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Often referred to simply as "sil". Nylon fabric impregnated with a silicon coating on each side. Fairly economical. Typically offered in a 30 denier (30D) fabric weight, with lighter options sometimes available. Often used in lightweight shelters, tarps, and backpacks due to its strength, light weight, and waterproofness. Non-breathable. Silnylon has been a popular backpacking fabric for many years, and although silpoly (sil-polyester) has gained traction in recent years, silnylon's popularity has been for good reason. Silnylon Performance in a Backpacking Scenario While very strong, silnylon fabric can sometimes suffer slight leakage under heavy water pressure such as that from a heavy thunderstorm (misting) or from kneeling against the fabric as water lies underneath. This can be seen when used in a groundsheet application for example, which could exert a high level of pressure against a very small portion of the fabric if kneeling on soaked ground (high PSI exceeding the hydrostatic head). Look for silnylon with a higher hydrostatic head rating to help in this regard. Silnylon can “sag” when wet, requiring one to re-adjust their tarp or shelter. This has caused a surge of silicone coated polyester (silpoly) to be used in recent years, which stretches less and is more UV resistant, but not as initially strong, abrasion resistant, or as puncture resistant as silnylon (the stretch of nylon can be a benefit for durability). For backpacking applications silnylon offers a nice blend of strength, abrasion resistance, weight, waterproofness, and value when it comes to budget. For complete waterproofing silnylon seams will need to be seam-sealed with something like Seam Grip SIL as the fabric cannot be factory taped. Some manufacturers use a fabric that is PU (polyurethane) coated on one side to solve this issue of taping (for example the Sea to Summit UltraSil Dry Bags), although the PU coating reduces the strength of the fabric. Editor’s Note: This Jargon installment originally appeared in Issue 3 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Grandma Magnanti was an amazing cook. The stereotype of Italian American Sunday dinners that lasted for hours was a reality during my childhood. A multi-course meal that started at noon and ended at about four was common. And the food itself? Often a modern “foodies” delight with now-gourmet dishes such as stuffed artichokes, dark and savory greens sautéed with olive oil and garlic, fried zucchini flowers, and a simple but packed-with-flavor macaroni course such as ziti (to name just a few dishes). And that is how I approach my preparation now for backpacking food. I no longer rush around at the last minute to buy pre-made, and sometimes expensive, meals while trying to get out of town on a Friday. Rather I can calmly pack the night before with all the food on hand. Additionally, I can have real food. The thru-hikers diet of ramen with the flavor packet and maybe with a can of tuna can give way to a tasty dish that is still ramen based but is packed with flavor and is a more well-rounded meal. Food is a delight. One of the very good things in life. And food in the backcountry should be no different if the trip allows for it. Food to Have on Hand With a few staples on hand, many tasty dishes can be made; be it for a simple overnighter or a ten day trip. The Base Here are some ideas for the base of many backpacking meals. Instant Mashed Potato Flakes Meat and potatoes. A classic. We are in America after all. Ramen Noodles Perfect for many Asian or Indian type dishes. Don’t use the flavor packet. Make your own recipe appropriate kit and place in a resealable plastic bag instead. Couscous Goes well with many types food. Be it chicken with sundried tomatoes, nuts and veggies, or with cheese and instant beans. Many quick and simple backcountry meals can be made using couscous. Instant Polenta/Grits Slight variations between the two, but both can do double duty for breakfast and dinner. Oatmeal The backpacker’s classic breakfast of milk powder, dried fruit, nuts, and oatmeal never seems to get old. Protein Besides adding flavor and texture to a meal, protein is needed for muscle recovery. For many meals, pouches of chicken, tuna, or another fish aren’t terribly heavy or bulky. A lighter alternative that works for many meals are dehydrated beans. And, who can forget bacon crumbles? Small and light enough to pack on any trip, bacon crumbles add some great taste and smoky flavor to many dishes. And for making your own cheese dishes? Some fresh cheese can be brought for short trips. Or purchase cheese powder in bulk. With a pantry full of backpacking-ready ingredients, you can not only create interesting meals from scratch, but you can also take pre-packaged backpacking meals to the next level. Fats Ounce for ounce, the best source of precious calories is fat. For an overnighter, butter packs ok. But for longer term trips, olive oil packed in a 12oz sports drink bottle works well or take olive oil packets. Another alternative is dried butter powder. In a similar vein, Nido milk powder is wonderful. Whole dried milk that is flavorful and has fat, protein, and calories. Flavors Of course, simply having fats, carbs, and proteins is not enough. Flavor is needed. Here’s what I like to have on hand to jazz up my backcountry meals. Spices and Dried Herbs Salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, lemon pepper, and other similar spices work well for many meals in the backcountry. See more in the TrailGroove article on packing spices while backpacking. Vegetables Dried vegetables are wonderful. Besides adding some needed nutrition, they add some great flavor to any meal. If you have a dehydrator, you can dehydrate your own. Or you can buy pre-packaged mixes online. Condiments Individual condiment packets give a good amount of flavor, pack small, and are easy to sort pre-trip. Hot sauce is one of my favorites! Dried fruit Not just for oatmeal, dried fruit can add tartness or sweetness to many dishes. Nuts Another versatile item. Good for snacking, adding to oatmeal, or adding to dinner dishes. Great for supplying proteins and fats. Additional Items Besides having food on hand, having a cache of resealable plastic bags in various sizes helps make for better, easier, and quicker packing. I also like to keep various tea, cocoa packets, and flavoring for water and coffee supplies on hand, too. Keeping stock of a variety of multi-use food ingredients allows for easier packing and recipe creativity out on the trail. Where to Buy? I suggest buying food in bulk. Not only is it often less expensive, but the right sizes for an individual meal can be doled out easier. Some places to buy the supplies in bulk are: Warehouse Grocery Stores Nuts, olive oil, oatmeal, fruit, coffee, tea, and many other staples for backpacking meals can easily be bought at these stores. Health Food Store or Health Food Section The health food stores, or the health food section of a store, will often have dried beans and sometimes even dried vegetables in bulk. Other items sometimes found in bulk are polenta or grits. On Sale at Your Local Store Buy as many as you can when items are on sale at the local grocery. Same strategy goes for spices or dried herbs we like to use for backpacking meals. Online Retailers Many online retailers will sell backpacking appropriate products such as Nido milk powder, dehydrated cheese powder, packets of chicken, dried butter powder, and so on in bulk for a good price. In Conclusion Remember, the less time spent preparing and buying supplies for backpacking means the more time spent actually backpacking. By purchasing food in bulk, both money and time is saved. Happy trails...and good eating! Editor's Note: This installment of Backcountry Cuisine by Paul Magnanti originally appeared in Issue 22 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

“Give me a hug man!” I said to my friend Tommy, “Walkie Talkie,” as we reached Monument 78, the northern terminus and finish line for a northbound Pacific Crest Trail thru-hiker. Walkie was only about 20 yards in front of us. My friend Kayla, “8 Track,” was directly in front of me. We checked the maps at the last water source and knew we only had five miles to go. It started pouring with rain, slowing our progress. The three of us were dead quiet. You could hear every drop of rain. An hour and a half goes by – but nothing comes into view. Suddenly, there is a large clearing up ahead. Walkie reaches a switchback, turns, and looks to us with a big Cheshire cat grin, bouncing up and down with his backpack on, waving his hiker poles in the air saying, “I can see it, I can see it!” Kayla didn’t want to believe him because Tommy was known to be a jokester on the trail, but your eyes don’t lie. Tommy took off running, as Kayla sung her way dancing towards the monument, and I was simply in complete shock. I didn’t think it was real: 2,650.10 miles and 180 days and now, it was all over. It was never a vacation. It was never a sojourn, or a journey, trip, excursion, or trek. It was a dream. I had to do it. I couldn’t think of anything better than to be in nature, spending around 180 days in a sleeping bag, while stinking at such unfathomable levels that people at McDonald’s and grocery stores couldn’t stand to be within ten feet of me. I did however, find comfort in the strangest places, found love where I wasn’t looking, and ultimately found the change I was looking for. The Pacific Crest Trail Thru-hiking Experience Change came in the course of landscape and trail, but more importantly, I changed. And the transformation I experienced on the trail could be considered as stark as night is to day and summer is to winter. Change inside, change outside, change in appearance. Change emotionally, physically, and mentally. If there is a single word to describe the trail, it is change. The trail changed me as much as it changes in elevation throughout its course – and with the sheer amount of climbing and descending that takes place on a PCT thru-hike, something life altering was bound to happen. I could tell you about how gorgeous the trail is and use all kinds of words from a thesaurus to convey its beauty, and I will, but there is something very special to be said about what it takes to wake up after a day and to hike on despite the challenges of the trail. Whether it was watching the sun rise over a Joshua tree, carrying eight liters of water for a 38-mile dry section in 90-degree heat, or simply freezing in a tent at 9,000 feet during an unexpected snowstorm – Southern California was made up of a series of extremes, moments that, even at the most difficult, were all insanely gorgeous. From desert to alpine and back to desert within 100 miles of trail can bring the extremes of cold in the morning, to altitude in the San Gabriel Mountains, to afternoon heat waiting in the shade under a Joshua tree in the Mojave Desert. But after walking through what many said was the worst section, I was now at the doorstep of the Sierra itching to open it. And the only way to describe what I saw when I opened that door was nothing short of breathtaking. When my muscles started to hurt more than usual, and I wished I could literally buy oxygen, I knew I made it to the Sierra. The Sierra brought granite peaks, extreme altitude, and a view that high definition couldn’t bring life to. Many lost up to an extra tenth of their body weight in this section because of the sheer effort it took to go over some of the passes. Waking up at 7,000 feet only to know that in 20 miles, I had another 6,600 more feet up and the equivalent down, the physicality was ever present. The orange glows of granite walls at sunrise or sunset, and my camera’s memory card reminding me that you can’t take any more photos when the card is full can sum up the Sierra. I averaged 9.8 miles a day for 20 days going through this section – not because I was tired or because it was hard, but it was purely because I wanted to. I let my friends go and hike their 18 mile days while I basked in the beauty that John Muir inspired us to see. I am certainly convinced, after hiking through the Sierra Nevada and the famed section named for John Muir (see A Hike Along the John Muir Trail), that he himself had to have been a fly fisherman. You can’t just create a trail that meanders next to some of the most gorgeous and un-fished waters on this planet and not want to cast out at sunset to rising trout that make the lake look like it was raining on a clear day. Many took off and sprinted ahead, while I casted out to the pure gold – in the form of golden trout – making the 200 or so miles through the Sierra a 20-day odyssey. Transitions were abundant along the PCT. The descent out of the Sierra was slow but obvious. When the highest elevation I hit for the day was around 7,000 feet and not over 10k, I knew Northern California and Oregon were knocking. The temperatures began to climb again, but the terrain got easier. The climbs were far mellower and the days were getting longer and longer. Pretty soon the slow casual pace through the Sierra, turned into marathons and the occasional ultra. This part of the trip turned out to be a highlight, despite the fact that it wasn’t quite the jaw-dropping scenery of what I just went through. It was because it was different. It was social hour. Here is where I met some of the most incredible humans that I still call friends to this day. Having the ability to share 20 plus mile days through some gorgeous terrain made the rest of the trail fly by. Some of the fondest memories of the entire trip are from the people. Simply the passion that we shared for hiking the trail is all we ever needed to strike up a decent conversation and connection – we would often joke about how some lost more weight on the trip from laughing than actually hiking. But passing Mount Lassen and the lava beds of waterless, heat-soaked Northern California, then meandering past Mount Shasta, the feel of volcanoes were always present. Scattered dense forested patches mixed in with open fields mimicking deserts without cacti were prevalent. The creeks shrunk in size and flow, and temperatures climbed. We all knew another state beckoned, but what was in store in Oregon blew us all away. Nearly 1700 miles of hiking in one state, almost four months of walking, and the border of Oregon and California was finally here. Need to Know Information The California section of the PCT is nearly 1700 miles in length out of the trail’s total 2,650.10 miles. California is longer than both Oregon and Washington combined. You will reach the half way mark of the trail in California. In order to hike any part of the PCT, you must first obtain a permit. You can apply for one on the Pacific Crest Trail Association website and book a date that works best for you. Best to apply at the beginning of the year to hopefully get the date desired. Find out more about the PCT hiking experience in the article, Thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail: Lessons Learned. Best Time to Go The preferred start date for a California summer hike on the PCT typically starts anywhere from mid-April to early June at the latest. These dates vary of course depending on snow pack, but this usually the optimal time to hike before the hotter summer in the desert and to allow for snow melt in the Sierra. Getting There In order to get to the southern terminus of the PCT, you can fly into San Diego or Los Angeles as they are the closest airports to that location. Campo, California is the official start of the trail for the southern terminus. Either have a friend or family member drop you, or there are trail angels that can take you to the monument. Taxis can be arranged. The northern border of California and Oregon is inaccessible directly. You can get dropped off a mile north of California via forest service dirt roads or from Seiad Valley and dirt roads surrounding. However, besides the southern and northern borders, the trail is accessible throughout the state as there are many trails connecting as well as sections that are popular for any type of hike. Maps and Books Downloading topo maps online and printing them for each section you hike is highly advised. I also found the PCT Halfmile App very useful. For larger scale maps National Geographic offers their individual PCT section maps that are also available in the PCT Map Pack. See also the Pacific Crest Trail Data Book. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sean Jansen originally appeared in Issue 40 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content and you can find part 2 of the story online here or in the HD Issue 40 PDF download.

