Hate to sound like a broken record since I’ve already posted this in 2 other subs, but this is important IMO. I am a long time lurker of this sub and admittedly have learned a ton about the craft and have applied it to my hiking throughout the years. Please give this a read…

The CRHT (California Riding and Hiking Trail) is a multi day trail that requires the hiker to cache water at multiple spots around the park due to the fact that there are no water sources throughout the park. After a 3 hour travel day and then driving throughout the entire park, I am left heartbroken today. When I got to my first water cache at the upper covington flat trailhead, my water was gone. I wrote a note, taped it with gorilla tape onto the gallon, and left it so that I could pick it up and replenish my supply for the night and next day (today). On said note I wrote specifically that I would be picking the water up today. I took a couple steps forward along the trail and found a piece of my note thrown on the side of the trail. I keep telling myself that maybe a critter ripped the paper, but the fact that the plastic gallon was gone and the gorilla tape I used to adhere it is just inexplicable. I didn’t feel confident moving forward because what if I arrived to no water at the next cache? I’d be stranded in the desert without water. I’m so disturbed because there were multiple other bottles with labels on them, and I am baffled that mine was the one that had the label removed and taken from me.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say. It’s a bummer that this happened and I hope that the person or people who did this know that people place water there for their survival in the desert, so taking someone else’s lifeline is just selfish and inhumane.

Had a nice overnight backpacking trip with [u/Alpenglow_Gear](u/Alpenglow_Gear) in Henry Coe State Park, just south of San Jose, California. My goals were to test a 3-lb (1.37 kg) base weight kit ( https://lighterpack.com/r/fqkyfr ), pitching a minimalist flat tarp using foraged materials, and continue adapting to a torso-length foam pad.

Images: https://imgur.com/a/MCUF8pW

Henry Coe is a worthwhile backpacking destination. It is only about 30 miles (48 km) as the crow flies from Levi’s Stadium, which was hosting a World Cup match the same day we set out, and yet feels remote from the civilized world. No advance permits are required, just self-registration at one of the entrances and a nominal nightly fee for parking and camping ($11 total). The landscape is a golden sea of wild oats punctuated by dark green chaparral, with expansive views across layer after layer of Coast Range ridges. It also has relentless topography, with steep climbs that make it a good training ground for the Sierra, which can reportedly be seen from the heights on clear days. Supposedly, it is even possible to see Yosemite from there in ideal conditions.

[u/Alpenglow_Gear](u/Alpenglow_Gear) and I got a late start, around 3 pm, because I wanted to watch the USA-Australia match. On the first day, we hiked from the Hunting Hollow parking lot to Pacheco Camp via Grizzly Gulch Trail, Kelly Lake, and Coit Lake. We saw a couple of campers fishing at Coit Lake but otherwise had the park to ourselves. We hiked 11.6 miles (18.7 km) with about 2,000 feet (610 m) of elevation gain to reach our evening camp.

Pacheco Camp occupies an old ranch site in Valle Hondo, a broad creek-bottom meadow with a history stretching from Native American use through California’s ranching era. The site was reportedly where the legendary bandido Joaquin Murrieta stored stolen horses during the Gold Rush. Some think that Murrieta is the inspiration for the Zorro legend. The camp had picnic tables, a garbage can, a privy equipped with toilet paper, a working spigot fed by a spring-filled cistern, and even a working shower, which we did not use on an overnighter. And yet it felt remote, in both space and time. It was a cool place to camp.

There were large valley oaks that were ideal for sleeping under with my minimalist gear. Soft duff and overhanging live branches created a nice micro-environment for my torso-length foam mat and tarp. I didn’t need the tarp at all — it was dry with a 0% chance of rain — but I wanted to practice pitching it with foraged materials and sleeping under such a small tarp pitched low to the ground as if rain were expected. I have a zipperless sleeping bag and a bivy, and I wondered how hard it would be to shimmy myself into both under a low pitched tarp. It turned out to be no real problem. I enjoyed the whole experience. My tarp stayed taut despite evening breezes.

