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The Cascades have a reputation for long and brushy approaches, and the Pickets, a subrange in far northern Washington, have a particularly bad reputation in both respects. Even after escaping the dense vegetation, reaching many of the summits would feature more technical climbing than hiking. Together, these two factors have deterred most hikers from even contemplating a trip to this rugged and scenic area. The Pickets' reputation is not entirely deserved: Whatcom Peak at the far northern end is an alpine hike and a short third class scramble from the trail at Whatcom Pass, and the southern Pickets have become downright popular in the last decade, with a well-beaten climbers' trail and crowds on summer weekends. Still, the central territory between Mounts Challenger and Terror remains seldom visited and therefore unspoiled. Hiking Luna Peak At 8,311 feet, Luna Peak is the highest point in the Pickets, lying east of their main north-south spine. Luna is not an easy peak. Visiting Luna involves hiking a long trail, fording a stream, and surviving a few miles of savage bush-whacking up into the alpine. While it can be done as a dayhike, most people will take 4-5 days. Those willing to pay the price are rewarded with solitude, near-pristine wilderness, and one of the most spectacular panoramas in the continental United States: the precipitous, heavily glaciated eastern cirques of the northern and southern Pickets. The usual approach comes from the southeast, via Ross Lake (formerly the upper Skagit River) and Big Beaver Creek. Starting from the Ross Lake trailhead, you are immediately faced with a choice: pay for a boat shuttle, or hike 7 rolling miles along the lakeshore. While this hike is scenic enough, with views of Jack Mountain and the Hozomeen Peaks across the lake to the east, it adds considerable distance to what is already a long outing, and the water taxi is reasonably affordable when shared by a group. From the dock or footbridge, a well-used and maintained trail meanders along the north bank of turquoise Big Beaver Creek, gradually gaining elevation from the lakeshore at 1,618 feet toward Beaver Pass 2,000 feet above. Along the way, the trail passes through miles of shadowy old-growth forest. Occasionally, a marsh or avalanche path will afford views of steep Stetattle Ridge and Elephant Butte to the south, or Mount Prophet and its subsidiaries to the north, but the trail is mostly a green tunnel, with giant trees towering above and a carpet of ferns and moss to either side. Amazingly, most users of this trail never visit the surrounding peaks, and catch only fleeting and confused glimpses of the Pickets as they cross the low, wooded pass to Little Beaver Creek or Hannegan Pass. There are several established campsites along the way, with the most useful one helpfully labeled "LUNA." Most parties will want to camp here to prepare themselves for the crux of the trip: locating "Access Creek" and crossing Big Beaver Creek. While one might think that finding a stream junction would be easy, one would be mistaken. The two creeks join each other in a broad, marshy flat, with dense alders overhanging their banks. One method is to mark the creek junction on a GPS and travel by IHR (Instrument Hiking Rules). Do not be surprised or dismayed if it takes an hour or more to travel the first quarter-mile after leaving the trail; some parties have taken the wrong creek, or even failed to find the creek altogether. From Luna Camp, proceed about a mile farther up the trail, somewhat past Access Creek, before plunging blindly into the marsh with the goal of crossing Big Beaver Creek and locating Access Creek's north bank. If you find yourself going over and around logs, carefully pressing devil's club aside, stepping past what looks like giant mutant spinach leaves, and route-finding through a bog, you are doing things right. Eventually, after brief but fierce combat with some alders, you will emerge on one bank of the Big Beaver, to be faced with 20-30 feet of water and a mirror wall of alders on the opposite bank. After crossing Big Beaver Creek, be sure to locate Access Creek before leaving the valley floor. Then head west along its north bank, pushing through sparse forest and dense blueberry bushes as you climb above the bog. The easiest path follows an indistinct ridge, then continues out of sight of the creek, but within earshot. This section can be miserable for the impatient, especially after a day's easy travel on the Big Beaver Trail. Even above the marsh, progress is slow with no views, and many of the open areas are choked with spiny brush and devil's club. Enjoy the profusion of life and the absence of any signs of human passage. Around 4,000 feet, the south bank opens up in a patchy boulderfield, while brushy slide paths on the north begin to frustrate progress. Although you can cross at the lower end of the boulder fields, strips of alder and blackberries are troublesome, and often force you well above the creek. The best route probably stays on the north bank until past most of the alder patches on the south. The view finally opens up near the head of the valley, where Luna's precipitous east face rises 4,000 feet in less than a mile. You can either camp here near the stream, or continue to a higher camp above Luna Col for a better morning view and a shorter summit day. To reach the col, head south-southwest up the left-most steep gully at the head of the valley. In early summer some traverse the snow climb with technical gear. Later, it melts out to steep dirt and scree resulting in tedious hiking. At the top of the chute, the north side of the southern Pickets comes suddenly into view, a reward justifying the past two days' labors. From the MacMillan Spires to the Crescent Creek Spires, peaks rise 4,000 feet from MacMillan Creek in a wild jumble of rock, snow, and ice. Beyond Luna Col, the route sidehills across steep heather in a mile-long gradual ascent to the saddle between Luna and glacier-clad East Fury. At the saddle, Mount Challenger and its southern glacier emerge to the northwest, with Luna Lake and its mud-puddle sister lying far below at the head of Luna Creek. The creek has earned a reputation as one of the worst bushwhacks in the north Cascades, with miles of devil's club and impenetrable alder thickets separating Luna Lake from the Big Beaver trail. While Luna looks like a simple boulder-hop from the saddle, it hides a final surprise. Upon reaching what appears to be the summit, the peak reveals a final, exposed narrow ridge leading to its true, eastern summit. However, there are better views from the ridge's western end anyway. Looking west, the whole spine of the Pickets extends in a savage panorama of rock buttresses and hanging glaciers. Northeast, the twin Hozomeen Peaks rise on the other side of Ross Lake. Southeast, you can trace your long route from the trailhead, twelve miles away as the crow flies, along the Skagit River, Big Beaver Creek, and Access Creek. Luna Peak: In Conclusion Few places this remote, inaccessible, and unvisited remain in the lower 48. Only a handful of people touch Luna's summit each year, and their light touch leaves no trace. Therefore the reward of your journey comes with an obligation to leave no trace as well. This is one of a dwindling number of places in the continental U.S. that remain essentially untouched by humans. Need to Know Information Backcountry camping permits are required and can be obtained free at the Marblemount Ranger Station (360-854-7245). Getting There A water taxi service from Ross Lake Resort is offered to and from Big Beaver Creek. To reach the taxi, park at the Ross Lake Trailhead and hike down the trail and across the dam. Best Time to Go August or early September depending on snow conditions. Maps Either use CalTopo to print custom maps, or Trails Illustrated #223 North Cascades National Park. Books Covering trails in the area, you can refer to Hiking the North Cascades, a Falcon Guide as well as Day Hiking North Cascades. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sean O'Rourke originally appeared in Issue 28 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

When hitting the store for a backpacking water bottle we may be inclined to at first reach for our favorite color bottle or the bottle featuring the most appealing printed design on the side. While there’s nothing wrong with that when it comes to having a water bottle around the house or at work, when it comes to choosing a hiking or backpacking water bottle other performance factors should be considered. With weight being paramount in the backcountry, the prototypical standard, Tritan Nalgene bottle may not necessarily weigh you down, but there’s a better option in the same company’s lineup. Wide-mouth (left) and narrow-mouth HDPE Nalgene bottles The Ultralite HDPE Nalgene The Ultralite HDPE Nalgene bottle – the old school, slightly opaque white bottle that was par for the course several decades ago when backpackers wore fluorescent jackets and shorts with rag wool fingerless gloves, may just be the best water bottle of all time. While this bottle is not as ubiquitous as in years past, the HDPE / Ultralite Nalgene – made from food grade high density polyethylene plastic, is much lighter than its Tritan cousin (both are BPA-free, as you’d expect these days). At 6.3 ounces the Tritan adds nearly half a pound (each) to your pack, while the Ultralite adds a much more respectable 3.9 ounces. While nearly a quarter pound is still significant for ounce counters like myself, it’s worth the weight. As opposed to reusable bottles, some backpackers may opt to take soda or bottled water bottles to save weight. Re-used plastic water bottles are a decidedly lighter weight option weighing a couple ounces, instead of a few. However and as soda bottles, etc. are not designed to be reusable water bottles, disposable water bottles can’t take boiling hot liquids – and having a bottle that does allows you to make anything from hot coffee or tea for example, and also allows for throwing a hot water bottle inside your sleeping bag on chilly nights. Plastic bottles of this type also break, as I can attest to, and when one breaks a few days into a 10 day stretch, it’s inconvenient to say the least. Collapsible bottles will beat the Nalgene Ultralite in weight as well, but not longevity, usability, or durability. The Nalgene Ultralite HDPE has been a mainstay in the outdoor water bottle market for decades. Nalgene Ultralite vs. Tritan Water Bottles As we previously discussed, the HDPE is lighter than the Tritan, a big selling point and being softer than a Tritan Nalgene, the Ultralite HDPE handles drops better in my experience. The HDPE is equally suited for hot and cold beverages, and although both the Ultralite and Tritan can handle boiling water, the HDPE offers a little more peace of mind I suppose – the HDPE can handle water or hot beverages up to 248 degrees Fahrenheit (good for boiling water on below-sea-level backpacking trips I suppose). The Tritan on the other hand, tops out at 212F. And, when it comes to figuring out how much water to boil for dinner, any Nalgene bottle features graduated measurements in ounces or ml on the side of the bottle, which helps to get that meal dialed-in. To top it off, you won’t lose the tethered lid, and the bottles are especially secure in the leak department. Then venerable Nalgene Ultralite in the narrow-mouth version While the more modern Tritan Nalgene may admittedly, win in style factor and is the more popular option – found everywhere in stores, on the trail, and in coffee shops and schools, I’d argue that its more plain cousin is by far the best choice for hikers and backpackers. Most importantly – it’s lighter in weight. The Tritan Nalgene is a downright heavy water bottle approaching half a pound empty and even approaches the weight of some stainless steel bottles. The HDPE Ultralite Nalgene is not necessarily what I’d term “ultralight” (although compared to insulated water bottles on the market, it might just be), but it strikes the perfect balance between durability and weight. Sometimes, old school just can’t be beat. Perhaps the only con to this bottle is that it might be a tight fit in your car cup holder, but I might ask, is that an issue with the bottle, or the car? The narrow-mouth is easier to drink from, but the wide-mouth is easier to fill. Final Thoughts I'll still grab my stainless steel vacuum insulated bottle for coffee on the way to the trailhead or in addition to the Nalgene Ultralite on trips in the middle of winter, and stainless steel water bottles are great when weight isn't a concern. However on 3-season trips the Nalgene Ultralite is the only water bottle I pack along on every backpacking trip, hitting the sweet spot between a disposable plastic bottle and heavier options on the market. The Nalgene Ultralite HDPE bottle is available in a wide-mouth bottle (easier filling) and a narrow-mouth bottle (easier drinking) in the standard 1 liter size that fits in the side water bottle pocket of any backpack on the market worth its weight. The bottle can also be found in 16 ounce and jumbo 48 ounce options. You can find the normal and most popular wide-mouth option here at REI and here at Amazon.

Lumens are a unit of measurement used to determine the total amount of visible light emitted from a source. In the backpacking and hiking world, you can use the lumen value to compare the amount of lighting you’ll get from various nighttime illumination sources such as a headlamp. Lumen Considerations / How Many Lumens Higher lumen values typically come at the cost of shorter runtimes and decreased battery life. Brighter lights are also generally heavier and more expensive. For general nighttime trail navigation, I’ve found that at least 30-50 or more lumens are needed to follow good trails with relative ease, with around 50-100 being preferred for more vague and / or unfamiliar trails. However, lights that have the flexibility to switch between several modes of brightness can be especially helpful while backpacking. While in camp very low levels of lighting of just a single lumen or less can be great for reading or finding a tent zipper without disturbing fellow campers. However, this all comes down to personal preference. Additionally, very low levels of light will allow you to keep your own night vision somewhat intact. On the other hand, there will be times where you may need to briefly light up an area to make it through a particularly difficult section of trail or to check out an unfamiliar noise in the night. For these circumstances a higher level of lighting in the 200+ lumen range can be especially welcome. Many headlamps feature separate spot and flood LEDs, and in many cases one or the other can be selected by the user, or in this case (the Black Diamond Spot) both can be selected simultaneously. Beam Pattern Don’t forget to consider the beam pattern. A light with a flood beam is great for close up work, but won’t project very far into the distance. A spot beam projects far, but only illuminates a small area. Consider a light that allows you to switch between flood and spot using a diffuser or a light that compromises and has a flood beam with a center hotspot – my choice for the best of both worlds. More Lumen Related & Headlamp Information See our full article on How to Choose the Best Backpacking & Hiking Headlamp for more on headlamp selection. For a list of backpacking and hiking-ready headlamps on the market, see this page at REI Co-op. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 6 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

A piezo igniter is a push-button stove ignition system that is often integrated directly onto upright canister stoves for convenience and ease of use. The system works via use of a striker that hits a piezo-electric crystal, which generates electricity even when slightly deformed. When the ignition button is pushed the resulting electrical charge generates a spark. With the integrated ignition system there’s no need to hunt down your lighter or use matches – simply open your stove’s gas valve slightly and push the button to start your stove. This is especially beneficial on early morning wake up calls when a cup of coffee – and as fast as possible – is in order. With moving parts and a mechanism that can simply wear out however, piezo ignition systems can and do fail in the field on occasion (I subsequently always take backup methods); whether the convenience and slight extra weight is worth it is up to each one of us. On this example (MSR Pocket Rocket Deluxe) the piezo igniter is integrated directly on the side of the stove, and simply pushing the lever will light the stove with the valve simultaneously slightly open. Forms of Piezo Igniters for Backpacking Piezo igniters come in two forms – those attached and integrated into the stove and those that are a separate all in one item like the MSR handheld piezo igniter. Separate igniters have limited use; they can’t for example start a fire and are only designed to work with lighting stoves or items utilizing canister fuel. They can however be convenient, and don’t result in a singed thumb like you can sometimes get with a lighter. Editor's Note: This Jargon installment originally appeared in Issue 38 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