In the “must see” places of the outdoors, certain areas seem to garner the most publicity. All names that are found in glossy photos for post cards, magazines or coffee table books. Destinations any backpacker would love to, and should, see at some point. Places to be added to their memories and experiences of where they have spent time in the outdoors. But among these places cataloged, discussed and portrayed in glossy photos is a place of deep canyons, ancient Puebloan sites, high alpine peaks and deep blue lakes nestled in remote mountain cirques. And where bighorns grace the ridge tops. This place not often thought about? The Land of Enchantment. New Mexico. For such a large state, New Mexico is an unknown to many outdoors people. People will spend months planning a two week vacation in some of the marquee areas. But not New Mexico. Which is a shame. New Mexico has some amazing, remote and stupendous areas to explore. But more than the scenery, there is the unique blend of culture found throughout New Mexico. The mixture of Anglo, Spanish, and Native culture adds to the experience of spending time in this area. And the food? Any post-backpacking repast with some delicious chile relleno must be one of the great pleasures in life. Here are a few places that should be of interest to anyone who wants to explore this great and unique area. It is a mere sample of everything to explore in New Mexico. But it is sample that should pique the interests of any lover of the outdoors. The Center of it All: Chaco Canyon National Historic Park Chaco Canyon National Historic Park is an UNESCO World Heritage site. An appropriate designation for this important cultural area. In the center of the Ancestral Puebloan world, Chaco is arguably the most important archeological site in the American Southwest. Found in a canyon far from any major town, Chaco takes some commitment to see. But it is a place that should be seen by all. It is not a backpacking destination but car camping is permitted. There is a fair amount of hiking mileage that may be done. But it is not the mileage that is important. It is the seeing of these impressive sites that is the attraction. The main sites such Pueblo Bonito are certainly impressive. But the more remote areas? Places that must be hiked for hours to see such as Penasco Blanco? Those are the impressive places. Overlooking the stark, but beautiful, terrain of Chaco, Penasco Blanco is alone and up high. And on the way to this remote place within an already remote park? The famous “nebula petroglyph” may be seen. One of the more famous finds, and ongoing debates, in archaeoastronomy. When to Go Fall and spring are ideal. Summers can get very hot. Winters can get brutally cold. I was there over Christmas week and the temperatures dipped to -7F one night according to the ranger! Maps The map supplied at the Visitor Center has information needed to hike the trails. Logistic Considerations Chaco Canyon is very isolated. The canyon is at the end of a somewhat rough dirt road. Fuel and any last minute supplies can be found in Nageezi, NM. This “town” is mainly a gas station. The gas station is conveniently located before the turnoff to the road that takes you to Chaco Canyon. Other Considerations Due to its prominence with archeoastronomy, both the solstices and equinoxes can be relatively busy times in Chaco Canyon. From all reports, a special time to be there however. Chaco Canyon is also an International Dark Sky Park . A fantastic opportunity for enjoying the night sky. Bring the appropriate star chart or the 21st century equivalent in app form. History via the Backcountry: Bandelier National Monument As stunning and trip-worthy as Chaco Canyon may be as a destination, there is something about a backpacking trip to explore this history that is very satisfying. Bandelier National Monument is another important site of the Ancestral Puebloan culture. Unlike Chaco, the only way to really see some of the major highlights of this area is go backpacking deep into the canyons. Due to recent fires and floods, the backcountry area is not crowded. I've found basic map reading techniques for backpacking in this area are needed. The signage is often missing and the trails, when existing, can be rough. The payoffs? Deep and long canyons abound, exquisite backcountry sites beckon for camping and quiet ancestral Puebloan sites can be found. A notable site in particular is the Painted Cave. An over twenty-mile round trip hike from the Bandelier headquarters. But worth every step. Capulin Canyon itself is stunning. Sheer red rock walls, a flowing creek, and cottonwoods blazing. The feeling is remote. But the Painted Cave? Truly a memorable site. With both pre- and post-Columbian pictographs that should be looked at and savored. The site is still sacred to the descendants of the people who made those paintings long ago. Please be respectful of the area. When to Go October through May is perhaps ideal with the caveat that the park may close if there is too much snow at the peak of winter. Summer is very hot and flash floods in the canyons are a potential issue. Maps The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Bandelier National Monument Map covers trails in the park. The Sky Terrain map for the area is also worth consideration. Logistic Considerations A shuttle bus ride is required from mid-May through mid-October. The shuttle is located in the nearby town of Whiterock, NM. Other Considerations The trails and overall conditions of the backcountry are rough from fires and floods in recent years. These are not the typical well maintained and marked National Park Service grade trails. I have found a good map and navigation techniques are both put to use while hiking in the area. Backpacker’s Delight: Pecos Wilderness A place to backpack with thirteen thousand foot peaks, alpine lakes, delightful ridge walks, and where herds of bighorns roam? Go to the Pecos Wilderness. Towards the very end of the Rockies, it is one of my favorite places I’ve backpacked. Depending on the snowpack or if there is an early winter, the Pecos Wilderness can be hiked as early as late-May and as late as sometime into October. Trail Riders Wall and Santa Barbara Divide are two places not to miss when in the Pecos. Any ridge walking junkies will savor both places. With many miles of trails and lots of off-trail options for the adventurous, many days can happily be spent in the in this gem of the New Mexico backcountry. When to Go Depending on the snowpack, the Pecos Wilderness may be available for typical three season backpacking by Memorial Day Weekend. The season generally extends until early or even mid-October. Maps The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Santa Fe, Truchas Peak Map covers the trails in the Wilderness area. The appropriate USGS topo map is suggested for off-trail travel. Logistic Considerations There are many access points for the Pecos Wilderness. If coming from the Taos side, the Santa Barbara Trailhead is a very good access point. It leads to the Santa Barbara Divide and other points of interest. Coming the Santa Fe area? The Jack’s Creek Trailhead is a popular access point. Other Considerations Holiday weekends are the busiest time. Fall hikes? The aspens are sublime. Along the River: Rio Grande del Norte National Monument The Rio Grande is perhaps second only to the Colorado River basin in terms historic, cultural and economic importance for rivers in the American West. And an excellent way to see the Rio Grande? The Rio Grande del Norte National Monument. Sitting on a volcanic plain in northern New Mexico, the monument seems too stark and perhaps drab at first. But then the magic happens. You pull up to the monument along the entrance road. Your first glimpse into the gorge is seen. And then the proverbial jaw drop happens. It is stunning. Some of the most exquisite car camping around may be done overlooking the rim of the gorge itself. Prefer backpacking? There are backcountry sites available almost on the banks of the Rio Grande itself. Not to miss is a hike to the confluence of the Red River and the Rio Grande. Petroglyphs abound as well. Truly a magical place. When to Go The monument is accessible all year. Summers can be hot, but cool by the river. Winters can be cold, with slippery access to the gorge below, but the snow does not typically last. Spring and fall are again ideal. Maps The Sky Terrain Taos, Wheeler, and Latir Peaks Map covers the monument and nearby areas. Logistic Considerations An easy drive on paved roads to the monument. The visitor’s center does not have many amenities, but Taos is less than an hour away if supplies are needed. Or if you want a little culture with your backcountry experience before or after the trip. Other Considerations The trails on the rim of the gorge allow biking. A great monument to park your car and not have to worry about driving for the weekend. All the campgrounds are connected by the same trails as well making loops hikes various lengths very feasible. High Plains Drifting: Mills Canyon It is not only the mountains or the red rock canyons of the Colorado Plateau that beckon in New Mexico. The Kiowa Grassland contains a gem of a place: Mills Canyon. Dropping nearly 1000 feet from the High Plains, Mills Canyon is place very much off the beaten path. The red rock walls seem more reminiscent of Utah than the High Plains. The Canadian River placidly flows through the canyon itself. And this area has some of the darkest skies in continental United States. Stargazers will appreciate the lack of light pollution. Seeing the Milky Way is a given. There is a nice, and free, USFS campground on the Canadian River. But a backpacking trip is very possible in this canyon with about twenty miles along the canyon bottom accessible to the public. Have a little more time after or before the trip? Capulin Volcano National Monument is close by. Located dramatically where the plains meets the Rockies, the extinct volcano really stands out. At 60,000 years old, Capulin volcano is very young for a volcano. The terrain is interesting. The ancient lava flows still dot the landscape. Looking and hiking into the crater is a must-do. But be sure to take one of the hiking trails that go along the old lava flows to really see the effects this volcano had on the landscape. When to Go Spring and Fall are perhaps the best times to go. Summers will be very hot in the canyon bottom. Always a potential for flooding along the Canadian River. If the winter is mild, would be a quiet time to go but the access road could be very difficult. Maps USGS maps only. Caltopo is always a good resource. Logistical Considerations The access road is somewhat rough. A passenger vehicle might be ok if slow going. The road is narrow. I had to pull over and the other vehicle was less than a foot from my window. I’m not exaggerating. Other Considerations Another very isolated area. Last minute supplies and fuel can be found at Springer, NM. The town is about 45 miles, one-way, from the bottom of Mills Canyon. There are no readily available services between these two points. After the Trip And after all these trips? Conveniently located near many of these sites is the town of Taos. A place perfect for any post-trip food and cultural exploring. More laidback and less busy than Santa Fe, Taos is a great place to relax before or after a trip. Relax in a plaza that goes back to the 1700s, see a place that has been inhabited for over 1000 years, visit the site of where both some famous photography and paintings were done, and enjoy some food made with the green chile for which New Mexico is famous. If there is a better way to end a trip than to enjoy a refreshment while eating a bowl of chili while shaded by some cottonwoods on a late summer day, it must be pretty darn good. Further Reading I find when exploring the area, having some deep background makes the trip that much more enjoyable. Here are some books or other resources that I have found to be interesting reading: New Mexico: A History by Joseph P. Sanchez is a very good one-volume introduction to the various threads of culture and history that make New Mexico such a wonderful place to explore and experience. People of Chaco: A Canyon and its Culture by Kendrick Fraizer is an excellent introduction to not only the Chacoan world but also the Ancestral Puebloan culture in general. House of Rain: Tracking a Vanished Civilization Across the American Southwest by Greg Childs. An engaging and thought provoking read even if some of the conclusions are strongly contested. The Taos Pueblo strongly argue against the civilization “vanishing” for example! The Maverick Cookbook: Iconic Recipes and Tales from New Mexico by Lynn Cline. History book? Work of historical fiction? Cook book? A little of everything, really. This book collects recipes from various periods of time in New Mexico’s long and fascinating history. Arguably one of the best ways to enjoy and understand an area’s culture is through its food. And the blend of Native, Spanish, and Anglo cuisine that makes up New Mexican cuisine is very much reflective of the state’s blend of history and culture. A very delicious blend, too. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Paul Magnanti originally appeared in Issue 30 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

For those of you who live in areas where you can camp year-round – or those of you intrepid enough to dig snow caves and hunker down, this squash soup makes a rich seasonal meal that’s spicy enough to heat you from the inside. The topping of crispy lamb with cumin and sunflower seeds adds a taste sensation bold as a winter camper. Soup “bark” is dehydrated pureed soup. The liquid is poured on solid trays then dehydrated until crisp (see dehydrating your own backpacking meals). It often tastes good as a cracker or chip, too. Package in a zip-style baggie and rehydrate in hot water. Remember: Save a bowl with lamb crisps for your dinner! Add a sprig of cilantro. At Home Ingredients (2 servings) 1 tablespoon olive oil 2 shallots, minced 4 cups vegetable broth 2 cups diced winter squash (such as pumpkin, butternut, or acorn) 4 cloves garlic, minced 2 cups collard greens, thinly sliced and cut in half I chopped small red chili pepper 4 tablespoons soy sauce 1 tablespoon red pepper chili oil (to taste) black pepper and chilipowder to taste 1/2 lb organic lamb steak, sliced very thin 3 tablespoons whole cumin seed 3 tablespoons sunflower seeds chili powder to taste 1 cup apple cider vinegar 2 tablespoons coconut oil 3 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari Instructions In a soup pot, heat 1 olive oil, shallots, garlic, and squash on medium high. Sauté for 5 minutes. Add broth, soy sauce, and chili oil. Cover and simmer on medium heat for 10 minutes. Add the collard greens, chopped chili, cover, and continue to simmer until all ingredients are soft. Puree the soup. Adjust seasoning to taste. Pour puree onto solid dehydrator trays and dehydrate until it becomes crispy. Break “bark” into pieces and package in a zip-style baggie. Label. Freeze the lamb steaks until they are slightly firm. With a sharp knife cut very thin 1/8” x 1” x 1” pieces. Toast cumin, sunflower seeds, chili in a frying pan with 1 tbs. soy sauce. In a shallow dish combine apple cider vinegar, coconut oil, and 2 tbs. soy sauce. Grind ½ the toasted cumin, sunflower, chili mixture together (I use a coffee grinder) then add to the marinade. Add the lamb slices and refrigerate for at least one hour or overnight. Discard the marinade, place the lamb on a cookie tray and cook in a pre-heated 325-degree oven for five minutes. Dehydrate the lamb until it is very crispy, like chips. Package the lamb crisps and the remaining toasted cumin, sunflower seed, chili mix in a zip-style baggie. Label. In Camp Rehydrate the squash soup bark with 3 cups of water. Heat and serve with a generous sprinkling of lamb-cumin crisps on top. Add a sprig of dandelion greens or wild onion for color! This goes well with a cranberry chutney. Find out how to make chutney roll-ups and other ultra nutritious and delicious backpacking meals in Backpackers' Ultra Food. Editor's Note: This recipe originally appeared in Issue 12 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Have you ever been on a long hard trail, sweating like a prize fighter, wishing you could have a cool drink of real juice? Well, you can! It’s simple and (almost) fresh. Last month’s seasonal soup recipe introduced the notion of dehydrated “bark”. Bark is created by spreading any blended ingredients, such as soup, on a solid dehydrator tray (or on baking parchment paper on a mesh tray) and drying it until crisp. Apply this technique to blended fresh fruit and your backcountry refreshment dreams could come true. The other benefit of drying liquefied fruit is that it does not have to be cooked. It holds all the glorious color and flavor in a little crispy chip. Just add cool water filtered from a mountain creek, let sit for 10 minutes, and drink to your heart’s content. I love this blend because it is bright red, full of vitamins and minerals, and naturally sweet. Strawberry Cran-apple Juice Ingredients 2 cups raw cranberries, frozen or fresh 4 apples 1 quart fresh strawberries Sweetener to taste, optional If you have a juicer simply run all the fruit through it until you have a thick blend. If you only have a blender, add cranberries and sliced, peeled apples to hot water and let sit until the berries pop open and the apples soften. Place the softened fruit and strawberries in the blender and blend until they have the consistency of thin applesauce. I like a bit of tart flavor from the cranberries, but for a sweeter juice add extra strawberries or your sweetener of choice. Pour the juice 1/8” thick on the dehydrator trays and dry at 135 degrees for several hours until crisp. Check consistency every two or three hours (see tip below). See the TrailGroove article on dehydrating your own backpacking food for more. When the juice is totally crisp, remove from the dehydrator and store in labeled resealable bags. You can also put the crisps in a coffee blender and make a powder. Either way, your future thirst-quenching treat is ready for your next trip in the wild. Tip: If you want to remove one tray of drying juice when it is rubbery, you can make fruit leather to add to your trail mix. See more about fruit leathers in Backpackers' Ultra Food on pages 51-52. Editor's Note: This recipe originally appeared in Issue 13 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

I wince with every step as I cross the river. Bare feet had seemed like a good idea. But now, after too many crossings to count, my soles feel the pain. I grip my trekking poles for stability against the current and tread cautiously on the slick stones, picking my way to the other side. The river glitters in the late afternoon sun. Jessica and Shay are already on the opposite bank, searching for yellow blazes. Before attempting this crossing, we had bushwhacked away from the last vestiges of trail. Scrambling through brush to the stream bank, we sought some visual indicator of direction, but found only the sight of another wet crossing. Our scouts report no sign of the trail. We were supposed to be hiking along Viles Branch Creek but something is wrong. Following yellow blazes which have now disappeared, we’ve criss-crossed this swift stream for hours and it is getting late. Where are we? Finally, it occurs to me. “Mary, does your GPS have maps on it?” “I’m not sure,” says Mary. “You want to take a look?” Yes, indeed. Upon examination, it appears we are still on the Little Missouri River – somewhere in the middle of the Ouachita National Forest, but not on Viles Branch Creek. I zoom out and see Road 106 to our north, if the GPS is correct. Mary says the device may not be calibrated correctly. Even so, we have to make a decision. “We’d better bushwhack to the north and find that road. Then we can head west and it should take us to the Athens-Big Fork Trail,” I say with a confidence I don’t feel. The seven of us begin our scramble through the undergrowth. I feel the weight of the group’s welfare. What have we gotten ourselves into? Before we have gone 100 yards we hear voices on the ridge. I hasten ahead and shout, “Hello! Is someone there?” Soon I climb a little rise and there before me is a trail. Hallelujah, a trail! This trail is different, as we are learning. The Eagle Rock Loop The Eagle Rock Loop is the longest and one of the toughest loop hikes in Arkansas, a state with a high concentration of long and tough trails. It is a combination of three trails, the Little Missouri, the Athens-Big Fork, and part of the Viles Branch Horse Trail, with a total length of 26.8 miles. Hiking the Little Missouri section is dependent on water level and flash flooding is possible in the rainy season. It was here in 2010 that 20 campers were killed by flash floods in the Albert Pike Recreation Area. We planned to do this hike last year but had to divert to a section of the Ouachita Trail because of high water. Now in mid-October 2013, we have found a sweet spot. The river is passable, there is no rain in the forecast, the foliage is gorgeous, and the sun is shining. What else could we need? Mary and I are the “experienced” hikers and trail guides on this trip. In our pre-trip planning, she agreed to bring the pertinent pages from Tim Ernst’s Arkansas Hiking Trails book. Ernst provides detailed, virtually step-by-step, directions in his many guidebooks. I agreed to bring a detailed U.S. Forest Service map which I had painstakingly printed out and taped together. Mary always brings her GPS, so we believed we were adequately prepared. I had opted not to bring my own GPS or a back-up map for the sake of weight. My pack is just under 20 pounds without water, my lightest pack weight ever. This will be both a blessing and a curse. Our all-female group, including three first-time backpackers, leave Oklahoma City on a Thursday evening for Mena, Arkansas, our jumping-off point for the hike. The drive is familiar. This town of 5,600 is our home base for semi-annual section hikes on the Ouachita Trail. Midway through the five-hour drive we stop in the berg of Krebs for Italian food served family style at Roseanna’s. Arriving in Mena about 10:30 p.m., we waste no time hitting the sack, craving a good night’s rest for the trail tomorrow. Hiking the Eagle Rock Loop: Day 1 The trailhead is 23 miles southeast of Mena on a remote forest road. We leave the Sun Country Inn at 7 a.m. to breakfast at the Skyline Café with a roomful of motorcyclists preparing to enjoy the area’s twisty roads. After stuffing ourselves with pancakes, bacon and coffee, we wind our way to the trailhead along canopied byways, leaves of yellow afire in the morning sun. We arrive at the Little Missouri parking area about 9:30 a.m., intending to begin the loop in a counter-clockwise direction from its northernmost trailhead. This would get the mountainous section out of the way while we are fresh. These mountains are not high in an objective sense but they are mountains nonetheless. The Athens-Big Fork Trail, which comprises the western portion of Eagle Rock Loop, follows an old mail route between the two communities of Athens and Big Fork and climbs steeply over one mountain after another. Many recommend saving the climb for the end of the hike and a lighter pack. I am indifferent, but we have to make a choice. Mary and I stand at the narrow Little Missouri crossing looking at my map. “Sue, do you see a trail going west?” We both search and all we can see is a white-blazed path going south. “Let’s just head this way and see if it branches off towards the west,” I say, either direction seeming satisfactory to me. The map goes in my pack’s outside pocket so I can reach it easily and we set a brisk pace on level ground along the river, admiring the fall colors and sparkling watercourse. If we encounter the Little Missouri Falls soon, we will know we have gone “the wrong way.” Four miles along, we do exactly that. Clockwise it is! After crossing a high bridge over the river we explore the falls. Clear turquoise water flows over rock stair steps as wide as the river itself, framed by the reds, yellows and greens of the forest. Descending to the river level, we scramble on boulders and take photographs. The rest of the afternoon is uneventful as we continue along the Little Missouri, ending with three major crossings and no mishaps. We all have different approaches to the river crossings – some use waterproof boots and gaiters, some cross in water shoes. The water is very cold. Scenic waterfall on the Eagle Rock Loop Eagle Rock Loop Day 2 My 45-degree sleeping bag weighs almost nothing but given the night’s freezing temperatures, its lightness is small comfort. At daylight, I am ready to get moving and warm up. We try to find the trail. Our wanderings take us through the ghostly Albert Pike Campground – buildings boarded up, abandoned and eerie. Finally, thanks to Jessica, we find the right path, just a couple of hundred yards from our camp. It is wasted time we cannot afford. The trail skirts a rock wall with a fern-lined spring and emerges at a picnic area. We ascend a steep hill, losing our way again but eventually regaining the trail and moving on toward Winding Stairs. It is important to note that we don’t actually know what Winding Stairs is. What we do understand is that when we get there we should look for yellow blazes signifying the Viles Branch Trail, the east-west connector between the Little Missouri and Athens-Big Fork Trails. Our map is little help in this regard. We soon arrive at a parking area signed “Winding Stairs” and see a trail marked with yellow blazes. Before we continue, we decide to make this our lunch stop. While we eat, we observe other hikers crossing the stream and surmise that this is a lesser trail we haven’t heard about. For us, it is time to focus on on the Viles Branch. We follow the yellow blazes. The trail quickly peters out and we are puzzled, finally deciding we have gone the wrong way. Little do we know how wrong. Trudging back to the parking area we find yellow blazes going the opposite direction. Eureka! This must be it, the Viles Branch Trail. Off we go, trying to follow the yellow blazes, crossing the river over and over. Each time, we are slowed by the process of evaluating the water’s depth and crossing. Shay and Jessica, who are now hiking in their sandals, clearly have the right idea. As we meet other hikers, the term “Eagle Rock Loop” is unfamiliar to them. Then we come upon a place with giant boulders and multiple swimming holes. Families are wading, picnickers lounging on the lush hillsides. Now it becomes clear – THIS is Winding Stairs Scenic Area, the point where we should have begun seeking the Viles Branch Trail. When we were back at the Winding Stair parking area and saw those people crossing the river – we should have been following them. That was just the parking area and it was Blaylock Creek they were crossing to join the Winding Stairs Trail, which is where we should have been. We have been wandering in the wilderness along the river for several hours. It is another mile to the Viles Branch and it’s getting late. We get moving. Soon we rejoice again, arriving at a sign post indicating “Eagle Rock Loop.” Here we turn west and are finally trodding the Viles Branch. We come to a wide crossing – hopefully our last. Three hikers have just crossed from the other side and we ask them for bearings. They coach us on the best path for crossing and where to find campsites. We hurry along while we have sunlight, knowing we had better put some miles behind us. Twilight is falling as the first campsite comes into view. It is occupied by a young woman who doesn’t seem to welcome our gaggle of hikers. “There’s another campsite about five minutes up the trail,” she says. We arrive there in near darkness and it too is occupied but we have run out of time. We greet the occupant and ask his permission to camp. To our relief, he is cordial, and in a thick southern drawl introduces himself as Wade from Mississippi. We hastily pitch our tents and filter water while we have light, then visit with Wade as we cook dinner. What we learn is alarming. He is hiking the loop counterclockwise and started at Little Missouri Falls yesterday. "I’ve gone almost 20 miles,” he says, asserting his satellite phone can prove it. If this is true, we have at least 16 miles to go tomorrow. “And those mountains are brutal,” he adds. How is this possible? Mary’s GPS shows 11 miles today and, while we know that some of it was wandering, we can’t be this far behind. According to the map, such as it is, we should have only 8 or 9 more miles to go. “We should bail out when we get to Road 106,” says one of the girls, referring to the closest parking area. “It’s just too far to go to finish tomorrow.” Panic is setting in. Mary and I confer. “Why don’t we get an early start and see how it goes?” she says. “I agree,” I say. “And just because there is a road up ahead doesn’t mean there will be taxis waiting to ferry us back to the trailhead.” We set our alarms and try to sleep. Day 3 on the Eagle Rock Loop We rise at six, breaking camp in the dark and rolling out at sunrise. I lead, moving as quickly as possible to get us out of here. Shay hikes at the front with me and I show her the trail signs – blazes and brightly colored tape. We quickly put the remainder of the Viles Branch Trail behind us and breathe easier when we reach the parking lot at Road 106. It is exactly where it should be. Tim Ernst was right. Now we do know we can finish today and there is no more talk of bailing out. A signpost says we are five miles from the end and we push on. Where Wade was wrong about the distance, he was right about the mountains. The climbs are long and steep. Lack of adequate conditioning and heavy packs make it even tougher. We share the weight of our companions and soon I drop back and let Shay lead, trying to encourage those who are struggling at the rear. This has to end at some point but the mountains keep coming. Soon we hear a shout of joy from our leaders. They have found the trail’s terminus. We’ve made it! We finish just after 2 o’clock, hiking 10.1 miles today. As we return to the trailhead, the westerly trail is obvious. It is even marked with orange tape. How we missed it is a mystery – one of many on the Eagle Rock Loop. Need to Know Information Eagle Rock Loop travels through the southwestern portion of the Ouachita National Forest, offering the longest loop hike in Arkansas. It is formed from a combination of the Little Missouri, Viles Branch, and Athens-Big Fork Trails. Camping is allowed anywhere along the trail, but not in the Albert Pike Recreation Area or any of the parking areas. No permits are needed to hike or camp. Trail difficulty ranges from “easy” to “most difficult.” It has numerous water crossings and travels over nine mountains. Best Time to Go Late fall, winter and early spring are best for cooler temperatures, minimal undergrowth and insects, fall colors and spring wildflowers. Getting There There are five trailheads/parking areas on the loop, with the nearest communities being Mena, Mt. Ida, Langley and Glenwood, Arkansas. Consult the guidebook and maps. Maps Forest Service Map. For getting to and from the trailhead and overall planning the Delorme Arkansas Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful. Books Arkansas Hiking Trails, Tim Ernst. About the Author Susan Dragoo is a writer and photographer living in Norman, Oklahoma. Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 14 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