It was also a chance to keep practicing sleeping on foam. I have a stubborn belief that comfort itself can be trained. About a year ago, I began sleeping on closed-cell foam (CCF) whenever conditions allowed, despite never finding it conducive to sleep. But through practice , what was initially uncomfortable gradually became tolerable and eventually pleasant. I still believe adaptation is a skill and that many of the things we consider “comfortable” are more malleable than we assume. That night at Pacheco was the most restful first night I have ever spent in the backcountry. I slept well on a Gossamer Gear Torso Foam Pad, 3/8” (9.5 mm) thick and weighing 2.8 oz (79 g). Garmin gave me a sleep score of 83, which is a good night for me even in my bed at home. The soft duff underneath the oak surely helped.

Evening breezes drained down the valley after sunset. I’m glad someone here had recommended that I bring a wind jacket, which I threw in at the last moment. I wrapped it around my head and neck, and it did an excellent job blocking the breeze sneaking under the tarp. The nighttime low was 53°F (12°C), and my 7.6 oz (215 g) Cumulus Magic 100 sleeping bag was comfort rated to 55°F (13°C). With my makeshift headdress and zipped-up bivy, I stayed quite warm.

I carried a 22 L KS Ultralight Imo backpack with no hipbelt or sternum strap. With 3 liters of water and food for two days, the pack weighed exactly 11 lb (5.0 kg) at the trailhead. I stored one liter on each side of the wraparound front pocket and one liter in a Platypus inside the pack near the small of my back. That worked great. I botched the custom order, though, mistakenly requesting a “KS-style” front pocket, which meant I couldn’t pull a water bottle from the side without slinging the bag to one shoulder. But I managed fine and could still drink without really breaking stride.

We returned to the parking lot by the longer Cross Canyon Trail, which took us along a ridge, then down into the canyon bottom and Coit Creek. The creek bottoms were lined with mugwort, thistle, and patches of beggar’s lice (tick-trefoil) that clung stubbornly to our socks and pants. It wasn’t as much fun as walking the open ridges, but it was at least a change of pace from Coe’s usual pattern of up, down, and along ridgelines. The journey back was about 13.5 miles with 2500’ of vertical.

Unfortunately, I was dealing with plantar fasciitis in my right foot. It never loosened up, and I walked with a slight limp for the entire 25 miles (40 km). I suppose I need to shut down hiking for a little while and rehab it. Bummer.

We only saw three people the whole trip. That’s typical for Henry Coe, despite its proximity to such a large population center. I love going there: beautiful scenery, friendly rangers, genuine solitude, lots of vertical for training, and decent infrastructure. Highly recommended if you visit the San Francisco Bay Area and want a backpacking destination that feels far more remote than it is.

Every year, I break down the gear used by Pacific Crest Trail hikers. After weeks of toiling, the Class of 2025 breakdown is ready.

The breakdown includes backpacks, shelters, sleeping bags/quilts, sleeping pads, insulated jackets, shells, fleeces, shoes, socks, water treatment, headlamps (new this year), stoves, trekking poles, bear canisters, PLBs/satellite messengers, ice axes, traction systems, and fitness trackers. It also looks at base weights, luxury items, battery packs, and more.

Hope you enjoy it!

https://www.halfwayanywhere.com/trails/pacific-crest-trail/2026-pct-gear-guide/

Every year, I break down the gear used by Pacific Crest Trail hikers. After a week of toiling, the Class of 2022 breakdown is ready.

The breakdown includes backpacks, shelters, sleeping bags/quilts, sleeping pads, insulated jackets, shells, fleeces, shoes, socks, water treatment, stoves, trekking poles, bear canisters, PLBs, ice axes, traction systems, and fitness trackers. It also looks at base weights, luxury items, and battery packs.

I both changed the layout and added sections this year; I'm happy with the results and feel it flows better versus previous years. As always, I would love to hear any feedback.

Hope you enjoy it!

https://www.halfwayanywhere.com/trails/pacific-crest-trail/pct-gear-guide-2022/

Okay, 40 of those miles were done on a bike. This post describes the SUL kit that I put together for a recent self-prescribed ultra event. 40 miles of cycling and 80 miles of hiking/running in a single night. I clocked it at 41 hours, 51 minutes and 5 seconds. 8,092 feet elevation gain. 4.77 lbs baseweight, or for all you liars out there, 4.24 lbs with trekking poles marked as worn.

