have to carry a patch kit. They are also usually cheaper. The downside is they pack bulky and you will probably have to carry it on the outside of your backpack. This can be a pro though, as the pad will be easily accessible to use as a sit pad on breaks and for lunch. Foam pads are usually just around an inch thick or a bit less, and then compress further when you’re on it. You will definitely feel the ground and any rocks or roots that might occupy your campsite, but if the comfort works for you the foam pad is a reliable and affordable choice. Note that you will want to avoid open cell foam pads, as they will absorb water and when they do they take a long time to dry. Reserve these for use on the futon at home. Foam pads are bulky to carry, but convenient for breaks. Most foam pads can be had for under $50. Some popular options include such venerable choices as the generic blue foam pad, the Therm-a-Rest RidgeRest (a classic), and the more conveniently packed Z Lite pad. And in recent years, you can now find that classic foam pads from Therm-a-Rest have been updated with an aluminized reflective (warmer) coating as seen in the Z Lite Sol pad for a small boost in warmth and durability. Overall a foam sleeping pad will above all be dependable, but not the most comfortable or easy to carry. Inflatable Backpacking Pads Inflatable sleeping pads offer a few advantages and disadvantages compared to their closed cell foam cousins. Usually thicker than foam pads when inflated, an air pad can keep you totally off the ground and the inflation level can be adjusted to suit your own comfort preference. Thinner inflatables are better for back sleepers and the thicker variety better for side sleepers. If you toss and turn, look for a design that is raised around the sides a bit to help center you on the pad and keep you from falling off in the night. Inflatable pads also pack smaller, usually around the size of a Nalgene and even a long / wide inflatable will easily fit inside a backpack. Most air pads usually feature baffles arranged in a horizontal, vertical, or sometimes in a pod like arrangement like the Sea to Summit Ultralight – one of our tested sleeping pads we’ve previously reviewed. Preference varies; I like the lengthwise tubes that I find help me stay centered on the pad. Self-inflating pads usually have a flatter sleeping surface. The downside of inflatable pads is that they can be punctured, baffles can fail, you have to inflate it, and to be sufficiently warm inflatable pads will use insulation or special baffles that bump up the price. When I carry an inflatable, I also bring a patch kit along just in case, and use care where I put the pad. For inflation I prefer to not use my breath, not only can this be a little difficult at high altitudes after a long day, but it introduces moisture. Many manufacturers offer a pump bag solution – like the Exped Scnhozzel I use, and battery operated pumps are even available. The standard of inflatables a couple decades ago, some are still self-inflating, but the self-inflating pad has become rarer in recent times. Keeping air pads protected and inside your tent is ideal. Many people may also take a smaller foam pad to use as a dedicated sit pad in this situation. The texture of sleeping pad surfaces vary, and some inflatable pads can be a bit noisy and some can also have slick surfaces that can migrate around the tent, or have you migrating on top of them at night. Some strategic dots of Seam Grip SIL on your (especially if it’s silnylon) tent floor can help mitigate the slipping, and if you combine an inflatable with a foam pad of any type as I often do in colder weather it will mitigate this issue. For an inflatable lightweight insulated sleeping pad, you are probably looking at something in the $100-$200 range. Popular inflatable pads can be found in the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir series (view at REI) that utilize a combination of baffling and aluminized reflective features to provide warmth, options from Sea to Summit that use microfiber insulation, and many options of various insulation types exist from makers like Big Agnes and Nemo Equipment. The best backpacking sleeping pads will feature a blend of warmth, weight, packed size, and durability. If you choose the most extreme of any category, it will likely be at the cost of something else. Backpacking Sleeping Pads: My System Just like sleeping bags, selecting a backpacking sleeping pad is without a doubt, a huge balance between weight, comfort, price, reliability, and warmth – and while there’s no best sleeping pad and no free lunch, with so many options out there there’s no doubt the right sleeping pad that suits your style can be found. As a side sleeper who values all the above points fairly equally and has been testing sleeping pads for decades, I like a comfortable 3-season inflatable pad as the main cog in my sleeping pad system, and add in a thin foam pad for just a touch of additional warmth when it's needed and a thicker foam pad for winter conditions. For a full selection of lightweight sleeping pads that you can then narrow down by type, price, size, etc. take a look here at REI.com.

One of the big 3 of backpacking gear choices (backpack, tent or shelter, and sleeping bag), the backpacking backpack you choose will have a profound impact on your comfort during the hiking day. Your pack will also be one of the more expensive items you’ll purchase, and to get the best pack within your budget a little research will be needed as there are a myriad of packs out there on the market. In this guide, we’ll look at the best backpacking packs currently on the market based upon anticipated pack weight and packing category (ultralight, lightweight, heavy weight) along with some budget options as well. For the purposes of this guide, we’ll focus on performance, availability, reasonable price, and reasonable longevity for the intended purpose. Best Ultralight Backpacking Backpacks If you’re a weekend or overnight backpacker and / or manage to keep your total pack weight at around 25lbs or less, more ultralight backpacking packs may be worth a look. That said, if you do plan on going over this weight from time to time, and prefer a quiver of one, the next section in this article may be more appropriate to evaluate. For ultralight loads however, the frameless ULA Photon (35L total, 26 ounces, $220) from Ultralight Adventure Equipment is not the lightest pack out there, but is tough and has excellent comfort at these weights along with a livable pocket configuration. For a bit of a space and a carrying ability upgrade, look at the ULA Ohm (63L, 34 ounces, $280) as well as the ULA CDT (54L total, 27 ounces, $220). The Zpacks Nero Ultra 38L (38L total space, 10 ounces, $250) offers an ultralight option for the lightest of ultralight packers, but in typical Zpacks style still has organization and features you need in a pack of this nature. The Super Nero Ultra 50L boosts the space up to 50L total, with a pack weight of just 12 ounces at $270. Both of these packs are suggested for 20lbs or less of total pack weight. Another option is the MLD (Mountain Laurel Designs) Burn. This pack weighs in just over a pound and retails for $325 with 38L of storage. Featuring the tried and true combination of roll top main compartment, outside pocket, side pockets, and hipbelt pockets, the Burn is a nice option for ultralight overnights or beyond, so long as you are indeed focusing on the “ultra” of ultralight. Note that if you’re moving toward going ultralight, your backpack is the last thing you should upgrade. There is no point in exceeding the comfort limits of a pack just to achieve a target weight number on a spreadsheet. Comfort is more important and it’s better to have a slightly heavier, but more comfortable backpack when loaded. Summary: Best Ultralight Backpacking Backpacks ULA Photon ULA Ohm ULA CDT Zpacks Nero Ultra 38 Zpacks Super Nero Ultra 50 MLD Burn Best Lightweight & Long Distance Backpacks This is the bread and butter category of backpacking packs if you’re focused on lightweight backpacking, planning longer trips where saving weight is a priority, or if you're planning on thru-hiking a long trail. These are the packs that are just right most of the time, just fine (if a little under-loaded) for an overnight, and can be pushed for longer trips – although they may not be the most comfortable for hauling heavy loads the first few days out and until some of that consumable weight is reduced. In this category and if your pack weight will be under 35-40lbs two packs from ULA Equipment have been a favorite choice of both mine and the backpacking community for years. My pick is the ULA Circuit (total volume 68L, 38.5 ounces, $300) that I’ve used on overnights up to 10 day trips and everything in between, although it’s definitely pushing it for trips over a week for me (whether you’d want to grab a pack from the next section in this article is a personal call). If you’ll be packing a little heavier, trend towards longer trips, and / or like more space the ULA Catalyst (75L total, 44.4 ounces, $320) will make more sense. To save a little weight and for a more waterproof pack Ultra versions of both of these packs are available. These two packs feature my favorite storage configuration for the trail (as previously described): large roll top main compartment, large outside back pocket, side pockets, and hipbelt pockets. In either case, you simply cannot go wrong with these two venerable ULA packs if you’ll be carrying less than 40lbs fully loaded (I’ve had 50lbs in the Circuit, not suggested but the pack was no worse for wear). And as a quick note if you're looking for a great kid's pack look no further than the ULA Spark. Another and newer pack to check out in this category is the Durston Kakwa 55 (around 60L total, about 31 ounces, $200-$260). This pack can be either had in the more affordable UltraGrid fabric option or Ultra 200X. Either way you get a pack with impressive organization at reasonable prices, and a pack that’s quite light but still can carry up to 45lbs. A note on Ultra: while many manufacturers have begun using Ultra (100X / 200X / 400X) fabrics for packs, durability has been mixed on the original fabric and the jury is still out on newer, further reinforced X versions. That said an Ultra pack will get you a completely waterproof pack (except seams unless taped). UltraGrid however, is a heavier denier nylon with a UHMWPE gridstop and a PU coating on the inside. This coating is rated at a 1500mm hydrostatic head – that’s as waterproof as some tents on the market. Fabrics similar to UltraGrid have proven themselves over the years. They will become more water-resistant in time, but these fabrics have held up very well to the trail – on or off trail for that matter – and have handled abrasion situations very well in my experience. Long story short, it is hard to beat a good gridstop fabric for packs. Gridstop may not be the most waterproof, but I have gridstop packs with a decade+ of usage that are still quite water resistant and there are other ways to keep your backpacking gear dry. This would include using a pack liner or a large dry bag or two…or alternatively a trash compactor bag would be suggested in regards to pack waterproofing. Gridstops aren’t as trendy as laminates, but I fully expect 10 years or more of use out of packs made with these gridstop ~200+ denier nylon fabrics and there is a lot to be said for that. Back to backpacks, for the lightest of the light, the Zpacks Arc Haul Ultra 60L (60L total storage, about 22 ounces, $400) is worth consideration – this pack is rated to carry 40lbs via a carbon fiber frame system with integrated back ventilation and as a bonus is also available in a women's specific version. The pack uses a lighter Ultra 100X to save weight – so this pack will be better for users that are willing to be a little careful with their gear in order to save the weight. Summary: Best Lightweight & Long Distance Backpacks ULA Circuit ULA Catalyst ULA Spark (for kids) Durston Kakwa 55 Zpacks Arc Haul Ultra 60 & Women's Best Load Hauler Backpacking Packs Weight (of the pack itself...or weight carried within it for that matter) can quickly spiral out of control in this category, with some manufacturers offering packs here that can weigh well over 5lbs. In this category we have a few main venerable larger players, with one example being the Gregory Baltoro and the Gregory Deva series, in particular the Baltoro 75 liter (~80 ounces, $360) and the Baltoro 85 Pro (around 88 ounces, $400), with the women’s version being offered in the Deva 70 backpack (about 75 ounces, $360) as well as the larger Deva 80 Pro pack (~84 ounces, $400). If you’re looking for a cushy mainstream get-it-done pack to haul large loads that can be on your doorstep a few days from now, the Baltoro and Deva packs have been a go-to for many years and are rated to carry up to 70lbs. Saving weight for the pack itself is not however a strong point here. If you’ll be hauling a heavy load (long trips, lots of food and water, or extras like packrafts or camera gear) but still have a lightweight approach like me, you may need to look at smaller companies to fill this niche. Leaders in this category include the Superior Wilderness Designs Wolverine 95L (a 70L is also offered) pack as well as their 95L Big Wild pack (no large outside back pocket), also offered in a 70L version. While color is usually not my primary concern when selecting a pack, these two SWD packs for better or worse are only made in Ultra 400X fabric which only comes in white or black – which I’d have to say, would be towards my last 2 choices when it comes to something like a pack or tent color. That said, these packs are rated to carry up over 50lbs for around $400 and will come in around 40 ounces for the pack itself, plus or minus depending on options. Be sure to check out their available add-ons if you want something like a hydration port or hipbelt pockets. Hipbelt pockets offer convenience and storage for smaller items you'd like to keep immediately at hand. A few other packs stand out here: Nunatak makes extraordinary gear and offers their Plateau Pack (around 40 ounces, $350) with an up to 75L capacity and capable of carrying 50+ lbs. This pack is more custom built and you’ll have to see if things like hydration ports or hipbelt pockets can be added. Be it Superior Wilderness Designs or Nunatak or even Seek Outside which we'll talk about to follow, plan in advance and buckle up for some wait times. Seek Outside offers a couple packs worth checking out – although Seek Outside seems to lean towards the lightweight backcountry hunting crowd at times, some of their