I’m no stranger to a new challenge. Two years ago, after two decades as a carpenter and building contractor, I took a chance and changed my life. Though sawdust runs in my veins and I’ve always imagined myself as a builder to the end, the only other profession I thought I might like is teaching. In October 2019 that notion became reality when I became an instructor in the Building Construction Technology Program at a local Community College. That’s when the challenge began. The idea of teaching inspired me on many levels: training the next generation of builders, being part of a learning and teaching community, and, I won’t deny it, a steady paycheck (with benefits!). But above all, and for the first time in my adult life, I’d have the summers off. Then two things happened – one good, one bad. First, a global pandemic – the bad. Then, a promotion to Department Chair – the good. Both new challenges, both pulling me out of my comfort zone, both impacting the first magical summer off I'd dreamed of. Summer of 2020. Homebound. Home improvements. Summer hints at fall. One of my three sons, Milo, also about to head back to college and thoroughly sick of going-nowhere-doing-nothing pulled a promise out of me: Next summer, Papa, we’re going backpacking, and we’re going big. I’d be lying if I said we spent the next year planning our epic adventure. It wasn’t until spring break, when my wife caught wind of our scheme, that the planning really began, because, you see, she saw this as an opportunity – to get rid of me, her firstborn, and her testosterone-addled identical teen twins for some well-deserved peace. Katahdin, Milo said, I want to climb Katahdin. Maine’s crown jewel, Katahdin is also the northern end of the 2,193-mile Appalachian Trail (AT). It stands a mile high and is enshrined by the pristine wilderness of Baxter State Park. And the approach to Baxter, the final section north-bound thru-hikers on the AT traverse, is the 100-Mile Wilderness. That would be our adventure, our challenge. You’d think we’d be daunted, one forty-something man and his three teenage sons. But five years ago, as a family we thru-hiked the 500-mile Colorado Trail through the Rocky Mountains – 45 days straight. One hundred miles in our backyard could not possibly be any more difficult. A Hike through Maine's 100-Mile Wilderness Begins We collected our gear, I dropped half a paycheck on trail food, and we stuffed our packs for a ten-day adventure. First week in August, my Dad dropped us off at the trailhead in Monson where the AT crosses Maine Route 15, the last paved road we would see for 100 miles. He snapped a photo of us, beaming with ambition, then drove off. Nothing to do now but walk. Trees grow like weeds in Maine, and it took only a moment to be swallowed up into the lush, dense mixed-deciduous forest. All the noise of civilization, the stench of society, and even the pandemic faded away with each step. We were free. The first day rolled by, the sun dried the previous day’s rain from the leaves, mushrooms and lichen grew on every surface, colorful exceptions to the green world we hiked through. Several hours and six and a half miles later our first trailside attraction halted our march – 60 cascading feet of water, Little Wilson Falls. Lunching with my bare feet in the stream, I watched the boys plunge into the pool at the base of the falls. Recharged and refreshed, we felt we were good for a ten or twelve-mile day, half-way there. Unlike the Colorado Trail, the AT has lean-to shelters conveniently located every five miles or so. But given the popularity of the trail, securing a spot in shelter is never a guarantee. After consulting a map, we targeted the Long Pond Stream lean-to. The afternoon’s hike was punctuated by a break in the canopy at Big Wilson Cliffs. Our first view, a carpet of leaves, a hazy sky. We didn’t get a lean-to that night – ultimately would only get three nights out of ten with a roof over our heads the whole trip. Hiking the 100-Mile Wilderness from south to north is the hard way. We were doing it the hard way. After day one, the Barren-Chairback Range rises and drops 750 feet at a time as it blazes over the peaks of Barren (2650’), Fourth (2,383’), Third (2,090’), Columbus (2,350’), and Chairback (2,190’) Mountains. I had basically had an office job for the past year and a half, so peak physical condition was something I only saw on Netflix, certainly not in the mirror. I quickly realized keeping pace with three strapping lads would be a challenge. Glad I had poles. On the uphills I pulled up the proverbial rear, red, panting, and dripping. But descending, I managed to keep up with the bounding youths – straight down, jumping from rock to rock. This I would later regret. Following the Barren-Chairbacks we crossed the West Branch of the Pleasant River and entered the mythical Hermitage, an old-growth pine forest with trees five feet in diameter. The Hermitage gives way to Gulf Hagas – the Grand Canyon of the East. The chiseled-slate canyon, carved by the Pleasant River, is an unending string of pools and waterfalls with cliffs steep enough to warrant respect. We didn’t have the time or energy for the eight-mile loop. Another scramble of peaks – Gulf Hagas (2,690’), West Peak (3,178), Hay Mountain (3,250’), and White Cap (3,654’), where we got our first distant view of Katahdin, still so far away. How could such a massive mountain appear so small? On the trail pain sneaks up on you. You can’t point to a single injury-incident. It’s the repeated and cumulative effect of the joint-pounding downhills. As long as you keep hiking, ignore the pain, focus on the next step, you can keep going. But once you stop, the pain rises to the surface. Halfway through the trip, I started waking to a slightly broken body. Lame. Ibuprofen helped. Of course, the boys fared better than I. Oh, to be young again. Coupled with the pain, something else creeped up on us – the funk. Dirty, sweaty, smelly clothes, shoes, and bodies. The only solution was swimming. The 100-Mile Wilderness is riddled with ponds and lakes, some small enough to skip a stone across and some so large they have surf. My favorite was Lower Jo-Mary Lake. We got into Antlers Campsite on Jo-Mary before any other hikers and set up camp in a prime spot at the end of a peninsula dotted with wind-blown pine. We swam, washed clothes, and waited for sunset. The wind continued through the night, howling through the trees above our tent. The next day and our last mountain before Baxter – Little Boardman (2,017’). At the peak, Katahdin appeared bigger, closer. We could do this. Bolstering our optimism, the map showed the next 30 miles were basically flat, a rolling plane of monster trees parading through the Katahdin Forest and Nahmakanta Public Lands. I read somewhere that when the first European settlers landed in North America the forest scared them. It was dark, towering, foreboding. The trees were the legs of giants, standing at a scale greater than the world they knew. Their only defense was to chop them down. Most of Maine’s forests have been cut to the ground at least four times. But these tracts of land we hiked over have not been mowed down, many of the trees have stood for over a century, linking arms, proud, safe. A night of rain gave way to overcast and drizzle in the morning. It was our last 14 miles of the wilderness. Pushing your body to its physical limit causes calorie-deprivation. The brain’s natural reaction – fixate on food. Imagine what you could be eating instead of trail mix and jerky. Make up new food. Compose menus. Stomach grumble – eggs, sausage, bacon, fresh fruit, pizza… Struggling to keep our footing we passed over the rain-slicked Rainbow Ledges. Off the trail, under the conifers, a continuous mat of moss sponged up the water dripping from the needles above. We were wet and miserable. And then in an anti-climactic moment we approached a sign marking the northern end of the 100 Mile Wilderness. A few hundred yards later and we were dumped out onto Maine’s infamous dirt highway – the Golden Road. Pulp trucks lumbered by laden with logs. We crossed the bridge over the West Branch of the Penobscot and into Abol Bridge Campground just outside Baxter State Park. We planned to spend our last night in the park at a lean-to site reserved for thru-hikers. But at the privately-owned Abol Bridge Campground, where RV’s and bunkhouses occupied a loop road under the birches, we learned from a ranger that the lean-tos were full. And because we didn’t have a reservation in Baxter, we wouldn’t be able to hike to the foot of Katahdin – base camp for our long-awaited ascent. The twins and I wanted to call it quits, to call their Mama to come pick us up a day early. I felt defeated. Milo would have none of it. He insisted, if we weren’t hiking Katahdin, then he’d go it alone. The twins were fine with that, but it didn’t settle well with me. I couldn’t let Milo down; we had to go on. It meant we’d have to shell out $140 for one night in the private campground, get up early and hike 5.5 miles into the park to the start of the Hunt Trail, and get there with enough time to hike up and down Maine’s largest mountain. Katahdin and the end of a Backpacking Trip on the Appalachian Trail The last day dawned with vestiges of the previous day’s clouds shrouding Baxter Peak, Katahdin’s high point. We donned our packs and were off. Katahdin is a pile of broken rock. At times the trail is nothing more than slabs of barely navigable granite sharp enough to cut a bare leg or knee. At elevation, trees are short and stunted. The sky opens up, crows struggle in the wind, and the land below becomes a mosaic of leaves, needles, and water. It is literally sacred ground. A steady stream of hikers varying in levels of preparedness swarmed the mountain. A precipitous rise leveled off onto the Table Lands, a gradual slope of tundra, the approach to the peak. At the top, 360-degrees of splendor captivated us. Held us quiet. Meanwhile the peak-scene resembled an Instagram photo shoot. Selfies, group photos, panoramic camera sweeps, even some phone calls. We tipped our greasy hats to the mountain and hobbled our way down to meet Mama. It was over. I lost nine pounds in ten days, and it took another ten days for me to recover full operation of my knees. But what I gained overshadowed the loss. It may sound trite to say it, but the distraction-free time I spent with my boys – without screens, without obligation to society, jobs, and chores – is something I will cherish for the rest of my days. To think, none of this would have happened if I didn’t take a chance on change, rise to the new opportunity as a teacher, accept the challenge. Are you ready for a change? Where is the trailhead to your 100-Mile Wilderness? Information Resources for hiking this section of the Appalachian Trail include the 100-Mile Wilderness Map & Guide as well as Hiking Maine's 100 Mile Wilderness, a Falcon Guide. 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.

Strips of jerky make delicious snacks as well as fabulous stews. Jerky is remarkably simple to create: slice, marinade, and dehydrate strips of meat. The key to texture is in the cut of meat and thickness, and the key to flavor is the marinade. In Backpackers’ Ultra Food I have several marinade recipes that are designed to compliment certain ethnic dishes, such as curry and Mexican spice. Each jerky can be adapted to more specific tastes. More or less spicy; different dishes; crispy or chewy. However, don’t skimp on the quality of meat you purchase. I recommend free-range lean cuts of beef, buffalo, or lamb and cage-free poultry. When you are exercising hard you want the best you can get. This jerky recipe is designed to complement a lentil stew flavored with the Indian spice garam masala, which basically means hot and spicy. For quicker preparation purchase pre-mixed garam masala. At Home: Lentils 2 cups lentils 1 onion 4-6 garlic cloves 1 lb spinach 1 cup peas 2 cups low-fat chicken broth 2 cups water 1 tbs coconut oil ¾ tsp salt garam masala seasoning (see below) Bring lentils, onion, garlic, spinach, peas, broth, water, and oil to a rapid simmer and then reduce the heat to low. Cook 15 minutes. Add onion, garlic, spinach, peas, salt, and garam masala seasoning to taste. Cook another 10 minutes or until lentils are tender. Blend and dehydrate. Remember: Any pureed soup can be dried into “bark” and reconstituted. At Home: Garam Masala seasoning Combine 1 tsp chili powder (or to taste) 1 tsp ground coriander 1 tsp turmeric 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper 1 tsp teaspoon ground cumin 1 tsp teaspoon ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon cayenne (or to taste) 1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves It’s easy to grind these spices in a coffee grinder and fresh-ground is very aromatic. At Home: Garam Masala Marinade Combine 1 small jar red curry paste 1 cup apple cider vinegar 1/2 cup coconut oil 2-inch piece of ginger, chopped 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper 1/4 teaspoon garlic, minced 1 small onion, chopped dash of soy sauce (saltiness to taste) 1 tbs garam masala seasoning (or to taste) At Home: Jerky 2 lbs top round steak Partially freeze then slice steaks into long, thin strips. Trim and discard all the fat, which can become rancid. If you like a chewy jerky, slice with the grain into 1/4-inch strips. Slice thinner across the grain for a crispier jerky. Place in marinade overnight. Dehydrate with high enough heat until cooked completely. On the Trail Rehydrate jerky in 2 cups water in a double zip-style baggy during last hour of hiking and/or while you are setting up camp. In Camp Rehydrate and simmer lentil bark in 4 cups hot water. Add jerky. Optional: Add sundried tomatoes or other fried veggies and/or top with sunflower seeds. Enjoy. Find more recipes in Backpackers’ Ultra Food by Cinny Green along with more tips, techniques, and recipes to elevate eating on the trail. You can find the book here at Amazon.com.

