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A staple technique used in pre-packaged backpacking meals, freeze-drying is a process by which food (typically already cooked or a product that could be eaten raw) is frozen and the pressure in a chamber lowered. As a result moisture in the product is almost completely removed and foods that are freeze-dried can last years or even decades without refrigeration.

A commercially available freeze-dried meal prior to rehydration.
Freeze-Dried Pros and Cons
Compared to at-home or commercial air dehydration, which uses heat, freeze-dried products retain more nutrients, taste, and original textures when rehydrated compared to a dehydrated product. Of course this does come with a couple drawbacks – freeze-drying at home is typically out of reach for the home backpacking chef, and freeze-dried foods are noticeably more expensive.
More Freeze-Dried and Backpacking Meal Resources
See our Top Ten Freeze Dried Backpacking Meals article for more on some of our favorite freeze-dried meals, and for a wide selection of freeze-dried meals on the market, you can see this page at REI Co-op. See our guide to Dehydrating Your Own Backpacking Meals at Home for some quick tips on creating your own meals prior to a trip.
Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 54 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Vermilion Cliffs National Monument is a vast plateau in north central Arizona and adjoining southern Utah. The 280,000-acre (roughly 20 miles east-west by 20 miles north-south) monument includes the rugged and beautiful Paria Plateau and Coyote Buttes North and South. The plateau is also known as the Sand Hills. Many hikers and photographers visit The Wave, Paw Hole, Cottonwood Cove, and White Pocket. All those are worthy destinations, but going beyond yields even more impressive hikes, views, and experiences.

The plateau towers nearly 3,000 feet above the plains to the east, and is bounded by Highway 89A and Marble Canyon on the east, Highway 89A on the south, House Rock Road on the west, and Buckskin Gulch and the Paria River on the north. Everywhere on the mesa are Navajo sandstone outcrops and loose sand. The sandstone originated as a huge wind-blown sand dune field, which was subsequently compacted and cemented into rock and is now eroding into a plethora of bizarre and unique shapes to see and photograph. The dune remnants are visible as striated layers, towers of sandstone, hoodoos, “brain rocks,” and strange twisted layers. Driving in the monument is time-consuming even with a high clearance four-wheel drive vehicle, and impossible for a typical passenger vehicle. Hiking in these areas is not easy either, as there are few established trails. Exploring the plateau is a “look and explore” type of experience. Give yourself plenty of time to wander, backtrack, and take pictures. And then take more pictures! One could easily spend several weeks visiting all the amazing locations in this area and still need more weeks to see the areas you missed the first time!
A Vermilion Cliffs & Grand Staircase Trip Begins
In September 2021, my usual hiking buddy Ward and I took a week-long trip to visit the plateau and to see more of it than we had been able to in past trips. This was our fourth trip to the monument, and by far the most extensive and inclusive. On previous trips, we had visited Coyote Buttes North (The Wave) and Coyote Buttes South (Paw Hole and Cottonwood Cove) as well as White Pocket (see TrailGroove Issue 33). For several years we had been wanting to camp on the “edge of the Vermilions,” and this was our chance!

Peppermint Wave in Arizona's Vermilion Cliffs
Arizona's Vermilion Cliffs
Our trip started with a long day of highway driving, ending at Tuba City, AZ where we stayed at the beautiful Moenkopi Inn. Continuing the next morning, we arrived at the plateau after crossing Marble Canyon on Highway 89A and entering the national monument from the southern end of House Rock Road. We headed onto the plateau by the best road into the interior of the monument – BLM 1017. Once we reached Pine Tree Pockets, the real fun began. With my sister’s borrowed 4Runner, we were able to travel on the plateau over miles and miles of single-lane tracks, often with deep sand. This first day, we crossed the nearly 20-mile-wide plateau from west to east on a variety of tracks, passing through a herd of cattle in Pinnacle Valley, and stopping at several places on the way, including The Beehives.
We arrived at the end of the track at the Soap Creek Tank area and parked. In the area near the end of the road is a good stand of scattered mature ponderosa pines and plenty of beautiful exposed sandstone. Lots to see even if you don’t go much farther, but we had a destination – the edge of the cliff! Backpacks on, we hiked in an easterly direction, knowing that it was just over a mile (as the California Condor flies) to the edge of the plateau. Between our parking spot and the cliff, however, was a ridge that was a couple hundred feet above us, and then about 300 feet back down to the level of the plateau’s edge.