products can be used for lightweight backpacking like the 79L Divide 4800 2.0 ($505, 55 ounces). However, Seek Outside takes no custom requests so if you want something like a hydration port, you’re out of luck unless you want to start cutting and sewing yourself. The largest pack they offer with a hydration port is currently the Gila 3500 2.0 ($485, 51 ounces). The Gila isn't all that large of a pack (for a load hauler pack) with a 57 liter pack bag, but you can use the top strap and bottom straps to carry items on the outside and the pack features Seek Outside's load hauling frame. Seek Outside’s frames are very uniquely rated for pretty much whatever weight you can physically carry, so if you’re looking to grab a single pack that can handle just about whatever you can throw at it in regards to pack weight, these are the packs that would be up to the task. Summary: Best Load Hauler Backpacking Packs Gregory Baltoro Gregory Deva SWD Big Wild 95 SWD Wolverine 95 Nunatak Plateau Pack Seek Outside Divide 4800 2.0 Seek Outside Gila 3500 2.0 Best Budget Backpacking Packs If you want to keep it under $200 (at least before shipping and tax) – which I would very much consider a budget range for a backpacking pack – the previously mentioned Durston Kakwa 55 in UltraGrid offers quite a bit of value in this category as long as you’re packing somewhat lightweight, with the REI Co-op Flash 55 (about 55 liters, just under 3lbs, $200) offering another option that’s worth ample consideration. The REI Co-op Flash has the bonus of being offered in both a men’s and women’s version and in my experience, this line has demonstrated good value and very acceptable performance. Another interesting sub-$200 option can be found in the Osprey Rook 65 backpack (men's) and the Osprey Renn 65L (women's). Designed to carry up to 40lbs, these packs offer 65 liters of space, basic features, and can be had for about $190 while weighing in just under 4lbs. A pack from the REI Co-op Flash series. It is also worth checking out the REI Co-op Outlet from time to time, as you can often find many packs or last year’s model that will be perfectly serviceable at a discount here. For a budget load hauler pack, this can be tough since these are typically the larger and more feature-packed (expensive) options. The aforementioned REI Co-op Outlet is a good place to start your search. That said the Kelty Asher 85 is also worth consideration – as you’d expect it’s an 85 liter pack that weighs in close to 6 pounds, but can carry a heavy load and retails for just under $200 full price. With use but not abuse, I’ve found that a quality lightweight backpacking pack can last quite some time – a decade or so – of frequent use. For me they can be pushed beyond that on trips but they will be showing some wear and tear. A backpack is critical for comfort on the trail however, so with that 10 year mark in mind that I get out of quality packs, I’m not afraid to spend up a bit if it translates to durability and additional comfort on the trail. Summary: Best Budget Backpacking Packs Durston Kakwa UltraGrid REI Co-op Flash 55 Osprey Rook 65 Osprey Renn 65 REI Co-op Outlet Packs Kelty Asher 85 My Approach to Backpacking Packs and in Conclusion If you like to keep your gear simple and want one pack to do it all, there are a few ways to go about your approach. You can pick a pack rated for the heaviest load you’ll ever carry, and while it may be a bit much for shorter trips it will work. Or you could go for a pack rated for the typical load you’ll carry, but your shoulders may be complaining at the start of longer trips. This can be done if you’re only rarely expecting to take these kinds of trips and saving the cash is more important than comfort (not my choice). You could also pick a pack for overnights, another for most trips in the middle, and an even larger pack for load hauling and the longest excursions. For me, I like two packs: one do it all (from the lightweight and long distance category) and another load hauler for extended trips with extra gear. One advantage of this route (multiple packs) is that it spreads the wear out a bit and your packs will last longer. For more information on how to choose a backpacking backpack, size, materials, and pack features and considerations, see our guide on How to Choose the Best Backpacking and Hiking Backpack. For a large selection of various backpacking packs that you can sort and filter by capacity and more, see this page at REI Co-op. For Related reading on the "big 3" see our articles, Best Backpacking Tents by Application and Budget as well as How to Choose the Best Backpacking Sleeping Bag.

As soon as we set foot on the trail, a way to carry one of the most essential ingredients for a successful hike – water – becomes essential. With a myriad of options available from bottles of nearly every variety to dedicated, and often complex, hydration systems on the market today, when choosing a way to carry your water while backpacking the shopping experience can become complicated quickly. What follows is an overview of options that are available for this task along with my preferences, and a look at various water-carrying strategies for the trail. A selection of hiking and backpacking hydration options including soft bottles, water bottles, insulated bottles, and hydration systems. Hiking & Backpacking Water Bottles The simple standard water bottle comes in many forms, but attention will need to be paid towards capacity, ease of use, durability, and weight. By far the most popular water bottle you’ll find on the trail, and often off of it as well, is the 1 liter Tritan Nalgene bottle. These bottles offer a nice capacity while still fitting in most backpack water bottle pockets – but they aren’t light – weighing around 6 ounces for the bottle alone and these are often one of the first things backpackers will change if they’re looking to save some pack weight. In the bottle category, repurposed plastic drink bottles will be among the lightest options, such as empty Gatorade bottles, bottled water containers, 1 liter softdrink bottles, etc. and often will weigh less than 2 ounces empty. The bottles are an excellent choice if you’re looking to go ultralight and are ok with treating them somewhat gently. These types of bottles do not handle boiling water well, and I’ve had these bottles last for many trips only to crack when dropped a short distance – relegating them to something I can’t use but get to carry around for the rest of the trip. Luckily, if you go this route replacements are cheap! Soft bottles can also be placed into this category, also being very light if you do not mind a non-rigid drinking container. In between these 2 options is the Nalgene Ultralight, or HDPE version which features a more opaque and flexible type of material than the Tritan (both are BPA free). These at just under 4 ounces in the 1L version, are still a bump up in weight from a something like a repurposed plastic bottle (Gatorade, etc.) but will be much more durable. Both types of Nalgenes will also handle boiling water with ease, and on cold nights these are great for tossing inside your sleeping bag (the heavier Tritan will hold heat the longest). With a balance of durability and weight, the Nalgene Ultralight has become my personal go-to bottle choice on the trail. Both types of Nalgenes are available in a wide mouth (easier to fill) and narrow mouth (easier to drink) versions. Either way, these bottles are likely the all-time most popular way to carry water out on the trail. Of course, there are countless other options on the market in this category (REI offers 100+ water bottles for example), the main things are to select the capacity you need and go with some type of bottle that will be sufficiently durable for your wilderness excursions without weighing you down – not counting the water that the bottle will carry. For capacity 1 liter seems to be about right on size to last for a sufficient amount of time without having to refill too frequently, while still being small enough to be packable. For 3 season use and weight wise, it may be hard to justify anything weighing more than the already a bit burly Nalgene Tritan bottles. This would exclude winter backpacking however, when something heavier that is vacuum insulated like a Hydroflask or a Klean Kanteen can be very nice to have and can keep water / tea etc. hot for many hours even in bitter cold temperatures, keep water from freezing at night, etc. (burying your water bottles, upside down in the snow is another technique here). In all cases make sure your backpack choice allows for easy access to your bottles so that you do not have to take your pack off to get them out or back into the water bottle or side pockets on your pack. Although, there are other ways to attach a bottle to your pack as well and some prefer to attach bottles right onto their shoulder strap. Lastly, one other small, but handy feature to have is a measurement scale on your bottle, which can help when it comes to measuring out water for that freeze dried meal at dinner time. Even if you're a hydration reservoir fan, having a normal bottle and more normal drinking vessel on hand at least for camp is always convenient. Backpacking Hydration Reservoirs & Systems Hydration reservoirs are very popular and for good reason: once they are filled, in place, and setup they make drinking on the go (we are hiking after all here) very easy and can be operated without stopping and having to remove and replace bottles. While filling can be awkward, often times your water filter choice can be connected directly to the system and the hydration bladder / reservoir can be filled by pumping water or via gravity. Hydration systems are perfect if you like to take more of a sip as you go approach vs. a tank up at intervals approach to hydration on the trail. In any event, since having that drink tube close at hand throughout the hiking day makes things so easy, I do find I always seem to end the day more hydrated when I pack along a hydration system compared to a bottles only approach, and this is especially helpful in hot weather and at altitude. For capacity here 3 liters is a great all around size – as long as you remember that you don’t always have to fill it all the way – only enough to get to the next water source (or water source you want to stop at). Many various options exist on the market, but as features increase so does the weight. While insulated tubes are available for cold weather hiking, for winter use I do simply leave the hydration system at home and switch to a bottles only approach (often including insulated bottles as we talked about earlier). Hydration reservoirs can be a little tricky to clean: after all we have a main flexible reservoir often with a small opening, a drink tube, and a bite valve. Some type of system with an anti-microbal treatment like the Platypus Hoser is very much appreciated here, along with a cleaning kit when needed between trips. Many bite valves will wear out or get dirty over time and start to slowly leak, so having some spare bite valves in your gear stash is helpful. Make sure you’ll be able to route the drinking tube out of your pack – most packs have dedicated hydration ports – and while a hydration sleeve in the pack can be useful, it’s not necessary – I usually pack my hydration system sideways across the top of my pack for easy access during the day. Dedicated hydration packs (view REI's selection) exist on the market, and these are best suited for day hiking vs. backpacking. While a hydration pack will be convenient, they are typically heavier and really all you need is a hydration port on your backpack and a separate hydration reservoir. Even a hydration sleeve inside your pack is optional. Capacity Considerations for the Trail Having the ability to carry extra water or have extra water on hand while at camp can be beneficial as group size increases, when you’ll be hiking where the distances between water sources are large and / or during hot weather, and when you’ll be carrying all of your water into a dry location on shorter backpacking trips. While I have been known to carry gallon plastic jugs of water in the latter type of situation on several occasions, this is not the most suggested way of accomplishing this task. Rather than fill our pack with empty bottles that always take up lots of space empty or full, my preference here is to utilize lightweight, collapsible containers like your standard Platypus container or similar. Taking up little space and weight when empty, these can easily be filled at camp or when needed for dry locations. Carrying water for longer waterless stretches of trail will require extra containers and capacity. The total capacity you need among all water containers will vary based upon how often you like to stop throughout the day to filter / treat, how much water you like to drink, conditions, and if you’ll be dry camping or not. In normal conditions where water sources will be prevalent, I find that a 3L hydration reservoir combined with a 1 liter bottle is a great combo: I will usually either leave the water bottle empty or leave space in the reservoir during the day to save on weight, refilling both completely when at camp or at the last water source prior to. Water is heavy, but your pack gets lighter with each sip; strategies vary greatly on how much water to carry and I like to take the carry a little more weight and stop less often approach in this regard. If you like to spend more time in camp, or like to hit the trail and do not want to be forced to filter water again first thing or early in the day, having an extra collapsible container can be helpful. In drier conditions extra containers may also be needed, so a little math will be required in these cases to see what the ideal total capacity to take along should be. Final Thoughts on Backpacking Hydration Options The best route to take when it comes to your backcountry hydration solution? Simply put, there may not be a best. My preference is to vary my approach to the subject depending on season, weather, anticipated sourcing of water and my water treatment method for the trip, and my approach nearly always results in some type of mix of everything we've discussed. A hydration system is great for convenience during the day, but I still always like to have a bottle on hand for camp, for a little capacity boost, and to have if I’ll be adding any type of drink mix to my water, etc. For a complete list of hydration options that you can sort and filter by the considerations we’ve discussed above, check out REI’s complete selection of water bottles and containers here, and you can find a list of hydration systems on this page also at REI.

