Hi there!
Been a while, friends! It's been hard to be creative since, well, March. It's been hard enough to finish fun little fictional, breezy, poppy novels let alone intelligent and in-depth nonfiction works. If simply reading books has been a challenge, given "all this," then even simple acts of writing have been a wall the likes of, well:
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Reading books is like... |
We've all had some pretty grand plans about what we're certainly gonna do during our pandemic break, and for the most part - I'll venture a guess and say like 85% - they haven't gotten off the ground. And folks I get it: it's stress. It's fun to fantasize about that kitchen project or the hobby you've wanted to take up, but then it dawns on you that it's work. And then, speaking of work:
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Work is like... |
But there's one thing we have taken advantage of: the great outdoors. We all see glowing reports of how many of our neighbors whom we swore never actually existed out for walks with dogs we never knew about (but always heard for god sake). Our sidewalks and public parks are actually more full because good lord in a shoebox, if I have to look at my 4 walls for one more second I'm going to cry for a month.
Well don't cry, friends! I've received some wildly fun responses to the camping and hiking trips my boys and I take - the ultimate, really, in social distancing vacations - and one of the most common:
"I want to hike-and-camp like that! Sleeping in the dirt with no shower and eating freeze-dried food sounds amazing! Limited access to fresh water?? Where do I start?"
Welcome, interested friends, to:
Noah's Unofficial Guide to Probably Not Dying in the Backcountry!
You've taken walks in the park. Heck, you've taken longer walks in the wild, maybe even with a day-pack with water and snacks or a fun little pick-inick basket! But now you want to take the next step: you want to hike and eat and sleep in the woods! Oh, friends, what a rewarding way to see nature!
In the interest of keeping your attention, I won't write the single longest and most boring post ever** on the entire topic of "what gear do I need to sleep in the dirt and not die or barf or get killed by squirrels." Instead, my plan to keep you all barely engaged and to feed my ego is to write several much shorter, boring posts on topics around not dying by squirrel or tainted water and the like.
So let's start with the thing you fill with things to not die:![]() |
She has the wrong-sized pack for her |
Noah's Mildly-Accurate Guide to Pack Volume
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Samwise Gamgee, modeling the Osprey Mordor 36 |
And Finally...
waist belt is way off
your hip belt should be snug on your hip. Above it? No. Below it? Never. Like, right on it so part of the belt is above the bone and part of the belt is on the bone? Yeah. That. Work it it Wiggle around. Get a feel.- Your shoulder straps are there to keep the pack on you. They should not be putting much weight on your shoulders, or you'll do terrible stuff to your back. Most of the weight should be on your
Bad shoulder straps, and a bird, because hiking
hips and legs. - There's a little chest strap that connects the two shoulder straps across your chest. Use it. It magically relieves strain on your shoulders, by magic.
- Your shoulder straps have 2 sets of adjustment straps; this means your straps...also have straps.
- The lower ones make your shoulder straps tight to your shoulders and back. Snug...not tight.
- The upper ones actually change the angle and weight of the top of your pack relative to your back and neck. Play with it over time
- You will never not fiddle with your straps. You will, for the entirety of your hike and the longevity of your pack be adjusting your hip belt, shoulder straps, magic chest belt, straps you don't know what they strap to but dammit they do something cuz you felt it for a moment and it was nice; all of it. And that's OK! That's why they're there! Your gear shifts, your body gets tired, the weight of the pack increases and decreases, so you need to custom-balance your pack every damn mile, but that's how you don't break.