Much of the area was easy hiking once we found our way up and down the sometimes steep sides of the ridge. Up and down and across Soap Creek Pasture we went until we got to the eastern edge, then we wandered a bit to find the ideal camping spot. It was a beautiful area, with great views that were somewhat hindered due to smoke from a fire somewhere nearby on the north rim of the Grand Canyon. From the edge of the plateau the cars on the thin gray line that is Highway 89A appeared to be about a pixel wide. Beyond the highway is Marble Canyon, through which the Colorado River flows between Lee’s Ferry and the confluence with the Little Colorado River on its way to the Grand Canyon. One of the highlights that evening was spotting a couple of California Condors, one directly overhead!
The next morning we hiked back to our parking spot (about 1.3 miles), then drove back west and north to stop at Joe’s Ranch. This is one of several old ranches on the plateau. Beginning in the 1880s and through several other owners until the 2000s, the ranchers raised sheep, Angora goats, and cattle. Joe’s cabin, some outbuildings, and fences are still present on the site. The area around the ranch is now owned by the Grand Canyon Trust. We parked and hiked around Joe’s, then drove farther west and then north through Cathedral Valley. We drove, stopped, and hiked numerous times most of the rest of the day, with many photos shot. Included in these stops, we saw the Cowboy Hat, Flame Wave, Pink Sink, as well as several unnamed areas (many of the names of these barely-known places came from a hiker named Dave Coppedge, who has explored much more of the plateau than I ever will). We encountered just one section of road that was too steep/too sandy, so we had to turn back – the only time on the whole trip! Our camping destination for the night was White Pocket, a place we had visited several years ago.

Just to the northeast of White Pocket, there are a series of mesas that the aforementioned Dave has explored. We decided to hike between the two nearest mesas, going northeastward on the east side of Spur Mesa, then across the valley to hike southwestward in the afternoon on the west side of Caterpillar Mesa. We ended up hiking around 5 miles over 5 hours, with over 600 feet of descent and ascent. During all this, we saw absolutely no sign of any other hikers having ever been in the area, although surely there have been a few (including Dave). Along the way we saw Peppermint Wave and the Paria Puppets (Dave’s names) and the Stacked Pancakes (my name). It wasn’t an easy hike, with many ups and downs and no trail at all – just sand, junipers, low brush, and what I called “those dang yellow flowers” which were everywhere, about 3 to 4 feet tall and stiff-stemmed. Definitely not an easy hike, but very scenic!
We got back to our campsite at White Pocket in mid-afternoon, and after a bit of rest I decided that since we were there, I would wander a bit and take a few pictures. Mid-afternoon is not the best time for photography, but still…I could not resist! Once I arrived back at the vehicle, we packed up and headed toward town (Page, AZ in this case). Having driven about 50 miles of sandy tracks over three days (and not getting stuck once!). I handed the keys over to Ward at Pine Tree Pockets for the drive to Page where we got a room for the night (and showers!) and had dinner at The Dam Bar and Grill.

Sidestep Canyon in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument
Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument
For some added off the beaten track hiking, we next went to the southern part of the nearby Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument (GSENM) to visit Sidestep Canyon. Sidestep is the next canyon west of the better known Wahweap Hoodoos. I’ve had this canyon on my wish list for years, and it did not disappoint! Our hike started at White Rocks Trailhead and went northeast following a dry (at least this time) creek bed for the first mile or so, until we came to a concrete dam blocking further travel. From that point we had to climb up about 300 feet to the top of the mesa and then followed a fairly well travelled path to the edge of the canyon. We saw the upper part of Colorful Canyon (must return someday to see more!) just before we arrived at Sidestep Canyon.
The trail followed the southern edge of the canyon for a good distance before finally petering out at a side canyon. We could see a couple possible ways down into the canyon, all quite steep and sketchy-looking. There was one obvious better way down beyond the side canyon, but we opted to turn back at that point. We did get into the upper part of the canyon before heading back to the truck. This ended up being just over 7 miles of hiking with about 560 feet of climbing and descending.