No matter your approach to backpacking – ultralight, comfort light, traditional, or whatever our own unique approaches may be in the gear department, backpacking in and of itself goes hand in hand with a gear list (whether on paper or simply in our heads), making a way to carry all that stuff one of the most important gear related items we need to consider. What follows is a guide to selecting an appropriate backpack for hiking and backpacking, including an overview of features, technologies, materials, and other considerations that are needed when it comes to selecting the best backpacking backpacks. REI Co-op Flash 45 Backpack (our review) The Backpack Frame As soon as you start to carry more than 15-20lbs on a trip (including food and water), which is the case for the great majority of backpackers with a full pack, a pack with a frame should be selected to help transfer the weight of the pack off your shoulders and on to your hips. While in years past the great debate was internal frame backpacks vs. those with external frames, the majority of choices on the market today will feature an internal frame when it comes to the multiday hiking backpack category. If you're in the market for an ultralight backpacking pack, with a few exceptions you'll be looking at internal framed packs (or even frameless on the extreme end of the spectrum). Some companies that offer packs like this include Hyperlite Mountain Gear (view their lineup here), backpacks from Zpacks, etc. On the flip side externally framed packs are now available with cutting edge materials and designs that are significantly lighter than the traditional heavy and tubular external framed packs of days past, so with packs breaking out of the mold in many cases, I like to focus more on the other specifications of a pack rather than agonizing over the internal vs. external backpack frame debate. As long as it has a frame – commonly made of aluminum, carbon fiber, or a high density plastic sheet – other specifications such as maximum weight carrying capacity, materials used, comfort, and organization are most important to me. Many frameless backpacking packs exist and are more specialized in nature, suitable for ultralight loads and as such usually most appropriate for shorter duration trips where less food will have to be carried and in areas where water sources are frequent. With careful packing however these ultralight frameless packs can still be used if you’re very diligent about how much weight you’ll be carrying and especially if you are concerned about having the lightest possible total pack weight. However, their use is limited and I find it more feasible to utilize a framed pack on short trips where I might be carrying an extra pound of pack or so, rather than trying to deal with the limited weight carrying capacity of a frameless pack (and often limited storage capacity) on a longer trip. Some frameless packs will even omit a hip belt to save more weight, but even on a frameless pack I still prefer a hip belt – while weight transfer to your hips will be limited without a frame, every little bit helps. While frameless packs will always boast the best weights, often hovering around just 1lb, thankfully many lightweight framed packs are now available from many manufacturers. For most backpacking purposes a framed pack weighing 2-3lbs is a great range to target, and perhaps a bit more if you like to carry a heavier range of gear, food, or water – or all of the above. And like shoes, backpack fit and comfort is critical and this is where it pays to take some extra time measuring your torso length and checking out the manufacturer’s sizing guide, as framed packs are usually available in several sizes. Often each size will have a bit of adjustment built in, and will be provided by moving the hip belt or shoulder strap attachment points in order to fine tune the fit. Backpacking Pack Capacity Expressed in cubic inches or liters, the most popular sizes for modern backpacking would be options in the 45 liter range (~2750 cubic inches) like the REI Flash 45 – quite appropriate for most weekend trips – and packs stepping up in size into the 60 liter range, which I find most appropriate for week long trips or so. Both sizes can be pushed a bit beyond these limits and depending on your other gear and packing style. Regardless, there will be times when a 45 liter is a bit too small or a 60 liter a bit too large, but it comes down to a personal decision and how your trips typically take place; some of us are weekend warriors with others tending to head out only on longer trips. The other strategy is collecting multiple packs and picking from your collection depending on the trip at hand. For me, I like one pack that can do it all just to keep it simple (and cheaper), with my 4200 cubic inch (this includes all storage – not just the main compartment) ULA Circuit serving as my workhorse backpacking pack for all trips. With around 10 days the longest I will go at a stretch (this is about as much food as I prefer to carry at once), the pack will be at its limits early in the trip, but is perfect after a few days. For overnights or weekends in the summer where gear is minimal, my jack of all trades pack will have some extra space, but I will just allow my down bag to loft up inside and it’s always better to be in a situation where your pack is suited to carry more weight than you actually are carrying than the other way around. The other capacity consideration is in regards to weight. Backpacks with a beefier frame and more sturdy hip belts will allow you to carry more weight comfortably, but as we increase in weight capacity the weight of the actual backpack itself increases as well, forcing a balance to be struck. Again here we need to evaluate the length of our typical backpacking trip and normal proximity to water sources (water is heavy). One pack will not be perfectly suited for every condition. Whether you are just starting your collection of backpacking gear or are looking to upgrade an existing pack, this is also the time where it pays to evaluate all the rest of your backpacking gear, weigh it, and figure out how much food and water you’ll also usually be carrying before buying the pack itself. My preference again is to go with a lightweight pack that is suitable for carrying the full weight of all my gear, the full weight of my food even on day 1 of most trips, and all that combined with all the water I’ll be carrying. Sure, the occasional longest of trips might be a little heavy on my shoulders until I eat a day of food, but 95% of the time the pack will be near perfect. A little math at home here will pay off later on the trail. Features and Organization 25 years ago – when you’d find inspirational, beautiful brochures detailing a popular manufacturer’s complete line of external framed packs along with the latest Campmor catalog in your mailbox, packs seemingly had a compartment or pocket for everything. Dedicated sleeping bag compartment. Swiss Army knife pocket. Zippered storage for your MSR white gas fuel bottle. The list goes on. While organization is a key component to finding what you need quickly on the trail, there’s no reason to go overboard, or under when choosing a backpack. I like the big 4: Main storage compartment, outside pocket or storage, hip belt pockets, and dual side water bottle pockets. I’ve found this arrangement to be the best balance for me on the trail, and I then utilize further lightweight stuffsacks if additional organization is needed – rather than just throwing the complete contents of my first aid kit randomly in the main compartment of the pack for example. With this arrangement you are able to pack anything you’ll need only at camp inside the main compartment (sleeping bag, sleeping pad, etc.), pack anything you might need immediately at hand during the day in the outside pocket of the pack like rain gear – this pocket can be in the form of a lid or pocket on the rear of the backpack. You’ll also have easy access to small frequently used items, or emergency items in your hip belt and side water bottle pockets – things like a small camera, snacks, whistle, and water bottles themselves – all without having to take your pack off. Even if you're in the market for an ultralight backpack, you should be able to find these features even on the lightest backpacks. Additional attachment points are always nice to have on longer trips or for those times you might be carrying extra gear. This ability can come in many forms – bungee systems on the outside of the pack, ice axe loops, etc., with the main concern here being their existence without getting in the way or adding too much weight to the pack. Often, normal closure or compression straps can also be utilized to hold items you might want to secure to the outside of your pack like a bulky foam sleeping pad. Top loading hiking backpacks feature a large opening on top of the pack – either a roll top design which works well for compression and water resistance, or with a drawstring closure often covered by a “lid” or “brain” with a pocket. Panel loading packs, which operate a bit like a suitcase with long zippers, are also available if you feel you prefer easy access to all of your gear at once, however panel loading hiking backpacks will often be a bit more complicated and a little heavier. Although it may go without saying, other features such as a sternum strap, load lifters for framed packs to pull the load closer to your center of gravity and move more weight off your shoulders, a comfortable hip belt, and features like a padded backpanel are all things to check off the list. Other features such as ventilated backpanels, hydration sleeves and ports, or trekking pole holders for example should be sought after on a preferential basis. Backpack Materials Protecting the rest of your gear contained within, and other than shoes and trekking pole tips, backpacks face one of the roughest existences on the trail of all the gear we carry. However, going over-durable here can lead to an overly heavy pack, but we still need something that can withstand being dropped on the ground and rocks repeatedly, leaned against scraggly trees, and contact with brush and boulders without having to constantly repair or replace our pack. Often the simple eye test can give an indication of just how durable all the various fabrics utilized for backpacks may be. Silnylon and standard Cuben / Dyneema Composite Fabrics dominate the ultralight pack market, but are not particularly durable fabrics in regards to abrasion resistance. A water resistant ripstop nylon pack fabric A hybrid Dyneema fabric is also available, featuring a polyester face fabric for increased abrasion resistance while still taking advantage of the waterproofness and strength of the base Dyneema material (seams may however, not be sealed or taped in any water resistant pack). Heavier duty ripstop nylons and Dyneema gridstop are more popular fabrics and offer a great balance of weight and durability. The latter two options frequently feature a PU coating for waterproofing, which will degrade over time – no matter the case one should always further waterproof their critical gear by way of waterproof stuff sacks, or by using a pack liner of some type – usually just a larger version of a waterproof stuff sack or a trash compactor bag. A pack cover is another way to approach waterproofing, and some packs like the REI Co-op Traverse (view at REI) include a rain cover that can be stashed in the pack when not in use. In rainy conditions, an outside mesh pocket can be nice to have for drying gear, once the rain does stop. In all cases, if the bottom of the pack is reinforced with a double layer or heavier duty material this is always a bonus, with this location being the most susceptible to abrasion and wear. Spending a little extra time when it comes to choosing the best pack for you, and getting the fit dialed in, will go a long way toward carrying comfort on the trail during those long days and hikes. Straps and Belts A backpacking backpack designed for carrying heavy loads will frequently feature heavily cushioned shoulder straps and hip belts, while lightweight packs and ultralight packs will typically feature minimal padding in this regard. I usually carry loads up to around 50lbs on extended backpacking trips, and find that I typically prefer minimal padding on a hip belt, with medium padding on shoulder straps. With the minimal padding, I just feel more connected to the pack and frankly, I think that backpack fit is most important here. Some backpacking backpacks like the ULA Circuit, are worth consideration for their dual adjustable hip belt straps that pull inward. This allows both for a more ergonomic fit and adjustment. Make sure you can easily reach and adjust all straps on your pack, including your load lifter, shoulder straps, and hip belt straps all on the fly. Instead of more pockets than you can count and technical fabric and frame materials, the best backpacking backpack for you might just be the one that's simply the most comfortable and isn't a hassle to adjust on the trail. Choosing the Best Backpacking Pack: In Review Thankfully, as a required item for backpacking there are no shortage of lightweight, framed, frameless, heavy duty, ultralight, top loading, panel loading, and men’s or women’s backpacks – or various combinations of these designs – on the market today. No matter your take and approach on the subject, the best backpack for hiking on those extended trips might be the one that you end up thinking about the least while on the trail; one that carries all your gear across the various intended situations with ease, all the while without weighing you down and one that is sufficiently durable to last for countless backcountry adventures. For a current list of backpacks that you can filter and sort by many of the features we’ve discussed in this post, see this page at REI.com. For our current choices so far as the best packs out there are concerned, see our related article: Best Backpacking Backpacks: From Overnight to Thru-hike.