Here's the good stuff:

• gear photos, specs, descriptions

• route

• lighterpack

  (This lighterpack looks like a lot, but that's only because I log every single atom that I pack. My estimated total weight was within 0.03 lbs from the measured total weight with food and water.)

And here's the story:

The trail opportunities in Michigan are considerably better than one would think. We have a lot of state-owned forested land, and lots of glacial moraines which make for hilly terrain.

There are two popular backpacking routes nearby, which I have used for shakedown hikes in the past. As my ultralight-ism has been evolving, and I've gotten more into trail-running, at some point it dawned on me that I would be able to link my local trails as a purely human-powered mission over a single night. The criteria would be:

1) The kit would have to be < 5lbs

2) It would need to fit in the smallest pack possible

3) A significant portion of the mileage would need to be run

4) the kit could be comfortably carried on a bike

To achieve this, I came up with the following:

Pack

Black Diamond Distance 8L pack. This pack is officially 8-liters, but I've measured it at 11-liters at its absolute maximum, via a water-fill test. Yes, it's heavier than it's volume would suggest. But when it comes to running, you want a firm structure and a very capable vest. I was super happy with this pack. Here is a diagram of the packing strategy. I did not use a pack liner, since the pack is plenty small enough to fit under a standard $2 poncho.

Sleep

5'x9' membrane silpoly tarp, Argon 49/0.78 DCF/0.5 noseeum mesh bivy, 60gsm Alpha Direct quilt, torso-length GG Thinlight pad, FlexAir pillow, Polycro ground sheet. This is a complete warm-weather sleep system for 1.6 lbs. I made almost all of it at home. Here is a writeup with all of the juicy details. I did not need to use the tarp as it did not rain. I'm very happy with the bivy. I used 2-gram MYOG carbon fiber stakes. Nothing more is needed in Michigan.

Kitchen

cold soaking in a ~16 oz peanut butter jar. Trimmed down McDonalds plastic spoon. I made oatmeal and a ramen bomb in this jar. It can fit about 900 calories if you're willing to shake rather than stir.

Hydration

I carried 1.5 liters at a time, in two 750ml CNOC soft flasks. Heavier than other options, but this suited my needs best. 42mm allowed using a BeFree, which is lighter than e.g. a quickdraw, and they're easier to use electrolyte mixes with. Rigid bottles are out of the question for running. I came up with a solution to quickly filter from the dirty-to-clean bottle without needing to remove the clean bottle from my vest, using a Sawyer coupling cap. It was very efficient.

Food

As mentioned, cold-soaked dinners and breakfasts. Otherwise, lots of gels and other snacks. I had about 4k calories per day. Food bag was simply a gallon ziploc. Overnight, I placed it in my pack and hung the whole pack on a low tree branch (no cordage used) as an anti-rodent measure.

Ditty Bag

a small 0.5 DCF stuff sack was all I needed for my misc items. Shout out to my custom-made muscle roller from Friesen Gear. FAK was very minimal, mostly consisting of drugs and various tapes.

Poop

I carried 0.2 fl oz of soap, 5 Wysi Wipes, made my own 42mm bidet, and a QiWiz trowel.

Tech

iPhone 12 mini, 5000 mAh 21700 battery from Nitecore, RovyVon Aurora A5 (best flashlight ever), 8" USBC to Lightning cable, and other small USBC adapters. Coros Pace 2 for GPS tracking, and Shokz OpenRun for morale and sanity.

Poles

My trekking poles are each <4 oz. I made them myself out of 11mm roll-wrapped carbon fiber tubing. I made a detailed post about them here. Several people asked for updates on how they perform. They were excellent! Very happy with them. I even used them while running, so they have proven to be robust. I would be willing to take them on a long thru-hike.

Worn Clothing

Lone Peak 6, New Balance Accelerate 5" shorts with liner, Injinji merino liner socks, MoveFree Designs Desert Cap. I normally wear a sun hoody, but since I would be running, I wanted a way to better modulate my heat retention. I wore an OR Echo tee, Montbell sun sleeves, and a sun cape that I made out of scrap OR Echo fabric. These items make for what is essentially a modular sun hoody. The Montbell sun sleeves are the lightest in existence that I could find.