A long hike is more than a short hike extended. At nearly 500 miles long, it takes a million steps to get from Denver to Durango on the Colorado Trail. A million is, by just about anyone's reckoning, a large number. And that means that long hikes are subject to the Law of Large Numbers: anything that is not impossible is inevitable. Hike long enough and you will see beauty on a grand scale as well as many tiny ones, experience freakish weather, fall down, get lost on an easily-followed route, see unfamiliar birds and flowers and animals, encounter odd people, be surprised by gear failures, and receive unanticipated kindnesses and unexpected moments of both bliss and gloom. Take enough steps – and a million is usually enough – and all of these things will happen. Hikes of a few days or maybe a week tend to be goal-oriented: get to the lake, get to the summit, complete the loop. A long hike too has a nominal goal: get to Canada or Katahdin or maybe Durango. But this goal is so far removed from all but the last few days of the hike that it becomes meaningless, a nonce word for the benefit of trailside interlocutors, an evanescence. One's focus is instead on the instant and the immanent: the next pass, the next water source, the next break, the night's campsite. But even these goals fade and dissolve, as there are many passes and campsites behind and many more ahead. You will climb that pass when you get to it, find a campsite when the day nears its end. There are birds singing, sun shining hot or rain falling cold, flowers blooming, grass waving, bugs hopping, wind and sky and clouds. Always there is the trail, a trail that is by turns smooth, rough, slippery, wet, steep, gentle, narrow, wide, or non-existent. The trail pulls you along step by step, an almost umbilical connection that orients and engrosses even when it is barely noticed. The trail becomes like water to a fish or air to a bird; it is there, it is all around, it bounds one's world even as it leads to new worlds. You are on the trail; you are of the trail. The transition from short hike to long hike is different for every hiker and for every hike. For me, it began somewhere around mile 125 of the Colorado Trail (CT) on the extended tundra walk across Elk Ridge. From a section hike some years previous I remembered the hike up Guller Creek to Searle Pass to be something of a slog, but now found myself up there almost before I realized it, without much effort or strain. My feet, which had been stumbling and slipping for the first hundred miles, seemed to be operating without much conscious supervision. My mind was no longer attuned to the mechanics or the effort of walking; these took care of themselves. I was in the zone, the mental state where I could just enjoy the sensation of flowing through the wilderness without worry or words. I was through-hiking. Or maybe just walking. Walking: it is among the most fundamental of human acts and attributes. As infants, learning to walk changes our relationship with the world forever. We no longer wait for the world to come to us; we go to it. It is no coincidence that we learn to talk at about the same time we begin to walk. One skill lets us describe our world; the other opens the world that our words describe. Together, these skills transform us into an active agent in the world, able to see beyond the next bend, the next rise, to imagine the possibility of a better place, and to then take ourselves to those places. We are good at walking. Some thinkers reflect on human physical skills and wonder how we survived: we are not fast, nor especially strong, we are not sharp of tooth or strong of claw. But if we were not good walkers, perhaps our cleverness would be for naught. We might never have survived the various droughts and ice ages that wiped out other large mammals. When things got bad, when the climate did not suit our clothes, we got up and left, going down the road feeling bad, looking for a place where the water tastes great and the chilly winds don't blow. Walking is what we do. On the Colorado Trail And I am on the trail, doing my best to put this skill to use. The tundra on Elk Ridge is still soggy and brown due to the late wet spring, and flowers are scarce, but the view is still one of the best in Colorado – the wild ragged peaks of the Gore Range to the north, Mt. Holy Cross to the west, Mts. Massive and Elbert to the southwest, Jacque Peak and the Tenmile range to the south. My feet are quickly soaked – a condition that would persist for weeks through a rainy July – but I don't much mind as the walking is fine. Snowmelt springs fill every gully and provide the finest and purest drinking water imaginable. I continue across the ridge and through Kokomo Pass, down Cascade Creek with a stop at the falls where it empties into Eagle Park. The CT follows the road into Camp Hale here, but I cut over to the Eagle River and get out my Tenkara rod, casting into every likely looking pool while following the river. Fishing with my pack on, I land a quartet of fat brook trout before intersecting with the trail, and beginning the hike up toward Tennessee Pass. Although I end up camping rather close to the highway, it's hard to imagine a much better day of hiking. The next days take me through the Mt. Massive Wilderness, where the late snows and daily rain showers have kept the route muddy and well-provided with mosquitoes. On a high ridge overlooking Leadville, I get out my phone and check the CT Facebook group. There is an invitation from the Colorado Trail House, a recently opened hostel, to join them tomorrow for a barbeque and live stream of the Grateful Dead's farewell concert. Tomorrow will be July 4th – what could be more American and patriotic than hamburgers, beer, and the Dead? I hustle down the trail the next morning to Halfmoon Creek, hitch a ride into Leadville and soon join a dozen hikers, travelers, and locals in partaking of Rick and Becca's hospitality, all of us in our own way reveling in the freedom of the trail and of our lives in the USA. The next morning Rick drops Reed and me off at the trailhead. The forecast from Leadville was two days of rain followed by a clearing trend, and we hike unsurprised through the drizzle to the Mt. Elbert trail junction. I am not much of a peakbagger – my last 14er was Long's Peak in 1985, and that hardly counts as there is a county ordinance requiring all residents of Boulder to climb Long's at least once. But Elbert is the highest peak in Colorado, the Rockies, the Mississippi Basin and the second-highest peak in the contiguous states. It would be a source of everlasting shame not to make the four-mile detour off the CT and climb it. Reed and I climb a thousand feet or so up the steep trail, looking for a sheltered campsite before we hit treeline. He settles for a small site that has a suspicious bit of toilet paper sticking up out of the ground; I continue on and am rewarded with a bench site with open views of the Arkansas Valley. The rain slacks, the clouds part a bit, and I watch a hanging rainbow form and dissipate over the valley. Given the threatening weather, I am scrupulous in getting an alpine start the next morning, though not at the expense of forgoing my morning coffee. I am well above timberline when the sun eases up over the Buffalo Peaks and its rays wedge between the clouds, opening up views of the Collegiates to the south, Mt. Massive to the north, and Twin Lakes and the Arkansas River below. The thin light provokes a pair of ptarmigans to fly screeching down the lee side of the ridgeline out of the cold buffeting north wind. The views continue to expand until I hit the 14,000-foot level, where a cloud layer is well-settled. I spend a half-hour at the top hoping for a break, but am driven down by the cold wet wind without getting my summit view. I head down the trail passing dozens of hikers heading up, including a sixty-eight year old man heading for his sixty-eighth summit of a 14er – and first after heart surgery. There is also a trio of CDT northbounders carrying their full packs up the south trail to the summit, where they will continue their through-hike down the north trail back to the CT/CDT. We need all the hikers we can get; they will make the country better. The CT is at an interesting stage of development. It is not nearly as popular as the AT or PCT, the latter being especially busy this year due to the Wild movie effect. Most days I pass a couple of NOBO CDTers, but encounter no other CT hikers. There is not a lot of trail angeling going on – a bag of Jolly Ranchers in Long Gulch (mile 50) and a cooler full of sodas near Wurtz Ditch (mile 145) are the only stationary trail magic I will encounter – but the operators of hostels and stores in the towns along the CT are aware of the trail and no longer mistake hikers for hobos. Ten years ago I was only grudgingly served a hamburger at the Mt. Princeton resort, and the server seemed shocked when I paid by credit card. But now we have become welcome customers. Even better, stores have begun stocking items that hikers need – HEET, canisters, freeze-dried dinners, Pop-Tarts, Snickers, and more – as I discover when I make it down to the Twin Lakes General Store later in the morning. As pleased as I am with the General Store, I am distressed by the lack of opportunities for a second breakfast, as I have been craving waffles all day. The dining room at the Twin Lakes Inn does not open until 2p.m., so the hikers hang out at the primitive cabin rented out by the general store, sorting resupplies, trading information on trail conditions and hikers ahead and behind, eating junk food, and being stared at by tourists heading to Aspen. We wave; most wave back with delighted grins, some snap their heads forward and pretend they weren't looking. Not everyone is ready to distinguish hikers from hobos. It starts raining, and I head for my room at the inn for a nap. A check of the weather report reveals a forecast of rain for the next two days followed by a clearing trend, so I decide to stay an extra day. I am meeting my wife in Salida and am a day ahead of schedule; no point in spending an extra day dawdling on the trail in the rain. We pay our bill and adjourn to the hiker shack for more talk, but soon it is well past 9, almost 10, a scandalously late hour for hikers. In the morning we split between those following the standard East Collegiate route and those going west. The east route skirts the Arkansas face of the Collegiate Range. Although it has plenty of up and down, the elevations are mostly below 11,000 feet and the trail is a forest trail. The west route follows the CDT up and over Hope Pass, Lake Ann Pass, and a host of other passes named and unnamed, threading its way through and around a series of 14ers. It is largely above treeline and mostly exposed. The weather makes me consider taking the east route, but I have section-hiked it before and so go west. I can deal with the rain. The rain does not take long to appear, and my poncho is on before I have finished the 2 miles of road walk to the Willis Gulch Trailhead. I stop to pull out my phone and check my location and a chickadee flies out from its nest in a nearby bush, bravely attacking me and driving me off. I pick up Hamid along the way, the only other hiker going the west route, and we hike together until he gets ahead and takes a wrong turn while I am dawdling. It's a 3000 foot climb up to Hope Pass and not great fun in the rain, but it is just rain – there is no thunder and lightning to stop my progress. The rain lets up for a while and I enjoy a break on the lee side of the pass, with its views of Missouri, Columbia, LaPlata, Huron, and other 14ers before heading down to Clear Creek and beginning the climb up to Lake Ann Pass through intermittent showers. The wildlife takes advantage of the occasional breaks in the weather, and I see deer, beavers, and woodpeckers going about their business. I stop below timberline, take off my poncho and pitch it as a tarp. Although it has rained most of the day, I am only wet from the knees and elbows out, and quickly dry off using one of my three bandannas, change into a dry pair of socks (I brought four), and enjoy an appetizer of triple chocolate trail mix. It begins raining again after dinner, this time with thunder and wind and I sleep all the more soundly, secure and warm under tarp, bivy sack, and sleeping bag. I've passed an important trail marker, but it is not one that measures miles. It is the one that says I have passed the point of worrying about the weather or anything else on the trail. It's the one that says "This way: just keep walking". Need to Know Information The best information on the Colorado Trail comes from the Colorado Trail Foundation. If you are hiking the trail (or even just thinking about it), you should donate money or sweat to the foundation to help maintain this national treasure. Best Time to Go June through September to avoid most early season snowpack and chilly fall weather / snow. Getting There Neither of the trail terminals are very accessible by public transportation. Unless someone is driving you, you will need some combination of planes, light rail, buses, and taxis to get to Waterton Canyon (near Denver), Junction Creek (near Durango), or any points between. Book and Maps The official data book can be found here at Amazon. The current data book has been updated to include the new (and superb) section of the Collegiate West Route. The Colorado Trail Guidebook is also a suggested resource. It contained all the information I needed for planning. The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Colorado Trail Map Pack covers the trail. On the trail I used FarOut's CT app frequently, and found it well-designed and very useful. It includes the current Collegiate West Route. Editor's Note: You can read part 2 and the continuation of this article here in Issue 27. This article by contributor Drew "HappyHour" Smith originally appeared in Issue 27 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content. Download the high definition copy of Issue 27 here ($10) or included with an active TrailGroove Premium Subscription.

After a cold day of backcountry skiing, a sheltered spot is found for a campsite. A snug spot located in the trees, it has an excellent view of both Mitchell Lake and the Continental Divide above. The shelter is soon erected, warm and dry clothes are changed into, and the stove is fired up. Dinner is cooked and consumed. But it is not quite ready to be called a night. The sun is setting and the alpenglow on the mountains is delightful. The stove is fired up again. A drink is quickly made. A warm and delicious beverage completes the night. Life is good. Is there anything better than a hot chocolate cheesecake smoothie to drink in the cold winter night? A chocolate cheesecake smoothie is a combination beverage and dessert that is perfect for any backcountry winter activity. Yummy and full of calories, it is ideal for helping to keep the inner furnace stoked until morning comes. Ingredients 1 tbsp whole milk powder (Nido) 4 oz. no-bake cheesecake mix 3 oz. hot chocolate mix At Home Take all ingredients and place in a re-sealable plastic bag. Shake and mix thoroughly. At Camp Pour mixture into a 16 oz. mug or a Nalgene bottle, add hot water and stir. Add enough water until the desired consistency is reached. Want it thicker and more dessert like? Add less water. Want it more beverage-like? Add more water. I personally like it on the beverage side of the smoothie equation as it helps to hydrate, too. The cheesecake smoothie is very versatile. Add your favorite instant coffee to make a mocha. Or brew up some very strong fruit flavored herbal tea and make a berry-flavored cheesecake smoothie instead. Double the recipe to share with friends. Going on a day Nordic ski tour? Make this tasty treat at home and throw it into a Thermos. The delicious goodness will be appreciated for sure. Editor's Note: This recipe by contributor Paul Magnanti originally appeared in Issue 20 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Canada. The Yukon: it’s almost synonymous with adventure. And exploring the glaciated terrain of Kluane National Park on foot is an exercise in adventure any way you go about it. Just a few miles into our trip, the trail we’d been following quickly dispersed into a vast valley that I am certain some countries could fit into. The trail of your choosing was the only real path through the snaking mud pits of the low and glaciated brown river. The river which, I assumed in spring, covered our walkway. But the expanse was so vast that you could see for at least ten miles ahead which made nearly every washed down stump, rock, and brown object look like a massive grizzly in the blurry waves of heat rising up from the ground. But as always, as we got closer to these elusive grizzly stumps, they deceivingly turned out to be just a washed down piece of debris from the massive glacier ahead. And gratefully, so. A Kluane National Park Backpacking Trip Prior to all this, at the visitor center for backcountry registration in downtown Haines Junction, a 45 minute safety briefing was had, as well as the post hike instructions to make contact upon the return to your vehicle seemed ominious; the thoughts of joy and beautiful imagery seemed like a far distant shore in this endlessly described predatory sea of a backpacking trip. The center detailed how the park held the most genetically diverse population of grizzlies in the world, complete with a live screen of tracked bears in and around the trail where our 14-mile one-way trek to the Kaskawulsh Glacier was to take place. Don’t get me wrong, the informative briefing of the hike and the professionalism of the center was there, but I was curious leaving the building how many backpackers have showed up to get their permits, and then proceeded not to hike after getting it. We set off and were immediately greeted by the simple silence and pure awe of the park. We had to ford a river, which we found to be a surprisingly refreshing ordeal even though, at the visitor center, they made it sound like a terrifying prospect. A father and son crossed the river shortly after we did and sadly fell in and got most of their gear wet. But with Kluane being a literal alpine desert on the inland side of this giant coastal range, with the sun almost never setting, the possibility of getting their gear dried was rather high. Shortly after the first and only river crossing of the 14-mile one-way trek, we were greeted with the sight of a rabbit that had met an untimely end. The beginning of the hike was rather mellow and filled with the rhythmic noise we made to hopefully steer any carnivores away before we witnessed them. But once we rounded the corner of this giant valley after nearly 10 monotonous miles of chasing fluvial fans from the peaks to our right, we were greeted with the view of the glacier with the magnificent glaciated peaks that rise above it. But the funniest part of the entire trek there wasn’t the fact that a single bear or print was witnessed, but upon our arrival to camp, we found over a dozen other backpackers from different corners of the globe. All I had to do was look around and realize that we were in one of the largest pieces of conserved land on the planet, deep in bear country. I had to pinch myself for freaking out from fear during the hike, as now the thoughts of a large carnivorous being were a far distant memory on this social hour of a backpacking trip. Like at any hostel, the people you meet the night before vanish the next day, almost never to be seen again. Though we were able to say our goodbyes to some and exchange contact info, I couldn’t help but chuckle at what transpired. Never did I imagine the sociability of what had happened. But as it came time for us to leave as well, we were again alone in the giant alien world of this glaciated river valley. We woke early to get a head start, as I wanted to see what the sunrise colors would do to the valley. Beams of light shot through the peaks like a child making shadow puppets with a flashlight. And as the light began to paint the riverbed, we were greeted with our first set of fresh bear prints. Clearly made during the previous night, or shortly before our arrival. Again, that feeling of discomfort shot back through me and I obsessively scanned the horizon for those ever numerous giant brown rocks and tree stumps. But with the rest of the five or so miles seeming to be this never ending scan of moving brown objects, we stumbled upon some more tracks and eventually made it back to the car. We threw our packs down and cheered to a safe and successful trip in a remote corner of Canada. Need to Know Information The best place, as well as a mandatory visit before you hike is to stop at the visitor center in Haines Junction, Yukon. Here is where you will have to get a backcountry permit as well as a briefing and general overview of accessible trails. For more information before the trip, take a look at the Parks Canada Website. See the Hiking the Donjek (Dän Zhùr) Route article for a report on that trip / route within the park. Best Time to Go Summer or close to it is typically when most people plan their hikes. The average temperature in June is in the mid 50’s and in January, well, it’s in the negatives…daylight hours are almost 20 in June and four in January. Getting There From Whitehorse, head west on highway one to Haines Junction. Whitehorse, Yukon is the nearest international airport on the Canadian side for access to Kluane. From Haines Junction, you can travel north on Highway one to Destruction Bay, or South on highway three towards Klukshu and eventually Alaska. Maps and Books Kluane National Park Hiking Guide by Vivien Lougheed. Parks Canada offers a downloadable recreation map, that’s also available for purchase at the visitor center. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sean Jansen originally appeared in Issue 37 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