When it comes to backpacking stoves, there are several routes one can take and several different main categories of stoves exist – each with an array of pros and cons. Without a doubt however, no matter which way you go about it the backpacking stove is an important part of any overnight or multi-night gear ensemble. A backpacking stove provides hot meals and drinks, goes a long way towards keeping you warm on chilly mornings and evenings, and for backpacking and hiking a stove needs to be convenient, lightweight, and reasonably fast to use with readily available fuel. Canister stoves offer proven performance with a convenient fuel source. The Canister Stove A canister stove uses a pressurized gas canister for its fuel source, and this fuel can be butane, isobutane, or propane and is usually a mixture of these fuels. These canisters are available in different sizes for varying trip lengths, and if you'll be using the canister in colder temperatures, you want to avoid a canister containing regular butane as its vaporization temperature is quite high in the 30 degree range (translation: your stove may not work / performance will suffer / it may be difficult to use in colder temperatures). However, canisters containing a mixture of isobutane and propane are much more suitable as temperatures drop. Isobutane will vaporize down to about the 10 degree mark and even lower as you gain altitude, and propane vaporizes down to the arctic-like temperature of minus 44, but there is only so much propane in your usual backpacking canister mix. Canister valves automatically open and close when you connect and disconnect the stove for ease of use and packing, and note that you can mix and match brands here – you don’t necessarily have to match the maker of your stove to your canister brand. As long as the canister has a Lindal valve you are good to go. Popular blended canister fuel brands include MSR IsoPro as well as fuel canisters from JetBoil and propane / isobutane mixtures from Snow Peak. Either way canister stoves offer convenience: they are easy to carry, usually fuel efficient, simple to use, and the pre-packaged fuel is likely readily available at your local outfitter. While having the fuel contained and prepackaged provides that convenience, they are non-refillable and after a while you are likely to end up with a bunch of canisters that don't have enough fuel to get you through a trip, but aren't empty either. They are recyclable if empty and punctured, and Jetboil makes a specific tool for that purpose. A necessary accessory for any canister stove user should be a digital kitchen scale that measures to the gram – this way you can always calculate the exact amount of fuel inside a canister before a trip. Canister stoves excel at boiling water, but you can dial the flame down and simmer…or even bake…with practice and with the right approach. Upright Canister Stoves Among canister stoves, upright canister stoves screw directly into the top of the canister and can be quite light – with many of these stoves falling in the 2-3 ounce range. I’ve used upright canister stoves with isobutane / propane canisters on trips with lows in the high teens, but usage much below these temperatures will become difficult, especially considering that the longer you use a canister in a sitting, the colder it will become – colder than the actual outside temperature – due to evaporative cooling. In cold or cooler temperatures it’s good to keep a few tricks in mind. In cold temperatures you can place the canister in a bit of water inside a container like a shallow bowl if needed to keep the canister’s temperature up and maintain performance, and sleeping with the canister inside your sleeping bag is never a bad idea when temps get chilly to give you a head start in the morning. Soto WindMaster Upright Canister Stove with MSR IsoPro 110 gram Fuel Canister Other types of upright canister stoves feature an all in one, integrated canister stove system like many of the system offerings made by Jetboil and options like the MSR WindBurner that are designed to be particularly efficient, at the cost of upfront weight, while saving fuel. These systems may be a good option if your primary need is boiling water. I personally prefer a more typical upright canister stove and like to choose different pots – like those from the Evernew Ultralight Series – depending on the trip. In recent years several upright canister stove options that utilize a pressure regulating valve have made it to the market, often claiming to increase overall and cold weather performance. While these stoves won't replace an inverted or liquid stove for cold conditions, I have found them to have better and more predictable performance overall when compared to other options featuring a standard needle valve. Popular upright canister stoves include my current choice, the Soto WindMaster – find our full review here, and a couple classic examples can be found in the MSR Pocket Rocket 2 and the Snow Peak GigaPower. Integrated canister stoves like the Jetboil Zip are also quite popular. Remote and Inverted Canister Stoves Remote canister stoves keep the canister remote from the burner and feed fuel via a hose. This allows for two benefits: remote canister stoves let you really shield the burner with a large windscreen to block wind and hold in heat to save fuel while the canister remains outside the windscreen – in an upright canister stove this would make the canister too dangerously hot. Secondly, if said remote canister stove allows you to use the fuel canister in an inverted position, a solution to the colder weather fuel vaporization issues previously discussed is realized, as using the canister upside down feeds fuel in a liquid form where it's subsequently preheated and vaporized at the hot burner of the stove itself in cold and very cold temperatures. For a remote canister stove that allows for inverted use, I use the MSR WindPro II. You can find our WindPro II review here. MSR WindPro II and Remote Canister For all types of canister stoves I like a dedicated starter if I can get it, and always look for built in piezo ignition. A separate piezo starter can be used if your stove of choice doesn’t feature one, or a lighter will do the job as well. Piezo igniters can fail, but they can also be replaced. Of course, always have a backup ignition source in your separate fire starting kit, but the convenience of a piezo igniter has far outweighed any small amount of hassle in my experience. No matter if you're using an upright or inverted canister fuel stove, be sure to dispose of spent fuel canisters appropriately. Liquid Gas Stoves The bread and butter stove of cold weather camping and for mountaineers alike, liquid fuel stoves like the venerable MSR Whisperlite are reliable options that burn white gas, or even an array of liquid fuels including gasoline for some stoves like the International version of the Whisperlite. A liquid fuel stove will work well in very cold weather, but most liquid fuel stoves are heavier and more cumbersome to use in regards to the need to handle liquid fuel in refillable fuel bottles, priming the stove, complicated hardware with more moving parts and maintenance etc. However, if you’re into group or complex meals like baking on the trail, a liquid stove may be hard to beat (options like the MSR Dragonfly are specifically designed with simmering in mind). A liquid fuel backpacking stove is thus perhaps best for the cold weather backpacker, the backpacking chef, or those who desire a stove that will work across all conditions who might not mind the extra weight and the potential hassle of a fuel bottle for 3 season use. Alcohol Stoves Alcohol stoves are designed to run on denatured alcohol (available at many hardware stores, etc.), or for my use I’ve always run them on the cleaner highest proof grain alcohol (Everclear). The benefits of an alcohol stove are weight and simplicity, there aren’t any complicated mechanisms or moving parts – you usually just fill and light the stove. With simplicity comes reduced weight, and the stove can even be made from tuna cans, soda cans, and the like. Alcohol stoves can be subject to fire restrictions and require some extra care with the open flame and fuel. I’ve used alcohol stoves across many conditions and my favorite offering is the Trail Designs Ti-Tri system that works well to trap the limited heat that an alcohol stove produces while blocking wind, greatly increasing efficiency. Another venerable alcohol stove option can be found in one of the several Trangia burners that are available. Alcohol Stove from Trail Designs Regardless, if you go with an alcohol stove you will definitely want a windscreen of some type. Alcohol stoves usually compete with upright canister stoves; ultimately the choice is up to you regarding which benefits you find most appealing and on longer trips, the increased efficiency of a canister stove may begin to cut into an alcohol stove’s weight savings. Fuel for an alcohol stove can perhaps be easier to find, and alcohol stoves have been popular for thru-hiking and ultralight backpacking usage for some time. With an alcohol stove you can dial in the exact amount of fuel you need prior to a trip instead of having to take a full canister each time, and perhaps taking too much fuel and the extra weight. On the other hand with a digital scale and some partial canisters to choose from, you can get close with a canister as well. Wood Burning Stoves Ti-Tri Wood Burning Stove Many wood stoves exist on the market, with of course the simplest way to cook with wood being a small campfire – which I’m most likely to use when cooking in this manner – although I’ve utilized the combo wood or alcohol burning Trail Designs Caldera Ti-Tri system for this purpose as well. A wood stove won’t beat a campfire in weight carried, but will beat it in convenience and efficiency. Cooking with wood of course requires you collect wood and start a fire, and would have to be ruled out in areas where fire bans are in effect. Wood also leaves residue on pots and the stove, but a wood fire is hard to beat for ambiance, and fuel is free and you don’t have to carry your fuel in your pack during the day. Chemical Tablet Stoves Stoves that burn manufactured hexamine chemical tablets like those from Esbit are quite efficient and very lightweight. Like alcohol stoves, you will want a windscreen to maximize efficiency and block any wind here. These tablets and Esbit fuel can be a bit hard to find if you’re in a pinch, but you can of course stock up from online sources. Esbit stoves leave a residue on your cookware and produce fumes, and as I prefer cleaner or more natural burning fuel alternatives, my experience with Esbit or other hexamine stoves is limited, but I can see the appeal for emergency or backup usage. Some ultralight backpackers however find Esbit fuel appealing for its simplicity and light weight. Esbit stoves, like the Esbit Titanium Stove are small, light, simple, and easily carried. Many backpackers would consider alcohol, wood, and solid fuel tablet stoves alternative fuel stoves. Final Thoughts As with nearly any other backpacking gear category, there may be no best backpacking stove, but hopefully the above information can assist with determining which option(s) would work best for you. While I own them all, these days my general approach is to take an upright canister stove (the Soto WindMaster) for 3 season use. Only when needed in very cold weather or anytime melting snow will be needed will I reach for an inverted canister stove. That same inverted canister stove – the MSR WindPro II, would work just fine in the summer as well if the extra weight wasn’t a concern. But whether you go with a one stove to do it all approach or like to mix and match to specifically meet the needs of the excursion at hand, any backpacking stove should ideally be durable, reliable, and have the ability to heat water and cook your cuisine of choice in a reasonable amount of time, and through whatever conditions will be encountered during a trip. For a full list of backpacking stoves that you can sort by fuel type and many of the points discussed in this article, check out this page at REI.com.