That night we camped at White House Campground, saw a beautiful sunset, and had a good view of the Milky Way. The next morning, we packed up and headed north on Cottonwood Canyon Road in GSENM to visit The Box of the Paria River and Red Top. We had been to a nearby and better-known area called Yellow Rock years ago and I had noticed this large obvious red outcropping to the south and had wanted to return. Today was the day! We hiked from the truck for a short distance to the river and then were in and out of the meandering flow (it was less than 6 inches deep in most places) for the next mile and a half, at which point we climbed out on a steep slope, ascending about 400 feet in less than a half mile.
After the climb, things got even more interesting – scenic views in every direction and oh so much color! Red, beige, orange, yellow, tan, colors without names, more yellow, and the various greens of the vegetation. It was an up and down cross-country hike the rest of the way to Red Top, and by this time I realized that someday I am going to need to get my knee replaced. The hike ended up being about 5.3 miles with 690 feet of ascent/descent. I suffered most of the way back to the car, but it was worth it for the scenery we saw.

The Vermilion Cliffs National Monument and nearby parts of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument offer a stunning variety of scenery and hiking opportunities. In Vermilion Cliffs, we drove about 50 miles and barely scratched the surface, passing by many scenic outcrops that beg to be explored. In Grand Staircase we merely explored the edge of a monument that covers over 1.8 million acres. If you need to get away from civilization, these are the places for you! During the hikes we took on this trip, we did not encounter a single hiker, with the exception of my short time at White Pocket. The scenery was just as dramatic, and even more so in spots, and the photographic possibilities were endless. There is so much to see in both monuments that I am already planning my next trip to explore even more seldom-seen spots.
Need to Know
Information
General information on Vermilion Cliffs National Monument can be found here. These areas are isolated with no services. The roads are difficult to drive on. You can check conditions before driving – the park service has three nearby ranger stations: The Paria Contact Station, the Big Water Visitor Center, and the Kanab Visitor Center. Cell phone coverage is spotty. We took extra water, extra food, spare tires, and supplies to help get our vehicle unstuck.
Best Time to Go
Spring and fall offer temperatures that are more moderate and comfortable than summer. Summers can be brutally hot (my first trip to the Wave many years ago was on July 4th when it was nearly 100 degrees). Winters can be cold, with occasional snow. I have not yet visited in the winter, but have seen photos of the area with snow, and it looks amazing!
Getting There
From Page, AZ go west on Highway 89 approximately 36 miles, or from Kanab, UT go east approximately 39 miles on Highway 89, then turn south on House Rock Road. Drive approximately 20 miles to Pine Tree Road which heads east onto the plateau (there is a corral on the west side of the road at the intersection). House Rock Road is usually passable by any vehicle, but can become impassable after rain or snow. If you are coming from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, go north to Highway 89a at Jacob Lake, then turn right onto 89a, drive about 14 miles to House Rock Road then turn left and go north to Pine Tree Road.
Maps and Books
National Geographic Trails Illustrated Map #859 (Paria Canyon, Kanab) and Trails Illustrated Map #714 (Grand Staircase Paunsaugunt Plateau) cover all the areas driven and hiked in this article. Individual USGS topographic maps are also available: For the parts of the Paria Plateau that we travelled on this trip: Poverty Flat, Wrather Arch, One Toe Ridge, and The Big Sink. For Sidestep Canyon: Nipple Butte and Lower Coyote Springs. For help planning your trip to and from the trailhead as well as exploring other destinations in the area, the Delorme Arizona Atlas & Gazetteer and the Utah Road & Recreation Atlas from Benchmark Maps can be useful.
For Red Top: Calico Peak and Fivemile Valley. The Paria Plateau is discussed in depth in Hiking and Exploring the Paria River by Michael R. Kelsey and is a great source of information, including the roads, the sights, and the history of Vermilion Cliffs National Monument. Also included in the book are areas from Bryce Canyon to the south through the western parts of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.
Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 52 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

