Have Backpack -Will Hike

I don’t backpack. I have a backpack. I don’t backpack, but I take my sturdy, dirty, sweat-soaked backpack on glorious hikes that begin and end on the same day. I am not a thru-hiker unless that thru-hike begins and ends on the same day. I will take short hikes and long hikes, 5 -12 miles. My perfect hike is about 8 miles long and ends with a hot shower, chilled prosecco, tasty meal, and a cozy bed.

I feel the same way about backpacking/thru-hiking as I do about veganism -tried it, respect it, it’s not for me. In my journey of self-discovery, I realized that I am deeply rooted in my love of cheese, indoor plumbing, memory foam, and four solid walls with a roof on top. If I am sleeping on the ground with nothing between me and the wild but a thin layer of nylon, something has gone terribly wrong, or worse yet, I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.

Growing up in Alaska, I’ve been tent camping countless times. I never get a decent night’s sleep. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming fear that a bear is going to visit my camp and drag me out by my ankle and devour me. Irrational? No, not if you grew up in Alaska reading about the horrifying bear attacks that seem to puzzle biologists, “It seems the campers did everything right, it’s just very odd bear behavior.” It’s a bear! I’m easy prey. It’s the stuff of nightmares -the nightmares I have as I stare at the tent wall, heart racing with every rustle of the bushes. No thanks.

I know who I am. I am a cheese-eating, prosecco-drinking day hiker!