Strong men and women are laid low by this place. Acute mountain sickness, the “Khumbu cough" (also known as the high altitude hack), gastroenteritis, the cold, the food...what makes them want to come here? What made me want to come here? Our friend Paul walks down the hall of tonight’s tea house, remarking on the sounds of hacking and coughing emitting from the guest rooms. “This place is full of crazy people.” And I can’t argue otherwise. I wondered, before I came to Nepal to hike to Mount Everest Base Camp, whether this might be my new “Hardest Thing.” My old Hardest Thing was made that way by high elevation and its effects, hiking the Bear Creek Trail in the Colorado Rockies at high altitude. This time, I thought I had it handled. A few years older but in better physical condition, I am taking Diamox to help and am much more aware of the effects of altitude. Starting the Trek to Everest Base Camp This is day eight of our trek, and we are in the village of Lobuche. At 16,170 feet, it is our last stop before we push on to Base Camp. It is late October 2012, and my husband, Bill, and I are traveling with a small group of Americans, led by both American and Nepalese guides. Andrew, the youngest member of our group at 30, was the third person to come down with the fever, chills, nausea, and diarrhea associated with acute gastroenteritis brought on by ingesting the wrong thing. Such an affliction is always unpleasant but here particularly so, as spending inordinate amounts of time in the less-than-pristine and always frigid (whether inside or outside) toilet is miserable. Neither Bill nor I have been struck with the stomach bug yet, but I have been dealing for several days with mild symptoms of acute mountain sickness, or AMS, the proper name for altitude sickness. It began with a headache at 14,000 feet and has gradually worsened, but so far isn’t severe enough to keep me from moving on. Joe, our American guide from Backwoods Adventures, is keeping a close eye on me (and all the others) to make sure we are healthy enough to continue. A severe case of AMS could be deadly and, at some point, a hiker experiencing symptoms must simply descend to cope. A Peek at Mount Everest on the Approach to Base Camp Getting this far is an accomplishment. We have hiked 32 miles since our arrival at Lukla, the starting point for the trek, and home to an airport that has the reputation as “The World’s Most Dangerous.” The unusually short airstrip is squeezed between the side of a mountain and a cliff with a nearly 2,000-foot drop. Volatile weather conditions increase the risk, so pilots flying from Kathmandu must choose their timing carefully. On our first attempt to fly out of Kathmandu, the plane turned back because the landing gear would not retract. Once the mechanical issue was resolved, wind conditions at Lukla prevented departure for several more hours. It was 2 p.m. when we finally left Kathmandu for the 45-minute flight to the village at 9,800 feet elevation. It was a relief to have feet on the ground after the harrowing flight and, after a late lunch, we started to walk. Over the five miles to our lodging in Phakding, we actually descended to 8,700 feet, hiking much of it in the dark. View of Ama Dablam along the Hike to Everest Base Camp Our path through the Himalayas follows a well-worn trail first established by real mountaineers who didn’t turn back at the base of Mount Everest. Trekking to Base Camp as a destination began in 1965 when a British mountaineer and former Ghurka officer, Colonel Jimmy Roberts, had the notion that people would pay for the privilege of following in the footsteps of Hillary and Tenzing through the Dudh Kosi River Valley, along the Khumbu Glacier, and to the base of Everest. And they did, with trekking now a big contributor to tourism in Nepal, one of the world’s poorest countries. Accommodations along the trail are in “tea houses,” which exist to provide bed and board to trekkers. While these lodges offer a distinct advantage over tents in the chill of late October, we would be seriously uncomfortable without our zero-degree sleeping bags in the unheated guest rooms. While hiking we have no difficulty staying warm, but each afternoon when we reach our destination we take refuge in sunrooms attached to the tea houses. Unfortunately our arrival seems to coincide with the daily appearance of clouds, which roll down the river valley and obscure the sun. Toward evening, yak dung stoves in the common rooms are fired up and guests gather around, trying to soak up heat for the night ahead. Warmth remains elusive the entire trip. Cold, in fact, is constant. A Rhododendron Forest Near Deboche After the easy first leg of our hike from Lukla to Phakding, we climbed 2,500 feet over six miles to Namche Bazaar – a hard day. The trail follows the Dudh Kosi valley north through pine forest, and was crowded with trekkers, porters, natives carrying insanely large loads, and yak trains carrying all manner of goods. Everything up here is carried by man or beast. There are no roads to these villages, and no wheeled vehicles that could reasonably convey loads up these steep, rocky, narrow trails. We have learned to step out of the way of the ubiquitous yaks – or dzopkyos (a cow/yak mix). “Yak attack!” has become our cry when we need to give them room on the trail. They appear docile but have fierce-looking horns. Our pace, it occurs to me, is life at the speed of yak, and for this place, that is plenty fast. Exploring Along the Way to Base Camp Thamserku, a 21,679-foot peak, rises to the east of Namche Bazaar and came into view at the village of Mondzo, where we stopped for tea. The trail crosses the river numerous times along our 40-mile path to Base Camp, typically on steel suspension bridges fluttering with prayer flags. Here we used one of the steel structures to cross to the river’s east bank; the remains of the old wooden bridge destroyed by floods in 1985 are visible upriver. Along the trail, the villages are interspersed with forests of rhododendron, magnolia and fir. Prayer wheels decorate the village entrances and mani stones are everywhere – alone or in piles – beside villages, at crossings, along paths and on mountains. Ama Dablam stands sentinel over the Dudh Kosi River Valley. Namche Bazaar is the main trading center and tourist hub for this region and there we stayed two days to acclimatize at the 11,306-foot elevation. Our stay at Namche included a hike to the Everest View Hotel which, according to the Guinness Book of World Records, is the highest hotel in the world at 12,729 feet. As the name suggests, it also offered our first view of Mount Everest, which reaches more than 29,000 feet above sea level. Its summit cone is almost obscured by other mountains, but is distinctive because of the constantly blowing snow created by high winds at its peak. Here, 22,349-foot Ama Dablam dominates the scenery, its ghost-like shape making it hard to forget. We saw it ahead of us for several days as we walked up the valley. Then, suddenly, it was behind us. Acclimatizing and Staying Warm Over the next several days we made slow progress – the trek is timed intentionally to provide plenty of time for acclimatization. Fitness is one thing, having enough oxygen is yet another, and both are critical to success here. From Namche to Phortse to Pangboche, then Pheriche, where we took another rest day, at 14,000 feet. The houses and stone walls of Pheriche scatter along the broad valley of the Khumbu Khola, a tributary of the Dudh Khosi which drains from the Khumbu Glacier at the foot of Everest. Pheriche is home to a high altitude research center at the Himalayan Rescue Association clinic, where we heard a sobering lecture on the effects of high altitude. With an extra day here for acclimatization, we hiked to a ridge between Pheriche and Dingboche, affording spectacular views up and down the river valley. Eat, hike, sleep, try to keep warm, repeat. Everything has become difficult as we have ascended. Eating enough is a challenge. High altitude suppresses appetite but at the same time, the body needs more and more calories. And the food becomes less and less palatable. Producing food for western tastes on yak dung stoves at 14,000 feet must be difficult. And protein is hard to get. We were warned to avoid eating meat on the way up because of contamination concerns. Seeing halves of pigs carried up the mountain, I could see why. Susan and Bill Dragoo pause on the final approach to Mount Everest Base Camp. The push for Lobuche, gaining more than 2,000 feet of elevation in five miles, was another hard day. We followed a wide trail north along the bottom of the valley, a desolate landscape, the trail going directly up the gravelly terminal moraine of the Khumbu Glacier. At the top of a ridge, the path bears left and is covered with memorials to lost climbers and sherpas – piles of stones and masonry pillars, prayer flags everywhere among the wispy clouds and thin air. I am walking very slowly now. My headache recurred last night and Joe advised me not to overexert, which could exacerbate the AMS. Any exertion at this altitude is acutely felt. I have control over so little – my body responds as it will to the lack of oxygen – but I am trying to be very compliant so I can make it to Base Camp. It is cold inside the “Mother Earth House” lodge in Lobuche, and it will be an even colder night. We have an early start tomorrow, to Gorak Shep then on to Base Camp. It will be a long day. Hiking on to Mount Everest Base Camp The first section of the trail from Lobuche follows the gap between the glacial moraine and the mountain wall. To the right, the Khumbu Glacier gurgles under a blanket of rocks and gravel. The landscape grows more desolate, and the trail is marked only by cairns of stones and the dung of yak trains. Soon Kala Pattar comes into view, an 18,192-foot mound of dark mountain rubble which provides perhaps the best view of Mount Everest in the Himalayas and which several of us had hoped to climb. At this point, I have my doubts as I trudge. Gorak Shep is a small collection of lodges providing basic needs – food and a space to sleep. We stop there and make our sleeping arrangements and continue to Base Camp, a draining scramble starting at the north end of Gorak Shep. My headache is no worse and I am thankful. I walk at a steady pace, optimistic now that I will make Base Camp. Soon we are there. Base Camp is a semi-permanent village of tents and prayer flags at the bottom of the Khumbu Icefall at 17,519 feet. Everest is not visible from here – it lurks somewhere beyond the icefall. We stay on Base Camp’s edges. There are crowds of people. It is an emotional moment for me, the culmination of this trek. We snap photos and return to Gorak Shep, a place which seems like – and in some ways, is – the end of the earth. Susan and Bill Dragoo at Mount Everest Base Camp After a cold night and a headache (I did not attempt to summit Kala Pattar), we begin our descent, which seems like a lark, as oxygen becomes more and more plentiful. On our return to Lukla, we walk through an enchanting rhododendron forest near Diboche, climb to Tengboche Monastery, and visit an old Buddhist nunnery, but become more and more eager for warmth, hot showers, and good food. On Day 14, we walk back into Lukla and I decide, yes, this was definitely my new Hardest Thing. And that’s why I did it. Mount Everest Basecamp Trek: Need to Know Information Nepal is a small, land-locked strip of land tucked between Tibet and the northeastern border of India. Its capital city is Kathmandu, with a population of 1.6 million. Mount Everest is the highest mountain on Earth, with its summit about 29,032 feet above sea level. The mountain is part of the Himalaya Range in Asia. Best Time to Go Spring or fall to avoid the summer rainy season. October and November have the best weather for trekking and comprise the high tourist season. The trek itself takes about two weeks and there are travel days before and after, so schedule about three weeks for the whole experience. Getting There Several reputable tour companies offer guided treks to Mount Everest Base Camp. Getting to Nepal from the U.S. takes about two days. Our route took us from Los Angeles to Seoul, South Korea, then to Bangkok, Thailand, where we stayed overnight. The next day we flew to Kathmandu, Nepal, staying two nights before flying to Lukla for the start of the trek. Maps National Geographic Everest Base Camp Trekking Map Books There are many available. Two good choices are Lonely Planet’s Trekking in the Nepal Himalaya and Cicerone’s Everest, A Trekker’s Guide. About the Author Susan Dragoo is a writer and photographer living in Norman, Oklahoma who would rather be hiking just about any day of the year. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 21 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