I smiled as the white sprinter van disappeared down the road, leaving me with only one way home, the trail in front of me. Months of planning and waiting had finally come to an end as I started down the dirt path with my friend Jon. Jon had flown out to Colorado 18 hours earlier, and had driven through the night with me to southwest Utah. This trip had been 3 years in the making; ever since I had seen the Kolob Canyons of West Zion in May, 2009 and decided I must come back. Ahead of me waited 4 days and 70 miles of trails and canyons as I traveled through the park. A Zion Hike: The Plan When it comes to exploring the Zion backcountry, the obvious choice is the Zion Grand Traverse. Without any side trips, the route is 49 miles with 10,000 feet of elevation gain, covering the entire park from the Lee’s Pass in the west to the east entrance. The traverse, however, skips out on one of the most sought after activities in Zion, canyons. I wanted the best of both worlds but without getting overly technical, so I chose to link up the Grand Traverse with hiking the Narrows of the Virgin River from the top down. While planning for my trip, I found that for it to work within the timeframe I had available, I would need to reserve two permits, one for the night I would stay on the west rim, and one for the night I would stay in the narrows. These permits are available through an online calendar system, and would need to be reserved at 10am on the 5th of the month, three months prior to the month I wanted like to camp in Zion. The other reservations that would be needed were two shuttles, one from Springdale to Lee’s Pass, and another from the East Entrance to Chamberlain Ranch. The shuttle prices may be steep, however it was more convenient than driving out a second car and saved us a lot of time. The last step in the planning process was the gear. Because of the Zion climate, I brought a lightweight backpacking setup that would be suitable for dry desert hiking, with forecasted lows to be above 40 degrees. The only specialized gear I bought was a pair of approach shoes and a few drybags. The shoes were a non-waterproof, synthetic upper approach shoe with a very sticky but durable climbing rubber sole. This gave me a shoe that would drain and dry quickly when wet, provide traction, and hold up to the many miles the trip would cover. The dry bags were to keep essentials dry if our packs were submerged during the river decent. A Backpacking Traverse Across Zion National Park As Jon and I started down the trail from Lee’s Pass, I had to remind myself that the first half of the day would give me a false sense of security about the water supply in the region. After 4.5 miles of hiking down along the magnificent sand stone pillars and faces of the Kolob Canyons, the trail intersects La Verkin Creek, a year round water source for the region and the second largest water resource in the park. In many spots along the trail, pools formed that were deep enough to swim in, so Jon and I took full advantage by soaking our feet and enjoying the rare commodity in the desert. Frogs and insects were everywhere, all dependent on the creek that nourished the ecosystem that surrounded it. After 7 miles, we found the first detour of the trip, an out and back trail to see the Kolob Arch, the second largest natural arch in the world. While not as spectacular as Arches national park and the arches I’ve seen in Canyonlands, it was still a worthwhile side trip, and the viewing area made a good lunch spot. After getting back onto the main trail, another quarter mile led us to the best water source in the area. The Beatty Spring is on the south side of the creek, just to the right of the trail before it heads uphill. On this trip the water was flowing very well with very good tasting water and we filled up as much water as we could carry. After leaving the creek and a steep hike uphill, we found ourselves in a wide trail-less valley surrounded by cows called the Hop Valley. It was a beautiful area, and gave us a sense of off trail cross country travel. The little bit of water in the valley did not appear safe to drink, so we left it alone. Backpackers wishing to make the first day shorter may want to camp in Hop Valley at the designated campsites on the north side. This southern part of the valley is a patchwork of private and national park land, where private livestock is grazed. We exited the valley following a rarely used private road that lead us back to national park land, and to our next trail junction at the Kolob Terrace Road. Here we picked up the water we had planted earlier that day on the shuttle ride, which would be needed for dinner and keeping hydrated in the hot, dry desert environment. From there we followed the connector trail uphill near the road, providing beautiful views of the start of the west rim area. A few years ago, dispersed camping was allowed along the connector trail, however new restrictions by the park service eliminated any camping in the area, meaning we would need to make it to the Northgate Peaks trail junction where dispersed camping was allowed. As we neared the junction, we came upon a beautiful pine forest just as the sun was setting on day one of our trip. After setting up our tent and chowing down on our dinner, we fell fast asleep while listening to the insects. As we packed up camp for the start of day two, I was reminded of our luck in the weather. The high desert of the Colorado Plateau that stretches across southern Utah is no stranger to wild weather. We were on the tail end of monsoon season, and our trip had started off with a blue bird day. The high pressure system over the area kept it that way for the remainder of the trip, giving us only the occasional white puffy cloud. The storms that hit Zion every summer can cause flash flooding, and on the high exposed section of the trail coming up, we would have virtually no cover from weather. Ahead was the highpoint of our trip, lava point, a small plateau at 7890 feet with an outstanding overlook of our route down the west rim trail. As we traveled towards Lava Point, we reached our next water source, the first natural one since leaving Beatty Spring. This spring under the lava rock scree fields on the rim of Wildcat Canyon was a small trickle, and surrounded by honey bees. With most of the trail being downhill today, our water needs were lessened and we did not have to spend much time at the spring, just filling up enough water to keep us happy, knowing that there are water sources ahead at Sawmill Spring, Potato Hollow, and at Cabin Spring near our next campsite. As we started downhill along the west rim trail, the view was immense to our left side. As we looked east, we knew that somewhere in the distance Deep Creek and the Virgin River were flowing down the canyon we would be hiking down in two days. As we worked our way down the west rim, we enjoyed of the spectacular drops and carved canyons of the west rim as we passed viewpoint after viewpoint. We sat and tried to comprehend the vastness that lay in front of us, seeming almost unreal. The views disappeared for a few miles as we descended into Potato Hollow. As we hiked out of Potato Hollow, we found ourselves at the junction of the shorter Telephone Canyon route and the continuance of the west rim trail. We chose to follow our plan and continue down the west rim, again being treated to spectacular views. As we neared our destination for the day, campsite #2 near cabin spring, the main canyon of Zion came into view. Again Jon and I set up our camp and spent the remainder of the evening watching the sunset colors reflect off the walls of the main canyon of Zion, and as the light faded, the stars began to come out, filling up the vast blackness with millions of tiny lights. The last day of our traverse posed an interesting challenge. No matter how you set up your permit for the Narrows, you are required to pick it up in person the day before your trip. So we were forced to take a detour mid-day to stand in line at the backcountry office in Springdale to obtain our permit. We took advantage of this opportunity to restock our food and enjoy lunch in Springdale. Before being able to head into town, we would need to descend over 2500 feet from our camp on the edge of the rim to the canyon floor. As we started our decent, the dirt trail we had been following for the prior two days turned to stone and concrete, remnants of the conservation corps efforts to give access to the area around the canyon. Most of the trail had been blasted into the side of the cliffs, giving us a smooth and steep trail down the canyon. Angels Landing As we descended the canyon, our second detour appeared, Angels Landing. As Angels Landing grew larger, so did the crowds. Prior to Angels Landing, we had seen around 10 people on the trail in two days. Once we reached scout lookout, we dropped our packs for the mildly technical climb to the top of the landing. Chains had been installed years ago to make the passage along the sandstone fin safer, and in certain spots you could see the impressions of the chain link in the sandstone where use had slowly eroded the rock. Near the top, a beautiful view of the main canyon came into view, the reason why thousands of people from around the world climb up the canyon to stand there every year. After snapping a few photos at the top, Jon and I hurried down the fin knowing we still had a long day ahead of us. We then hiked down to the base of the canyon at the Grotto Trailhead, our lowest point during the trip at 4360 feet, and took the shuttle back to the visitor center to pick up our permits for the narrows. The weather was forecasted to stay clear, so the ranger was allowed to give us our permits. When weather conditions are not ideal, permits will not be given because of the flash flood potential in the canyon. After obtaining our permits and taking care of our food and water supplies, we took the shuttle back to the Weeping Rock Trailhead. Here we had to dig deep and hike the steepest section of our route up to the top of the east rim at midday in the heat. Near the crest of the trail, we came upon Stave Spring, which is nothing more than a pipe with a trickle of water coming out of it. The water from this source did not taste particularly good, so we were glad we filled up in Springdale. From this point, the remaining portion of the hike almost seems otherworldly. It’s all downhill, and you can see the end as you look down toward the Checkerboard Mesa and Jolly Gulch. As the sun set, the trail in front of us darkened. Finally, just after twilight, we found our trailhead sign that signaled we had finished the traverse. Because our permits allowed us to stay in the dispersed camping area of the east rim, we hiked back up the trail a short ways using our headlamps, and pitched our tent for the last night on the route. The Zion Narrows To travel to Zion without seeing the Narrows is like going to Yellowstone without seeing any geysers. The North Fork of the Virgin River cuts a deep rift into the landscape that eventually widens into the main canyon of Zion, creating a natural marvel. At its deepest point, the walls are nearly 2000 feet tall, and at some points it’s narrow enough to touch both walls with your arms and trekking poles extended. The plan was to complete what I called the Criss-Cross, linking our traverse to hiking the Narrows from the top down. Our second shuttle arrived on time to the East Entrance Trailhead, and shuttled us up the start of the Narrows at Chamberlain Ranch. We stopped at the Zion Ponderosa Ranch briefly to fill up on water since the narrows is downstream from livestock. We arrived at Chamberlain Ranch at almost 11am. As we started down the dusty road that forms the beginning of the trail, we knew the landscape was going to drastically change as the river dove deep into the earth. Eventually we came to a point in the trail where there was no way to go other than into the river and completely soak your feet, so we jumped in. After three days of desert hiking, the cool stream on our sore feet was welcomed. Slowly the walls started to grow on either side of the creek, and we crossed the creek more times than we could count, staying in the creek when it was easier. After many twists and turns, the roar of a waterfall began to fill our ears and we found the only spot of the river that had to be bypassed. Luckily there is a narrow trail to the left of the river. A few more miles down the river, as the walls kept growing, deep creek converged with the Virgin River, doubling the water volume. Still we felt solid footed and refreshed in the cool canyon, and pressed on down the river. At this point, we began to see the park-designated campsites, giving us a good idea of where we were and how much further we had to go. With plenty of sunlight left in the day, and feeling much more renewed than I expected, we were on a mission to finish off the hike that evening. We stopped at Big Spring to filer water with fantastic tasting spring water and then began the lower section of the Narrows. There we met a few day hikers that were hiking from the bottom up, encouraging us that the bottom was easily within reach before dark. As we started down the lower section, we encountered the deepest and most constricted section of the river, with parts deep enough to require us to remove our backpacks and walk with them over our heads. Here the walls towered over us, and at some points curved inward to almost form a tunnel, with only a sliver of sky showing though above us. As we moved lower, a few more day hikers came into view as we passed the inlets of Imlay and Orderville Canyons. Finally a massive crowd appeared, signaling the end of the riverside walk starting at the Temple of Sinawava Trailhead. As we walked the last mile of our trip on the concrete path, getting odd looks from others with our full size backpacks and wet clothes, both of us felt overjoyed. After 4 days of hiking, we finally found ourselves at our final trail head, the Temple of Sinawava. We were soaked and tired, wishing we had another day of canyons and red rocks. We decided to finish off the night with dinner at the Zion Lodge, again getting odd looks from the upscale clientele at the restaurant there. The Bonus While having dinner, Jon and I decided to treat ourselves to a bonus trip. Jon had never seen the Grand Canyon, and I had missed my chance to see the north rim of the Grand Canyon the last time I was in the area, so we decided to drive to the north rim to catch the sunrise the next morning. As the sun started to come up, a small crowd gathered at the lookout, mostly local photographers that said that the weather and cloud level was ideal for creating a very colorful sunrise. As the sun came up, the whole landscape began to glow orange, treating us to a beautiful sunrise over the canyon. After spending some more time touring the different overlooks on the mostly deserted north rim, we started back on the road, with a 12 hour drive to get back to Denver, and an early morning flight back to Chicago for Jon in the morning. This trip was certainly a life-lister, and had more solitude than the crowds of the main canyon. Need to Know Information Zion National Park, Zion Canyon Visitor Center - (435) 772-0170. Kolob Canyons Visitor Center - (435) 586-9548. Getting There Springdale is the main town just outside of Zion. The closest major airport is Las Vegas, NV which is 2 ½ hours away. There are also smaller airports in Cedar City, UT and St. George, UT. Maps National Geographic Trails Illustrated #214. Guidebooks Zion: Canyoneering by Tom Jones (trail and Narrows information). Hiking Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks, a Falcon Guide. All images in this article © Ted Ehrlich. Editor's Note: This article by Ted "tmountainnut" Ehrlich originally appeared in Issue 7 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

Stay fueled. Here are some versatile items that we like to always have in our food bag to add extra calories, flavors, and variety to backcountry meals. The possibilities are endless, but by carrying these ingredients you can take any off-the-shelf backpacking meal to the next level or add calories and taste to your own creations. Dehydrated or Freeze-Dried Vegetables A great way to add flavor and variety to your meals, as well as have a few servings of veggies during the day or with dinner. So many options...carrots, spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, you get the idea! Harmony House is one company that offers a wide array of dehydrated and freeze-dried vegetables that are great to have in the backpacking pantry. When it comes to dehydrated vegetables, you can take a wide variety of individual options, go for a mix, or dehydrate your own. Olive Oil Packets An easy way to add calories to any meal. Using olive oil packets is a lightweight & clean way to carry oil into the backcountry to avoid leaking or spilling (unless they are crushed and burst). Not a bad idea to pack these in a backup Ziploc or two as well. Instant Mashed Potatoes So many variations can be made with instant potatoes...for breakfast (add eggs, ham, etc.) or dinner (cheese, meat, veggies, etc). You may want to bring powdered milk and / or powdered butter for creamy potatoes. Peanut Butter Yes, it’s a little heavy, but it is packed with calories. You can pair this with small jelly containers from your favorite breakfast joint and serve on bread or tortillas or squeeze bottles for longer trips. Eat on its own or add to Asian-style dinners. Chicken Packets (or Tuna) Protein – add to a rice or pasta dish for dinner; add mayo packets & seasonings for chicken salad to serve on bread, bagels, or tortillas. But if you're looking to go for the best backpacking option in this regard, freeze-dried chicken is a pricier alternative but lighter in weight and typically tastes better as well. Potato Chips Maybe not the healthiest choice, but this snack food can add flavor, calories and a crunch to many dishes. We sometimes use crushed cheddar & sour cream chips to add extra flavor to freeze-dried meals – It’s like dehydrated potatoes and flavoring all in one. Chips are lightweight, have plenty of calories, and can add both crunch as well as flavor to meals. Tortillas You can make a wrap out of nearly anything. Add extra calories to breakfast scrambles or freeze-dried meals. For lunches or snacks, you can use this to hold chicken salad or peanut butter & jelly (see above). Cheese Wax-sealed cheese rounds keep well on the trail and are great by themselves or added to lunches. Where they really shine is when melted into dinners or breakfast - melted cheese just makes everything better. Chocolate Maybe not the most versatile ingredient, but as a dessert a simple chocolate bar may be the best way to end the day on a good note. Dark chocolate bars keep well, are easy, and if it’s calories you’re looking for, no worries here. Editor's Note: This installment of Backcountry Cuisine originally appeared in Issue 9 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