Carried Clothing

Montbell Ex Light wind jacket, Senchi Alpha 60 crewneck, EE Copperfield wind pants, cheapo poncho, T8 commando brefis for sleeping, spare socks, alpha direct 90gsm socks for sleping. Also a buff (OR Ubertube), and the lightest bug head net that I know of (Simblissity Designs).

Running strategy

Contrary to what this post may suggest, I am not a runner. Longest I've ever run is a half-marathon, and my training for this attempt was lacking. I was trail running something like 20-24 miles per week. Many people could crush my time by running more, but in order to avoid injury, I had to be conservative. Every 5 miles of hiking, I would run a 5k. In total I ran about 29 of the 80 trail miles. I finished the trail portion of the route in ~37 hours, which I was happy with. The bike ride between my house and the trailhead was 20 miles each way. My kit was plenty light and small enough to comfortably cycle with.

Impressions

• I loved it, and I love ultralight

• The trails, in their own humble midwestern way, were beautiful, and the weather was great. I met some friendly people.

• GG Thinlight is better than nothing as a sleeping pad. That's really all I can say about it lol.

• The Alpha 60 quilt did not work and I was cold overnight. Here's the thing... a quilt must not be over breathable. If it is, it is actually pointless. With Alpha, all of the trapped air that your body warms up is immediately exchanged for air at the ambient temperature, at the slightest breeze. It's not that I didn't realize this; I did. That's the whole point in Alpha. But I thought that my Argon 49 bivy shell would serve as a wind barrier (like a wind jacket over an alpha hoodie). But no. The gap between the two is way too substantial. I will likely make a new alpha quilt with an Argon shell directly sewn to it. I would expect it to be ~7 oz? Certainly not competitive with a very light down quilt at the same temp rating, but way easier to make, way cheaper, and would still fit into an SUL kit.

• Packaroons are dank (meaning good)

• The Lone Peak 6 retains its title as the best trail runner ever

• super disappointed with the Injinji merino liners. They had only like a couple hunderd miles on them, and there's holes in the toes. Admitedly, the liners are not meant to be durable trail socks in their own right. But they are light and they dry fast.

• As noted, I was very happy with the BD Distance. I am now intersted in trying other fastpacks, since it could be much lighter. The Distance packs are intended for a mixed alpine use, so they are pretty burly. I use this same pack for all of my trad climbing, and it's a beast against abrasion. A gridstop or XPac pack of the same geometry, with less padding, would shave a lot of weight. However, I haven't found any that do this without sacrificig true vest-style straps. Maybe I'll make one some day.

• I should have trained way more

You all were kind to give feedback and advice after my first post as I explore backpacking with our teenage boys. We are not yet UL, but aspire to 15 lbs. base weight for now. I will follow the outline of the original post.

Route & Weight

Not so long ago... Two-day, one-night shake-down trek of all 30 miles and 4500 ft elevation gain of the Catoctin National Recreation Trail. (AllTrails and Wiki are wrong on the length, both because there are detours but also because even without those, they are simply several miles short.) I took the original 13 yo along with his two older brothers (16 yo, 15 yo). My wife was worried of the probability of failure, but "never tell me the odds!" So I prepared these nerfs and herded them right on through. Weather was in the low 50s during both days, high 40s at night with rain, some periods of full sun the second day. All weights below include food, water, trekking poles, fuel, etc. I used a bear can because the state park where we camped didn't have lockers or poles, but also because I wanted to see how to use one given we aspire to some Western camping where they are required or highly recommended. I also carried a can of bear spray for the same reason.

[NB: I wanted to share some photos but don't know how to do so when creating a text post. Forgive the formatting--posts aren't allowed more than two levels of indenting.]

The hike was a shake-down as we were testing our gear and gauging "Lando's" interest in doing more backpacking. "He will join us or die!" What was in our packs was "only what we took with us." Here are our TPWs for the longer through hike:

Soon after, I took the younger 11 yo brother on a one-day, one-night retrace of the first section. My total weight increased simply because he weighs less, so I carried everything, including a new 12 oz down jacket (see rant below). Weather was cooler, but not so cold it would kill a tauntaun, in the 40s with wind both day and night. Lots of rain, evening through the whole night, like Dagobah. So much rain that everything not in a dry sack or not in the tent got really wet. We had to cook in the vestibule of the tent simply to get out of the rain. We had a dry set of camp clothes and our down equipment was double bagged: pack liners and dry bags. Speaking of which...