In mountainous areas most live in the valleys and often hike in the mountains – normally a colder environment as you gain elevation. However in winter, often a surface temperature inversion will form in these areas as cold air, in contrast to the norm of temperature decreasing several degrees for every 1000 feet gained, remains trapped in the valleys, and often along with the any air pollution that may exist.

Inversions are likely to happen during periods with long winter nights, calm winds, and clear skies. The long clear nights create a scenario where the ground and air closest to the surface is allowed to cool the its greatest extent, is not mixed into warmer air higher in the atmosphere by wind, and the resulting cold air naturally settles in lowest spots and is overrun with warm air.
Typical Winter Hiking / Inversion Considerations
This is in contrast to typical weather patterns where the sun warms the air closest to the ground, with that air gradually losing heat as it rises. While those below sub-zero winter hikes and backpacking trips can be quite rewarding, taking advantage of an inversion may find you leaving your house in near arctic conditions to find chilly, but pleasant hiking weather higher in the hills. As such, inversions can at times, be a winter hiker’s delight.
To learn more about weather patterns and phenomenon Peterson’s Field Guide to Weather is a good resource. See our Winter Backpacking Guide for more on winter backpacking considerations.
Editor’s Note: This Jargon installment originally appeared in Issue 32 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Less than a mile up the trail and the space between my shoulder blades already aches. I’m regretting the overpriced mini tube of sunblock, which the dense trees and clouds have rendered unnecessary, the extra layer I threw in at the last minute, and my insistence on healthful foods that caused me to pack two pounds of green beans and carrots fresh from the garden, a jar of sunflower seed butter, and three loaves of German bread the size, shape, and weight of bricks.

My last backpacking trip, thirteen years ago, involved a three-mile hike to nearby Chimney Pond, carrying my oldest son in a front pack, while my last major trip was a seventy-mile honeymoon hike in Colorado two years earlier. The only times I’ve lugged a backpack this heavy since then, it held a toddler. I decide to be grateful that the contents of my pack are not pulling my hair or throwing sippy cups onto the trail that we have to backtrack to retrieve.
Baxter State Park Backpacking
My nine-year-old son Zephyr trudges ahead of me, sliding his pack straps to his elbows, complaining that his arms are falling asleep. After a while, we meet Zephyr’s twin brother, Emmet, sitting in the middle of the trail eating GORP with my friend Brett. Brett heads up the trail while Zephyr and I join Emmet for a rest. I’ve always hiked like the tortoise, slow and steady, catching up to my companions as they finish their breaks, so this position of sweeper suits me. I know that my husband, Curry, is miles ahead with my thirteen-year-old son, Milo, and Brett’s son, Gabe.
We finish our snack, shoulder our packs, and make our way across boulders that dot a stream, but all too soon Emmet and Zephyr complain of being tired again. We stop and I hand them each a meat stick and gnaw on my own vegetarian jerky. There are many things I want my kids to get out of this trip – the experience of being in wilderness, close contact with nature, time with their parents free of daily distractions, the satisfaction of succeeding at a physically demanding experience – but my main goal is a selfish one. I want them to have a good time because I have plans for a much bigger trip next summer. So I let them take all the breaks they want and, after they finish their meat sticks, I hand them each a lollipop.

We near Whidden Pond, our only real chance for a view of Katahdin, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail and centerpiece of Baxter State Park, covering ground but with frequent breaks and the our morning continues like this, stop-and-start. “Did this used to be a stream?” Emmet asks of the rock-and root-studded trail that makes for slow going. I take pictures of bunch berries and mushrooms and try to keep the boys happy and comfortable. As we approach noon, I get irritated that Curry hasn’t stopped to wait for us. While we both have lunch food in our packs, it’s not evenly divided, and I’m afraid if we stop to eat we’ll fall even farther behind. We finally catch up to the group at the fork with the Wassataquoik Stream Trail at about one in the afternoon, three-point-three miles up the trail and two-and-a-half hours after we started.