I thru-hiked the Pacific Crest Trail a while ago, so I was interested to view the film adaptation of the Cheryl Strayed book Wild to see how a long-distance hike was handled as a Hollywood movie. But Wild, the movie isn’t a hiking film; it’s more about a woman’s relationship with herself rather than her relationship with nature. Directed by Jean-Marc Vallèe, Wild follows Cheryl Strayed (played by Reese Witherspoon) on a 1,100 mile cathartic walk along the Pacific Crest Trail. Wild Movie After the death of her mother, a divorce, and a downward spiral, on a whim Strayed embarks on a hike of the PCT. Vallèe depicts the experience of a long distance hiker well in the film: from the small night noises, to the blisters, trail angels, memories, songs, and those millions of reasons to quit. The film splits from the trail at times to show flashbacks of Strayed’s former life, and it’s from those memories we learn why she has taken on this journey. Most of the flashbacks are recollections of her mother (superbly played by Laura Dern) who had a positive outlook on life – and it’s the memories and spirit of her mother’s optimism that finally helps pull Strayed out of her own abyss. Director Vallèe has a theme of unlikely heroes in many of his films. In the Dallas Buyer’s Club, it’s Matthew McConaughey as a cowboy dying of AIDS, but finding a way for thousands to survive with the disease. In Young Queen Victoria, the unlikely heroine is the queen standing on her own against the entrenched powers of England and reigning longer than any monarch in British history. The film C.R.A.Z.Y stars the unlikely hero of a young man struggling in 1970s Montreal. So the director is in familiar territory with “Wild” and the challenges of a young woman with a dark past struggling against nature to reclaim herself. Witherspoon is at her best in the film, losing the gloss we associate with her from earlier movies and opting for a more stripped-down acting role. During a long-distance hike there are reasons all day every day to quit, and fewer reasons to keep going. This in particular is demonstrated well. From the opening scene of pulling off a toenail to the body welts created by her massive pack, she’s in new territory with her acting. As she meets men along the trail, there sometimes come fears both genuine and imagined. This is a transformative role from a dark self to a better self along the trail, and as a long distance hiker I believed Witherspoon’s performance as a Pacific Crest Trail backpacker. Wild was mostly filmed in my home state of Oregon, so I was happy to see so many familiar sites of the region. Cinematographer Yves Bèlanger helps bring the vastness of the trail’s landscape and the scenery of Oregon alive. I also know two of the hikers portrayed in the film, so that was of particular interest to me. The screenplay by Nick Hornby flowed much better than the book, as did the film. A couple of notable cameos in the movie: author Cheryl Strayed makes a brief appearance as a “trail angel” in an early scene, and rocker Art Alexakis (of Everclear fame) has an amusing part as a tattoo artist. Concluding Thoughts Whether you’re a hiker or not, Wild is entertaining and well-acted throughout. Backpacking films are few and far between, and they’re usually about growth and revelation along the trail and not about backpacking – The Way starring Martin Sheen comes to mind. Wild covers similar terrain, and does so in spectacular fashion. You can watch Wild here at Amazon.com and you can find the book here. Editor's Note: This film review originally appeared in Issue 20 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

New Mexico is called the “Land of Enchantment” for several reasons. The natural beauty is as striking as anything found in Rockies or the Southwest. The history is deep. And an intoxicating blend of different cultures greets any traveler through this land. Another enchanting aspect of New Mexico? The food. And what delicious food there is to be had for any hungry outdoors person post-trip. Hatch chiles are delectable. Mole sauces delight the palate. And fresh sopapillas warm from the oven with fresh and local honey is a memorable accompaniment to any meal. After a recent trip to New Mexico, I was again immersed in the flavors of this area. Out of this trip, this take on a traditional savory chocolate recipe was inspired. Instant chocolate pudding or mousse combined with cinnamon, chili powder, milk, and butter create a simple, but pleasing, dessert that has a taste of the southwest. Prepare at home, finish at camp. And enjoy watching the blazing colors of a Southwest sunset. Ingredients 3 oz package of instant chocolate pudding or mousse ¼ cup Nido milk powder ½ tablespoon powdered butter for a creamier taste. ¼ tsp cinnamon ¼ or ½ tsp red chili powder. Add more chili powder for more heat. I like to use Ancho chili powder as it has a more subtle and nuanced flavor that pairs well with sweeter dishes. At Home Mix all ingredients thoroughly in a resealable food storage bag At Meal Time Add one cup of water to the bag and stir well. Let mixture sit for about ten minutes until it sets You can place the bag in a pot of cold water to quicken the process This recipe will serve two backpackers. Or one hungry traveler who has explored the backcountry of New Mexico. And deserves a big dessert to go with the big scenery. Editor's Note: This recipe by contributor Paul Magnanti originally appeared in Issue 34 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

If you’re an avid backpacker, and you have ever thought about doing a trip in South America, you’ve doubtlessly heard of Torres del Paine National Park in Chile. And even if you haven’t, you would recognize some of the sights from magazines, books, and television. Within the park, there are many backpacking options but most travelers do either the “W” circuit which visits a number of the main sights on the southern portion of the main geologic feature of the park, the Cordillera Paine, while the extended “O” circuit does an extra section which loops around the northern side of the Cordillera del Paine. The “W” hike usually takes 3-5 days and the “O” can take anywhere from 6-10 days depending on speed and side trips. The full excursion, which I’ll describe here, includes the full “O” along with side trips into the Vallé del Frances (French Valley) and another to Mirador Torres (Tower View). There are many variations on these loops, and people start from a number of different spots, so keep in mind I’m just describing my specific trip. Torres del Paine National Park Torres del Paine National Park lies around 51 degrees south latitude, very far south toward the southern tip of Chile in the region known as Patagonia. The main massif is composed of huge granite spires rising up to 2,800 meters above the glacial lakes, some of which are topped by the dark remnants of the long-ago eroded sedimentary rock. Some of the large glaciers connect to the huge Southern Patagonian Ice Field, which coats much of the southern Andes. If you’re looking for solitude, this isn’t the hike for you. But for backpackers who enjoy fairly easy walking among jaw-dropping scenery, and the most backpacker friendly logistics for a trip on the other side of the world, then do not miss this hike. Embrace the cultural melting pot that is created by drawing lovers of the outdoors from all corners of the globe. Expect all sorts of weather from cold rain to howling wind to hot still afternoons. The busiest months are January and February, but hiking is usually good from late November through mid-April. Although I didn’t see much large wildlife while on the trek, I saw guanacos (a type of llama) and the ñandú (Lesser Rhea, a large flightless bird) as well as a condor. This is to say, if you’ve made the journey to hike in the park, make sure to take a few days if you can to visit other parts of it. There are many other beautiful aspects and abundant wildlife. Before describing my 2013 hike, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the devastating effect fire has had on the park. The constant winds and often dry grasses and trees combined with careless backpackers has led to some massive fires, including one that burned 150 square kilometers in 1985, one that burned 155 square kilometers in 2005, and in late 2011 and early 2012, a fire destroyed 176 square kilometers, much of which was old growth forest. There are no open fires allowed and all cooking should be highly controlled. And now on to the adventure! A Hike on the O Circuit Begins As I had already been in the park for a few days with my folks, I had a shuttle take me to the Hosteria Las Torres. You can leave a bag there, with the stuff that you’re not brining on the hike, for a nominal fee. Behind the hotel, high peaks with glaciers falling down their sides rose tantalizingly close. I followed a 4wd track to the northeast where to my right, rolling fields, lakes, and mountains rose gently toward Argentina while the hulking massif towered over my left shoulder. The path was easy and wandered through beautiful forests and open fields. When I came upon the burnt trunks of what must have been a beautiful stand of trees, and I felt the strong wind on my face, I understood first-hand the effects of fire here. One small flame can irrevocably change a landscape. This first day was just an easy nine kilometers and when I arrived at the Campamento (camp) Serón, I set up my tent at the edge of a field with about twenty other tents. This was a wild place? It seemed more like an international hiker’s convention. Even though I was on the supposed “quiet” side of the loop, as many fewer people do the “O” than the “W”, clearly “quiet” was relative. If it wasn’t already, it became readily apparent that this hike was going to be visually stunning, though without real solitude. I knew that going in, however, and all the people were very nice. I ended up chatting with hikers from Switzerland, Israel, Germany, Argentina, Chile, France, and probably a few others I can’t remember. Luckily for me, English was the common language. I quickly fell asleep in my one-man tent, and awoke to another beautiful sunny day. I had briefly chatted with a young American hiker named Justin the previous night, and we created an informal partnership for the next few days. We hiked along the glacial sediment filled Rio Paine as the wind started to pick up a bit. Eventually a solid twenty-minute climb took us up and over Windy Pass, and let me tell you, that feature deserves its name! In about the space of twenty meters, a gentle breeze turned into a steady wind of 70-80k with gusts of 100k! I could literally lean into the wind, with my backpack on and not fall over. I was glad I had poles and still had to watch my footing as we traversed along a contour and gradually descended using an amazingly gentle trail as the steep slope dropped below our feet on the right and the wind continually tried to relinquish our stability to the force of gravity. At the bottom of the slope, Lago (lake) Paine rippled with miniature tornados while not-so-distant peaks displaying a prominent hard-edged treeline started to become obscured in menacingly grey clouds. The clouds lowered, and so did the rain, so we just put our heads down and busted out the kilometers until we arrived at the Refugio Dickson. Sitting in an open field just a few hundred meters from the edge of Lago Dickson, the building was packed with people all trying to dry out their gear around an overburdened woodstove. The rain eventually stopped and for about thirty seconds I was relieved, so I started to set up my tent. And then the little monsters hit. Within moments I was swarmed by thirsty hordes of mosquitos, clearly desperate for some North American blood. I tried to bite back, but they were too quick so I got in my tent, killed the remaining dozen or so that managed to squeeze in during the brief moment I had entered, and was glad I had brought some audiobooks as I lay down much earlier than normal. Apparently the 19 kilometers was enough to send me into a dream state quickly, and I woke up the next day refreshed and ready to go, albeit with slightly less blood. The third day was another short one. Very short actually, just 9 kilometers, but involved a beautiful walk through the woods with early views back to Lago Dickson and the Glaciar Dickson. Compared to the open terrain in which I had been walking, here the forest was lush, with moss-covered trees, alien mushrooms, and a forest radiant with dappled golden light. The route went along and then over the raging Rio de los Perros with a large waterfall visible from the trail. Around a kilometer from the Campamento Los Perros the trail popped out into open terrain as it skirted over large boulders on the terminal moraine that abutted the lake below the Glacier Los Perros. The wind was ferocious as I made it to the edge of the lake then quickly went down into the trees to the camp. As the conditions over the upcoming pass (Paso John Gardner) had been treacherous, hikers from the previous day had stayed over, and it was crowded. I wandered around camp and onto the moraines above as the sun set over the high ridge of mountains to the west and the braided rivers coming down off the nearby glaciers shone iridescent silver in the low angled light. The days were long and I ended up asleep even before the light completely vanished from the sky. Most people seem to consider the climb up Paso John Gardner as the most difficult section, and in inclement weather I could see how the alpine terrain in a whiteout could lead to scary situations. The approximate 650-meter climb was very straightforward for me however, and the effort was mitigated by the incredible views. Huge glaciers dropped off of Mts. Condor and Amistad as the recently snow-dusted peaks to the south and east went in and out of the clouds. Popping up over the pass, my jaw dropped. Ahead of me the Grey Glacier spread out like a wide river of ice. Even though this was just the tip of the much larger glaciers coming down from the huge Southern Patagonian Ice Field, it was still about six kilometers across. The ice bent in seemingly impossible directions which forced crevasses to ripple across the surface of the glacier. The large outlet lake was visible five or six kilometers to the south. This experience was one of the few times in my life that I had a hard time adjusting to scale. The boulders continued down the mountainside into an abrupt line of trees, which seemed to extend most of the way down to the glacier. I couldn’t tell what was one hundred meters, or one thousand away. The path slowly wound its way through the boulders, and although not difficult, it was all that I could do to pull my eyes from the incredible sight below and watch where I was going. The trail headed down into the forest as it traveled south along the glacier, eventually contouring along a path 100-200 meters above the edge. Not far from camp, an incredible viewpoint next to a river, which seemingly fell right into the glacier, provided an unobstructed view. Although I was antsy to get some more distance, I knew I would be heading into the crowded section, and wanted to enjoy a night knowing I’d wake up one more morning with views towards the glacier. So I set up my tent about ten meters from an overlook at the Campamento Paso. I had a nice conversation with a group of Chilean college students on break and enjoyed a large bowl of instant flavored rice before once again retreating to my tent to escape the mosquitos. I woke up to a misty morning. The pleasant mist rapidly turned into a deluge so I saw no point in hanging around and hit the trail. The route itself was fairly straightforward as it went in and out of the woods, hugging the walls of the glaciated valley it slowly lost elevation, but two major river crossings made for some grey-hair inducing moments. Huge metal ladders led down to the banks of these rivers, which was sending large amounts of water down through a tight rocky notch and eventually underneath the glacier. There was no way to avoid wet feet, with a rope helping during the crossing. After crossing a cool suspension bridge and another great view of the toe of the glacier, the trail came to Refugio Grey. This modern structure provided a nice café where I was able to get a lunch. One can reserve rooms there as well as tent outside. I took the opportunity to follow a short trail out to a small inlet in Lago Grey where ice chunks and some larger icebergs filled the still water with a plethora of unique shapes and sizes. I continued to follow the trail south, passing many more people out doing the “W” circuit as well as those who were doing day hikes based out of the refugios and the boats from the few hotels in the park. The trail climbed through a forest that had recently been destroyed by a large fire. Eventually it hit a ridge where once again the wind picked up but allowed for incredible views of Lago Grey as it passed by smaller glacial tarns. The trail led down to the Refugio Paine Grande, which was situated near the shores of Lago Pehoé. Originally planning to camp in the associated campground, I arrived to find the recently denuded landscape which had been devastated by the large fire a few years back. This created a situation where the wind was so fierce, many people were unable to set up their tents and a few even blew away as the poles snapped. I decided to get a room with meals and a shower and spent the evening in the bar watching the Super Bowl. I was glad to have a bed after hiking 21 kilometers through rough rivers and high winds. The next day ended up being my longest day, 26 kilometers. During the morning hours the trail wandered through open windswept terrain with incredible views toward Los Cuernos (the horns) and Cerro Espada (sword peak). Los Cuernos is a range of peaks that are easily identifiable since the bottom half is composed of brown rock with trees climbing part way up, then a distinct layer of very light rock with another sharply defined layer of dark rock at the summits. After about 7.5 kilometers, I crossed a bridge over the Rio Francés and arrived at the Campamento Italiano. This was mostly closed for camping as they were trying to restore some of the areas. I dropped my pack and grabbed a few things for a 13 kilometer out and back to the viewpoint in the Valle Francés. The trail leads into the heart of the Cordillera Paine as it climbs steadily along the Rio Francés and past the huge Glaciar Francés, which falls steeply off the eastern side of the Cerro Paine Grande all the way down to the valley where huge crevasses were evidence of the glacier’s movement. The 360-degree panorama in the Valle Francés is stunning as the sharp points of over a dozen named peaks jutted imposingly into the sky. I was hard-pressed not to just stay there for the whole afternoon, soaking in the rugged landscape, but I had more kilometers to make and the Campamento Britanico in the Valle Francés was closed to campers. I hurried back down the trail enjoying the views over the many large lakes to the south and was happy to find my backpack intact, which I’d like to think was partially due to my having put the nastiest pair of socks I own directly on top. The remaining 5.5 kilometers to the Campamento Los Cuernos involved a fairly easy walk above and then down to the shores of Lago Nordenskjold where a grey pebbled beach convinced me to relax by the lake as I watched swirling clouds pick up the late day sun. When I arrived at the refugio and campamento I was glad to have my tent, as the place was a madhouse. There were hundreds of people using every tent site and filling up the refugio. Luckily, I headed down to the shore and found a great spot set back from the lake. Prior campers had smoothed out the ground and had built a rock wall, which sheltered me from the wind. This was probably my favorite campsite of the trip and I was glad to be separated from the crowds just a few hundred meters away. On the seventh day of the trip, I followed the trail, which initially wound above and along Lago Nordenskjold. The large mountains rose up to my left as the less rugged, but also impressive series of cliffs, hills, and plateaus were visible on the far side of the lake. In this more traveled section of the route, nice bridges crossed some fairly significant rivers and eventually I came to a shortcut on the left that connected me to the trail that climbed up the Valle Ascencio. A Conclusion to the O Circuit I climbed steadily up a nice graded path as the Rio Ascencio rolled down the valley to my right. It started to rain and a few kilometers up the valley I crossed over the river and took a little break in the Refugio El Chileno. Folks were not happy, as they had just run out of water at the refugio. I filtered some water from the river, headed up the trail through a forest with large, then increasingly small and weathered trees to the Campamento Torres. I set up my tent in a small space between two trees after checking in with the ranger there. Just beyond the camp I was able to get a peek up toward the Torres and got excited for the next day. I went to bed early that night so that I’d be well rested for the next morning. Both because I wanted to catch the early morning light, and I needed to have my camp cleared by 10am (a rule), I, along with most of the other hikers got up at 4am. It was very cold and I put on all the clothing that I had as I slowly climbed the trail up the through the rocks to the lake below the Torres. As daylight began to infiltrate the scene I saw the three Torres Del Paine, with their distinctive peaks and shear vertical walls rising high above. These mountains are apparently major destinations for rock climbers but from my vantage point I had a hard time believing folks could get up them. When the sun finally peeked over the horizon to the east, the towers radiated a hue which shifted quickly from red to pink to golden orange as the shadows from nearby peaks crept lower and lower down the faces. It was windy and still very cold, but the sight made the suffering worthwhile as we all just stood there marveling in the beauty. I truly understood why the park was named after these Torres and I was glad to have saved this part of the trip until the last day. Eventually the light shifted to regular daylight, and I went back down to the camp, packed up, and took the trail all the way back to the Hosteria Las Torres where I picked up my bag. I walked another kilometer over to the refugio and Campamento Las Torres where I took a much-needed shower, shared conversation with a few folks I had met along the way, and got on a bus to El Califate. My Daily Distance Day 1 – 9 kilomters Day 2 – 19 kilometers Day 3 – 9 kilometers Day 4 – 12 kilometers Day 5 – 21 kilometers Day 6 – 26 kilometers Day 7 – 17 kilometers Day 8 – 15 kilometers Need to Know Information & Getting There Although this is Chile, many people speak English. There are a few hotels in the park including the incredibly luxurious Explora Hotel. Some people come from Argentina and some come from Chile, but you’ll still most likely need to fly into Santiago or Buenes Aires before taking another mode of transportation down there. One common place to go is to the outdoor adventuring center of the region, El Calafate in Argentina. From there you can go to many attractions such as visiting the incredible Perito Moreno Glacier. Check the web for current travel prices and other ideas for traveling in the area. Exchange rates are always changing, especially in Argentina, so be aware that the value of your dollar could go up or down when planning the trip. Best Time to Go I was there in late January and early February and that is right in the middle of the high season. You could probably see fewer people if you went at the hiking season’s edge, in late November or early April, as December through March is the busiest period. Maps There’s a simple map provided by the CONAF which is the governmental organization that manages the national parks. I used the tear and water resistant Torres del Paine Trekking Map by Zagier & Urruty Publications. Books There are a number of books including Lonely Planet guides but I’m a big fan of Cicerone Guides. The book Torres del Paine – Trekking in Chile’s Premier National Parks by Rudolf Abraham, has nice photos, ample information, and it has a nice light water resistant cover and pages and fits in a jacket pocket. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Eli Burakian originally appeared in Issue 23 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