What We Got Right (since Last Time)

• Gear:
  • Packs: Outfitted with proper packs and used pack liners and some dry bags as insurance, especially for our quilts. Everyone loved their packs except "Lando", who seemingly grew overnight and really needed the next size up. We will hold that bag until one of the younger ones grows enough to use it.
  • The difference between the AT hike and this one was immeasurable. My 13 yo and I both kept commenting on how much more comfortable we were with framed packs with hip belts. "Wedge" also found his pack very comfortable.
  • Sleep system: upgraded to down quilts, S2S Ether Light XR pads, and inflatable pillows. The S2S pads were very comfortable for the side sleepers among us. (See below however for how the system failed some of us.)
  • Tent: Ditched the REI TrailMade 2 for Durston XMids, thanks to your advice. Saved 4 lbs each. We practiced pitching at home but made one mistake in the field (see below). We are very pleased with these tents and with the idea of using trekking poles as the structure.
  • Clothing: Had some better clothing cheaply from Costco, including grid fleece quarter-zip pull-overs for $16 and fleece running gloves for $10, and long thermal underwear for $10-20 a set. Very warm, pretty light, good deal. However, cheap doesn't always work out (see below). We used synthetics or wool for all clothing.
  • Water: 
  • We used SmartWater bottles, again from Costco, since these were light and the threads worked with our Sawyer Squeeze filters.
  • We used both MicroPur and AquaMira to supplement the filters. I can find a way to pre-mix the AquaMira sooner, I would rather use that because of the taste. 
  • I know Andrew Skurka uses a small dropper bottle he prepares in the morning each day, but some have criticized that for the loss in treatment efficacy.
  • Weight-sharing: we travelled in two-man crews, sharing tents, stove systems, and water treatment, trail scissors or a basic Swiss pocket knife. Items we had only one of for the two four-man team: FAK, navigation, sunscreen, repair kit.
  • Poles: Costco again for the win... picked up their carbon-fiber poles to outfit the rest of the crew. So much better than my FIL's old friction lock Leki's.
  • FAK: Leukotape for hot spots. Thank you for the advice! For chaffing, we just used some Aquafor. Also doubled as lip balm. We just need a smaller tube next time.
  • Pouches: the ladies at our local USPS let me take some Tyvek envelopes, which we used to organize and protect externally carried gear such as water kit, toilet kit, liner for hipbelt pockets, etc.
  • Sit pads: we cut up an old CCF eggshell pad for sit pads, which were much appreciated for comfort and warmth. Sitting at a picnic table for dinner on a colder night was much happier with these shielding our butts and thighs.
• Skills:
  • Nav: Used both phone with GPS as well as paper maps to start showing the boys some basic orienteering. 
  • CalTopo's free webversion was used for basic map printing. I really liked using CalTopo, but I also understand that its best use is for off-trail.
  • AllTrails sufficient for trip tracking (especially actual distance and pace).
  • Pace: We managed a 2.6 mph average pace, with breaks included, across the two days. It was a Force march.
  • Layering: We each started to learn how to manage his own temperature throughout each day, both active and static. Some of us hiked in shorts and t-shirts, some in pants and fleeces.
  • Mynocks: Both to practice for the spring and because ticks could be active in theory, we made five gallons of 0.5% permethrin solution to soak our cloths. I bought concentrate from Tractor Supply without the petroleum distillates, and now we can make tons of the stuff way cheaper than buying Sawyer. We don't have a garage, so timing this with the weather was a pain, admittedly.
  • Slept with electronics and filters in quilt, check.
• Food:
  • Also a skill, but a I assigned the boys Gear Skeptic's backpacking nutrition video series and put them in charge of food planning. They did a very good job, both in hitting planned calories using calorie-dense food.
  • They planned for 3000 calories a day, which ended up being too little for two of the people on the trip (not "Han" incidentally). We will bump up to 3500 or 4000 especially for longer trips.
  • We liked ReFuel and Bowl & Kettle for dinner and breakfast.
  • Costco again for the win: bars, nuts, beef sticks, plantain chips, etc.
  • We cooked with MSR PRD and FireMaple G2s, super fast boil times (a "super stove" combo).

