So You Want to Go Hiking, Volume 6

Noah's Unofficial Guide to Not Dying in the Backcountry 

How to Die a Slower Death on the Trail

We've covered so much ground, we have: packs; sleeping; eating; wearing things; going poo. All grown up and almost ready for your Big Woodland Adventure! But I do want to cover one more range of items you should pack to help make your trip smooth and agony-reduced: Oh Shit.

Oh Shit are the things you should have on hand for when, as you do things in the trail, your first two words are: Oh...shit. From compound fractures to burns to rattlesnake bites and surprise rain storms, this is your guide to things which, if you don't pack them, you will need them.

The 2 Most Important

There are 2 things that will make your life not suck on the trail: a pocket multi-tool; and paracord. Cut a branch? Dig a sliver out of you left ass cheek? Open packages? Cut rope? Stab a bear? If you don't have at least a Swiss Army Knife, things are actually going to get mildly complicated on the trail. You can't believe how much you'll use a pocket knife. Having a pocket knife with saws, pliers, files, 6 sizes of knife, and a toothpick means you have all the amenities of home. My boys and I carry Leatherman tools on our belts or in an easy-to-access hip pocket.

I cannot stress the importance of rope. And on the trail, the lightest, strongest rope to modern hikers:

Learn to store your rope, dude

paracord. Your Friendly Local Outdoorsy Store carries like 27 different sizes of this stuff on several wheels behind the cash register. Get you like 15, 20 feet of #550 paracord for your trip. Guys. Like...need some rope to stake-down a tarp for rain cover on a surprise storm? Break a bootlace? Need to hang a bug net and the cord it came with broke? A strap on your pack break? Your hip belt screw up? Your pants belt break? Need to snare a rabbit for dinner? #550 paracord is the all-purpose, tough-as-nails rope that is strong enough to get you out of everything but having to literally hang a bear in the air. And even then, with enough of it, you could make that net that grabbed Chewbacca and his friends on Endor. You can get away with #325 paracord, but I suggest #550.

First Aid

But is it bleeding??

Your friend will accidentally hit you in the face with overhanging branches that whip back when they get caught on their pack. You'll singe your eyebrows and burn your finger the first time you light a WhisperLite. You'll slide down some scree traversing an incline "that'll be just fine." My boys and I carry 2 things to help us deal with minor trail annoyances (read: BLISTERS) and prepare for the remote possibility of situations like in that movie where the dude got pinned under a boulder and had to cut off his arm (see above, re: knives): The ultralight and watertight Adventure Medical Kit for 4 People; and this pocket-sized British SAS Outdoor Survival Guide. That little book...man. Everything from safely removing ticks to setting broken bones. And some interesting notes about self-defense and silent kills.

Water

You can go 3 weeks without food. You can't make but 3 days without water. You're hiking-in 2 or 3 liters of water (hikers use the metric system, along with every developed nation on Earth but us; get

On the upside: will fill
your purifier quickly

used to it) in your pack's water bladder. You can use some of that for food, sure. They design their bladders for easy pouring. And heck, my sons and I even carry a handy extra water thingy just for food-on-the-trail. But you do not ever want to think you can just hump-in all the water you need. Get you a water purifier so that no matter where you are, as long as you're near a water source, you can refill, not worry about spills, and the like. We carry the Katadyn 10L Base Camp Pro. Fill the bag, hang from tree, clean water comes out. Magic.

For shits and grins, I bought one of those LifeStraws. It's conveniently-inconvenient. Once you get it working, it's kinda neat. But initially, it's like trying to suck ice cream through a straw, like when you make a shake too thick. You burst blood vessels in your eyes and risk a brain bleed before the water comes in, but when it finally does...pure bliss. Until your brain bleeds out from the previous effort.

Oh Jesus It Won't Stop Itching

Well, fuck. You did it. You wiped your ass with that big leaf, and now your ass is on fire. You saw this beautiful vista, and waded through a knee-deep field of this odd plant with 3 leaves and now you're full

Sure, let's hang here for the night! Seems fine...

of blisters. Fear not! My boys and I carry a big-ass bottle of Tecnu. This. Shit. Is. Magic. Listen: my oldest son and I spent 5 days on Michigan's South Manitou Island. South Manitou is made of poison ivy. 100% of the island. It floats on a bed of poison ivy or some shit. We would rub our legs in Tecnu and rinse in the Lake. Not one spot of poison ivy. You have 8 hours after exposure to use this stuff. It's goddamn wild.

Sidenote: bugs. If you're not carrying 99.8% DEET, bugs will eat you to death. Spray your lower legs, boots, and waist/belt especially. Ticks like to hang out there. Shins and ankles can be a tick cafe.

WHAT?? The Radar Said Sunny and 70**!!

Yeah. Michigan. It rains. If you know you're camping and hiking and it's likely to rain, everyone from

I don't think the heavy stuff will come down 
for a while

North Face to Arc'teryx makes a whole range of light-weight, fast-drying rain gear (I wear this), and most Osprey packs come with an attached rain cover.

But sometimes, you plan a weekend getaway and the weather looks perfect...until it isn't. Because Michigan. For such mayhem, my boys and I carry this packable, super-light, disposable poncho that's available at our local grocery/everything store that's not WalMart. And from Volume 2 of BSD's unofficial backcountry not-dying guide, wherein we covered sleeping, I again point to SOL's Emergency Bivvy as an indispensable piece of backcountry chaos gear.

**for those of you not from the North, "sunny and 70" is considered perfect weather. Anything above 80, 85 is scalding and deadly-hot. 90, stay indoors. 60? Bust out the shorts.

I Can't See!

Alert: it gets dark at night. Very. We city-slickers are used to some ambient light from street lights to airports to just neighborhoods worth of porchlights. But way way out there in the middle of BFE? DARK. My boys and I like the free use of our hands, so we pack headlamps (ones at the link are pricey; we just use good ol' Colemans). Bonus: shine bright lights in one another's eyes just by the common human interaction of making eye contact when you talk! Fun with spots in your eyes!

Etc.

None of this is strictly necessary, but falls under the BSD edict: if I don't pack it, I'll need it:

• 

  Should fit fine, NP

  Avenza Maps app on your phone. Topographical maps that use your phone's always-connected GPS (don't need wifi or a signal) so you can end the age-old argument: where the fuck are we??
• Waterproof matches. No, it won't light wet wood, dummy. But it'll lite your gas-powered WhisperLite so you can still eat.
• A real compass. If you use paper topo-maps like a badass, this is the tool I was trained on in the Marine Corps. Just not the compass from this place.
• Go old-school like our ancient forebears. It's actually kinda neat.
• Camp towels. Dry your dishes, dry your ass. Same one. Screw it. You're outdoors. 

And with Christmas just around the corner, just cut-and-paste this handy guide when your relatives are looking for stocking-stuffer suggestions! I'm sure your grandma won't mind the swearing; we've heard her after she gets a couple drinks down.