After an introduction to lightweight backpacking chairs a few years ago, my philosophy on this admittedly somewhat superfluous (but many times well worth the weight) camp comfort item has generally remained unchanged; on longer trips where I’m moving daily and pack weight is of more concern the chair stays behind and any rock or log will do. For the amount of time that you’re actually in camp – and not inside your tent – carrying the weight is simply not worth it. But mental and physical comfort levels on when the extra comfort is worth the weight of course, will vary. The Helinox Chair Zero is light enough – for most trips. How Light Does a Backpacking Chair Need to Be? On shorter less ambitious trips, winter trips with extra time in camp and long nights, or those trips where I’ll be setting up camp for more than just one night in the same place, I’ve found various chairs like the Monarch Chair from Alite Designs (review) and more recently the Helinox Ground Chair to add a substantial amount of comfort to the backcountry camping experience. But even on these trips, the weight of these chairs is still cause for pause when getting your pack ready the night before. The Helinox Chair Zero is a recent release from Helinox that focuses on reducing that weight concern further, along with increasing comfort and packability when you do decide to take a chair backpacking. The Chair Zero packs to a reasonable size, and assembles quickly. The Helinox Chair Zero Overall Design Like the Helinox Ground Chair, the Chair Zero has 4 legs for stability, but unlike the appropriately named Ground Chair the Chair Zero is designed for a higher, more upright sitting position (closer to a real chair) and through the use of a lighter weight, Dyneema gridstop fabric has managed to achieve a lighter weight all at the same time. Helinox specs the chair at 490 grams (17.3 ounces) without the stuff sack although many merchants list the chair as lighter. This weight range very much makes this a backpackable chair (and suitable for other outdoor activities in between backpacking trips for that matter, as well). On my scale I measured 17.2 ounces for the chair (4.4 for the fabric and 12.8 for the poles) and add another .7 ounces if you want to bring along the stuff sack (the stuff sack features one handed cord lock operation and even glow in the dark hardware). No backpacking chair is super lightweight (not taking a chair is the only option here), but the Chair Zero is quite light as far as backpacking chairs are concerned. To save a little weight, I don't take the stuff sack. The feet of the Helinox Chair Zero can be prone to sinking on soft ground. Pole Structure The shock-corded DAC aluminum pole frame of the chair assembles quickly, with the fabric seat attaching via pockets in 4 places (color coded – silver sides up, making the fabric of the chair easy to orient) with a slight amount of effort, while all breaking down into a compact unit to easily fit in a backpack. Wrapped up the chair easily fits in a random available spot towards the top of my ULA Circuit in the main compartment, although it's small enough for something like a side pocket. The chair will support up to 265 pounds – quite impressive for something collapsible and weighing in around just a pound, and the chair overall gives the impression of quality construction and feels solid in use. Compared to some other lightweight backpacking chair options, the seating position is more upright. Seating Position and Comfort I did find that there are pros and cons to the upright design of the chair and the support system that’s used compared to the Ground Chair that I’ve been using for the past couple years. With the higher sitting height (the seat is 11 inches off the ground), the new Chair Zero is much, much easier to get in and out of, so if the hiking miles have been taking a toll on your knees it would be an excellent choice, and even either way it takes less of a “technique” to use with the bonus sitting height. I do find the sitting position a bit less comfortable however – once you are there – it’s more of an upright place to sit compared to more of a lounger like the Ground Chair. Other Design Considerations Additionally the small surface area on the feet of the Zero, combined with the fact that most of the weight seems to be balanced on the rear legs, makes this chair more prone to sink into soft ground. Rocky and firm ground and / or lighter weight users might be ideal, but an available accessory, the Helinox Ground Sheet for the Zero can be used with a weight penalty. It should be noted that the lighter fabric seat of the Zero could, if you somehow ended up with both chairs, be used with the Ground Chair's support structure to save 3.3 ounces off the normal 21.75 ounce weight of the Helinox Ground Chair. The seat height is relatively high, which makes it easier to get in and out of the Chair Zero. Helinox Chair Zero: Conclusion & Final Thoughts With the pros and cons that are involved, it all obviously comes down to personal preference and without a doubt, where the Chair Zero excels most is in the all-important weight and packability departments – perhaps the most important part considering we are talking about taking a chair with us while hiking and backpacking, after all. In the end, the Zero turns out to be a very pack-friendly chair that will only add about a pound to your hikes, or to those backpacking trips where you think the extra ~pound is worth a comfortable place to sit at the end of the day. The Helinox Chair Zero retails for $140, but you can often find a deal here at REI, at Backcountry.com, and over on Amazon.com. The chair is also offered in highback and large versions – you can view all Helinox chairs here at REI.com.

I hear the wind approaching as it moves up the ridge. No other sound breaks the night's long silence, not even the rustle of a possum in the undergrowth. It is early autumn in a year of drought; perhaps the lack of water at this elevation keeps the critters away, which suits me fine. We took care to hang the bear bag high off the ground, regardless. Why tempt fate? I drift off, awakening later to an unmistakable sound a few feet away. Zzip! Opens the tent. Zzip! Closes the tent. It is Mary, up and around in the darkness. Without looking at my watch I know it is morning, but I am in no hurry. My sleep was restless, as it often is the first night or two on the trail. I listen to the activity and stay warm in the cocoon of my sleeping bag. Soon I hear Deb getting up and decide I had better move. Day is breaking. A backpacking campsite along the Ouachita Trail Soon we are back on the trail. Eight more miles today to finish this segment. Back home in the flatlands, that distance would take about 30 minutes for a cyclist, less than 90 minutes for an average runner, two to three hours for a brisk walker. For us, it will take a good half-day with fully loaded packs, here on the rugged terrain of the Ouachita Trail. Section Hiking the Ouachita Trail We are hiking the trail a section at a time. Its 223-mile length is divided into 10 segments, each easily hiked in a weekend. A long weekend, for those of us driving from Central Oklahoma to the southeastern part of the state to enjoy the remoteness and beauty of this National Recreation Trail. The “OT” begins at Talimena State Park, just outside Talihina, and stretches eastward into Arkansas through the Ouachita Mountains, the highest peaks from the Rockies to the Appalachians, topping out at 2,753 feet. Unlike its big brother in the Appalachians, traffic on the OT is light. Begin a section alone and you may well complete it without seeing another hiker. I cling to this feeling of being “in the wild.” The wildness is, of course, only relative, but it feeds a yearning in me. As a youth I explored the woods and ponds on the outskirts of my home town, defying frequent warnings of snakes and ticks. It was what I knew, and I made the most of it. My best friend and I would clamber over gates and squeeze between barbed wire, exploring the countryside. Cowpaths, oil roads, and an abandoned railway bed were our trails, when we weren’t bushwhacking (not that we knew that word). Stumbling upon a pumpjack or the remains of some old building excited our imaginations, and occasionally we found “treasures” in our explorations. Digging around in a pile of refuse near the railroad we retrieved vintage medicine bottles still in good condition; I have them to this day, displayed on my bookshelf, bearing witness to the truth of the adage, “One man’s trash . . . .” A creek trickling over the graduated layers of an abandoned rock quarry substituted for the waterfalls and lush, fern-filled streams I studied in my grandfather’s National Geographic and on the cover of my favorite three-ring school binder. Decades later, I have visited more beautiful places than I can recall, close to home and continents away. But rather than quelling the longing to be out in nature, time and experience seem to make it deeper, more urgent. Am I more keenly aware of the gift of God’s creation? Or of my own mortality? Assuredly, the pause it forces in a frenzied life cannot be discounted. Whatever its origin, this calling to be outside won’t leave me alone, and I am thankful that “my own backyard” provides an easy outlet. I can leave my home in the middle of Oklahoma early in the morning and be on the OT by mid-day. There, my mind is washed clean, attention only rarely drifting to anything beyond the journey. Intruding thoughts of responsibility are easily set aside in the sufficiency of the present. I am content to walk, talking with companions or hanging back to enjoy a solitary experience...watching the trail ahead for the next landmark, keeping an eye on the surface as I pick my way over rocks and roots, digging in with my hiking poles as I climb a steep slope, or stopping at a vista to absorb the long view over the mountains. I notice the forest change from hardwoods to pines as I move from the north side of the ridge to the south. Ferns and wildflowers appear where there is moisture, and I watch for the coy Mayapple and delicate Dwarf Crested Iris in the spring of the year. After miles of rocky trail, something as simple as a wide, level stretch with a soft covering of leaves or pine needles becomes a special treat for the feet, and a moss-covered path through a “wizard tree” grove seems magical. Then traversing the granite shards of a “rock glacier” is a welcome challenge. Occasionally the trail reveals an old road trace or sighting of an abandoned homestead. I see a lone chimney or the remnants of a stone wall and wonder, “Why here?” pondering what happened to the families who tried to scratch out a living in these rugged hills, now a land set aside for the pleasure of city folk who want to carry their stuff around on their backs for 20 or so miles and then go back to their leisure. Like me. The sun is warm on the back of my neck as we ascend another switchback, leaning heavily on our hiking poles. A walking stick drops on my arm, and I hurry to brush him off. These insects may be harmless but I find them distinctly unpleasant. Poison ivy lines the trail and will no doubt leave its itchy legacy. We are just at the cusp of hiking season, still a bit too early in the fall, so undergrowth and insects are part of the experience. Water is getting low and I am thankful we cached at Horsethief Springs. It is not far now, and I look forward to taking off my pack, knowing the rest is well earned. A faint Ouachita Trail winds its way through a wooded section of our route. Another Ouachita Trail Backpacking Trip Comes to an End Reaching the end of the trail is bittersweet. The satisfaction of completing another section is tempered by the knowledge that other obligations and adventures will delay my return. But while I am gone the Ouachitas will remain, the mountains unchanging in any span of time that I can perceive and the forest continually renewing itself in a timeless cycle. Need to Know Information The Ouachita Trail is primarily within the Ouachita National Forest and is administered by the US Forest Service. It traverses the Flatside Wilderness, the Upper Kiamichi Wilderness and several wildlife management areas. Camping is allowed anywhere along the trail, except near Queen Wilhelmina State Park and the last 30 miles on the eastern end. No permits are needed to hike or camp. Five campgrounds are located along the Ouachita Trail: Talimena State Park, Winding Stair, Queen Wilhelmina State Park, Big Brushy and Lake Sylvia. Shelters are located along the middle stretch of the trail, with new ones under construction on the western end. Best Time to Go Late fall, winter and early spring are typically best for cooler temperatures, minimal undergrowth and insects, fall colors and spring wildflowers. Getting There The western trailhead is at Talimena State Park near Talihina, Oklahoma, 142 miles southeast of Tulsa. The eastern terminus of the trail is near Little Rock, Arkansas. Multiple access points exist along the length of the trail. Maps You can find maps for the Ouachita Trail here at Amazon.com. Books Ouachita Trail Guide, 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 10 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

When it comes to outdoor recreation, Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada is known mostly for its interconnecting canoe routes and park maintained portages. While not its most popular pastime, those on foot will find a hidden gem of a trail system and a true Canadian wilderness experience. Over 2000 lakes dot the landscape, many offering good fishing opportunities, and with almost 2 million acres of this lake-filled forest, one could spend a lifetime exploring the various nuances of the park. The Backpacking & Hiking Trails of Algonquin For the backpacker seeking a maintained trail system, there are a few areas that we can focus on. The two most convenient trail systems are on the western side of the park off Highway 60 which intersects the Park west to east. A quiet sunset - backpacking in Algonquin Provincial Park The Western Uplands Trail The Western Uplands Trail will be your most remote option and provides 3 separate loops totaling nearly 70 miles of marked trail. Access the trail either from Highway 60, or from the Rain Lake access point on the northern end of the park which will require driving on a sometimes snowy and rough dirt road. This trail system will explore the terrain to the north of Highway 60. Wherever you hit the trail in Algonquin, you'll find wooded trails and quiet hiking, interspersed with lakes and views along the way. The Highland Trail The Highland Trail access can be found by driving east on 60 just a few miles from the Western Uplands Trailhead. Here you’ll find a 21 mile trail system exploring the southern side of the Park. This trail is also popular for winter activities like snowshoeing. Backcountry campsites are used more heavily compared to some other backcountry areas in Algonquin in our experience. Eastern Pines Trail Quite some distance across the Park farther to the east you’ll find the Eastern Pines Trail, an 11 mile trail system. Whatever option you choose, register with the park at headquarters or at the Kearney permit office (if using the Rain Lake access point) prior to departing, as permits are required – about $12 per person per night. Before your trip obtain the backpacking trails map supplied by the Park, as the staff will need to know your planned itinerary and campsite selections. A wintry backpacking trip on the Highland Backpacking Trail in Algonquin Provincial Park begins. Algonquin Provincial Park Hiking Resources Most literature that's out there is focused on canoeing the park, such as a Paddler's Guide to Algonquin Park. Another title worth looking at is The Explorer's Guide to Algonquin Park. Find a map of the park here. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 2 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