Emmet, Zephyr, and I sit down for crackers and cheese and I try to foist green beans and carrots on everyone. Milo offers to carry some of my weight, so I stuff the lunch bag in his pack, and we refill our water bottles at the stream and move on up the trail. Energized from lunch, Emmet and Zephyr hike ahead, while I drift to the back. When I reach Wassataquoik Stream, the boys have already forded and reassembled on the other side. Milo and Gabe come back across, offering assistance to Brett and me as we wade the thigh-deep water. Once across, everyone surges ahead and I hike alone until I meet Emmet on a stretch of bog bridges that leads to the campground, where he wades in the lush sphagnum moss, picking blueberries from the laden bushes along the trail.
Eventually we make it to camp and, while the adults busy themselves starting dinner, the boys go off exploring. After a few minutes, Emmet comes running back, “A moose!” he yells. “A real moose.” We tend to the macaroni and cheese in camp and settle in for the night.
Day 2: Russell Pond to Wassataquoik Lake
I start the morning with a swim. Russell Pond is shallow with a mucky bottom, and everyone else refuses to go in because they think there are leeches, but the water is refreshing and I’m happy to take any opportunity to swim. After a leisurely breakfast, we set out for Wassataquoik Lake.
Russell Pond is situated somewhat centrally between the Katahdin area and South Branch Pond and can be just one stop in a multi-day backpacking trip that includes other campgrounds and lean-to sites, but we have chosen to use it as a base camp and take day trips to nearby destinations. Curry carries our lunch and water in a daypack and I carry a stuff sack with my swimming suit, pack towels, bug repellent, and sunblock. The boys return to their usual unencumbered hiking mode and we all move along the trail more quickly.

Milo hikes behind me for a time, right on my heels, but when I ask him if he wants to pass, he demurs. He tells me he’s having fun and I ask if it’s easier today, without a pack.
“I forgot I even had a pack on,” he says.
“You’re made for this,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re a born hiker.”
“I thought I was made to sit around playing guitar.”
“Can’t you be both?” I ask.
Wassataquoik Lake is long and deep, surrounded by mountains. We spread out on the small gravel beach, swim in the clear water, and eat lunch while the kids chase frogs and take turns paddling a kayak. After lunch, we canoe up the shore to the trail to Green Falls. A short climb leads us to a stunning cascade over the face of a moss-covered rock. After exploring the falls, we paddle back down the lake and hike back to our campsite, stopping along the way for yet another swim at Deep Pond.
In the evening, I watch from the big rock on the shore below our campsite as Curry and Zephyr take a canoe out so that Zephyr can try out the fly rod he packed in. He appears to have gotten the hang of casting the line, but the fish don’t bite. Instead I see them leap out of the water near my rock, snapping at big dragonflies that patrol the pond’s surface.
Day 3: Russell Pond to Lookout Ledges and Grand Falls
I wake to the sound of a loon. Russell Pond’s campsites are spaced well away from each other, nestled in trees, shrubs, and ferns, so that we barely notice other campers and hear only the sounds of frogs at night and birdsong during the day. Curry and Zephyr are already out on the pond, fly-fishing, again with no luck. Curry is disappointed that no one wanted to make the nine-mile hike to Baxter Peak (Katahdin’s high point), or even the more modest seven-mile hike to Hamlin Peak. I sympathize with his desire to get above tree line, but Emmet and Zephyr are on the verge of mutiny. “I’m not hiking more than three miles,” Zephyr declares and Emmet has to be coaxed out of his pajamas and the lean-to with lollipops.
Emmet and I fall to the back of the pack as we set out on the morning’s hike to Lookout Ledges. “Whoever invented hiking for fun had a really bad idea,” he says as we climb up through mossy boulders, bracken fern, spruce trees, and blueberry bushes. I remind him about all the fun things on this trip – seeing the moose, picking blueberries, talking to me as we hike without getting interrupted by his brothers – and give him another lollipop.