The people of Idaho know what a gem they have in the Sawtooth Range, but few people elsewhere in the world have a clue it exists. Recently my travels took me to Stanley, Idaho which lays claim to being the gateway to the Sawtooths, and from here it’s an easy drive to numerous trailheads in the Sawtooth Range. I have photographed this mountain range many times around its periphery, but this time I wanted to backpack through the heart of these mountains. With the help of a shuttle, who would shuttle my car while I was backpacking, I could make a linear trip from one end of the Sawtooth Range to the other. Stanley is a small town, but it does have a grocery store and a shop where gear can be purchased. It also has the Stanley Bakery which serves the best breakfast around for hundreds of miles. With the owner’s recent purchase of the Sawtooth Inn and Restaurant just a few blocks from the bakery, the local dinners are not to be missed either. Backpacking the Sawtooth Mountains & Sawtooth Wilderness This 217,000-acre Wilderness was signed into law and protected by congress in 1972. The land is filled with granite spires (with 50 over 10,000 feet) and over 400 alpine lakes. There are hundreds of miles of trail and more off-trail routes to secluded valleys and isolated lakes. During the month of September the Sawtooths are usually dry, with temperatures in the 70s for highs and 30s for lows. Of course snow can fall at any time in this range, and I’ve been in the foothills of these mountains when the mornings were in the low teens. It’s pretty easy to get to the high country in the Sawtooths, the town of Stanley already sits at 6,260 feet and so by walking 5 miles from the Iron Creek trailhead you’re already at a high alpine lake. My walk began at Iron Creek – an early evening start that allowed me to reach a classic Sawtooth lake for my first camp. For the majority of my hike the trail I walked for 55 miles would undulate between timberline and alpine with an occasional dip into a deep valley. After leaving the lake behind, my high valley trail passed numerous tarns, rubble, and a couple small alpine lakes. Walking around the backside of Mount Regan, I soon left the high country and descended into a lowland sage-covered prairie to ford the raging North Fork Baron Creek. In early season this crossing is potentially hazardous, but in late season it’s only a shin-deep wade. A few switchbacks later I’d descend to the lowest point on the hike when I crossed Baron Creek. From here, I began another climb towards a large hanging valley of the Baron Lakes area, which is bordered by the jagged Monte Verita and Warbonnet Peak. I climbed to 9,160-foot Baron Divide for views of my upcoming travels (in the Sawtooths passes are called divides), and then took a 1,700-foot descent down into the forested Redfish Valley where I began my 2,000-foot ascent to the Cramer Lakes under Sevy Peak and the Arrowhead and 9,480-foot Cramer Divide on the shoulder of the Temple. At the lakes I found a scene artist Albert Bierstadt would have loved, with a picturesque waterfall and a backdrop of serrated peaks. Above the lakes to the divide is a walk though glacial moraine amongst fallen boulders and glaciated stone. All the hiking is under the watchful eye of The Temple, a magnificent spire of a mountain. Once I topped Cramer Divide, I recognized that the Sawtooth Range abruptly changes from jagged peaks to more rounded mountains. The land looks softer and more approachable. A quick drop to a beautiful lake brought me to meadows filled with huckleberries. I wish I had camped here, since this was the most beautiful lake I had seen on my hike. My route took me to Edna Lake with its views of majestic Glens Peak. After two more climbs and two more 9,000-foot-plus passes, my path descended into the Yosemite-like Toxaway Valley. A walk west brings you to spectacular Toxaway Lake, but east lowers you into a wide, low, forested plain. After a climb over the shoulder of Parks Peak I descended for the last time to the shoreline’s calm waters of Pettit Lake. My shuttle had moved my vehicle during the hike (as planned) and I was pleased to find my automobile right where expected. Final Thoughts on Hiking the Sawtooths A walk through the spires of the Sawtooths is strenuous and impressive. In late summer be prepared for all sorts of weather. Even though most months bring ample sunshine, I was pummeled by rain for one night on my route. This land has abundant amounts of wildlife and large mammals abound: sheep, goat, bear, cougar, deer, elk, and even a few moose make their way through this wilderness so keep an eye out for them. Bark beetle and fire has devastated the lower lands, but near timberline the trees look healthy and are devoid of much disease. Outside of Idaho the Sawtooths are a lesser known wilderness area, but the land is enchanting and some of the most beautiful I’ve visited. If you start planning a trip here, I have a few more suggestions for you listed below. Sawtooth Mountains Need to Know Information Free permits are available at the trailhead and there’s a lot of information online. Camping is allowed most places within the Sawtooth Mountains. Best Time to Go Early summer can have heavy runoff and the stream crossings can be treacherous, and mid-summer can get crowded in the backcountry. I prefer the warm days and cool bug-less nights of early September, but you’ll need to check for possible trail closures due to fire. Getting There Stanley, Idaho is the gateway to the Sawtooth Range, and the Iron Creek road to the trailhead is about 3 miles west of Stanley off of highway 21. My end point at Pettit Lake on Pettit Lake Road is about 20 miles south of Stanley. Maps and Books I used the Sawtooth & White Cloud Mountains Trail Map. Also available is the National Geographic Trails Illustrated 870 map. In regards to books, Trails of the Sawtooth and White Cloud Mountains by Margaret Fuller, published by Trail Guide Books offers hiking suggestions, maps, and trail descriptions. See the Hiking Idaho Falcon Guide for more hiking ideas in the state. All images in this article © David M. Cobb Photography. Editor's Note: This article by contributor David Cobb originally appeared in Issue 11 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content. See more of David’s photography at dmcobbphoto.com.

Water and sand, water and sand, water and sand – it’s been a few years since I visited the canyon country of Utah and I forgot about the mix of water and sand here that can permeate one’s hiking shoes. I should have worn sandals. I read about walking the wet canyon bottom, but I stuck with my hiking shoes anyway. This time I arrived to explore Coyote Gulch, a photogenic but crowded canyon which cuts across Grand Staircase National Monument and the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area of south-central Utah. After bouncing an hour down the 33 miles of dirt-covered Hole-in-the-Rock Road, my hike began at the Hurricane Wash trailhead. You can obtain a free permit here to cover your hike, if there are still some available. My goal for this trip was to explore the Coyote Gulch area thoroughly from Hurricane Wash, connecting with Coyote Gulch and walking it to its convergence with the Escalante River Canyon. I’d then retrace my steps for awhile up Coyote Gulch and jutting right when Hurricane Wash juts left. I’d take this route back up the gulch until it meets up with the Red Well Trailhead, walking the road from here back to my car, and creating a large 30 mile letter “Y” of a hike. A Coyote Gulch Backpacking Trip Begins The hiking was easy enough at first, as the trail crosses sandy mounds of desert and dry wash beds. A few groups of backpackers were leaving as I walked in, but I was to see many more hikers before the day was through. This is not the place to go for solitude; as a matter of fact I saw more people on this backpacking trip than all my 60-70 Utah canyon hikes put together (excluding Virgin Narrows in Zion National Park). That was ok with me. I had hiked many other canyons in the Escalante region, but this was still on my list to explore and photograph. As I walked onward, Hurricane Wash slowly deepened and the walls narrowed as I approached Coyote Gulch. A spring generated a small stream which grew deeper as I hiked downward, and it was here along the trail I began to find poison ivy. Since I’m horribly allergic to the stuff, I watched where my arms and legs were at all times. Water was never a problem on this hike, but because there is so much of it, I also felt more mosquitoes and chiggers than any time in canyon country. Once Hurricane Wash converged with Coyote Gulch, the canyon widened and so did the creek. Here campers and tents were seemingly around every bend. Lizards scurried across last year’s fallen leaves, and you’d swear they were rattlesnakes – that took a little time to get used to. Coyote Gulch deepened and opened up to huge alcoves. From here to the meeting of the Escalante River, you can choose to try and keep your feet dry or just walk the sandy bottom of the creek (good luck keeping your feet dry). In a couple of miles the route passes by Jacob Hamblin Arch, and after a couple more miles you’ll walk through Coyote Natural Bridge. If you take the higher slickrock route (instead of the bowed canyon cascade route) you’ll get a good view of Cliff Arch. Along the way, you’ll pass a panel of Fremont Indian pictographs too. In the lower part of Coyote Gulch the waterfalls begin, and with that the hike begins to lower off ledges and down benches. I wanted to spend time with these photogenic cascades and take advantage of some of the morning light bouncing off the canyon walls. The lower part of the canyon seemed more flower-filled too which added to the ambiance. Somehow I followed a rock cairn towards a ledge. Here I got off-route, until a Good Samaritan backpacker came along to direct me back up canyon. The trail at this signed junction actually goes south uphill between cliff faces. A few hundred foot slog in sand gives you a view of the large Stevens Arch across the Escalante River. Further uphill will bring you to a trailhead and also a junction with the Escalante below. A longer hike can be taken from here, but for me this was trail’s end. And a reverse route was begun. Stevens Arch The Hike Back to the Trailhead I always like reversing my route in canyon country for the different perspective. I took a different route at times or walked the other side of the canyon for a change of scenery. Once I reached the confluence of Hurricane Wash and Coyote Gulch I continued my walk up Coyote Gulch to its beginnings. Every time I thought the canyon was about to peter out I’d round the bend and there would be another 500-foot alcove shading me from the sun. Once the trail passes through a gate at a barb-wire fence you start hiking through cow country. Cow pies litter the water and splatter the sand, and within a few miles the water turns to dust. From here it’s a dry hike back to the Red Wall Trailhead along sandy-bottomed washes and over slickrock. I followed the road from here for about 4-5 miles back to my car. Backpacking Coyote Gulch: Need to Know Information Permits are available at the trailhead. Good lightweight footwear helped make my feet more comfortable, and get ready for wet and sand, wet and sand, wet and sand. Best Time to Go I recommend taking this hike in spring or fall. If you’d like more water along your walk, then go for spring; but if it’s the fall color of cottonwoods that you’re after, choose autumn for your seasonal hiking. Getting There From State Route 12 just east of the town of Escalante in south-central Utah, take the Hole-in-the-Rock road (may be impassible if wet) 33.5 miles to the Hurricane Wash Trailhead. Car shuttles can also be arranged ahead of time through local outfitters if you’d like to drop your car off at one end and shuttle to a starting point. Maps I used the National Geographic Trails Illustrated Canyons of the Escalante #710 Map. For getting to and from the trailhead and exploring other Utah hikes, an atlas like the Delorme Utah Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful. Books There are many hiking and canyoneering books covering the Escalante region of Utah, you might want to check out the Falcon Guide: Hiking Grand Staircase-Escalante & Glen Canyon Region by Ron Adkison. All images in this article © David M. Cobb Photography. Editor's Note: This article by contributor David Cobb originally appeared in Issue 9 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content. See more of David’s photography at dmcobbphoto.com.