We were five days into a trek across Olympic National Park – at low elevation in mid-summer. Even though I was tired and about as cold as I think I've ever been, I was relishing the experience. I knew it was always the hard days that we remember most, and most of the days on this trip were hard. Really hard. And after this experience down at Cream Lake I knew I’d be able to tell a good story. We also remember the beautiful days. Our ten-day journey – our own take on a traverse of the Bailey Range – along trails and backcountry from Lake Crescent in the north of Olympic National Park to the Quinault River Basin in the south fulfilled both the “hard” and “beautiful” criteria in spades. The Bailey Range offers rugged terrain, challenging hiking, and rewarding views. When my son entered the world in December 2013, I knew 2014 was going to be a particularly difficult year to find time for adventure. I wanted a hike that was accessible, challenging both physically and mentally, and yet with an authentic “remoteness.” Ideally the route would travel through varying types of terrain, and it needed to be at low elevation as the timeframe was just too short to acclimatize to anything over 10,000 feet and still enjoy it. A Bailey Range Traverse Begins A traverse of the Bailey Range in Olympic National Park seemed to fit the bill perfectly. I had done day hikes in the old growth forests of the park and had hiked most of the 70 miles or so of wilderness coastline and I was in love. I knew I needed to delve much deeper into this magical place. The Bailey Range flanks Mt. Olympus, the tallest and most glaciated peak in the park. A classic traverse of the range leaves from the Sol Duc Trailhead, along trails up past Heart Lake and onto the High Divide. We wanted to extend the trip a bit, so decided to follow the first sections of the traverse as noted in Olympic Mountains: A Climbing Guide, the premier climbing/hiking book about the park. We’d take the Boulder Creek Trailhead to Boulder Lake and head backcountry from there to Appleton Pass and from Appleton Pass to Cat Basin before getting on the main portion of the Bailey Traverse. If time permitted, we hoped to finish by hiking the Skyline Ridge Trail instead of following the North Fork of the Quinault River down from the Low Divide. Unfortunately, the Boulder Creek Trailhead was closed due to a major dam removal project, so we started from Lake Crescent. After some crazy rental car logistics and a bus trip we started late in the afternoon of August 29th. On this trip we took and used a bear can as well as technical mountaineering gear, which combined added an additional five pounds and some bulk. That, along with ten days of food, made for a heavy pack and we were happy to make the first day a very short one. We had crossed over Barnes Creek on a 150-foot log bridge made from one single tree, and we camped next to the creek, surrounded by huge conifers and large leafy plants. Day 2 and Into the Olympics Day two involved a long climb of over 4,000 vertical feet up to the Aurora Ridge Trail to the Happy Lake Trail and finally to Boulder Lake. On our way up, as we reached about 4,000 feet of elevation, a layer of fog suddenly appeared in trees, unmoving, ghostlike, and magical. We hadn’t seen a soul the entire day and when we got to Boulder Lake, we camped on a peninsula surrounded on three sides by steep walls. Before hitting the sack, we heard another couple come in but never laid eyes on them. A Bailey Range traverse campsite. Day 3: Slow Going Day three was probably the most physically exhausting of the trip – and the slowest. Counting our break time, it took us nine hours to make it just six miles! Why so long? Were there technical sections, crazy river crossings and lots of vertical? Nope. There were blueberry bushes. Oh the deadly blueberry bushes. We climbed up and down, over rocks and ridges, past beautiful lakes and eventually to the Appleton Pass Trail just south of Appleton Pass. The entire off-trail route was covered in blueberry bushes, and as it was misting all day, it was slick. There was very little purchase for our feet, and it was all sloped downhill. The heavy packs didn’t help things. We were happy to set up camp when we reached Appleton Pass. Day 4: The Bailey Range Traverse Proper The next morning we were treated to an incredible sunrise on the surrounding peaks. Knowing that we didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, and that we didn’t want to be done before even starting the actual traverse, we chose to take a slightly longer but significantly easier route using trails. We followed the Appleton Pass Trail down to the Sol Duc River Trail where we climbed up to Heart Lake. Just above and beyond Heart Lake is the turnoff to the High Divide Trail, where the traverse of the Bailey Range really begins. From my understanding, the Civilian Conservation Corps created this trail before World War II. It follows along a ridge before skirting the edge of Cat Basin and then contours around Cat Peak. This trail is an incredible sight to behold as it’s cut right into a steep mountainside with the Hoh River Basin dropping dramatically to the south. Originally, the High Divide Trail was supposed to cross much of the Bailey Range and meet up with the trail at Dodger Point; however the project was abandoned at the beginning of WWII. Basically, the trail just ends at a drop-off and we had to climb up a very steep eroding way-trail for a few hundred feet to reach the shoulder of Cat Peak. According to many hikers, the next section was the crux. We had to cross the Catwalk, a technical arête which crosses between Cat Peak and Mt. Carrie. Many people camp at Boston Charlie’s, which is a camp located on the far (east) side of the Catwalk. But visibility was dropping, rain was coming in and the wind was blowing hard. We decided to save the Catwalk for the next morning and set up camp on the shoulder of Cat Peak just above the Catwalk. We knew water would be hard to come by so we had carried numerous liters up from Heart Lake. It turned out to be an interesting night. First, just as Jevan and I were discussing the fact that we probably wouldn’t see anybody else now that we were hitting the more remote portion of the trip, out popped two hikers who were coming from the Catwalk. We came to find out that it was a father and son team, and after spending a long time trying to cross the Catwalk in deteriorating conditions, they decided to turn around and ended up camping next to us. A Fifth Day in the Bailey Range The beginning of day five started out sunny and beautiful. From our ridge we were afforded our first incredible views of Mt. Olympus across the Hoh River Valley to our south. Low clouds filled the valley and the gigantic Blue Glacier radiated the early morning sun. Thinking we finally had a perfect day, we took our time getting ready. That was probably not the wisest decision, as the clouds and wind started rolling in by 9am and the day turned out to be the roughest and most emotionally and psychologically draining of the trip. The Catwalk began with a tricky traverse along the side of a ridge. The narrow trail fell away below. Once onto the arête, we had to make our way across some short but technical sections. Doing all this with a large pack made the going much tougher. The section was short but exhilarating and in less than 45 minutes from camp we were at Boston Charlie’s, which did indeed have water. Even though the Bailey Range traverse is technically a route, not a trail, enough people do it that there is an informal path for some of the way. We followed it as it contoured along the side of Mt. Carrie. The wind was picking up and by 11am we had 100-foot visibility, sideways rain with a constant 30mph wind and no shelter to speak of as the route was almost entirely above timberline. The trail became increasingly difficult as it crossed steep, wet, unconsolidated gullies. The temperature was probably in the upper 30’s but the wind-chill and rain made it feel much, much colder. Most people head down to Cream Lake. With limited visibility we continued contouring until the path petered out at a gully that was too steep to cross. Instead, we half walked, half butt-slid down a steep rocky streambed to a meadow and eventually to Cream Lake. During an extremely brief window when the rain stopped, we set up our tent on a gravel bar next to the lake. Typical for the Pacific Northwest, our traverse of the Bailey Range featured its share of moisture that turned to ice with overnight temperatures. Day 6 Luckily for us we woke to bright blue skies with a rapidly warming day. Our wet gear was coated with ice, and we put everything we owned out on the “beach” to dry. By noon we were finally feeling like ourselves again. We left Cream Lake around 1pm, thankful for a beautiful day and glad the last section was over. We followed an inlet stream up the valley and came within one hundred feet of a big bear that was slowly ambling by. He didn’t seem to care much about us and walked on past. Soon after, we were stymied by a steep wall with no real idea of where to go. After following the wrong stream for a while, we were able to get back on route and followed a ridge up to Ferry Basin where we set up camp above treeline next to a beautiful alpine lake. The lake was surrounded by incredible wildflowers, and as sunset approached, the clouds flowed up the valley toward us. Just when we thought we were going to be stuck in the middle of a cloud for the night, the fog was sucked back down the valley as it took on the bright pink hue of dusk. It was as if the air itself was glowing while the mountains took a final breath for the evening. Day 7: The Route Continues We woke the next morning in the cold rocky moonscape and continued on our route. As the day wore on Mt. Olympus seemed so close we could touch it and eventually we set up camp on the edge of the Queets Basin at what was without a doubt our most beautiful (and windiest) campsite of the trip. We climbed a small peak just to our east and took in a stunning sunset. We could see the ocean down the Queets River Basin and beautiful alpenglow shone off the snow-covered patches on nearby peaks. Our first day without having seen another person (Jevan had spotted a hiker on a nearby peak a day earlier) we climbed into our sleeping bags satisfied that this day exceeded our expectations for beauty and adventure. High alpine terrain on our Bailey Range traverse. Day 8 Day eight began sunny as we climbed down to Dodwell-Rixon Pass and said goodbye to the Bailey Range and headed down the Elwha Snow Finger. In a typical normal or high snow year, or in early season, hikers can make quick progress as they scamper down on top of the thick snowpack that fills the valley even in late summer. After a dry spring and hot summer, the Snow Finger had withered away. We traversed the snowfield for a few hundred feet and then alternated going around on the steep banks, rock-hopping and moving quickly past a number of huge snow bridges. A choke point in the river led to a steep scramble out of the valley and down to a meadow. We then bushwhacked through dense alders, waded across the river and finally reached the Elwha River Trail. We made quick progress down to Chicago Camp and up to the Low Divide. A Hike of the Bailey Range Comes to a Close We decided to finish by hiking the Skyline Ridge Trail. This was a last-second decision and we didn’t know anything about the trail. Luckily (or so we thought) we ran into a guy who had just come along that trail, gave us a bunch of beta and told us there was no water up to the high point, but plenty after that. Unfortunately for us, Washington was experiencing the hottest days of the summer. We stopped for lunch near a small tarn not far from Lake Beauty. By the end of lunch, it must have been over 100 degrees and after struggling for another hour up exposed (to the sun) rock, we decided to take a mid-afternoon siesta. Starting out again around 5 o’clock, we were able to enjoy the strange rocky moonscape below Kimta Peak. We arrived at Kimta Peak just as the sun was setting, and we were treated to a magnificently multi-hued sky as we watched the glowing orb set over the Pacific Ocean. We had already hiked about fifteen miles and were happy to do the final five mostly downhill to the Three Prune Campsite. Strangely, there had been plenty of water on the way up and we had carried too much. Having drunk most of it, however, we were glad to know there were plenty of water sources on the way down. For the first half mile along the ridge we had stunning, unobscured views to the west. Once the ambient light had fled and we were cruising through forest, we both came to the realization that our helpful hiker had led us astray. He had mixed up his directions and there was no water to speak of. Very thirsty and tired, we raced down the trail. By the time we arrived at camp, we were so tired that all we could do was drink up and pass out. The next day was a leisurely stroll through beautiful old growth forests, past the Three Lakes Campsite and out to the car with lighter packs and even lighter hearts. Need to Know Information Bear cans are required, but you can rent them very cheaply from the Olympic National Park ranger station (and they've got the lightweight Bearikades to use!). The higher portions of the route involve snowfield and possible glacier travel. You'll also need to get a backcountry permit and give your itinerary to the rangers before heading out. Getting There There are numerous places to start, but if you're going from the north, you can base your operations out of Port Angeles. There are supermarkets and outdoor gear stores as well as a ranger station. If you leave from Lake Crescent as we did, you can catch a public bus to the trailhead. The closest major airport is in Seattle and you'll probably want to take the ferry over to the Olympic Peninsula. There is no public transportation to the southern trailhead at either the North Fork Quinault River Trail or the Irely Lakes Trail just down the road so you'll need to drop a car or arrange for a pickup. Best Time to Go It depends on the year, but most hiking in the high alpine sections of the park have a short window from July through early September if you don't want to be dealing with much snow. Maps and Books I used Caltopo.com to print my own maps on waterproof paper. I also carried the National Geographic Trails Illustrated map of Olympic National Park and I used a phone app on my smartphone, which allows you to download detailed topo maps prior to your trip and utilize the GPS functionality of your phone without cell service. For books see Olympic Mountains: A Climbing Guide. For a more general guidebook on the park, see Hiking Olympic National Park. Editor's Note: This article Eli Burakian originally appeared in an online magazine form in TrailGroove Magazine and has been republished here.