At the Ledges, massive boulders that poke above the trees and give a view of distant, blue-tinged mountains, we eat an early lunch and the boys leap back and forth over gaps between the rocks, then we make our way back down the trail. When we reach the trail juncture, Curry, Milo, and Gabe head toward Grand Falls, while the rest of us return to the campground. Emmet and Zephyr stop to catch frogs at the bridge over the inlet to Russell Pond while a moose noses her way through the brush nearby, indifferent to our presence.
Back in the campground, I take another swim before helping Zephyr and Emmet ease a canoe into the water. Russell Pond is the perfect size for two nine-year-olds to work on their paddling skills without much danger of getting themselves into trouble. After a while, Brett joins them in the boat and they explore the farthest reaches of the pond while I rest in the sun.
Curry, Milo, and Gabe return from Grand Falls just before dinner. On their hike, they checked out Inscription Rock and other artifacts of New City and Baxter’s logging history, climbed down into a deep gorge to take a dip in the cold, clear waters of Wassataquoik Stream, and looped back via the Ledge Falls and Wassataquoik Stream Trails. They look happy and tired, satisfied with their day’s adventures even if they didn’t climb Katahdin.
Day 4: Russell Pond to Roaring Brook via Wassataquoik Stream Trail
It starts to rain just as we leave the campground. For a while, we hike together as a family, Curry and me singing Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler,” which has been stuck in my head since Milo taught the other kids to play poker the second night. As we drift apart, I listen to the sounds of raindrops on the trees and watch the boys’ red-sleeved arms swing at the sides of their green packs, everything brightened by the glistening rain. Ahead of us, we have two stream crossings and miles of wet, soppy trail. But I feel good – happy – as if I’ve woken up from the hiker’s version of “The Ten-Year Nap.” This is who I am. This is where I’m supposed to be, out in the wild, moving under the power of my own feet, close to nature, with those dearest to me.

After the stream crossings, the group moves ahead while Emmet and I pull up the rear again. I listen to him chatter about movies, books, his friends, and Pokémon. The sun comes out in time for lunch. We make it to the trailhead in an hour-and-a-half less than it took us to hike in. Maybe because the rain cuts back on breaks. Maybe because our packs are lighter without food. Or maybe because we’ve got our trail legs under us now, and we’re ready for another adventure. Maybe we’re even ready for the big hike I have planned for next summer.
Lightening Up a Family of Five
A lot has changed in the backpacking world in the last fifteen years, and for this trip I needed to catch up with the lightweight movement, not only because my hip bones groaned at the thought of hoisting my old internal frame pack, but also because Curry and I would carry the majority of supplies for five people. Plus I wanted to keep the kids happy by making their loads as light as possible. Here’s what we took along.
Packs
Emmet and Zephyr carried small Gossamer Gear G4 packs, with the hip belts taken in four inches, Curry and I carried the same packs in medium, and Milo had an Equinox Ltd. ARAS Eagle.
Shelter
We reserved a lean-to, saving the weight of a tent, but exposing ourselves to the nightly whine of mosquitoes.
Sleep
We used Therm-a-Rest foam pads and brought the sleeping bags we already had – LL Bean down and kids’ synthetic mummies.
Kitchen
We took along our old, reliable MSR WhisperLite, one liter of fuel, and a two-quart stainless steel pot, titanium bowls, and bamboo spoons and tea cups.
Water
We drank from disposable water bottles, used a SteriPEN Adventurer Opti, and took along a milk jug with part of the top cut off, which we used for scooping water and holding our water as we purified it as well as for other camp tasks.
Clothes
We each wore a t-shirt and a pair of convertible nylon pants, that for the boys doubled as swim trunks (I brought a swimsuit), and carried a fleece, long underwear, extra socks and underwear, a warm hat and gloves, a vest, and rain gear.
Footwear
Emmet and Zephyr wore running shoes, I wore trail runners, Milo wore a pair of light hiking boots and Curry wore his ancient Limmers. The boys and I carried Crocs for the water crossings, while Curry took along Keen sandals.
Food
In addition to green beans, carrots, sun butter, and brown bread, we took raw broccoli and whole wheat macaroni and cheese, brown rice and Indian dinner pouches, multigrain hot cereal with butter, milk powder, and freeze-dried fruit, whole wheat crackers, cheese, trail mix (dubbed “glop” by Zephyr), granola, and plenty of chocolate.
Extras
We also carried the usual miscellaneous items: first aid kit kit, toiletries, paracord, pocket knives. I put cards and comic books in the boys’ packs and brought a book to read to them and one for myself, as well as a small journal and a point-and-shoot camera. Our pack weight (with food) – 30 lbs. (Curry), 26 lbs. (me), 16 lbs. (Milo), 13 lbs. (Emmet), 12 lbs. (Zephyr) – was not ultralight, but averaged less than twenty pounds per person and was much more pleasant than the heavy days of hiking yore. Every time I saw a hiker bowed under the weight of a loaded pack, I felt convinced that lightening up is the path to more enjoyable backpacking, and I’m going to continue shaving pounds off our packs.