Oklahoma is generally not high on most lists of hiking destinations. Common perceptions of the state are rooted in the Dust Bowl: flat, arid plains; dust storms; and a generally inhospitable place to live. Much of Oklahoma still fits this bill, though it is less arid than expected, and the farms and ranches are productive again. It does not seem like the place for hikers to go in search of interesting terrain, wilderness and beauty. Emerging from the unyielding flatness of the Oklahoma plains, the Wichita Mountains are a revelation of surprising beauty, craggy mountains and untamed wilderness. When nearing the outskirts of the Wichitas, the flatness of the fields gives way to rolling foothills punctuated by an occasional rocky outcrop. Once in the heart of the range, rugged domes and high peaks composed of pink, weathered granite proliferate, revealing an unexpectedly ragged mountain fastness. Yet, the mountains, amazing as they are, are not the only treasures in the Wichita Mountains. The Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge contains the bulk of the range itself and nearly all the publicly accessible land. Consequently, these mountains are home to one of the largest bison herds on public lands as well as elk, deer, prairie dogs, armadillos and the other usual denizens of the plains, plus an unusual herd of feral longhorn cattle. Taken together, the mountains and the wildlife combine to form an exceptional hiking destination. First Hikes in the Wichita Mountains I first discovered the Wichita Mountains at the beginning of a four-year stint at graduate school in Dallas. Growing up in northern California, I had not quite realized how important mountains and the wilderness were to me. My first semester in Texas was difficult as I came to terms with my self-imposed exile in the flatlands. When asked about where to go, Dallas residents all pointed me to the Texas Hill Country, which, though interesting and supplying some hiking opportunities, failed to satisfy my hunger for wilderness. By accident, I stumbled across a brief reference to the Wichita Mountains on the internet. Though doubtful of their mountain qualities I made the three hour drive north to Lawton, Oklahoma the following weekend. As I approached, the peaks loomed on the horizon. It was a dramatic moment, the realization that a mountain oasis existed not far from the Dallas Metroplex. Not only were the Wichitas a wildlife refuge, they were also a hiker’s refuge. Although the area was not vast compared to a national park or a national forest, the mountains were so rugged that there was immense opportunity for exploration packed into a relatively small area. Over the next four years I returned to the Wichitas again and again, piercing ever deeper into the heart of the mountains, discovering unexpectedly wonderful sites. Though there were many great memories built during these journeys, the one that stands out was a backpacking trip during the elk rut. All afternoon and through the night, their unique bugle could be heard as I set up camp and went to sleep. That night, as the elk bulls continued to call out into the darkness, a lone bison walked nonchalantly through my camp, only a few feet away from me. As I lay there looking up at the stars, I was amazed that such a land could be found in Oklahoma. The Wichita Mountains are a small mountain range. Rather than being a single block of mountains, the Wichitas a series of several separate batholiths. The western half of the range consists of numerous isolated granite islands protruding from the flat Oklahoma farmland. Most of this area is privately owned, though there are two spots that are accessible to the public. Quartz Mountain State Park is the larger with the more interesting landscape. The park boasts a few developed trails, a number of very good opportunities for off-trail exploration, and Baldy Point, one of the finest climbing areas in the Wichitas. Great Plains State Park also offers public hiking. Unfortunately, most of the park is occupied by a lake and only the southern fringes have any mountains of note. Thankfully, there is a developed trail here that explores this small slice of the park. Hiking the Eastern Wichitas The eastern half of the Wichita Mountains is remarkably different. Rather than isolated plutons punctuating the land, the eastern range is a large collection of peaks, canyons and valleys. Almost the entire area is contained within the Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge (WMNWR) and the U.S. Army’s Fort Sill Military Reservation. Although Fort Sill is closed to the public, hikers and backpackers will find ample opportunities in the WMNWR to explore the part of the Wichitas with the highest concentration of peaks, exposed granite, amazing rock formations and wildlife. Within the WMNWR itself, much of the land is set aside for use only by the refuge’s animal denizens. Still, there are three portions of the park that are open for public exploration. The first of these is the Mount Scott area, at the extreme east end of the park. No trails exist within this area but it consists of open granite dotted by the occasional juniper and post oak, trees that are common throughout the entire mountain range. Although this area is essentially trail-less, there is a road to the top of Mount Scott, the second highest peak in the WMNWR. The views from the summit are spectacular and take in most of the refuge and beyond. The Dog Run Hollow area, the second section of the WMNWR that is open to the public, is of more interest to hikers. This occupies the central part of the refuge. Unlike the Mount Scott area, there is a well-developed trail system providing access to some interesting destinations. The Dog Run Hollow Trail is a large, five-mile loop. Connector trails allow for a few different route options. The most interesting part of the Dog Run Hollow Trail is the east end, where the trail follows the rim of Cache Creek’s small but rocky canyon. During high water the creek tumbles down pretty cascades before flowing into Forty-Foot Hole. At the hole, the creek passes through a small gorge with sheer cliffs. The name is derived from the fact that the cliffs extend forty feet below the surface of the water, making a surprisingly deep pool. Beyond the trail system, the Dog Run Hollow area also has plenty of room for cross-country exploration on the west side of Cache Creek. This includes another, larger canyon called the Narrows, a favorite area for rock climbers. Charon's Garden Though the Mount Scott and Dog Run Hollow areas offer good hiking and scrambling opportunities, the Charon’s Garden Wilderness is the jewel of the Wichita Mountains. Here one finds all the best attributes that define the Wichita Mountains: high peaks, narrow canyons, caves, unusual rock formations, wildlife, and human history all gathered together, amplified and arranged in spectacular fashion. Although the Wichitas’ pink granite is ubiquitous throughout the mountain range, here it is manifest on an unequaled scale. The area is so rugged that it is easy to see why it was set aside as a wilderness, preserved in its primeval state: it was considered too inhospitable to be of any use to farmers and ranchers. However, what was unwelcoming to those who earn their living from the ground is a paradise to those who draw other kinds of sustenance from the land. The Charon’s Garden Wilderness offers hikers and, to a lesser extent, backpackers, a chaotic jumble of peaks and canyons to explore. Though the area is small, it is such a maze of rock that there is the opportunity for multi-day exploration without exhausting all of the sights found in the wilderness. There are two developed trails in the Charon’s Garden Wilderness. Both trails depart from the Sunset Trailhead on the area’s north side. The most popular route is the Elk Mountain Trail, a 1.1-mile trail that climbs to the broad summit plateau of Elk Mountain, the wilderness’s tallest peak. Though relatively short, the trail is only the beginning of the journey on Elk Mountain. The summit is expansive, with lots of potential for exploring the enormous boulders and delicate vernal pools. The Rock Rooms are a series of caves created by massive boulders stacked together in a draw on the south side of Elk Mountain. Some enter the caves and descend through the darkness from the summit plateau several hundred feet down to an exit at the base of the mountain. The second trail to penetrate the wilderness is the 2.2-mile Charon’s Garden Trail. This path skirts the western foot of Elk Mountain before passing through the Valley of the Boulders, which also contains cavernous rooms between the massive house-sized boulders. High above the trail brood the enormous Apple and Pear, a pair of boulders, true to their namesakes. Beyond the boulder fields, the trail parallels Post Oak Creek, the only watershed in the Charon’s Garden Wilderness. The route finally ends at the wilderness area’s southern trailhead. Along the way, the path passes by Post Oak and Little Post Oak Falls, the only notable waterfalls in the Wichita Mountains. Though these trails offer scenery far exceeding anything one would expect from this part of America, they are really just appetizers to the real adventure of the Charon’s Garden Wilderness. The only way to truly explore this wilderness is to depart the trail and scramble over the cliffs and boulders, climb down into the draws filled with thickets of juniper and oak, and ascend the peaks that dot the wilderness. There, one finds the true essence of the wilderness in the Wichita Mountains. Though human feet seldom journey into the hinterlands beyond the trails, the feet of bison, deer and elk are no strangers to these lands. They, along with geologic wonders like the appropriately named Crab Eyes and the numerous peaks, ensure there is no lack of destinations to explore. Although the number of official trails in the wilderness is limited, the Refuge makes the expectation of cross-country travel explicit. Backpacking is allowed in the wilderness, but camping is permitted only in a broad valley between the heart of the wilderness and Sunset Peak, a lone mountain occupying the northern part of the region. While there are use-trails, there are not official trails accessing the camping area. Bison and longhorn cattle often frequent this valley, adding significantly to its scenic quality. The Crab Eyes, twin rocks perched precariously on a 100 foot tall column of rock, are easily reached from the camping area as well. Hikers and backpackers are not the only people who have fallen under the spell of the Charon’s Garden region. Rock climbers have developed numerous routes in the wilderness and elsewhere in the Wichita Mountains. Indeed, the Wichitas are considered one of the finest climbing destinations east of the Rocky Mountains. The granite slabs and walls draw climbers from around the area and across the country. Trails blazed by climbers to reach climbing areas are eagerly used by hikers as well. Final Thoughts on Oklahoma's Wichita Mountains After I finished school in Texas, I returned home to California. Now surrounded by more familiar hiking haunts, I strangely found myself longing for my small granite refuge in Oklahoma. The tiny mountain range had cast its spell on me and helped me to redefine my definitions of wilderness, of beauty and what I considered spectacular. Places in California that I had disregarded in favor of the grand towers of the Sierra Nevada had a new appeal to me. My time in the Wichita Mountains had blessed me with an appreciation for the beauty found in lands not so tall or vast, but still rich with a glory and wonder of their own. I suspect this spell of the Wichitas will be with me as long as I live. Hiking the Wichita Mountains: Resources For getting to and from the trailhead and exploring other Oklahoma destinations, the Delorme Oklahoma Atlas & Gazetteer can be a useful resource. See the Hiking Oklahoma Falcon Guide for more information on hikes in the state. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Bubba Suess originally appeared in Issue 9 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

A cool, rainy weekend in early April provides the perfect backdrop for a hike on Arkansas’ Buffalo River Trail. Moist spring weather in the Ozarks means the lush hardwood and pine forest is bursting with wildflowers, ferns and all manner of growth, keeping hikers engaged in identifying each plant and marveling over the delicate and diverse shapes and intense colors. Cloudy, humid weather intensifies the deep, vernal greens enveloping the trail, and likewise accentuates the rainbow shades of countless blossoms. The Buffalo River Trail (BRT) runs along its namesake stream in northwest Arkansas for 62 miles in three non-contiguous segments. The Buffalo River is a “national river,” protected and managed by the National Park Service. The area is replete with hiking trails, and is also popular for canoeing and kayaking, camping, fishing, and horseback riding, it’s also known for its scenic bluffs, and its numerous waterfalls and historic sites. No matter how you choose to explore the area, any outdoor enthusiast will have a multitude of exploration opportunities to take advantage of. Hiking the Buffalo River Trail For hiking, the most popular segment of the BRT, and one that is well-used for backpacking, lies in the river’s “Upper District” and runs 36.3 miles between Boxley and Pruitt, staying mostly along the highlands south of the river. From Boxley, the trail heads north through several large campgrounds, including Steel Creek, Kyle’s Landing, Erbie, and Ozark. Backcountry campsites are also plentiful along the trail. It’s reasonable to backpack the BRT in a weekend, or break it up into several day hikes. I recently spent an April weekend there with my hiking buddies, who had day-hiked the segment from Boxley to Kyles Landing the previous autumn. For our spring hike, the plan was to camp at Ozark Campground, located between Erbie and Pruitt, and hike two segments, one 7.5 miles from Kyles Landing to Erbie, and one 8.7 miles from Erbie to Pruitt. This required placing cars at both ends of the trail for the first segment. Getting there, in and of itself, was an adventure. Traveling the rough dirt road to our first trailhead with all eight of us piled into one vehicle for what seemed like triple the five and a half long miles was very uncomfortable, but also quite comical and undoubtedly memorable. This approach, of course, is not recommended. At Ozark Campground our first night, I quickly spied my favorite wildflower of the eastern deciduous forest, the mayapple. Under its umbrella-like foliage grows a single flower which becomes the “apple” of May, although sometimes the fruit does not appear until early summer. Mayapple colonies look like a flotilla of green umbrellas hovering over the surface, and the flowers require some effort to see, usually involving lying on one’s belly for a good look. The Kyles Landing-to-Erbie segment started with a nearly 500-foot ascent to the top of Buzzard Bluff. Although there is some additional climbing farther down the white-blazed trail, it is neither as vertical nor as extended as this one. At least we got it out of the way. Even with recent rains, stream crossings were either dry or very shallow as we progressed along the trail. The dogwoods were blooming with fervor and their toothed