Finding a great backpacking sleeping pad is the next logical step in getting your backpacking gear all set once you’ve decided on the big 3 (tent, sleeping bag, backpack). The sleeping pad rounds out what’s known as the big 4 in backpacking – and this list makes up some of the most important gear you’ll carry, both in regards to its importance on the trail, and includes the most expensive and usually heaviest items where the most weight can be saved. In this guide, we’ll look at the best backpacking sleeping pads that you can find on the market today. Note that in this guide, we’ll list the specs for the regular size if possible (generally 72x20 inches) and list the r-value as well – the higher the value the warmer the pad. Best Summer & Ultralight Backpacking Sleeping Pads For those that are looking to focus on a summer season specific sleeping pad and / or are looking for an ultralight solution for warmer seasons, there are a few standout choices on the market that weigh less than a pound. First, if you’re a backpacker just looking for set and forget type reliability and if you’re the type of sleeper that can find comfort in just about any flat place, the venerable closed cell foam sleeping pad could work, and will save some cash as well. The Therm-a-Rest Z Lite SOL (14 ounces, $60, 2.0 r-value), is a folding foam pad that makes packing easier (but as a foam pad, still bulky). This pad is a little light on the r-value, but would be sufficient for summer trips with moderate lows well above freezing. The NEMO Switchback folding pad (15 ounces, $60, 2.0 r-value) is a competing option in this regard and worth equal consideration. For more, see our review of the NEMO Switchback. These foam pads are also great as a sit pad outside the tent and on breaks during the hiking day. Most backpackers will want more sleeping comfort than a foam pad can offer however. For the lightest of the ultralight insulated inflatable sleeping pads, look no further than to the NEMO Tensor Elite (9 ounces, $230, 2.4 r-value). This new for 2025 pad will offer warmth for summer trips above freezing for most people and offers inflatable comfort, albeit in a mummy shape – this pad is all about saving weight. It should be noted that this pad utilizes 10 denier shell fabrics; extra care will need to be exercised. NEMO also offers their Tensor Trail Ultralight (14 ounces, $180, 2.8 r-value) that doesn’t quite have the warmth to weight of some of their other pads that we’ll discuss later, but this pad is a bit lighter and makes this category. The NEMO valve system allows for easy inflation, deflation, and fine-tuning of comfort level. Exped has offered some of our favorite sleeping pads over the years, and in this category they offer their 1R and 3R pads, with both coming in either mummy or rectangular designs. The Exped Ultra 1R mummy sleeping pad (11 ounces, $120, 1.3 r-value) isn’t insulated, and with this low of an r-value this will only be suitable for the warmest of summer trips. The rectangular version hits the scales a couple ounces heavier. Ever since the Synmat series, Exped has offered value and all-around sleeping pad performance. To me, the Exped Ultra 3R insulated pad (13 ounces, 2.9 r-value, $140) is a much more interesting pad. I’ve taken predecessors of this pad down to freezing or just a bit below, and lower than that combined with a thin ultralight foam pad (1/8" CCF foam). Again, Exped makes a rectangular 3R as well, but at a pound we are perhaps delving into the category to follow. However for me the leader in this category would be the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite NXT (13 ounces, $210, 4.5 r-value) and this is an interesting pad because it’s also a leader in our next category as well. This pad has the ultralight weight that puts it in this category, and with the 4.5 r-value you likely won’t need to worry about warmth on summer trips. Looking for an ultralight pad for fast and light summer trips but that also packs warmth for the shoulder seasons? It’s a tall task to beat this pad for that type of use case. Summary: Best Summer & Ultralight Backpacking Sleeping Pads Therm-a-Rest Z Lite SOL NEMO Switchback NEMO Tensor Elite NEMO Tensor Trail Ultralight Exped Ultra 1R Exped Ultra 3R Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite NXT Best 3-Season and All-Around Sleeping Pads This is your all-around, bread and butter sleeping pad category. While weights may not be the most ultralight due to the needed increase of r-value for 3-season and shoulder season temperatures, recent advances in sleeping pad technology (it all started with the original Therm-a-Rest NeoAir) have allowed for some very intriguing options to hit the market. Weights here are generally around a pound or just a little more, with insulation that should be good to freezing or a bit below. Choices in this category can be quickly narrowed down to just a few options. The best options include the NEMO Tensor All Season sleeping pad (around $200, 1lb) which is an excellent choice for 3-season use where warmth is appreciated, but it still might get chilly to below freezing at night with a possible cold snap taking things down to the 20s or below, or for cold sleepers any time of the year. With a 5.4 r-value and a rectangular sleeping shape, this pad has a warmth to weight to sleeping and packing space ratio that would have seemed impossible a decade ago. The NEMO Tensor All Season is my pick as the top overall sleeping pad currently on the market. For those looking to save more weight, the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite NXT ($210, 13 ounces in the regular mummy, 4.5 r-value) again gets the weight down to an even more ultralight level with sufficient warmth for 3-season trips, and will save some space in the tent and pack if needed. This pad is also available in a rectangular shape – the NeoAir NXT MAX, which would be my choice if going with the NeoAir in this category, for the additional comfort. While the NeoAir line comes with an inflation bag that works well, it’s unfortunately not adequate to utilize as a dry sack for gear, as can be found in the Exped Schnozzel. That said it is included, and any inflatable pad these days should come with some type of inflation bag / solution. Inflation bag included with NEMO sleeping pads The great thing about these two pads is that they are light enough to be very justifiable for summer trips, have the warmth needed for shoulder season use, and can even be used for winter backpacking if you add in a foam pad to your system to boost the total r-value. Summary: Best 3-Season and All-Around Sleeping Pads NEMO Tensor All Season Therm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite NXT Therm-a-Rest NeoAir NXT MAX Best Winter Backpacking Sleeping Pads If you’re looking for a dedicated winter backpacking sleeping pad however, pads from NEMO and Therm-a-Rest again rise to the top. The NEMO Tensor Extreme Conditions Ultralight Insulated sleeping pad (18 ounces, $250, 8.5 r-value) isn’t the most lightweight in length of name but offers a very impressive weight to r-value specification and comes in multiple shapes and sizes. The NeoAir XTherm NXT sleeping pad (16 ounces, $240, 7.3 r-value in the regular mummy) from Therm-a-Rest is available in either a weight saving mummy shape (previous link) or in their XTherm MAX version in a larger, more comfortable rectangular version. These pads are very impressive on the spec sheet and in regards to warmth to weight ratio, achieving a warmth to weight to bulk combo that would have seemed impossible to achieve a couple decades ago. However, I prefer to use my all-around 3-season type sleeping pads combined with foam pads (Therm-a-Rest RidgeRest, etc.) for winter backpacking. The r-values add up, and the foam pad offers some redundancy in extremely cold conditions. Summary: Best Winter Backpacking Sleeping Pads Tensor Extreme Conditions UL Insulated NeoAir XTherm NXT XTherm MAX Add-on Closed Cell Foam Pads Most Comfortable Backpacking Sleeping Pads & Best Wide / Long Options When comfort is the most important consideration (although keep in mind no matter how cushy, you won’t be comfortable if you’re cold), the Therma-a-Rest NeoLoft sleeping pad ($240) will be hard to beat. This larger air mattress has nearly 5” of height, but is still reasonably backpackable at 25 ounces. With a 4.7 r-value this pad should still keep you warm in 3-season type conditions. If you’re backpacking in, but will then be setting up a basecamp for a few days, this pad might be up your alley. For me however, I don’t quite need to go up to NeoLoft level to find comfort on the trail and thus can save a bit of weight. I like to look for a pad long enough so my feet don’t hang off the end, and wide enough that as a toss and turn side-sleeper I don’t have to worry about falling off the side. The previously mentioned NEMO Tensor All Season sleeping pad – but in the long wide version, or the NeoAir XLite NXT MAX (in the large) are leading backpacking sleeping pad comfort contenders here. 25” wide pads are appreciated in this regard, along with a pad that is slightly longer than your height combined with a good backpacking pillow. Note that any inflatable sleeping pad will be made warmer and more comfortable if you add a closed cell foam pad underneath. If you’re only using an air pad, you’ll usually want to inflate fairly firmly for more warmth, but if using a foam pad under it you can deflate the pad to a softer firmness while still having sufficient warmth in typical conditions. And, if you toss and turn at night – instead of bottoming out the pad on hard ground, even a thin foam pad will add a surprising amount of cushion for your hips. It should also be noted that while a very niche item, if you’re looking for a 2 person backpacking sleeping pad the Exped Ultra 3R Duo (29-41 ounces, $250, 2.9 r-value) is an intriguing choice with separate inflation chambers for each person and in Exped fashion, is a compelling choice across the board. Summary: Most Comfortable Backpacking Sleeping Pads Therma-a-Rest NeoLoft NEMO Tensor All Season (in larger sizes) NeoAir XLite NXT MAX (size large) Add-on Closed Cell Foam Pads Exped Ultra 3R Duo (for two) Best Budget Backpacking Sleeping Pads If the latest greatest technology and spreadsheet leaders aren’t your thing, more budget-oriented sleeping pads in the $150 or less range are without a doubt quite workable. A venerable choice has been the Exped line – this line has a great valve system, vertical baffles that I find help keep you on the pad, and larger outer baffles to keep you centered. The Exped Ultra 3R insulated sleeping pad (16 ounces, $140, 2.9 r-value) is my choice in this category. This pad is warm enough for 3-season backpacking, can be used as part of a system with additional foam pads in winter, and won’t break the bank. The Ultra line from Exped and their predecessor from Exped (Synmat series) have been part of my backpacking gear repertoire for years, as they offer a nice blend of warmth, weight, comfort, ease of use, and price. If price however is of paramount importance, look to the Therm-a-Rest RidgeRest, the Therm-a-Rest Z Lite SOL, or the NEMO Switchback. These foam pads will not be the most comfortable, and depending on the sleeper may only be barely better than nothing in the comfort department, but they do add 3-season warmth and will get the job done for around $60 or less. That said, for deals on usually more expensive inflatable pads from time to time, it’s worth checking at the REI Co-op Outlet. Summary: Best Budget Backpacking Sleeping Pads Exped Ultra 3R Therm-a-Rest RidgeRest Therm-a-Rest Z Lite SOL NEMO Switchback REI Co-op Outlet Sleeping Pads In Conclusion Finding the right sleeping pad is important on the trail, both for warmth and for comfort. To some extent this all goes hand in hand – while comfort is more than just warmth, you can’t be comfortable no matter how cushy the sleeping pad if you’re cold. When I look for a sleeping pad I look for the lightest weight sleeping pad that will keep me comfortable and warm on backpacking trips, and one that is also sufficiently durable while meeting the budget while also being easy to use. You can find a complete selection of backpacking sleeping pads mentioned in this article along with additional choices here at REI Co-op. For more on sleeping pads take a look at our article: Choosing the Best Backpacking Sleeping Pad. For more on the “Big 3” of backpacking gear, see our articles: Best Backpacking Tents by Application and Budget and Best Backpacking Sleeping Bags, as well as our Best Backpacking Backpacks Guide.

The early-season opportunity to bike portions of Going to the Sun in Glacier National Park without any automobile traffic seems too good to be true. Miles of paved road passing alongside streams rushing with snowmelt, climbing into the high country, weaving through lush forests – all behind a gate and open only to bicycles and foot traffic. I’ve done enough recreational road biking and bike commuting to develop a sincere appreciation of a smooth surface, hard tires, and minimal traffic through beautiful landscapes but rarely plan trips around bicycling. Instead, like most backpackers, I plan my trips around trails. So it was a bit counter-intuitive to spend an extra day after a work trip that took me within an hour of Glacier National Park with the goal of spending an afternoon bicycling on pavement instead of putting my feet on a trail. As someone who typically hikes and backpacks in wilderness areas or the more remote areas of national forest, the hustle and bustle of national parks is always a bit amusing to me. Arriving early in the afternoon on an overcast Saturday, I was able to get one of the last sites at Sprague Creek Campground (which filled up later in the evening) and awkwardly set up camp inside my vehicle before prepping for the ride up Going to the Sun Road. The forecast called for rain overnight and into the next day, with temperatures in the upper 30s in the morning. Needless to say, sleeping in the back of a Honda Element was a much more luxurious option than packing up a wet tent in a cold rain the next morning. Lake McDonald, Glacier National Park Biking Going to the Sun Road Rolling out of the campground on my trusty touring bike was a blissful feeling. No more driving for the rest of the evening, just turning pedals and trying to keep my eyes on the road as mountains, waterfalls, and expansive valleys competed for my attention. The first few miles from the campground to Avalanche Creek were open to vehicles, but traffic was fairly light considering it was a weekend. Once past the gate at Avalanche Creek, the real fun began. There were plenty of other cyclists, but no other cars. None. No looking over the shoulder, no low-level anxiety about inattentive drivers, no exhaust fumes. Just open road and other cyclists. Given my late start, many of the cyclists I saw were on the downhill stretch of their ride while I labored up the mellow grade towards Logan Pass. The temperature was in the mid-50s, which was perfect for biking steadily uphill. The flip side was that coming downhill would be rather chilly, so my saddlebags bulged with two pairs of gloves, a synthetic puffy jacket, and rain gear. Rather than hindering the view, the overcast sky and low hanging clouds made for dramatic lighting and a backdrop for the peaks that enhanced instead of obscured the mountains. The steeper sections of the climb to Logan Pass, especially those after The Loop, gave me plenty of time to concentrate on the surrounding panorama as I doggedly progressed toward the snow line. The road is open to cyclists as far as they would like to go and the natural place to turn around is where plowing has ended and several feet of snow remain. I took a few victory pictures at the snowline, which was around 17 miles from the campground and over 2,000 feet higher. The descent was simply thrilling. Watching mountain scenery sped by as I flew downhill at a safe but respectable clip without having to worry about inconveniencing motorists was sublime and, sadly, came to and end all too quickly. Miles that had taken me over two hours to gain were lost in a quarter of the time and I soon found myself pedaling easily along the flatter sections towards Lake McDonald and the campground. Although my car camping skills were a bit rusty, I had made an effort in regard to food and drink. Soon after pulling back into camp, I was snacking on cheese and crackers, sipping wine, and waiting for water to boil for a heaping serving of ravioli and pesto. Views of Lake McDonald made my al fresco dining experience five-star. Once dinner was over, the increasingly dreary weather and my tired muscles compelled me to get in my sleeping bag fairly early. The next morning I awoke to enjoy the fruits of my decisions, both good and bad. Sleeping in the vehicle was a good decision, as a cold rain poured over the campground while I made coffee from the comfort of my sleeping bag. Not stretching in any meaningful sense after returning to camp was not a good decision, especially combined with a four-hour drive home. But perhaps the best decision was to have broken out of my hiking-only focus on outdoor recreation that had been all-consuming in recent months. The ride the previous day was one of the most soul-swelling and rejuvenating things I could recall doing recently. That recognition inspired another decision that morning – a goal to make an early-season ride on Going to the Sun Road an annual event. Need to Know Information The park’s webpage on bicycling, which also contains links to the Road Status page, is the best place to get started on planning your bicycling trip. Best Time to Go Mid-May to June offer pleasant weather and most of the road should be open to bikes by then, although this depends on the year and plowing progress made by road crews. Weekends are best because the road crews are not working, but can be a bit more crowded. Getting There Bicyclists can start in West Glacier and travel east, or at St. Mary and travel west. Beginning in mid-May a free shuttle with room for bikes runs from Apgar near West Glacier to Avalanche Creek (where the vehicle closure is typically in place). Maps The basic park brochure map is sufficient for this adventure. Alternatively Trails Illustrated 215 is better suited for additional exploration in the park. This map is also available in combination with the Best Easy Day Hikes in Glacier National Park Falcon Guide. You can find that bundle here at Amazon.

Our campsite in Buffington Pockets, Falling Man, and some of the many petroglyphs we saw on the trip.