In the world of sports nutrition, the word “electrolyte” refers to minerals dissolved in the body’s fluids that are lost in perspiration. Those little packets of sweetened electrolyte powder or brand name drinks allegedly offer all you need to replenish lost electrolytes during endurance exercise. But real food is often the best nourishment and includes both what you know you need and what you don’t know you need. For electrolyte replenishment on the trail, it is so easy to create a trail mix that holds all those minerals lost through sweat: sodium chloride, calcium, potassium, phosphorous, and magnesium…and then some! Every person is metabolically different and each endurance event has different demands. If I stop, rest, drink, and eat, at regular intervals it goes a long way during my hiking day. Your snacks can make the difference between your hike being a fun, safe journey and a nightmarish slog. Start out with a trail mix that is loaded with electrolyte-rich ingredients. Mix up a combination of the following nuts, seeds, veggies, and salt to your personal taste. Munch a handful or two with a good drink of water every hour for the steadiest electrolyte replenishment. Sodium Chloride Seaweed Sea Salt Magnesium Sesame seeds Pumpkin seeds Dark chocolate Dried edamame Potassium Banana chips Citrus Sweet Potato chips Kale chips Shredded coconut Calcium Almonds Apricots Brazil nuts Figs Dates Oranges Phosphorous Sunflower seeds Peanuts Raisins Figs Strawberries Cinny Green’s book Backpackers’ Ultra Food offers more tips, techniques, and recipes to elevate eating on the trail. You can find the book here at Amazon.com. Editor's Note: This installment of Backcountry Cuisine originally appeared in Issue 11 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here.

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, 14.6 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 (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 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, 40 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 ($569, 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 86x96” floorplan can fit 4 people with up to 3 of those 4 people even using wide sleeping pads, and this tent also has an impressive 50” inside height. This will get everyone in the same tent, although you’ll be well over 5lbs. And if the HV 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 look 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 ($450, 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 ($500, 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 ($489, 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.

Algonquin Peak, the second highest peak in New York, lies within the confines of the Adirondacks. She’s the crown jewel of the MacIntyre Range standing at 5,114 feet, dwarfing all but one peak around her. My husband Nick and I had the privilege of hiking Mount Marcy (the highest peak in NY) and Algonquin a few years ago. Mount Marcy left me with tendinitis in my knees while Algonquin was more forgiving. We have be pining to get back ever since. On a recent weekend, Nick and I found ourselves with nothing on our agendas and decided to venture north. On this particular weekend, we’d bring his sister Laura along for her first out of state hiking trip. We knew Algonquin wouldn’t disappoint. The night we arrived in Lake Placid, worn from the six hour drive, we were met by a Canadian rugby team who were sharing our accommodations. We joined them by the fire while they sung their rugby songs, many of which would make a sailor blush. We went to bed at what we deemed a reasonable hour (we surely had an early morning) but were occasionally rustled out of our sleep by roars of laughter coming from the campfire. Somehow, with interrupted sleep and restless minds, we made it to the trail head the next morning bright and early. The trail begins at the Adirondack Loj, a starting point for many hikes in the High Peaks Region. Turning onto the Adirondack Loj Road from Route 73, the mountains tower over a field, beckoning you to climb them. Viewing them from this standpoint conjures up the excitement, resolve, and energy to complete the hike you’ve chosen. The mountains of the Northeast feel inviting – the forest is lush and rife with natural features. Even the forest floor, devoid of any apparent sunlight, is teeming with life. An Algonquin Peak Hike Begins We signed in at the trail register and began our hike on the Van Hoevenburg Trail. It begins unassumingly enough as a gentle walk through the woods on a fairly wide trail. We meandered through a forest of hemlocks and over bridges that allowed us to traverse marshes. Despite the rain the entire week prior, the trail wasn’t terribly muddy and for that we were thankful. This portion of the hike makes you feel as though it’ll be an easy one. Don’t be fooled – it gets much more challenging. The hike is only an eight mile out and back, but you’ll climb roughly 3,000 feet in elevation with the bulk of it in 3 miles of trail. Once we reached the junction for the Marcy Dam, we continued on the MacIntyre Range Trail, making our steady ascent to Algonquin. For about another mile, the boulders get increasingly larger, taxing your quads and making you wish you did more squats before attempting it. We were having a wonderful time being out but not making good time by any means. I’ve learned over the years my hiking style – slow and steady – is much kinder to my knees and better for my endurance. This was perfect, however, because Laura was marveling at everything around her, often stopping to take photographs. This is one of the most popular hikes in the area so we passed plenty of people on the trail. We made sure to stop and talk to everyone as we always do. More often than not, when reminiscing, you think of the people you’ve met on the trail rather than the hike itself. Hikers 30 years my senior were rushing past me, making me feel like a snail. I resolved to keep my current pace, knowing I would feel better in the morning than my fellow hikers. After roughly a mile of stone steps, we reached an impressive waterfall. At this point, the trail begins turning into rock slides. Nick and Laura were walking upright on them, putting me to shame. Though I knew better, I felt like I had to get on my hands and knees to traverse them. Nick often times jokes that I have more caveman in me than most people and this scrambling style I had was a true testament to my lack of evolutionary progress. Nick had it wrong all along – maybe I wasn’t meant to be bipedal at all. The rock slides were very wet (as they often are) but our grip did not suffer. We were steadily climbing, often stopping due to racing hearts and burning legs. At this point in the hike it is advantageous to stop and take a minute to look around. Unbeknownst to you, the mountain ranges around you are unfolding behind your back. We came to the junction for Wright Peak, another 46er. Nick had practically begged to go, but I didn’t think I would make it. It was another steep half mile to its summit, and we still had roughly a mile left to reach Algonquin. A mile under normal circumstances would be a breeze, but a mile over rock slides and boulders feels like an eternity. We climbed into the alpine zone and above tree line. The wind was howling but we had clear skies. I was starting to feel pretty woozy – we hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast and I running on fumes. We stopped and ate on the flanks of the summit, fueling up before our final ascent. The food certainly helped, but I always seem to get a second wind when I can finally see what I’ve been working towards. We hoofed it the rest of the way, following the cairns and yellow paint along the rocks, scrambling our way to the top. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be on Everest, because here, at a mere 5,000 feet above sea level, you feel as though you are on top of the world. No matter where you rest your eyes there are mountains and lakes. You can see your starting point and marvel at the distance (and elevation!) you’ve traveled. You can see the ski jumps at the Olympic Complex in Lake Placid and Lake Placid itself. It always amazes me to view small cities and towns (and even larger ones) from this perspective. Everything seems to be in perfect order and harmony. It reminds me why I trek through the woods – it brings order to my life and makes modern day troubles seem infantile. It allows me to make sense of it all. Although we saw many people on the trail, we were pleasantly surprised to see the summit relatively empty. It is nearly the size of a football field so even in times of popularity there is always room to be alone. We ducked down behind some rocks to take it all in. After a small snack, we made our way around the ring of the summit. Luckily, the sun warmed us up and the wind wasn’t oppressive enough for us to make a hasty descent. We stopped and spoke with the summit steward who was assigned to Algonquin that day. He told us about the destruction done to the alpine zone in the 1970's and the subsequent attempts to re-vegetate the summit. He pointed out the peaks around us, the most interesting of which was Mount Colden. There are several areas of slides on its slopes, wherein the bare rock is exposed amongst a forest around it. We noticed a couple of them were bright white unlike the numerous grey ones. He said they were a result of Hurricanes Irene and Sandy. It was a staggering reminder that Mother Nature calls the shots. We were anxious to begin our descent but sorry that we had to leave. Reluctantly, we began climbing down, knowing it would take much longer to descend. Having to go back down 3,000 feet is a cruel joke. I wrapped my knee and took out my hiking poles in preparation for the horror about to be unleashed on my lower extremities. The conversation started to die out as everyone began concentrating on their footing, allowing us to personally reflect on our day. We finally made our way back to the beginning of the trailhead, happily checking off the trail register indicating we had returned unscathed. We reached the car incredibly pleased with ourselves and ready for the ultimate post hiking food – pizza. Need to Know Information $10 parking per day, $5 if an AMC member. Get there early in the summer months – the lot fills up quickly. Camping is available at the Adirondack Loj for a fee. Free wilderness camping is permitted on state land. No fires. Bear canisters are required. No camping over 4,000 feet. You can make this hike into a multi day peak bagging trip. Best Time to Go Late Summer and Fall, you may want to avoid Black Fly Season (changes yearly, but falls somewhere between June-July). Getting There Take the NY State Thruway to Route 73, Keene Valley. Turn left on Adirondack Loj Road, which ends at the parking attendant booth and trailhead. Maps National Geographic Trails Illustrated Lake Placid / High Peaks Map or (included with) the Adirondacks Map Pack. Books High Peaks Trails by Tony Goodwin as well as 50 Hikes in the Adirondack Mountains (for other hikes in the region). Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sarah Tiedemann originally appeared in Issue 12 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

For a long time, just thinking about climbing Mount Washington gave me chills and made me nauseous. A few years ago, Nick and I were in the White Mountains of New Hampshire for the first time. Reaching the top of Mount Washington (whether by car, foot, or railway) is a must do. It is the highest peak in New Hampshire and the highest in the Northeast. It is known as the “Home of the World’s Worst Weather” due to the convergence of three different weather systems at its peak. Clear summits are few and far between. For some time it held the record for the highest recorded wind speed at 231 miles per hour. As anticipated, we drove up and were met with near zero visibility and a thunderstorm. We made it to the top and attempted to wait out the rain to visit the museum and weather station. With the unrelenting weather and thunderstorm, we drove down, hail pelting (and denting!) our car (in July!). I resolved that I would never go up there again and definitely not on foot. In fact, the entire Presidential Range was now out of the question. Nick’s cousin Norman was in from California so we traveled up to New Hampshire to see him and his parents. While planning the very short weekend, we threw around the idea of hiking the entire Presidential Traverse, Mount Jefferson, or Mount Monroe and Mount Washington. Choosing a destination or choosing between trails is an arduous task – it’s a huge list of pros and cons. The Presidential Traverse was entirely too long for a day hike (22 miles and 9,000 feet gain); Mount Jefferson required more climbing than I was comfortable with. To my dismay, the trail we were researching to Mount Monroe (and then continuing on to Mount Washington) seemed to be the easiest of any option. A Mount Monroe Hike Begins We did not get an early start to the day as I had hoped we would. After checking the weather and packing our gear, we reached the trailhead at 1:00 in the afternoon, and I told Nick that it was highly unlikely we’d make it to Washington. We definitely had time to hit Mount Monroe, the fourth highest peak in New Hampshire. Nick’s really into superlatives, so this helped my cause. I was not prepared for a night hike down the most formidable mountain in the Northeast. We had an unseasonably perfect day with no storms on the horizon. The Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail runs 3.1 miles and 2,500 feet up to the Lakes of the Clouds hut (run by the AMC) which provides shelter and meals to hikers in the summer months. From there, it is another .04 miles and only 350 feet to Mount Monroe and back, and another 1.5 miles and 1,300 feet to Mount Washington. We had our work cut out for us. The trail quickly drops you into the lush forest of the Northeast. You’d never believe me, but the woods here remind me of a rainforest. Rocks and trees are blanketed with moss and mushrooms. We passed a placard in memory of Herbert Judson Young, an eighteen year old who died from hypothermia in the area in 1928. It was nearly impossible to think that such a gorgeous area in the summer could be that unforgiving in the winter. After about a mile, we came to a T intersection with the Ammonoosuc River and stayed right. The trail hugs the river for the majority of the trek up and it is an incredible treat – the water kept us cool and comfortable. The path is covered with stray rocks and root systems and we had to look down to watch our footing. Just being out in the woods is incredible, but this route is so packed with natural features, it is very difficult to make good time. We often stopped to investigate the micro environments around us. The raging river drowned out the conversation as we walked. As we turned a corner, we found a gushing waterfall with the most inviting waters I’ve ever seen. We wanted to stop and swim so badly but knew if we did we’d be hiking back in the dark. Reluctantly, we passed the waterfall where we were met with a series of steep rocks. At that point, we were about 1.5 miles in and barely gained any elevation, so I knew the rest of the way was going to be brutal. We all took a deep breath and got to work. I was embarrassed by how many times I had to stop to catch my breath (both because of the cardio and the height factor). Every time we stopped, I peeked behind my shoulder. The mountains we saw from the parking lot were beginning to be at eye level. Luckily, the trail began to get more technical, so I didn’t have time to worry much about the heights. The higher peaks of the Northeast all seem to follow the same format: a lovely jaunt through the woods, followed by rockier sections, followed by rock slides. I found the slides had texture so I felt secure in my footing. There were plenty of places to rest my hands and feet as we climbed. The rock slides were skirting small streams that dumped into various waterfalls, following the mountain to the bottom. At one point, my aching legs and fear of heights combined to create a moment of weakness. I sat down and refused to get back up. The White Mountains were laid out before my eyes, but all I could do was attempt to hold down my breakfast. After taking a breather and reminding myself that people would be envious of my current position, I stood back up and continued on my way. On most hikes in the Northeast, the alpine zone is not a considerable part of the trail. On this trip, however, we seemed to be in the alpine zone for a long time. We had passed many hikers who all said we were nearing the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. I know many hikers say that to keep you going, but I never, ever believe them. Finally, one woman was right. After passing her, I saw a glimpse of a building. I was overjoyed – we were almost there. We stopped at the hut to eat our lunches. There was such an energy there – hikers of all ages were buzzing around – either getting ready for a short hike, checking in, or eating lunch. The hut gets its name from the lakes beside them and they were a nice addition to the view. The hut itself has an interesting history – after a couple of climbers perished in the extreme weather in the area in June of 1900, a shelter was built for emergencies only. Hikers, however, found this to be a welcoming spot and used the shelter for pleasure trips. In 1915, the AMC decided to build a new shelter exclusively for thru hikers. Employees hike up with food and provisions for guests on their backs. Once appetites were satiated, we left the hut for our approach to Mount Monroe. We were incredibly close but I almost didn’t summit. I had a bit of an internal struggle – I had to dig deep to keep going. We made it to the summit at 5:00 PM, and after seeing the view from Mount Monroe’s vantage point, I was glad I kept at it. Mount Washington was to our left – its summit clear as glass. You could make out the trail to the top, where the weather station is located. Mount Washington is a little over 1,000 feet above Mount Monroe, but its approach and summit is all rocks. This was a stark contrast from the rest of the view – lush green mountains with trails running across them like arteries. The ridge line was so inviting. Had we had more time, I would have loved to keep going. Once we took our obligatory summit pictures, we headed down. We knew it was too late for Mount Washington, and although that stung a little bit, Mount Monroe gave us the views we wanted at 5,372 feet above sea level. We slowly and carefully made our way down, chattering away from the excitement of the hike. We passed by the waterfall and the opportunity to swim. It was getting late and chilly and the waters didn’t seem nearly as inviting at this time of day. On our final mile, it started getting dark. We made it to the car at 8:00, just as the sun slipped below the horizon. After a round of high fives, we piled into the car for the drive back to Nashua. While I have the upmost respect for Mount Washington, it no longer petrifies me. To Nick’s delight, I proclaimed I’d be back. Need to Know Information Parking is $5. Lodging is available at the Lakes of the Clouds hut, though early reservations are imperative. Camping is allowed along the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail. No camping above treeline and general back country camping regulations apply. Best Time to Go Challenging weather is possible at anytime of the year, and particularly during the winter months. Getting There From the New Hampshire Turnpike, take exit 25 for Route 3 North. Turn right on Route 302. Turn Left on Base Station Road. The parking lot will be on your right in about 5 miles. Maps National Geographic Trails Illustrated 741 as well as the AMC White Mountains Presidential Range Map. Books Mount Washington and the Presidential Range Trail Guide (AMC) by Gene Daniell & Steven D. Smith; Not Without Peril: 150 Years of Misadventure on the Presidential Range of New Hampshire by Nicholas Howe. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sarah Tiedemann originally appeared in Issue 11 of TrailGroove Magazine. For additional photos and more you can read the original article in HD in the Premium Issue 11 PDF (included with an active Premium Subscription).