flowers provided a lace-like framework for nearly every vista. Soon we spied the odd wood betony blooming amid the moss and reindeer lichen. With fern-like leaves and deep crimson or pale yellow swirled petals, wood betony resembles a pinwheel. And, lucky for us, the delicate wild iris, definitely a rival for my favorite, was blooming in abundance. Near the 2.5-mile mark, we came across a spur to the 48-foot Twin Falls, also known as Triple Falls, definitely worth the short side trip. Although there are three cascades, it is called Twin Falls for the two water sources that feed the falls from above, one a creek and the other a spring. Back on the main trail, we spied the wake robin, a form of trillium, its dark maroon bud peeking out from enfolding green arms. And soon appeared the shooting star, looking like a pure white columbine. Ferns and wild phlox encroached upon the muddy trail, creating a look of enchantment beneath the moss-covered bluffs. As we crossed Sawmill Hollow Creek, an old stone highway bridge appeared, looking charming but completely out of place in the natural setting. Over slippery small cascades and through deadfall we continued, ending with a walk through the historic Parker-Hickman Farmstead, with a log house built in the 1840s, before ending the day at Erbie Campground. The Last Day & Reflections on the Buffalo River Trail Our second day, the Erbie-to-Pruitt leg of the hike required us to add a few extra miles at the end. Automobile access to Pruitt Landing was closed because of road construction, so our plan was to hike from Erbie through our camp site at Ozark Campground, to Pruitt, and then return the 2.5 miles to base camp. The scenery was much the same, walking along a wooded hillside through lush foliage. The trail wound around a wildlife pond, its still waters reflecting the graceful limbs of the surrounding dogwood trees, filled with blossoms. As we approached Pruitt, our view of the river opened up, the turquoise water and a black-streaked bluff accented by two red canoes. After a brief respite at the Pruitt picnic area, we returned to Ozark. While our spring hike offered a highly sensory hiking experience on the BRT, autumn is its rival, with the bright foliage of the hardwoods and a crispness in the air, versus the humid atmosphere of the vernal months. No matter when you choose to hike the BRT, the trail offers a unique experience with a little history along the way. And after hiking its forested trails, crossing its cascading waters, and gazing from its rocky bluffs, the Buffalo River Trail leaves a hiker with a certain sense of quiet and solitude that it seems only the hills and hollows of the Ozarks can offer. Hiking the Buffalo River Trail (BRT): Need to Know Information The BRT’s two other sections are Dillard’s Ferry to South Maumee, an 11.4-mile trail in the Buffalo’s Lower Disrict, and the Woolum to Tyler Bend section, which starts at Woolum and runs just over 11 miles in the Middle District. Woolum is also the end point of the 165-mile Ozark Highlands Trail, a trail that can be thru-hiked starting at Lake Fort Smith. Another less-known trail often intersects with the BRT but provides a different perspective. The BRT mostly takes a high route along the bluffs but the Old River Trail (ORT) follows a historic farm road along the river for 13.2 miles, crosses the river multiple times, and passes through numerous old farmsteads. It is open to equestrian users as well, running from Ponca to a horse camp at Old Erbie. Abundant camping is available throughout the Buffalo National River area. Lodging is also available in and near Jasper and Ponca, as are canoeing outfitters and shuttle services. Best Time to Go Spring and fall are the best times to hike the BRT, as mentioned above. Mild winter days also offer excellent hiking opportunities. Summers are hot and humid in the Ozarks and thus less comfortable for hiking. Warm weather considerations in the area include poison ivy and ticks. Getting There From Interstate 40, take Exit 81 and travel about 70 miles to Pruitt, Arkansas. Ozark Campground is located on County Road 129. Books and Maps More information is available in Tim Ernst’s guidebook, Buffalo River Hiking Trails. You can find a National Park Service map here, and National Geographic offers their Trails Illustrated Buffalo River maps. For getting to and from trailheads and exploring other hikes in the state, the Arkansas Delorme Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful. For more reading on the Buffalo River Trail, see Backpacking the Buffalo River Trail: Great Heights. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 51 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

The White Mountains in New Hampshire are renowned for having the best hiking east of the Mississippi River. Treeline in New Hampshire is around 4,000 feet, and there are forty-eight mountains in the state that rise above this level. Most people have heard of Mt. Washington, infamous for the “worst weather in the world” and mountain climbers of all levels train in the Whites for major expeditions. In addition to the beautiful peaks however, there are a ton of small and large waterfalls throughout the region. During the process of putting together a book about waterfalls in New England, I realized something. These are the nooks and crannies of our beloved forested and rocky landscape. Whereas the spine of the White Mountains provide the grandeur of the sweeping vistas, waterfalls provide an intimate, and often revealing portrait of the northern forest. The rivers and streams are the lifeblood of the land, and one quickly realizes the power that water has in shaping it. These short loops can be enjoyed by young and old and in most seasons. They are not the “best” waterfalls in New Hampshire, but represent a little tour of the types of waterfalls present in the region. In my journeys to the waterfalls of New England, I quickly realized many benefits to waterfall hiking. First, they’re photogenic. In the spring the water displays its power and in later summer and fall, low water allows the adventurous hiker the opportunity for a closer look as much of the rock may be dry. Also, many waterfalls have swim holes, perfect for hot summer days and many waterfalls are just a short hike, or none at all making it a great option for those with limited time. And best of all, the cloudy or windy or even rainy days, just the days you don’t want to be high on a mountain, often end up being the best days to experience the magic of waterfalls. Let these loops serve as a starting point in exploring the varied falls, cascades, caves, chasms, pools, gorges and many other features that make hiking to waterfalls in New Hampshire enjoyable time and time again. Appalachia Waterfalls Hike The Appalachia trailhead on Route 2 is the launching point for many routes in the northern Presidential Range. Tough trails climb up Mt. Madison and Mt. Adams. But not far from the trailhead lie a number of beautiful waterfalls, and an easy 2.6 mile loop can be made to visit a number of these. From the parking lot head straight and then at the next two junctions stay left on the Valley Way and then the Maple Walk until you hit the Fallsway Trail. All along the trail are beautiful falls and cascades. Just downstream from the trail junction is Gordon Falls. Turnaround and follow the Fallsway Trail up along Snyder Brook, visiting Lower and Upper Salroc Falls and then to Tama Falls. This is about 0.75 miles from the trailhead and a solid 500 feet of climbing. From Tama Falls, turn around and shortly take a left onto the Valley Way, following this downhill until it meets the Sylvan Way, where you’ll head left. Follow the Sylvan Way a little over 0.5 miles and you’ll get to the quiet and secluded Cold Brook Falls. When you’re ready to head back to the car, follow this down stream and head on the Link Trail back to the parking lot. Arethusa Waterfalls Arethusa Falls is one of the most well known waterfalls in New Hampshire, and it’s one of the biggest. At over 150 feet, the 700 foot climb to the base is well worth it. In the spring, the falls are a raging torrent of large sheets tumbling down an almost vertical wall, whereas in the fall and low water you can get right up to the bottom of it. Most of the people who climb to the falls don’t make the minimal extra effort to follow Bemis Brook lower down the mountain along the Bemis Brook Trail, where there are a number of smaller, but incredibly beautiful waterfalls which are more intimate and sculpted than the gigantic falls a few hundred feet above. This 3.0 mile round-trip partial loop leaves from the parking area in Crawford Notch. Follow the trail into the woods then at the first junction head left along the Bemis Brook Trail. You’ll pass by the Fawn Pool, the staircase Bemis Falls and the beautiful series of 4-10 foot falls that comprise Coliseum Falls. The trail heads steeply from here to a junction with the Arethusa Falls Trail, which, in 1 mile will take you to the base of Arethusa Falls. You can take the Arethusa Falls Trail back to the parking area. Arethusa Falls is in Crawford Notch State Park. While there, be sure to check out Ripley Falls, just up the road as well as the beautiful AMC Highland Center. Right next to the center is the Willard Trail to the summit of Mt. Willard, which provides an incredible view of the glacially sculpted valley. Eagle Cascade This is the longest hike here. At 6.0 miles and 1,500 vertical feet, you earn your reward on this hike. You’ll visit a beautiful winding cascade, a fantastic ridge with rocky outcrops and amazing views, and a deep cold swim hole at the end of a tiring hike. You are way more likely to experience solitude on this hike as well, as the others are located in more popular areas. From the trailhead on Route 113, follow the Baldface Circle Trail for 2.2 miles before turning left on the Eagle Cascade Link Trail. This trail climbs fairly steeply and in 0.3 miles you’ll reach the plunging Eagle Cascade, which may be a graceful ribbon or a large pouring sheet depending on the stream flow. You’ll cross over the stream and climb steeply again for another half of a mile until you reach the Bicknell Ridge Trail. Here, high up on the side of the Baldface mountain range you’ll get sweeping views to the south and east. This is a fantastic place for a lunch. When ready, follow the Bicknell Ridge Trail back down to the junction with the Baldface Circle Trail and head right. In just over half a mile, you’ll want to turn left onto the short spur to the Emerald Pool, a deep aqua colored swim hole surrounded by 10-20 foot vertical rock walls. Follow the spur back to the main trail and then head back to the car. Route 113 goes through Evans Notch from which a number of great hiking trails leave. There are a bunch of waterfalls near here too including Brickett Falls, Bickford Slides and the Rattlesnake Flume and Pool, which is just over the border in Maine. Flume Gorge / Flume Pool Loop Hike One of the most popular tourist attractions in the White Mountains, the Flume Gorge / Flume Pool Loop is still well worth the visit. It also costs money, so make sure you give yourself plenty of time to enjoy it. Since it does get crowded, I’d recommend visiting right when they open in the morning as well as on a weekday. The Flume Gorge lies in Franconia Notch. Surrounded by the Kinsman Range and the Canon Cliffs on the West, and the rugged treeless Franconia Range on the east. The power of water to shape the land, in both its wet and frozen form, are blatantly obvious on this short hike. There is no “right” way to do this, other than making sure you do the full loop. However there are multiple short excursions and diversions along the way, and this is one place where the kids will have fun too. You’ll start behind the visitor center. If you go counterclockwise, you’ll take a covered bridge over the Pemigewasset River, pass by Table Rock and then head right into the Flume Gorge. Here a wooden walkway takes you through an extremely narrow canyon with huge vertical walls. At the top of the gorge you’ll see Avalanche Falls, which turns 90 degrees in its plunge to the floor below. On your way you’ll also see Liberty Gorge Cascade, cross over a gorgeous covered bridge and gaze down upon the sculpted pool before returning to the visitor center and your car. Keep in mind that this is just one option in Franconia Notch, where you’ll want to spend as much time as you can visiting the incredible waterfalls, hiking trails, and treeless peaks. Hiking Lost River Gorge Like the Flume Gorge above, this is another hike where you’ll need to pay. I had never visited it because of that, and when I finally did I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. This hike is less about the waterfalls than it is about boulders and caves and the power of the river. It’s a one-way boardwalk and is perfect for even young children, yet people of all ages will have a great time exploring the different geologic features. So this one is highly recommended for the family! The trail leaves from behind the visitor center and the path is obvious. You’ll hike down through the woods before getting on the boardwalk and heading back upstream. You’ll pass through features such as the Cave of Odin and Paradise Falls, and you’ll get views of some tall peaks in the distance. Note that just up Route 112 from the Lost River is Kinsman Notch where you can stop at the beautiful Beaver Brook Pond and hike a few hundred yards up the Beaver Brook Trail toward Mt. Moosilauke to see some beautiful cascades down Beaver Brook. Waterfall Hikes of the White Mountains: Need to Know Information The Flume Gorge and the Lost River Gorge require an entrance fee and are only open to the public during certain hours. Check with their websites for specific up-to-date information. The waterfalls will be most dramatic in the spring and during the snowmelt, but I find visiting in the fall is wonderful as well since you’ll get the beautiful foliage and the lower water flow allows you to explore and get much closer to the waterfalls. Some trails in the White Mountains also require a daily or annual parking pass. Getting There The Appalachia waterfalls hike leaves from a trailhead on Route 2 just west of the town of Gorham. The Eagle Cascades are located off of Route 113 near Evans Notch and the Arethusa Fall trailhead leaves from Route 302 in Crawford Notch. The Flume Gorge is in Franconia Notch off of Route 3 and the Lost River Gorge is on Route 112 near Kinsman notch. Maps There are numerous maps of the White Mountains so I’d suggest checking a few out. If you plan on doing any amount of hiking in the White Mountains, be sure to pick up the AMC White Mountain Guide, which contains information and maps for almost all the hikes in the region. Books For more waterfall hikes, check out my book, a FalconGuide titled Hiking Waterfalls in New England as well as Waterfalls of the White Mountains: 30 Hikes to 100 Waterfalls by Bruce, Doreen and Daniel Bolnick. If you are in Lincoln, NH, stop by the Mountain Wanderer store owned and operated by Steve Smith. This store has all the maps and books you could ever want and Steve knows more than anyone about hiking in the White Mountains. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Eli Burakian originally appeared in Issue 22 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.