Carpets of emerald green moss blanketing volcanic slopes; steam escaping through the earth’s crust, depositing hot water in natural pools; glaciers and colorful rhyolite mountains; lush growth in a stunted forest…the Laugavegur Trail through Iceland’s southern highlands offers a visual feast and an epic hike. I first hiked the popular thirty-four-mile trail in 2015 and had often thought of going back. The opportunity presented itself in 2022, when I learned of a new trekking route in the same general area as Laugavegur but a bit farther east. The idea of seeing a slightly different perspective was appealing and, along with my daughter-in-law, Jessica, put the trek on my calendar for late July. Like my hike seven years earlier, it would be a hut-to-hut walk, staying in Iceland’s well-organized system of forty rustic, communal mountain huts, dispersed all over the island. Though basic, these cabins offer warm, dry, and welcoming shelter from Iceland’s volatile weather. But at the last minute, unexpected environmental conditions made our new route impassable. My contact in Iceland, Einar Westlund, a former hiking guide, said there was lots of water in the rivers, more river crossings than usual, and the ice bridges we would have relied on had melted. It would not be safe to attempt the new route so the alternative was to do the Laugavegur Trail again. Airline tickets already purchased, Jessica and I were committed, so Laugavegur it was. A Second Trip to the Laugavegur Trail Begins The change required a quick pivot for me. I was already away from home when we got the news, having driven to South Dakota from Oklahoma to meet my husband Bill, who had been traveling on his motorcycle out west. I would be flying to Iceland from Rapid City rather than our home base of Oklahoma City. Anticipating a hut-to-hut trip, I had packed only a light sleeping bag and no sleeping mat, since the huts have bunks or at least mattresses. But with the last-minute change we would have to camp part of the time, requiring much warmer sleeping bags. Fortunately, we would be able to rent a tent and mats in Iceland, and I was able to nab Bill’s twenty-degree sleeping bag, which he’d been using for camping in the mountains. We were all set, or so it seemed. Then, two days before my departure, Bill broke his leg riding a motorcycle up a rocky hillside in the Black Hills. At the emergency room in Rapid City, we waited to hear how bad it was. It was a relief to learn that, though bad enough, it was not so bad that Bill needed me to cancel my trip. The fracture of his left tibia was non-displaced and he insisted he could drive himself home in our pickup. Feeling guilty but not terribly so, I flew out of Rapid City on schedule and arrived in Reyjkavik, where I waited for Jessica’s arrival from Oklahoma City. She showed up not long after but, unfortunately, her luggage did not. She was wearing her hiking boots and backpack, so at least she had those essentials. At the hotel, I identified several items I could loan her and the next day we went shopping for others. Meanwhile her husband (my son), Mark, was trying to track down her bag and figure out how to get it to her once we started our trek. Finally, early the following morning, as geared up as we were going to get, we trudged to the bus stop with one large duffel carrying both our gear to head for the trailhead. After a four-hour bus ride, we arrived at Landmannalaugar, the starting point for the Laugavegur hike and a spectacular place to visit on its own. Located within the Fjallabak Nature Reserve, Landmannalaugar is on the edge of the Laugahraun lava field, formed by an eruption in about 1477. After setting up camp we hiked to the nearby crater of Stutur and walked around its rim, a good warm-up for the days to come, with expansive views and the first chance in several days to get our heart rates elevated. The highlight of our stay in Landmannalaugar was the hot spring. There, as hot water surfaces from beneath the lava, it mixes with cold streams and fills a natural lagoon, resulting in a comfortable soaking temperature around 96 to 104 degrees Fahrenheit. The Icelandic name Landmannalaugar translates to the “People’s Pool,” referring to the long history of this remote oasis serving as shelter and respite for tired travelers of earlier days. That night, it never really got dark; it was, after all, late July in Iceland, truly the land of the midnight sun, where the day is nineteen hours long and the darkness is mostly just twilight. Our first day of hiking offered the most elevation change on the hike, which I had erroneously remembered as “mostly flat,” a common problem for me unless I’m talking about something memorably steep like the Grand Canyon. Landmannalaugar sits at just under 2,000 feet elevation and from there the trail ascends for six miles on black obsidian slopes and across snowfields to about 3,400 feet at the Hrafntinnusker Hut, our first day’s destination. The landscape along the way is otherworldly, with steam escaping the earth and geothermal pools making it obvious that this place is nothing if not actively volcanic. Hrafntinnusker was one of the huts where we were lucky enough to get accommodations, and given that this is one of the colder spots along the trail, we were happy for a bed out of the weather. It was rainy and cold the next day as we started our nine and one-half-mile trek to Hvanngil. We walked downhill most of the way, back to a little less than 2,000 feet. Today we experienced the first of numerous river crossings, which we would learn to take seriously. The swift current of the cold glacial streams can sweep you off your feet in a moment and we came to appreciate the value of taking small steps, using our trekking poles, and relying on another hiker’s strong arm if necessary. Arriving at Hvanngil, we had two unexpected treats. One was that we were able to nab spots in the hut that night. But, even better was that Jessica’s bag had been located and delivered to the hut, way out there on the trail. It was the best moment of the trip, seeing the smile on her face when she saw her duffel. Jessica had not been letting it get her down, but having her own things clearly brought her great (and well-deserved) joy. The next day, trekking seven and one-half miles to Emstrur at Botnar, the path was fairly level. Along the way we enjoyed the sights: bright green moss, a profusion of wild flowers, and a black desert of lava. We had lunch out of the wind next to a roaring waterfall and, just before reaching Emstrur for the night, took a short side trip to gaze upon the breathtaking gorge of the Markarfljot River. Mild weather made for comfortable camping that night at Emstrur. A Final Day and Night Hiking the Laugavegur Trail The next morning we left for Thorsmork, “The Valley of Thor.” With an eleven-mile hike ahead of us, it would be our longest day. We descended to less than 1,000 feet of elevation and as we approached Thorsmork, we saw, for the first time along the trail, trees. Iceland’s landscape is mostly barren of trees, having been deforested after the Vikings’ arrival. Attempts to reforest the island are inhibited by the poor soil. But in Thorsmork, the topography of the valley, nestled among three glaciers, creates a warm microclimate, resulting in lush vegetation of moss, ferns and, most notably, birch trees. The warmer weather and beautiful scenery made our last night of camping a joy. After hiking to the peak of Valahnakur the next morning, we caught the bus back to Reykjavik, then spent an extra day sightseeing. As if we hadn’t had enough drama, we learned that day that the Fagradalsfjall Volcano was about to erupt. Located between Reykjavik and the Keflavik airport, an eruption had the potential to disrupt air travel or prevent our reaching the airport. I was a bit on pins and needles about it but, as it turned out, the volcano waited two days after we left to spew its gases and molten lava. A week later, it was the biggest tourist attraction in Iceland, suggesting that, in a weird sort of way, we missed out. All’s well that ends well, and in this case, it ended very well. Iceland is a top-notch hiking destination with scenery like no place else, and in my case, twice may not be enough. Need to Know Information The Laugavegur Trail is moderate in difficulty. Except for the elevation gain on the first day and the river crossings, the trail is not particularly challenging. It is very well marked and the typical four-day schedule keeps hiking distances to an average of 8.5 miles per day. Laugavegur is usually hiked from north to south, as it has a slightly downward slope in that direction. Accommodations are limited to huts or their adjacent campsites. Both are operated by FÍ (the Icelandic Touring Association). Hut size and comfort varies, but all offer mattresses or bunks to sleep on, toilets, running water and a communal kitchen. They are heated by gas or geothermal energy, but there is no electricity. Be sure to book in advance here. The weather in Iceland is unpredictable, with the potential for rain, wind and cold temperatures and even snow, even in the summer months. Come suitably prepared. Numerous reputable trekking companies provide guided hikes with luggage transfer and this is something I highly recommend. Best Time to Go The Laugavegur Trail is only open from late June to mid-September. The exact dates depend on the weather. The trailhead and some of the huts are accessed by gravel “F-roads” which are closed during the winter months. The best time to hike the trail is July and August. Earlier or later, you may not be able to access the trail. Getting There Fly into Keflavik airport, about forty-five minutes west of Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland and its largest city. Reykjavik is a clean, friendly city with abundant hotels and restaurants. Bus service to the trailhead is readily available. See here. Maps and Books For a good read on Icelandic culture, see How Iceland Changed the World by Egill Bjarnason. Specific information and a map of the Laugavegur Trail can be found in the guidebook Trekking Iceland's Laugavegur Trail & Fimmvorduhals Trail and via the Iceland's Laugavegur Trail & Fimmvorduhals Trail map. National Geographic also offers their Iceland Adventure Travel map. 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 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-Parashunt National Monument We were a bit ahead of schedule, so Melissa suggested that we go east to visit part of Grand Canyon-Parashunt 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-Parashunt 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.

An important core backpacking gear item, your backpacking sleeping bag needs to be light enough to carry easily, pack small enough so as to not take over your entire pack, and most importantly keep you warm and comfortable at night. In this guide we’ll focus on the best backpacking sleeping bags currently on the market by temperature rating. As this is a backpacking focused article weight of the sleeping bag and warmth to weight ratio will be of a paramount focus here, with down bags ruling the roost. For a basecamp scenario, synthetic bags would be worth consideration. See our guide on down vs. synthetic insulation for more information and background. For the purposes of this article, we will focus on features, weight, and performance. Best 30F+ & Summer Rated Backpacking Sleeping Bags This can be a complicated category with many options. Bags in this range can be very light, but early morning hours can be a bit crisp and ample warmth will be appreciated during the night. My pick hands down would be the Zpacks Classic 30 degree sleeping bag. Weighing in at just 14 ounces and going for $440, this bag is made with DownTek 900 fill power water resistant down and is available in 7 different sizes. Going to a hoodless sleeping bag (I mostly use the Zpacks 20 degree) has changed my backcountry sleeping for the better – now I can turn with the bag, or inside the bag, no matter. Additionally with the zipper on the bottom maximum heat is retained and you have no zipper at the top (leaking the most hot air) no matter if you’re a back sleeper or a side sleeper. In milder conditions above the shoulders just a warm hat works well for me, but if it gets cold at night you can add in an additional goose hood. Traditional top-tier manufacturers include Feathered Friends and Western Mountaineering. When it comes to Western Mountaineering, they offer a variety of bags in this category, many that don’t have much difference between each other from a big picture point of view. Their MegaLite 30 degree sleeping bag weighs in at 24 ounces and is a nice option if you like more traditional design features. The MegaLite uses 850 fill down and is a wider bag with a passive draft collar that I’ve found is sufficient down to around freezing. Western Mountaineering bags aren’t cheap – the MegaLite will set you back about $600 – but with proper care these are bags that will last darn near forever. For slimmer users and in warmer conditions one could consider the Western Mountaineering SummerLite (around $500, 19 ounces) – although we’ve found this one starts to take on a chill as temperatures close in towards the freezing mark, it would be ideal for warmer nights. Both the MegaLite and SummerLite from Western Mountaineering feature a fully baffled construction (the bag is not sewn through to create the baffles – a sewn through bag results in a lighter and possibly less expensive construction but will have cold spots when temperatures drop). The Western Mountaineering FlyLite is a newer bag that is an option for warmer weather trips – it’s rated to 36 degrees, weighs just ~14 ounces in a standard width, and retails for just over $500. This makes it the lightest fully baffled bag Western Mountaineering offers. Draft tubes, draft collars, continuous baffles, and so on are not as critical during warmer conditions and their omission can save weight, but I find I've always appreciated these features in the field. Feathered Friends additionally offers top of the line down sleeping bags including the Hummingbird UL 30 ($550, about 22 ounces). This is a narrower bag (saves weight, more efficient) so keep that in mind, but if you’ll fit, as with Western Mountaineering this 950 fill power down bag is expensive but worth it. For women Feathered Friends offers their Egret UL 30 ($550, about 24 ounces) with an even narrower cut but in a more women’s-specific shape. Wider bags from Feathered Friends include the Swift UL 30 ($580, about 26 ounces) and the more middle of the road width wise Swallow UL 30 (24 ounces, $570). It will be hard to go wrong with a Feathered Friends bag, so long as you get the right fit. Another option is the REI Co-op Magma 30 (averaging around 25 ounces, $380) – offered in no less than 9 sizes for an almost custom type of fit, this bag keeps it lightweight via use of an 850 fill power water resistant down, standard features, and you even get an interior pocket. While of all of my backpacking gear a down sleeping bag is one place where I would not try to cut budget, this is one bag that could be considered more in the budget category if you catch it on sale. Summary: Best 30F+ & Summer Rated Sleeping Bags (and rating F) Zpacks Classic 30 Western Mountaineering MegaLite (30) Western Mountaineering SummerLite (32) Western Mountaineering FlyLite (36) Feathered Friends Hummingbird UL 30 Feathered Friends Egret UL 30 Feathered Friends Swift UL 30 Feathered Friends Swallow UL 30 REI Co-op Magma 30 Best 20 Degree Range Sleeping Bags Everything in nature seems to change below freezing, and at these temperatures I find that it becomes more important to consider those extra features like a nice draft tube and hood, with a draft collar being very much appreciated. For me and many others that backpack mostly in mountain terrain, the 20 degree bag gets the most use 3 seasons out of the year. These are your bread and butter sleeping bags, and from my perspective if you’re looking for the best sleeping bag in this category, you’ll likely be looking at the same brands we’ve previously discussed. Feathered Friends offers their versatile Hummingbird UL 20 (24 ounces, $610) – with the Feathered Friends Egret 20 (~28 ounces, around $610) being a women’s-specific option in this temperature range. These are narrower bags to save the most weight. However, if you like a little more space in a bag as I do, check out the Swallow UL 20 (27 ounces, $630). In regards to Western Mountaineering, we can narrow this down to the venerable UltraLite 20 degree (29 ounces, $630) – which is your narrow / standard option – and the wider and perhaps more comfortable 20 degree AlpinLite (31 ounces, $710). Although it’s a bit heavier the AlpinLite’s space wins out for me out of these two bags, but as with Feathered Friends, you can’t go wrong here. That said as previously mentioned and although I have had many a comfortable backcountry night in a WM AlpinLite, my preference for a backpacking sleeping bag has evolved towards the hoodless category. The Zpacks 20 Degree Classic sleeping bag (~19 ounces, $460) is my current choice for a bag in this temperature range – I find at these temperatures a hoodless bag is ideal (so long as I wear the warm hat I already take and wear a jacket with a hood). You can find my review of the Zpacks 20 here, although Zpacks has since updated the bag just a bit with upgrades. Zpacks again also offers their goose hood, but with a warm hat and jacket hood, I haven’t personally needed this until temps fall below 20. That said if you’re not ready to give up your sleeping bag hood, Zpacks also offers their 20 degree Mummy sleeping bag (23 ounces in medium standard, $580) with a built-in traditional hood. When on sale, for a more budget option in this category we’ll go ahead and put the REI Co-op Magma 15 in this category (comfort limit: 21 degrees). With a weight of around 36 ounces depending on size and retailing at $429 full price, this bag offers a very reasonable weight in 9 different sizes for a tailored fit, and at a very reasonable price especially if you catch it on sale. Summary: Best 20 Degree Range Sleeping Bags Feathered Friends Hummingbird UL 20 Feathered Friends Egret UL 20 Feathered Friends Swallow UL 20 Western Mountaineering UltraLite (20) Western Mountaineering AlpinLite (20) Zpacks 20 Degree Classic Zpacks 20 Degree Mummy REI Co-op Magma 15 Best Winter and Cold Weather (Zero and 10 Degree) Sleeping Bags I find that it’s more versatile to have 2 warmer rated bags, combining them to form a winter sleep system when needed for cold winter trips rather than keeping a bag from this category on hand. As an example, I’ve combined a 20 degree and a more summer-oriented bag and stayed warm (with appropriate sleeping pads and a total r-value for the temperature) on winter trips nearing minus 20F. That said if you have one 3 season bag that covers all seasons other than winter, sleep especially cold and want a warmer bag for 3 season mountain trips, or are looking to add in a dedicated winter bag, a bag in this category may be desired. Same players, different temperature ratings again here. The 2lb., $735 Western Mountaineering VersaLite 10 degree sleeping bag is a solid choice on the warmer end of this category. One nice thing about the Versalite is that it’s in the middle width-wise – just right. Going back a bit to their 20 degree options, if the UltraLite was a bit too tight, and the AlpinLite a bit too wide, the VersaLite will likely be a perfect choice. For a women’s-specific bag check out the 10 degree Feathered Friends Petrel UL 10 (2lbs, $660). This is a super high quality women’s bag that is not unheard of on packing lists even for summer trips in the mountains for cold sleepers. As a women’s bag I haven’t personally used the Petrel, but having seen this bag being used in the field on many occasions I’m never surprised by the loft of Petrel – you may need a bigger pack! At these temperatures I do think a sleeping bag hood is something good to have – you want to retain every bit of heat your body puts off during the night within a singular compartment and bag. Thus the 28 ounce, $600 Zpacks Mummy Sleeping Bag in a 10 degree would be well worth consideration here for hikers looking to save weight. On cold winter trips, I prioritize warmth and features over weight. The colder it becomes the less I am personally concerned about weight – I prioritize warmth and comfort – and the last thing I’d want is a constricting bag on a winter night that could last 16 hours or more. In their wide mummy series the Feathered Friends Raven 10 UL (34 ounces, $700) would make for a top of the line choice in a 10 degree bag, but if saving the weight is more critical (via less width), the Feathered Friends Lark 10 UL (31 ounces, $680) would be the next logical choice here. Pushing the rating to 0F Feathered Friends offers their women’s Murre ES 0 degree bag (3lbs, $780) as well as their Ibis ES 0 Degree (50 ounces, $820). With a focus on heating efficiency, both of these bags have a bit of a narrow cut to be aware of – as with many things, there are pros and cons. Summary: Best Winter and Cold Weather Sleeping Bags Western Mountaineering VersaLite (10) Feathered Friends Petrel UL 10 Zpacks 10 Degree Mummy Feathered Friends Raven 10 UL Feathered Friends Lark 10 UL Feathered Friends Murre ES 0 Feathered Friends Ibis ES 0 Deep Winter / Expedition Sleeping Bags While I prefer to combine 2 bags to make a poor man’s expedition bag for general winter backpacking trips in the lower 48, if I were to plan an Arctic expedition, a cold mountaineering summit attempt, or for some type of cold northern basecamp type scenario, an expedition bag would certainly be appreciated in these unique circumstances. Feathered Friends and Western Mountaineering offer some very intriguing, and impressive, choices here that both throw plenty of goose down at the issue. The Western Mountaineering Bison Stormshield (69 ounces, $1360) is rated to -40F with 10” of loft and a weather-resistant shell. This bag is sized generously for additional comfort on those long winter nights. On the Feathered Friends side, their -40F solution can be found in the Snow Goose ES -40 (65 ounces, $1170). This bag is another bag that’s sized generously for more comfort and space if you’ll be spending a lot of time in your sleeping bag. If -40F isn’t warm enough however, the 78 ounce, $1360 Snowy Owl ES -60 bag from Feathered Friends may be up your alley for the most epic of arctic level expeditions. Summary: Deep Winter / Expedition Sleeping Bags Western Mountaineering Bison Stormshield (-40) Feathered Friends Snow Goose ES -40 Feathered Friends Snowy Owl -60 Whether it's an expedition sleeping bag rated to 60 below or a featherweight summer bag that packs up smaller than a water bottle, there is a sleeping bag on the market for every possible use and scenario. In Conclusion A critical item on your gear list, there are a few ways to go about your sleeping bag strategy. You could choose to go with a bag rated for the lowest temperatures you’ll ever backpack in, but this bag may be overly bulky and heavy for warm summer trips (albeit workable). To save weight, I like to go with a 2 bag system, a warmer bag for downright summer-like weather, and a 20 degree bag that gets the vast majority of use for 3-season trips in the mountains where lows in the 20s are not uncommon in August. When I head out on a winter trip, I combine them. Whether you opt for a 1 bag approach or a multitude of bags ideal for every scenario, sleeping warm adds to any trip – and while a slightly heavier and warmer bag may not rule the ultralight spreadsheet, some temperature rating buffer is always appreciated at night when you’re out there. For a list of sleeping bags from various manufacturers that you can sort and filter by temperature rating and more, see this page at REI Co-op. For background info on sleeping bags, refer to our guide on How to Choose the Best Backpacking Sleeping Bag. For additional related “big 3” and “big 4” gear selection, take a look at our articles: Choosing the Best Backpacking Sleeping Pad as well as Best Backpacking Backpacks, and Best Backpacking Tents by Application and Budget.