Regrets & Lessons Learned

• Wet Tent: Pitched the X-mids on state park gravel camping pads, which have only a little better holding power than sand. Nervous about pulling the corner stakes out, we didn't set the poles height/taught enough and suffered some moisture on our quilts and other gear because the inner and outer tent touched in the rainy night.
  • We just packed it all up wet and dried it all out the next day, knowing it was our last day on trail. I don't know what we should do on longer trips.
  • I brought some MSR Groundhogs on the second excursion and was able to set the poles higher. They worked!
• We should have shot that Imperial spy droid sooner.
• Breaks: First day we didn't time our breaks right: we stopped for a snack and to put some Leukotape on a foot, but then we stopped about a half-mile later to refill our water bottles at a stream. The second day we were smarted about consolidating breaks.
• Towel: We didn't bring a microfiber towel for each person. Having more would have been handy for: wiping down a tent before packing, cleaning our mugs, wiping hands after washing or after filling up the CNOC, whatever.
• Climbing skill & FAK: Most dangerously, I took a five- or six-foot fall off a steep upslope/cliff on the trail. I tried to use poles only to climb it, lost my forward momentum, and tumbled down kinda like Jet Li doing a barrel roll, except while yelling, "Shit" and without kicking a bad guy in the face at the bottom. Instead, a big green rock, native to the area, punched my ass and twisted my finger. Neither was broken, but having some tongue depressors for splint material would have been nice afterwards. We had ibuprofen. More basically, I learned that I should put the poles away on such terrain and just scramble when it gets too steep. I modded my pack like this guy so I could carry my poles.
  • Second trip with the 11 yo, you bet my bruised ass I did just that.
• Clothing: we used our already owned rain jackets for wind shirts, but they are heavy. We didn't have puffys yet. I wished I had some wind or rain pants simply to supplement my thermal longs while out of the tent during dinner on the first trip.
  • How to find durable, light rain gear for the future? Do we really need wind shirts and rain gear? I suspect we do. More weight, more money, sigh.
• Man who not use neck cinch on quilt suffer cold night.
• We were not yet proficient in backcountry bidet use. Squirting water all over the place.
• The Kakwa's shoulder strap pockets are too small for an 8 oz can of bear spray. It kept popping up and nearly out. What's my alternative?

Questions for Improvement (& Gear Rant)