Baxter State Park offers quintessential Maine scenery at nearly every turn.
Need to Know
Information
Reservations are required for campsites in the park. Information available here.
Getting There
The south entrance to Baxter State Park is located about three-and-a-half hours north of Augusta, outside the town of Millinocket. Once in the park, it’s another half-hour drive to Roaring Brook Campground and the Russell Pond Trailhead.
Best Time to Go
People enjoy Baxter State Park year-round, but I prefer August and September, when the bugs are fewer and the chance of rain (slightly) lower.
Maps
The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Baxter State Park map covers the park.
Guidebooks
Fifty Hikes in the Maine Mountains by Cloe Chunn, the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Maine Mountain Guide (includes map) and Hiking Maine's Baxter State Park, a Falcon Guide.
Editor's Note: This article by contributor Andrea Lani originally appeared in Issue 19 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

While a camp stool is perhaps the most popular multi-use application for a bear canister, this tip is best suited for short trips when you're trying to put an emphasis on good food and cold beverages. Bear canisters are a piece of gear added, reluctantly, to the kit of most backpackers only when required for an upcoming trip.

However, if you're wanting to freshen things up in regard to food and don't mind some added weight, the underappreciated bear canister can help you turn your first night into a feast. There's something satisfying about eating a meal better suited to car camping – like beef or chicken wrapped in foil with vegetables mixed in and cooked over coals – when you're a few miles from the trailhead, but actually pulling this off can be a bit of a hassle.
Using a Bear Canister as a Cooler
A solution, albeit a bit awkward, is to partially fill a Platypus bottle or other water reservoir and mold it to inside of the bear canister – then place the canister in the freezer. You can then either put ice cubes in a Ziploc bag or a wide-mouth water reservoir. If you're hiking early enough in the season or otherwise come across a snowbank, you can swap the frozen Platypus and bags of ice cubes out with snow. Before your trip, take the bear canister out of the freezer and put in everything you want to keep cold – meat, other perishables, beverages – and pack the cooler/canister in as normal.

It doesn't insulate as well as a real cooler would, but it can buy you enough time to hike in (and in areas without restrictions) get a nice bed of coals going (or your backpacking stove fired up), then toss some fresh food on to cook that has remained chilled. Yet another multi-use application for a bear canister would be to extinguish a fire before bed, if you had one...or for that matter one you might find unattended and/or unextinguished (hopefully this is not the case!) during a hiking day. And, since you've got a bear canister, no need to hang a bear bag for the rest of your food.
For a selection of bear canisters on the market, take a look at this page at REI Co-op.
Editor's Note: This Trail Tip originally appeared in Issue 38 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.