On the trail my dinner requirements are simple: after a day of hiking and after setting up camp and filtering water for the night, I just want a meal that tastes good, doesn’t take long in the typical fading evening light, and meets some basic calorie and nutrition requirements. And all without too much clean up afterwards. With all these prerequisites in mind, freeze-dried meals can often be found in my food bag – and most of the time these meals will be a selection of staples I’ve come to find always hit the spot over the years. That said, it’s always good to mix things up and as new meals are released I typically give them a try – the latest of which is this Mexican-themed meal from Backpacker’s Pantry. Backpacker's Pantry Fiesta Beef & Vegetable Bowl The Fiesta Beef & Vegetable Bowl from Backpacker’s Pantry is a backpacking meal with 520 calories and 31 grams of protein. The meal is composed of rice, beans, beef, freeze-dried cheddar cheese, vegetables, sour cream powder, lime, and spices. The directions call for 1.5 cups of water and 15 minutes of rehydration time with a stir about halfway through. However, the directions are set for 5000 feet and rehydration time doubles for every 5000 feet over this. Thus, you’ll be waiting about 30 minutes at a common backpacking mountain elevation of around 10,000 feet above sea level. After opening the bag I was surprised that there didn’t seem to be much product in the bottom, and initially I wondered if a mistake had been made. However, after rehydration the resulting meal seemed more like a typical 500 calorie or so freeze-dried meal portion. Rehydration wise, the meal turned out to be quite soupy, but the ingredients did seem sufficiently rehydrated. Due to the soupy nature of the meal, my hopes for this one ending up as a good tortilla filling were quickly dashed. Taste wise, the lime is quite present along with a spicy heat note. I didn’t pick up much on the included freeze-dried cheddar cheese, and I got the overall impression that the meal would serve as a decent base to expand upon – as if it needed just a little something extra…it just didn’t feel like I was getting that Mexican food fix, at least at first. That said, my backpacking food bag often has two staples included – corn chips and cheese – and adding both of these to the second half of the meal made a dramatic difference, turning the meal from a base to tinker with to a trail dinner I’d definitely look forward to, although the small beef bits could either be provided in greater quantity or larger pieces; more presence of some type would be appreciated here. Conclusion Overall this new meal from Backpacker’s Pantry serves as a good base on the trail, and by adding different ingredients to fit your taste (spices, chips, hot sauce, cheese) you could definitely get a good trail meal going here. The price is a bit steep at $13 (at this price, more calories would be quite welcome), however a bit like taste, that is up to each one of us to decide. You can find the Backpacker’s Pantry Fiesta Beef & Vegetable Bowl here at Amazon.com. Find more backpacking meal reviews here on the TrailGroove Blog. Editor's Note: This review and installment of Backcountry Cuisine originally appeared in Issue 57 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Ironically, I took photography at Brown University, and collect vintage cameras... @Aaron Zagrodnick If he is recording nonstop his cell phone battery life wouldn't cut it, not to mention he would probably need spare memory cards and set storage to the card vs internal memory and just swap out the cards when they get full. I wouldn't want to be swapping those tiny cards outside, as many of the new phones the card sits on top of the SIM card, and mine (SIM) fell out onto my table as I was installing a Mirco SD memory card, just image that falling in the wilderness and not being able to call out. He could potentially use a power bank, place it into his backpack, and keep his phone plugged in to it, but the cell phone will definitely get HOT, not to mention that cord will get annoying. @RobbieH12 Not a chance you are going to find a new digital camera, get the rechargeable batteries and a few spare ones for it and enough storage memory for $80. Your best bet is to buy a used digital camera, like Minolta, Canon, Nikon etc. so you can afford the spare batteries and memory cards for it. Best that it charges using a USB port so that you can use a power bank to charge a battery while you are recording with another. Your best bet is finding one manufactured prior to 2019 as IMO electronics have been crap since lockdown, breaking down within months to a year. I am speaking from personal experience, and I am a computer technician and electronic & small/large appliance repair man As a favor, just remember us here at Trailgroove and post some photos of your journey...