Canada's Rocky Mountain Parks are a great location for hiking, and attract millions of visitors every year. At 10,878 km² (4,200 sq. mi.) Jasper is one of the largest, but Banff, Yoho and Kootenay National Parks are also part of the network as is Mt. Robson Provincial Park in British Columbia and Waterton in Southern Alberta. Much of the traffic tends to go to the commercial hub of Banff, leaving the rest for hikers and others who enjoy the wilderness. But my philosophy has always been that I want to take people places they never thought they'd go, to see things they never expected to see, and to do things they never thought they could do. With that goal in mind, I've been hiking with friends in Canada's national parks for many years. From beginners to experienced hikers, there are rewarding dayhikes everywhere, and I've selected a few that first-time visitors might enjoy. Sulphur Skyline Trail One I especially like for new visitors to the Parks is the Sulphur Skyline Trail. Leaving from the parking lot at Miette Hot Springs, a moderate climb up only 4 km (2.5 miles) of trails gets first-timers to the very top of a real mountain, with great views of the surrounding peaks and the scenic valleys below. The first section of the trail is about a kilometer long, and rises steadily up a smooth path beside a stream, before turning left and starting a long ascent across the side of a mountain. You reach a junction where the now-closed Mystery Lake Trail joins, and just a few steps later, the real work begins. The total elevation gain to the top is 750 meters (2,460 ft.), equal to many of the more difficult trails in the Park, but a series of 17 switchbacks over the last few kilometers eases the pain. Setting the pacing to include brief stops at every one ensures that everybody in the group makes it all the way up, and the same principle can be used for slower hiking partners. After all, the key to a mountain hike is that anyone can get to the top, as long as you're willing to take your time! When you've finished all those switchbacks, you'll pop out of the treeline at an alpine meadow. In front of you is a large white boulder, an 'erratic' left behind by the glaciers. It's a nice place for a break and for photos, and less ambitious hikers may want to wait there while their companions continue to the summit. The last section is a short but challenging ascent up a scree slope. It is steep, with quite a view from the top. From the summit, you will have views of the mountains and valleys all around. You will be looking back at the Miette Hot Springs down the valley far below, and the Fiddle River Valley on the opposite side of the mountain. It takes a bit of determination, but with only a few hours of hiking, visitors can count a new and spectacular achievement among their accomplishments. I typically take about 2-3 hours going up and about 1 ½ hours coming back down again. A soak in the hot springs before heading back to town can be nice. Valley of the Five Lakes Another nice walk is the Valley of the Five Lakes. Just a few kilometers south of town, the trail offers gentle grades, nice scenery, and a forest experience. The eventual destination, as the name says, is a string of five interconnected lakes paralleling the Athabasca River. In summer, they are different shades of sapphire-blue, and coupled with the mountain backgrounds of the Athabasca Valley, the opportunities for beautiful photos are endless. The main trail begins in the forest, crossing a series of low, lateral moraines, then after less than a kilometer, arrives at a lovely little valley. With open meadows and views of the surrounding mountains, it's a nice place to pause for a break. Crossing a wooden footbridge, you reach a junction where you can choose either to continue ahead, or select other trails leading to more difficult routes. Left takes you back to the Jasper townsite, or the option of an alternate 10 km route encircling the five lakes, while a right turn takes you 9 km farther up the valley to Wabasso Lake. Most hikers will go straight ahead, climbing the opposite side of the valley. Look for ancient Douglas firs and spruce trees on the warm, west-facing slopes, and aspen groves at the top. Once back into the forest, you soon reach a trail marker offering a left or right fork. The trail is a loop, so either one works, but my preference is to stay left. More moraines make a bit of a challenge. You'll find low hills and a few slippery spots, some steeper sections, and tantalizing views through the treetops of the mountains above. Very soon, you realize there's a lake to the left – a bit of a push through the bushes provides a great view of the first lake and the mountains behind it, and just a few meters farther down the trail shows you the fourth lake on your right. The trail traverses the eastern slopes above the second and third lakes, and the fourth, then you arrive at the fifth. Each lake is a slightly different colour, but all are some shade of the turquoise blue that Rocky Mountain lakes are famous for. The last lake is larger than the others, and you will see a couple of old rowboats chained to the trees for fishermen to rent, and some nice views of the lake. Stop and take a rest before following the trail back around. You will still have a few hills to climb, but there is nothing too challenging. The Valley of the Five Lakes offers a rewarding walk without too much fuss. Total distance is about 4.5 km and the elevation gain is nominal. Bald Hills Trail A personal favourite is the Bald Hills Trail. It's not the easiest, since there can be some route-finding involved. Starting at Maligne Lake (a popular destination because of its scenery) the trail begins with an elevation gain of 450 meters (1,475 feet) up an abandoned fire road. At first, it's not a particularly spectacular route, but just a few kilometers of walking up a moderate grade leads to an old fire lookout just above treeline, with nice views of the lake and the whole Maligne Valley far below. Rising above is a steep bluff, and a track across its slopes leads to the real destination out of sight behind an outcrop. Just a short walk across the edge of the treeline brings you to a rocky alpine meadow. Three different peaks are now within easy reach, and the route to the farthest lies just ahead. A bit more elevation and some hopping across a boulder-field leads to the summit. It's a nice place to stop for lunch, with wonderful views of the lake and the mountains all around, and a few boulders to shelter behind if it's windy. Take a break and enjoy the scenery! The route to the next two peaks involves a descent back to the meadow, heading back the way you came, then a bit of easy ridge-walking up to each summit then down the slopes of each one, before you wind up back at the top of the bluffs. Straight down from there gets you to the fire lookout, and another hour or two puts you back at the parking lot. Depending on your route, the maximum elevation gain would be about 700 meters and the distance would be around 10-15 km. A typical day on the Bald Hills takes me about 5 to 6 hours, typically leaving time to make it back to Jasper for supper. Parker's Ridge Like Sulphur Skyline, Parker's Ridge is another one that is easy to do and offers unusual rewards. Located just south of the Icefields, the trail leaves straight from the highway and immediately begins a 250 meter switchbacked climb up the east face of the ridge. It's a slog, but to compensate you will very soon leave the treeline and be rewarded with good views of the surrounding mountains. Once at the top, the adventure begins! The main trail leads ahead and to the left, curving across the southern face of the ridge. Soon, you begin to get glimpses of the Saskatchewan Glacier far below, and the river valley heading south towards Banff. Few people have seen a glacier, and fewer still have seen one from above! There are lots of opportunities for spectacular photos; the glacier or the valley, the alpine meadows and tundra, and watch for a herd of mountain sheep that live there. For many people those views are more than enough, and they are happy to return to their cars. But there is another option as well. When returning, stronger hikers can stay left, watching for trails leading up a low hill. It's not much farther, but hidden behind that hill is Mt. Athabasca! Once on top, hikers can get a good close-up view of the mountain, and Hilda Glacier on its south flank. This is open alpine tundra, and it's right next to a (typically chilly and windy) major icefield. Wilcox Pass Just to the north is Wilcox Pass, a 350 meter hike the overlooks the Athabasca Glacier. From the far side of the valley, the Wilcox Pass Trail starts with a nice hike through the forest. The trail is rooted and eroded in some spots, but quite passable. Soon you will leave the treeline and reach the first of many outlooks. Nice views, and the terrain starts to open up. Wilcox Pass has been described as "the one you will compare all others to" – it has everything, from mountains to glacier views, to flowers and alpine meadows, to mountain sheep and mountain streams. The hike is especially nice in mid-summer, when flowers come out everywhere – try for the last week of July or the first week of August. Like many trails in the National Parks, this one has suffered from severe trail-braiding. The alpine terrain is very sensitive, and takes a long time to recover from even the smallest footprint. Try to stay on the beaten path so there's something left for others. Following the trail takes you high into the alpine, and you will be rewarded with views of the glaciers and mountains in the area. Mountaineers will have access to Wilcox Peak and to the surrounding summits, but most travelers will be content with the scenery, the flowers, and perhaps a glimpse of the mountain sheep that live there. There is a cairn at the top of the pass and most people stop there before retracing their steps. There is an unofficial trail that continues down the other side and ends at Tangle Falls, but you would have to have a car parked at both ends to do the trail as a through-hike. The distance to the top of the pass is about 4 km, so expect to take 3-4 hours to do it. A pretty good destination, though, if you're driving down from Jasper. Obviously, there are many more great hikes in Jasper National Park, from easy pond loops to week-long backpacking trips. Some are more challenging than others, but they are all spectacular and rewarding, and all reflect the character that is unique to the Canadian Rockies. Need to Know Information You will be required to buy a national park pass, but access to the trails is free. These can be purchased by the day or annual passes are also available. Best Time to Go June through October. If you're looking for more solitude (and lower prices!), the shoulder season months of June, and September/October can work. Getting There From Calgary, take the Trans Canada Highway into Banff National Park (1 hour), and turn north on the Icefields Parkway (Hwy 93) to get to the town of Jasper. From Edmonton, take the Yellowhead Trail (Hwy 16) west to Jasper (about 4 hours). Maps National Geographic offers their Jasper National Park Map Pack. Less detailed maps are also available free from the Park Information Office. Books The Canadian Rockies Trail Guide, by Brian Patton and Bart Robinson. For everything you ever wanted to know about the Canadian Rockies, look for the Handbook of the Canadian Rockies by Ben Gadd. Editor's Note: This article by contributor Peter McClure originally appeared in Issue 13 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.

The arrival of spring brings a lot of things for the outdoor enthusiast to get excited about, including longer days, warm temperatures, and melting snow for those of us in the north. However one additional perk that spring brings is the annual REI Member Reward (previously known as the REI Dividend) release. For REI members, this is the time of the year when REI Co-op members receive their rewards from REI purchases you made during the 2024 season. Gear-up with the help of REI Member Rewards When are Rewards Applied? I've been an REI Co-op member for about 25 years – I originally signed up to get an REI Dividend when purchasing a higher-priced jacket, where the dividend back ended up being more than the price of the REI Membership itself (at the time). Each year it seems the rewards are applied a bit earlier in the season. While March is the official timeline here, frequently and if you check, you might just find your member rewards sitting in your account early in the month or even in late February these days. REI Co-op also offers an annual member sale in March, and by using your reward combined with discounts during the sale, you can often pick up some nice gear at a nice discount and perhaps with no money out of pocket. While it's not quite January (which is when I usually start getting ancy for the season ahead and start contemplating what I'll use my REI Reward towards), the March or so release on the membership reward is usually good timing for hiking season and REI Membership sales. How to Check Your REI Reward / Dividend Balance Your rewards are first applied to your online REI account. However, you can also easily check your REI Membership balance here (from time to time at the previous link, you may be able to check your balance without logging in). Additional notices will arrive later by snail mail provided that you made at least $10 in purchases the previous year, unless it was your first year as a member. Note that your reward does expire. You typically have almost 2 years to use your balance. For example, for rewards that will be applied in spring of 2025, you'll have until January 3rd, 2027 to use your balance. Use it or lose it! REI Rewards arrive just in time for spring. How Much is the REI Reward? REI members typically receive 10% back on eligible purchases. This is on full-priced REI purchases only, REI Outlet and sale items don't apply here and you won't get a reward back on sales tax, either. Additionally, some services like classes, gear rentals, REI gift card purchases, garage sales, or an REI Adventure Trip for example, are not eligible or are only eligible at a reduced amount. More details on all the fine print here. Throughout the calendar year, you'll accrue these rewards; the total will then be applied to your account the following year. For example, this year in 2025 all the rewards you accumulated during the 2024 calendar year will be applied to your account. Thus, is it really a 2024 or a 2025 member reward? It's a bit open to interpretation. Note that while you won't earn rewards if you're buying gift cards, you do earn rewards back when you shop using a gift card towards an REI purchase. While your purchases on clearance items, used gear, or REI Adventure Travel won't accrue rewards, once you're signed up for a membership you'll start to earn rewards from your very first purchase on new gear purchased at full price at REI. Other Ways to Earn Towards your REI Co-op Member Reward If you're interested and choose to sign up for the REI Co-op Mastercard in combination with your REI Membership, you can also find ways to add a boost to your total REI Rewards when Co-op member reward season rolls around. If you are looking for another credit card, the REI Co-op Mastercard gives Co-op members additional rewards on purchases at REI, on additional services at REI, and even on purchases outside REI. These rewards are all combined with your normal purchases at REI throughout the year and added to your total REI Rewards. While we are not looking to broaden our horizons here at TrailGroove into the financial advice sector, the REI Co-op Mastercard does offer the potential to raise up your total REI Rewards, even on groceries. When you purchase gear at REI, you can earn rewards towards next year's purchases with a one-time membership fee. How to Use Your Rewards Rewards are applied to your account and can be used at REI.com and in the REI app at checkout, just make sure you check the box to redeem your balance before finalizing your purchase. At an REI store, you can ask an associate to apply your balance at the register. In the days of old, you could also request your balance as a check later in the season, but REI Co-op no longer offers this option. I always used my balance before they became paper check-eligible, anyway. Even if you're all set on gear, I find replacing old socks and stocking up on some freeze-dried meals for the backpacking season ahead is always a slam-dunk no-brainer type of purchase. While you won't be earning a Co-op Member Reward for REI Outlet purchases, you can certainly use already-earned REI Rewards towards gear when you shop REI Outlet discounted gear. REI Rewards are applied in March and are (for the most part) based on the total amount you spent on full-priced items during the previous calendar year. How to Become an REI Member While this has gone up a bit in recent years, an REI Co-op Membership is just a one-time $30 charge for life. Once signed up you'll be eligible for member rewards and member sales. As long as you plan on shopping at REI more than once it's likely worth the sign up cost – you can become a member here. After your one-time membership fee you'll be assigned a unique member number associated with your lifetime membership. The longer you've had your REI Co-op Membership the lower your member number will be. Whether you shop online or in REI stores, make sure you're purchases on outdoor gear are associated with your REI Membership number either by logging in at checkout or by relaying your REI Membership number to an associate at an REI store. Overall REI offers a great rewards program and it's hard for me to imagine being an outdoor enthusiast without being a member. Members may also receive early access to new gear, special pricing, & more deals from time to time. In Conclusion Provided that you've accrued a balance in your account, REI Reward season typically arrives at just the right time to get ready with new gear for the spring and summer hiking season ahead. Whether it's a new sleeping bag or just a new pair of socks, having a little credit sitting in your REI Membership account combined with the sales that REI offers during this season, can go a long way towards getting your outdoor gear set and your spring hiking off to a great start. Head over to REI.com to learn more about their membership benefits and you can check your balance here.

Although the venerable titanium shepherd's hook stake is an ultralight favorite, if you've ever used a set you know that one of their drawbacks is their ability to blend into their surroundings when loose on the ground. This can make packing up in the morning frustratingly difficult as you search for that last stake that's somewhere on the ground in a very specific area, but seemingly invisible. To assist, there is one way that will help ensure your set of titanium shepherd's hook stakes all stay together and find their way back to your stake bag as quickly as possible. Using Heat Shrink Tubing for Your Tent Stakes Don't look to paint that chips off to solve the problem - buy a supply of heat-shrink tubing in your favorite bright color - you'll need something in the 1/8" or 3/32" size (3/32" is easiest to use but can be hard to find). You can find both sizes here at Amazon.com. Slide the tubing on your stake, using an inchworm technique if needed. Either precut your tubing (you'll need about 2" per stake) or slide the tubing on and then cut at the desired location. Resist the temptation to use the heat from a lighter to set the tubing - The yellow flame will cover your new tubing with a sooty residue. A hair dryer, or the clean blue flame from a canister stove or similar works well. Your local electronics store or various online retailers are your best bet for supplies. You can find various sizes (and in a wide selection of bright colors) of heat shrink tubing at Amazon. For more on tent stakes, see our full guide on backpacking tent stakes.

Instead of blowing your night vision out with your state of the art LED headlamp to find that tent and / or sleeping bag zipper late at night, one tip I like to utilize is to use a short length of glow in the dark paracord as a zipper pull for your sleeping bag and tent zippers. Now you can get out of your tent at night without having to fumble to open zippers and can quickly locate your zipper pulls potentially without even having to use your headlamp. When sufficiently "charged", glow in the dark zipper pulls can be quite helpful during the night. Making the Zipper Pulls For the zipper pulls around a 3/32" size works well, and I like to carefully singe the cord with a lighter at home before attaching it to my gear to prevent fraying. Sometimes it's the little things – if you’re not sold on glow in the dark paracord, MSR also offers some ready to go zipper pulls with a glow in the dark plastic tab instead – you can find those here at REI Co-op. If using paracord, you can cut your zipper pulls long so that you can tie a knot in the end of the zipper pull – I like to use a figure 8 knot here that offers a nice grip when the knot is formed. In any event, these glow in the dark solutions will need to be “charged” in order to glow. If I’m using my headlamp (before going to bed for example) I like to hold the light on the glow in the dark item for a few seconds to charge it prior to turning off my light.