For at least half an hour, the solar eclipse seemed like a total bust. Sure, I could glimpse a chipped-out corner of the Sun with my rinky-dink eclipse glasses, but its apparently-undaunted intensity continued to bounce off the surface of Fiddler Creek, searing my skin and melting the chocolate in my food bag. But as totality approached, the atmosphere finally changed. An eerie glow settled over the landscape, and birds began to chirp their evening songs. The Sun, even 99% covered, had bravely persisted in rendering daylight. But then – totality. A flip of the light switch. A blue dusk. The only evidence of the Sun was its corona, blazing out from behind the moon. Planets revealed themselves in the daytime. Time is a strange phenomenon indeed. Those four minutes of totality seemed to pass in an instant. Before I could blink, the fabled ‘diamond ring’ emerged for a few seconds, as the Sun shone only through a tiny crater at the edge of the Moon’s surface. And moments later, as the Sun re-emerged, the whole thing was over. Sometimes, I wish I could freeze the clock and enjoy a few extra minutes of this once-in-a-generation event. A few months prior, I’d noticed that the 2024 eclipse cut its path of totality directly over the 223-mile Ouachita Trail (OT) in eastern Oklahoma and western Arkansas. I’d previously hiked most of the OT in early March 2020. The solar eclipse gave me the perfect excuse to finish what I started. The odds of a sunny April day in Arkansas seemed low, but perhaps I’d get lucky. In any event though, I wanted to hike the OT for its own sake. A Thru-hike of the Ouachita Trail Begins Getting to the trail turned out to be half the battle. I took an overnight train to Texarkana, and caught a bus a couple hours north to Mena, AR. Eventually, getting to the beginning of the trail took nearly nine hours, and involved putting together five separate rides. By the time I got to the western terminus at Talimena State Park, in eastern Oklahoma, the sun had nearly set. I snapped a quick photo and busted out a couple miles in the gathering gloom. Just before dark, I plopped down near a stream and snuggled into my quilt for the night. A quick cowboy camp would suffice. The high terrain of Oklahoma proved the most chilly – and challenging – miles of the OT. The days were sunny and warm, but high pressure dominated the region for my first few days on trail. As soon as the sun set, the temperature dropped to the freezing mark. Equipped with warm clothes and an extra dose of fluffy down though, I cowboy camped my way through Oklahoma, reveling in the delightful orange sunsets and perhaps some of the brightest stars in the eastern United States. The OT is well-marked along its entire length, but seldom-traveled in spots. The previous autumn’s leaf detritus lay thick on the ground, obscuring the rocky terrain of eastern Oklahoma. Each footstep was an adventure, with no indication of what kind of rocks I’d find underneath. In such conditions, my progress was tedious. I hiked deep into the evening hours those first few days. When I finally quit for the night, my legs ached badly enough that I struggled to fall asleep. Hiking into Arkansas Soon enough, I reached the Arkansas state line and my first resupply point – Queen Wilhelmina State Park. There, I charged my phone, met a couple other thru-hikers, and gorged myself at the magnificent breakfast buffet. Only three days in, I’d already developed an insatiable appetite. It was a busy weekend in the National Forest. Plenty of families took advantage of the beautiful weather to stretch their legs with a quick day hike. And, a couple days before the event itself, eclipse-chasers were already starting to set up camp. On one occasion, I crossed a dirt road, only to find my way blocked by a car-camping couple who’d set up their tent directly in the middle of the trail. I apologized awkwardly as I danced past their guylines. I belonged in the backcountry, away from roads and the throngs of eclipse-seekers. The event itself lived up to the hype. Despite an unfavorable forecast, clear skies persisted through most of the afternoon, allowing me an unimpeded view of the eclipse. As the evening progressed though, clouds began to pile up and a strong southerly wind swept moist air into the region. As darkness fell, lightning flashed to my south. After dawdling for most of the afternoon during the eclipse, I needed to make serious miles. And given the night’s grim forecast (thunderstorms and heavy rains), I desperately wanted to get underneath a roof. There was a shelter eight miles away, but the thunder was only getting louder. The next few hours were a blur, as I power-hiked through the darkness. The wind picked up, the lightning became almost continuous, and the humid air menaced rain. But, though the radar looked like a gallon of spilled paint, the downpour held off for the time being. Finally, I spied the sign marking the short side-trail to the shelter. No sooner did I duck under the roof, than did the rain pour down by the bucketful. I made it, with minutes to spare! I took advantage of a break in the weather the next morning to hike to the next road crossing, where I planned to resupply in the tiny hamlet of Story, AR. The trail had turned into a moat. A couple normally-dry creeks were running knee-deep. And more rain was on the way. I’d planned for this eventuality. Each of my previous three springtime hikes in Arkansas had involved multi-day bouts of terrible weather, so I planned a couple of buffer days on this trip. I sat out the remainder of the day in Story, as well as the following day. When I hit the trail thereafter, I again had beautiful weather for the rest of the trip. Story is a must-stop for any Ouachita Trail hiker. The Bluebell Cafe and its long-owner, Lori, have become legendary in the OT community. Lori offered me a ride from the trailhead to her store, and even a couple quick stops around town. The Bluebell itself is largely patronized by a stable crowd of remarkably-friendly locals. The sight of pouring rain through the cafe window made my burger taste even better. After the rain-induced interregnum, I hit the trail for the final 100 miles of the OT. This western section proved lower, greener, and less rocky than the western half of the trail. I cruised through the easier terrain, reveling in the occasional mountaintop vista. A particular treat was Flatside Pinnacle, the best viewpoint on the entire trail. Though a fierce wind battered the mountain, I couldn’t resist the temptation of a thrilling lunch at the viewpoint. The End of the Hike & Ouachita Trail Reflections The last thirty miles of the OT finally brought a reprieve from the constant up-and-down. I cruised around the edge of Lake Maumelle, approaching the outskirts of Little Rock. The OT wouldn’t give up so easily though, delivering one final burst of rocky terrain at the eastern terminus in Pinnacle Mountain State Park. I’ve often wished that I could have begun long-distance hiking in the 1980’s or 1990’s, rather than the 2010’s. Trails such as the Appalachian Trail (AT) or Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) are rightfully iconic, but as the popularity of thru-hiking has surged in the 21st century, the experience they offer has inevitably changed. Shelters on the AT are almost always full during peak season. It’s rare to go more than half a day without encountering other hikers. At times, the AT and PCT can seem like a 2,000-mile conga line, or a linear summer camp. Trail angels, no matter how kind-hearted, often burn out within a year or two, unable to keep pace with the relentless crush of traffic during the hiking season. On the Ouachita Trail, I found an experience reminiscent of decades past. The OT is complete and well-maintained, but it’s not crowded. Its AT-style shelters are clean, well-built, and rarely occupied. Trail angels and shuttle services can engage each hiker one-on-one, rather than shuffling them through assembly-line style. Trailside businesses aren’t overwhelmed with hundreds of packages, and don’t need a complicated numbering system to keep track of them all. When locals help with getting hikers to town, it’s a genuine act of spontaneous generosity, rather than daily drudgery. In almost two weeks on the trail, I met only three other thru-hikers. The Ouachita Trail is a throwback to the past. But perhaps it represents the future as well. As thru-hiking continues to surge in popularity, we need more trails to distribute the impact. The AT and PCT are arguably near their carrying capacity. But the Ouachita Trail isn’t. Neither is the Bartram Trail, Florida Trail, Pinhoti Trail, or the Idaho Centennial Trail. And that’s to say nothing of emergent trails like the Alaska Long Trail, which are still under development. In the Ouachita Trail, I caught a glimpse of both the past and potential future of thru-hiking. I couldn’t freeze the present. The Ouachita Trail was 223 miles long. I often wished it were twice that length. In the end, those four minutes of totality and those two weeks on trail were but a moment – a memory that I’ll treasure for decades. Need to Know Information The Ouachita Trail is 223 miles, located on an east-west axis in eastern Oklahoma and western Arkansas. No permits are required to hike the OT. The majority of the trail is located within the Ouachita National Forest, with small segments of state and private land (with easements), mainly on the west end. The west end of the trail is generally higher, rockier, and more difficult than the east end. Two of the best views include Rich Mountain and Winding Stair Mountain on the west end, and Ouachita Pinnacle and Flatside Pinnacle on the east end. Common resupply points include the towns of Mena, AR and Story, AR. As an alternative to going into Mena, hikers may consider mailing a box to Queen Wilhelmina State Park. Check with the park before mailing a box for any special instructions. Getting There The western terminus, in Oklahoma’s Talimena State Park, is inaccessible via public transit. The closest transit hub is Fort Smith, AR (bus or air), an hour north. Several shuttle services offer transportation. The eastern terminus, in Pinnacle Mountain State Park, is accessible to Little Rock (rail, bus, or air) via a relatively inexpensive rideshare. If section-hiking, the town of Mena, AR (near mile 68) makes a convenient endpoint, as it has twice-daily bus service to Kansas City, Fort Smith, and Texarkana. Best Time to Go The OT can be hiked at any time between October and April. Spring and fall are ideal. In recent years, winter thru-hikes of the OT have become more common. Winter hikers should be prepared for the possibility of subfreezing temperatures, snow, and ice. In times of drought, hikers may encounter the occasional dry stretch. Maps and Books Navigation is generally easy on the OT, though timber harvesting and prescribed burns have impacted the trail in a few spots, mainly on the west end. The trail is marked throughout with 2”x6” blue blazes. Maps can be ordered (or printed at home for free) here. Tim Ernst’s Ouachita Trail Guide is the definitive guidebook for the OT. It’s well-produced and detailed. Although not necessary for navigation, it helps contextualize the trailside sights. A FarOut Guide is available as well. For planning and overview maps, the Delorme Atlas for Oklahoma and their Arkansas atlas can be helpful. 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.

As one of the most important decisions you can make when it comes to backpacking gear, your choice of a backpacking tent can have quite the impact in regards to your comfort in camp and protection from the elements. Additionally, choosing the best backpacking tent can also have an impact when it comes to weight carried on the trail (as one of, if not the heaviest items in your pack), and a tent decision can have quite the impact on your wallet, as well. With many factors to consider, in this article we’ll look at the top backpacking tents currently on the market, with a preference towards tents that of course offer protection from the elements, but also are lightweight and include plenty of space for the weight (including headroom), while remaining sufficiently durable and easy to use. Additionally preference here leans towards tents that haven’t had any flame or fire retardant chemicals applied, and for tents that are easy to get in and out of and have space to store gear. Best Solo & Ultralight Backpacking Tents For solo use I look to save just about as much weight as possible and space is less of a concern – I find a little extra space to be much more useful and important when there’s more than one person sharing a tent. If it’s just me and in this day and age, I’ll look to go with a Dyneema Composite Fabric tent every time and will look for an ultralight tent under the 20 ounce mark or so. Previously my choice has been the (discontinued) Zpacks Hexamid Twin, which while designed for two was much more workable for one person having only a single side door and one vestibule. This tent however still only weighed around a pound. An ultralight Dyneema Composite Fabric tent from Zpacks Luckily there are modern-day alternatives available from Zpacks via their Plex Solo tent ($599, 14.5 oz.) as well as their Altaplex Solo tent ($669, 16.5 oz.), with the Altaplex being designed for taller hikers. I like a rectangular, non-tapering floorplan whenever I can get it no matter what tent I’m looking at, and as such the Altaplex would be an intriguing ultralight option. That said for those using standard-width pads who want the lightest pack, the Plex Solo and the Plex Solo Lite tent (a Plex Solo tent option featuring more ultralight materials and further weight savings) are equally interesting choices. With the solo tent category one door and one vestibule work great, as can be found in the tent designs discussed above. However, especially for those that backpack with a wide pad and like space, the Duplex Lite tent ($669, 14.9 oz.) should be given strong consideration. The Duplex Lite is also an option for 2 with standard-width pads, who want to save as much weight as possible and don’t mind bumping elbows. Regardless of which Zpacks tent you go with, I’d suggest at least considering their .75 oz. canopy material over the default .55 oz. Dyneema. I’ve used the .55 oz. material for years without issue – it’s not a bad default material and my tents have withstood years of use and severe weather. However, future DCF tents that I purchase will likely be of the .75 oz. variety just for all-around insurance. The .75 oz. material will be stronger and offer greater puncture resistance, which may be appreciated over the long haul and when you need it, without too much of a weight penalty. As you might have guessed, Zpacks offering buyers the choice of this fabric option is one reason their tents are recommended so highly in this article. Note that as you might expect, their "Lite" tents are not offered in this heavier duty fabric, but are still worth consideration as the lightest of the light. However, if you’re not sold on Dyneema and prefer a more traditionally-designed tent, one that does stand out in this category can be found in the NEMO Hornet Elite Osmo 1-Person tent ($550, 29 oz.). With 39” of headroom this tent may not be the most ideal choice for the tallest of users, but this height is on par with other tents in the more traditional, double-walled and freestanding (or semi-freestanding) tent market. At less than 2 pounds this tent will not weigh you down and can even fit a rectangular large and wide sleeping pad. If you’re looking to save some cash, NEMO also offers a standard version of the Hornet Osmo, which still comes in at a respectable weight with slightly smaller interior dimensions. Summary: Best Solo & Ultralight Tents Zpacks Plex Solo Standard Zpacks Altaplex Classic Zpacks Plex Solo Lite Zpacks Duplex Lite NEMO Hornet Osmo Elite NEMO Hornet Osmo Standard In summary if you’re looking for a Dyneema Composite Fabric (DCF) ultralight or solo tent and are open to a non-traditional design, Zpacks offers an excellent choice of floorplans and overall performance, and with the option of a heavier-duty DCF fabric for durability. For a more traditional design but still in the ultralight category, take a look at the NEMO Osmo series. Best 2-Person Backpacking Tents For a 2-person backpacking tent, I look for 2 doors with side entries and 2 matching vestibules, without question. This allows each person their own entry and exit (no having to crawl over anyone) and their own space to store gear at night. Generally, around 3lbs. or less is a good target here. For many years my go-to option here was the Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo ($395, 45 oz.). This tent features all the prerequisites above, but the weight of their lighter backpacking model (previously known as the Explorer model, and suggested if budget allows over their heavier Lunar Duo Outfitter) has crept up a bit in recent years. The Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo 2-person backpacking tent That said, the Lunar Duo backpacking model is not exactly heavy by any means and is a wonderful design with a 54x90” floorplan. This is one of the best floor measurements for a 2-person tent I’ve ever used. It’s long enough for tall hikers, wide enough for 2 wide pads, and isn’t excessive even with 2 standard pads…extra space is always nice. Additionally, the 45” centered height is great for sitting up in the tent. If at least one hiker uses a shorter pad, you can easily fit 2 people plus a dog or very small child in this tent as well, with gear being stored in the large vestibules. Find our Lunar Duo review here. About the only downside to this tent is that, as with all silnylon / silpoly tents including those to follow from Tarptent, you’ll need to seal the seams with something like SeamGrip SIL seam sealer at home before you head out, although many manufacturers are now offering this as an add-on service. Many backpackers – including myself – have long hoped that Six Moon Designs would come out with a Dyneema Lunar Duo to take things from lightweight to ultralight...we’ll continue to keep our hopes up. With its 90" long floor, the Lunar Duo from Six Moon Designs can fit 2 people with extra room, especially if at least one person utilizes a shorter sleeping pad. For something lighter but significantly more expensive, the Zpacks Duplex tent ($699, 17.9 oz.) or the larger ZPacks Triplex tent ($799, 21.4 oz.) are worth significant consideration. Zpacks tents are made from Dyneema Composite Fabric to save weight and you’ll end up with a tent that won’t sag in the rain like you can get with silnylon. At a 45” floor width, the Duplex will be tight for 2 people and both hikers will have to use standard-width sleeping pads, unless you want to absolutely max out the width of the floor with 1 wide and 1 regular-width sleeping pad…something I don’t recommend. The Triplex however, at a 60” floor width would be extremely tight for 3, but has plenty of room for 2 people with wide pads and room for gear or possibly a dog or small child as well. For 2+ look at the Offset Trio tent which will offer a little more width at the head of the tent, and a bit more length as well which can make fitting a dog in much easier. The Zpacks Triplex features a 60" wide floor, offering room for 2 people using wide sleeping pads with room to spare. Mainstream manufacturer Big Agnes makes some interesting tents in their Platinum and Carbon lines that are either freestanding or semi-freestanding, however there are some compromises to be had related to interior space or entry configuration (a side door, even when solo, is preferred). For example the Tiger Wall 2 Platinum tent ($650, 35 oz.) will get you a semi-freestanding tent for 2 using standard-width pads, but the 86” length and 39” peak height combined with a lengthwise sloping ceiling would be cramped for taller users. The Copper Spur 3 Platinum ($700, 52 oz.) is an interesting tent that boosts the interior length and height while using a more domed design, and is fully freestanding. This tent would be a palace for something like 2 people using wide pads that want plenty of personal space, or two and a dog (and as a 3-person tent of course – more on that later). All said, the Zpacks Triplex (for more see our full Zpacks Triplex review) is a top choice in this category for maximum flexibility (tents only seem smaller in the field). 60” is a bit much, and something close to the width of the Lunar Duo would be closer to perfect for 2. That said, we’re not making a custom tent here and beggars can’t be choosers. For two using wide pads who also have a dog along, the aforementioned Offset Trio would be a better fit. Both of these tents feature 2 doors and 2 vestibules. You can view both the Triplex and the Offset Series of tents here at Zpacks.com. Summary: Best 2-Person Backpacking Tents Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo Outfitter Zpacks Duplex Zpacks Triplex Zpacks Offset Trio Big Agnes Tiger Wall 2 Platinum Big Agnes Copper Spur 3 Platinum To summarize, the Zpacks Triplex is our choice in this category, fitting 2 people with wide pads comfortably while the Duplex would be more of an ultralight option for 2 with standard pads, while the Offset Trio allows for maximum comfort. The venerable Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo series offers a more budget-friendly option. For a more traditional design, the Big Agnes Platinum tents are worth consideration. Best Family or Group Backpacking Tents There is not much discussion to be had here when it comes to the best group and family backpacking tent, as unfortunately it seems manufacturers pour most of their research and development into their 1 or 2-person tent designs. The Tarptent Hogback ($579, 63.2 oz.) is my choice in this category with few competitors. The Hogback is a 4-person tent that weighs in around 4 pounds and features an 86x86” floorplan that can fit up to 4 standard-width pads, or 3 wide pads, and features double-wall construction with either mesh or partial-solid fabric inner options. 4 people in the Hogback will be a squeeze and you’ll be fighting for vestibule space, but we’ve used it for 3 plus a dog on many occasions. Tarptent Hogback 4-person backpacking tent Although for years Tarptent declined to entertain the idea of making Dyneema Composite Fabric tents, in recent years they began to utilize this weight-saving non-stretch fabric, but it hasn’t made it up the line to the Hogback quite yet (which would save quite a bit of weight in a tent this large). That said, we’ve been quite happy with the silnylon fly utilized in our Hogback and about 4lbs is still quite light for a tent of this size. You can read our full Tarptent Hogback review here. Although more of a backpacking shelter than a tent due to its floorless nature, the Black Diamond Mega Light tent ($400, 45 oz.) is also worth considering in this category and these tents and tents of a similar design have been successfully used by educational expeditions for many years. Depending on where you’re backpacking however, the extra bug and weather protection you get with an integrated floor like you’ll find on the Hogback may be appreciated. There is an optional nest available for the Mega Light; however it more than doubles the weight and almost doubles the price. For a lighter option Hyperlite Mountain Gear offers their UltaMid 4 pyramid ($1440 as a tent, 62 oz. with the floored mesh insert and pole). With either of these shelters you'll need to be aware of some compromises pyramid shelters can have – like a pole in the center of the tent, slanted walls, typically one (relatively) small door for entry and exit, lack of vestibule space, and the possibility of rain getting into the tent when entering and exiting due to the slanted walls. For freestanding options, the previously mentioned Big Agnes Copper Spur 3 Platinum ($700, 52 oz.) can fit 3 people with standard-width pads with room to spare, or 1 person with a wide pad and 2 others with 20” wide sleeping pads. The Copper Spur UL4 tent ($800, 88 oz.), with its larger (listed) 86x96” floorplan can fit 4 people with a couple of those people using wide pads, and this tent also has an impressive 50” inside height. In our testing getting this tent's floorplan to measure up to specs would be quite a stretch; thus we cannot recommend this tent maxed out with 3X wide pads along with 1 standard width pad. That said the tent will fit 4 people all in the same tent, although you’ll be well over 5lbs. And if the UL4 still isn’t enough space, you can take a look at the 86x108” Copper Spur HV UL5 ($900, 117 oz.) which, as you might expect, is designed for groups of 5 and features 60” – or 5 feet, of headroom. The Copper Spur UL line is typically a leader on the spec sheets – just be aware that to achieve light weight in a traditional design Big Agnes uses very light 15 and 20D fabrics that are lower on the hydrostatic head scale and feature a PU (polyurethane) coating. Coatings are very waterproof and allow manufacturers to tape seams, but coatings wear off, unlike impregnated silicone or Dyneema waterproof fabrics (it would be suggested to use a groundsheet – I use one made of window insulation film). At some point and once the group size gets larger, taking multiple smaller separate tents may make the most sense and can even save weight over a single larger tent – although depending on your tent choice, this can potentially be more expensive. Summary: Best Family or Group Backpacking Tents Tarptent Hogback Black Diamond Mega Light HMG UltaMid 4 Big Agnes Copper Spur 3 Platinum Big Agnes Copper Spur UL4 Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL5 For family and group tents the Tarptent Hogback is our choice, if your group will fit. The struts allow for good use of the 86x86” floorplan, but 86x86” is tight as group size approaches 4. The Black Diamond Mega Light and HMG UltaMid4 are pyramid options, which again are great if you fit and if you can deal with the drawbacks of the pyramid design, including inefficient use of floorspace. For more traditional designs, the Copper Spur series should be considered, however care will need to be exercised with the ultralight fabrics utilized. Best Budget Backpacking Tents Budget is relative, but for this category we can go ahead and rule out ultralight Dyneema tents and set our focus on the much more affordable nylon and polyester options. The Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo ($260, 26 oz.) can be had for less with free shipping and a sign-up discount, and if you catch it on sale it can even go for under $200. The Lunar Solo is roomy for one, fitting either standard or wide pads. The REI Co-op Half Dome Series of tents with a 2-person as well as a 3-person option has also been a go-to choice for many years. The REI Co-op Flash Series of tents offer lighter weight options, and can typically be found on sale at intervals throughout the year. The venerable Six Moon Designs Lunar Duo can also be found in their heavier but much cheaper polyester Outfitter Tent version, which will get you a palace for 2 people in a package under 4lbs. for around $200. If you’re looking to save and aren’t too picky on an exact model, checking the REI Co-op Outlet from time to time can lead to some good savings on a variety of tent models from various manufacturers. Summary: Best Budget Backpacking Tents Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo REI Co-op Half Dome Series REI Co-op Flash Series Lunar Duo Outfitter REI Co-op Outlet Tents If you’re looking to save some cash but still want a great tent, the SMD Lunar Solo is a venerable choice in this category for solo use. For two, look to the Lunar Duo Outfitter also from Six Moon Designs. The REI Co-op Half Dome series make for a traditional choice, with the REI Co-op Flash series offering some weight savings, and it’s always worth browsing the REI Co-op Outlet to see what’s on sale. Best 4-Season Backpacking Tents All the tents listed here thus far are primarily targeted towards 3-season use, but if you’re wanting to extend your trips into winter where heavy snow load can be expected and freestanding features become more important, you’ll need to look into 4-season options. The Black Diamond Firstlight 2P ($480, 54 oz.) has been a popular option for solo and 2-person use for years – you can find our full review of the Firstlight 2P tent here. If you like the Firstlight but want a little more space for 2 people, look at the Black Diamond Firstlight 3P ($550, 64 oz.). Black Diamond also offers their Hilight 2P tent as well as the Hilight 3P tent, which are very similar to the Firstlight except with upgraded features at a weight penalty. Tarptent Scarp 2 4-season tent For my use, I like the Tarptent Scarp 2 ($539, 56 oz.), however the weight is getting up there with the crossing poles and you’ll need to set a couple snow anchors with this one. For more, take a look at our Tarptent Scarp 2 review. When it comes to 4-season tents and winter backpacking, you don't want to make any compromises in regards to protection from the elements or the sturdiness of your tent, and extra weight carried here is typically worth it. Summary: Best 4-Season Backpacking Tents Black Diamond Firstlight 2P Black Diamond Firstlight 3P Black Diamond Hilight 2P Black Diamond Hilight 3P Tarptent Scarp 2 For winter and 4-season usage the Scarp 2 from Tarptent is my choice, be it a solo or 2-person trip. However and as you might expect, Black Diamond has plenty of choices in this category that are among the most popular 4-season tents of all time. Final Thoughts Overall when selecting the best backpacking tent you need to find a balance between weather and bug protection, weight, space, and price – and getting that balance just right will be a little different for each of us. However, with hundreds of options on the market the perfect tent is likely out there for everyone no matter your needs. For more on baseline information and factors to consider when choosing a backpacking tent or shelter, see our guide on how to choose a backpacking tent that goes into tent design and factors to consider on a more overall and general level. For a list of additional backpacking tents to consider from various manufacturers that you can narrow down by capacity, season, and more, check out this page at REI.com.

Issue 58 of TrailGroove Magazine is now available! Click the preceding link or the cover below to take a look: In This Issue: Jargon: Polyurethane Trail News Trail Tip: Shoe Fit Backpacking Getting Ready Guide Hiking Wheeler Peak and Geologic Area Trekking Poles and Backpacking Gear Mash Cheesy Beef Enchilada Bowl Review The Friendliness of Familiarity 107 pages dedicated to backpacking and hiking. Special thanks to all of our readers and contributors @Steve Ancik and @Susan Dragoo for your support and contributions towards the latest issue! If it's your first time viewing the magazine, we suggest starting on Page 1 for online viewing tips and tricks. Prefer to view the magazine in high definition or save it and view it offline? Our HD PDF is also available individually or included with a Premium Membership. Your input is highly appreciated. Let us know what you thought about Issue 58 here on the TrailGroove Forum, or contact us anytime. Thanks for reading!

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. R-Value and 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 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. 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.

For backpackers in all but the most temperate and low elevation climates, a down jacket is an almost indispensable piece of gear. While fleece jackets, wool sweaters, or synthetic insulation pieces can provide warmth, their ability to do so at a comparable warmth-to-weight ratio as a down jacket is lacking. Although synthetic pieces are certainly catching up in the warmth-to-weight regard and their ability to insulate when wet provides a distinct advantage, there is a reason why the most common insulating jacket you'll see on backpackers is the down jacket – it works well and has been proven (and improved) over time. There are also plenty of down jackets to choose from – hundreds of options appear when searching "down jacket" on online outdoor retailers. Most backpackers will want a jack-of-all-trades type of down jacket. The Feathered Friends Eos jacket is an excellent example of this type of down jacket and, after a year of wearing it on various trips in the Northern Rockies and Pacific Northwest, I’ve found that it’s overall an excellent jacket in general. The Feathered Friends Eos Jacket One of Feathered Friends lightweight jackets (the company also offers jackets in midweight and expedition categories), the hooded Eos is an ideal jacket for serious backpackers who don't cancel trips because the forecast might involve some ice forming in their water bottle overnight. While not warm enough – or intended for – use as a primary insulating layer in extreme cold, this jacket will keep you warm in all but the most record-breaking temperatures or highest elevations for most three-season backpacking in North America's mountains. Filled with 900+ fill power goose down, this jacket leaves nothing be desired in regard to insulation. Worn over a midweight baselayer, this jacket was plenty of insulation while watching the sun rise from the breezy catwalk of an abandoned lookout with temperatures in the mid-teens. Tossing a shell over it in similar conditions has kept me warm during periods of low-activity at temperatures down to the upper single digits, but any lower would've been stretching the limits of comfort. The sewn-through construction does theoretically leave the jacket vulnerable to cold spots, but the overall impact on the warmth provided was negligible. The pockets on this jacket were extremely comfortable and just the right size – large enough to hold a glove, warm a pair of socks, or stash a headlamp, but not so large as to swallow the item and have it awkwardly rolling around. This jacket unfortunately lacks one of my favorite features of another down jacket I own (an Outdoor Research Transcendent that was slightly less warm and four ounces heavier, but a solid jacket which the Eos replaced after eight years of dutiful service): internal stash pockets that are perfect for warming up a pair of socks or gloves and storing other bulky clothing items. As warm as this jacket is, its weight – at 11.93 ounces for a men’s medium (advertised average weight is 10.6 ounces) without the stuff sack (0.38 ounces) – is exceedingly reasonable. There are certainly other jackets on the market that are much lighter, but they often either have dialed back features, less down fill, lack a hood, or are extremely expensive. For a hooded, full-featured down jacket that is this warm I think just shy of three-quarters of a pound is nothing to agonize over. After having experienced the bane of zipper failure on other pieces of clothing and gear, I’ve started paying a lot of attention to zippers. And the zippers on this jacket are as solid as they come. The pockets and the main zipper function as to be expected and, somewhat surprising given how stuffed with down the jacket is, I’ve yet to experience anything other than the slightest snag, and that only rarely. A hem cord helps keep drafts out of this jacket, which is helpful since I found the cut to be capable of layering over a very thin fleece in the coldest conditions, but which otherwise fit perfectly. The lycra cuffs snugly fit my wrists and kept their shape well even after lots of use and pulling the cuffs up my forearms when washing dishes, filtering water, and other tasks where I didn’t want to get them wet. The hood is not adjustable but its design was so efficient that it never left me feeling like I needed the cinch cords that are on most of my other hooded down jackets. I’m a big believer in the power of Pertex Quantum fabrics and was pleased to see that was what Feathered Friends used for this jacket. Not only is Pertex Quantum a practical fabric choice, but I find it to be very comfortable when touching the skin, like when the jacket is worn over a t-shirt at a chilly lunch break or around camp on a mild evening. The outer shell of the jacket is treated with DWR and sheds drizzle and snow as well as would be expected for a non-waterproof fabric – which is basically to say well enough to not panic if your rain shell was mistakenly placed at the bottom of your pack. Since the down is not hydrophobically treated, once it gets wet you’re out of luck, but as any reasonable backpacker knows you carry a shell to protect the layers you don’t want to get wet. Over time and after washing, you can always restore the DWR / durable water repellent using a spray-on DWR restorer if needed. With all the bases covered in regard to warmth, weight, and basic features, this jacket is a solid piece of gear by any objective standards. I was also pleased with the subjective characteristics of this jacket, like its color and the color of the zippers. It adds a nice bit of richness to what could otherwise be a bland and utilitarian item. The cut of this jacket was ideal for me (5’11”, 160 lbs.) and fit true to the size (men’s medium). The stuff sack included with the jacket is functional, but I most often opted to store the jacket in an eVent compression sack with my sleeping bag to consolidate the items in my pack. Feathered Friends Eos jacket packed size Conclusion Last but not least, it is worthwhile to note that this jacket is made in Seattle, Washington from imported materials. I’ll refrain from getting into a discussion of economics, trade policies or non-economic values, but I think that buying a high-quality piece of gear made in the United States is something worth feeling good about. At $409, this jacket is certainly not a purchase to be made on a whim. But given the cost of other similar jackets (both in regard to warmth and weight), this price seems to fall within the ever-vague bounds of “fair”. Overall, I found this jacket to be excellent in all regards and would not hesitate to recommend it to anyone who backpacks in areas where the temperatures dip down to freezing or below. Down jackets, like most big gear purchases, are an item that you want to get right the first time. Opting for the Feathered Friends Eos gives you solid odds of doing just that. The Feathered Friends EOS retails for $409. Find it here at Feathered Friends and in both men’s and women’s versions. Editor's Note: This review originally appeared in Issue 38 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original review here featuring additional photos, pros and cons, and our rating of the Eos jacket from Feathered Friends.