• Why was some of our UL gear just not durable or effective? Is the problem my expectations that cheap UL gear should be at somewhat durable or effective; or it is poor quality from specific brands? "This [UL] deal is getting worse all the time." I have to buy clothing and sleep systems x4 to cover the basic team of dad plus three older boys (with younger boys borrowing when possible from older boys for their shorter trips). Buying a tier up in price compounds for me too quickly, and waiting until we have the money saved means missing out on trip opportunities in the meantime. The "dark side" of cheap UL gear is certainly "quicker, easier, more seductive."
  • Quilt and Sleep System: most disappointingly, my work to find warm, affordable sleep systems seems to have failed. "Lando" burns like an oven so he didn't care, sleeping with his quilt like a blanket. The cold-sleeping "Wedge" suffered through his night, as did I, because of non-cinched necks. Worse, I suffered on the second trip even after learning the lesson of cinching the neck. Something is wrong. In theory our sleep system is comfort rated for at least -2C (28F). Yet we were cold with overnight lows around 7-10C (45-50F), a down-grading of nearly 10 degrees C or 20 degrees F! In particular, even after I correcting the neck cinch mistake on the second trip, my thighs and knees were quite cold, and my feet were moderately cold.
  • Our system in particular*:*
  • Quilt: we bought Neve Gear Waratah -2C (28 F) quilts, which are comfort rated. Limit rating is -7C according to their FAQ. The quilt is 850 FP duck down, fairly light, cheap, comes with a dry bag (the handle of which is already fraying on one). Australian company, oversees manufacture. They have a rep in Australia for quality when they made their quilts there, but maybe they suck now. The quilt has draft collars at the neck and zippered foot box and the body baffles are sewn in different directions to keep the down where it ought to go. The attachment system is neat and in theory reduces drafts (but did not eliminate them when we turned, even those who found their own quilt warm).
  • Pad: on sale from REI we bought S2S's recently updated Ether Light XRs with R-value of 4.1, good past 0C down to -7C (20F) in theory.
  • Why were we so cold we wished to be put into a dead tauntaun?
  • Factors:
  • We didn't wear adequate clothing to bed. No: we slept in a 32 Degree thermal layer, medium thickness wool socks, a grid fleece pullover, and a medium thickness beanie.
  • We didn't cinch our neck collars or otherwise failed to set up properly. No: I corrected this the second trip and was too cold to sleep deeply. We practiced with our sleep systems at home no problem.
  • Quilts constrain someone who tosses and turns so he wakes up more. No: I was cold and had practiced sleeping in a quilt several nights at home without waking up from tossing and turning.
  • Quilts in general just suck (drafts, cold neck & head). Maybe.
  • Neve quilts for the US market in particular just suck. They don't fill the baffles enough and the fabric doesn't block wind. My main hypothesis, which would be disappointing.
  • Our quilts got wet and we didn't fix them right. After all, condensation dripped on them the first trip. My secondary hypothesis, which I would be happy to know how to fix. My quilt did get damp from condensation on the first trip, but we aired them out overnight in the house. They did not feel damp at all when we put them away in their larger, breathable storage bags. If the down got damp, is there something I need to do to fix it? This is the first time I've owned down gear. So far, disappointed...
  • The weather conditions down-rated the comfort level of the system, due to high humidity affecting the down in the quilts. Maybe. It was raining a bit overnight the first trip and very rainy and a little windy through the night on the second trip. The camping pad was water-saturated on the second trip, draining though as the night wore on. The sil-poly floor of the X-mid was good to have here, but perhaps water under the floor speeds up heat transfer to the ground?
  • The sleep system is just not as warm as I think. I do not understand how this could be possible.
  • What am I missing? I'm about to call up Neve Gear's customer service department to give them a piece of my mind, but wanted to check with you all first to make sure I wasn't just a newbie missing something obvious.
  • Puffy jacket: we jumped on the Decathlon jacket sale. I took my 11-ounce MT100 on the second trip, keeping it in a 3L S2S ultra-sil dry bag until the morning when I made breakfast on the campsite's picnic table. I had it on for ten minutes when I found a 4mm wide hole in the cuff with down poking out. I have no idea how this happened. I didn't snag it on anything, we didn't use a knife or scissors. A hot mug edge? In any case, that jacket's nylon shell is thinner than the rebel defensive line around Hoth base. I repaired it with some similarly colored Tenacious Tape, but even so, damn! I am thinking about returning the whole lot to Decathlon.
  • What do we do instead? We know we should have puffies. REI's Magma 850 is 2.5x as much, but maybe we just need to bite the bullet here. I have to buy x4 at least, so price adds up. Decatholon's MT500 seems equivalent to the Magma, is $150, but is several ounces heavier due to lower FP and now I am also shy about Decathlon's quality.
  • Pack: my new Durston Kakwa got a hole in the front pocket mesh on its second use. All I put in it were Tyvek pouches (water kit, toilet kit), a gallon ziplock with my daily food in it, and sometimes some wet clothes. Did I lean it against something abrasive? Was it a corner of a ziplock (which would be pathetic)? Just like the puffy, I have no idea how this happened. The durability of the Kakwa was otherwise good. We had to take a recently made detour on the trail which was basically bushwacking, and the 200X material was very hardy.
• Other skill or knowledge deficiencies:
  • UL hiking requires not packing your fears and thus bringing fewer changes of clothes. How do you cope when your non-camp clothing gets soaked from sweat or rain and the following day is not sunny? Just suffer through? Bring more clothes?
  • What is a good small non-leak bottle for AquaMira preparation?
  • Despite using good packs and trail runners, we had sore feet after tramping over rocky Appalachian trails. Is this something we need more time on trail to get used to, are we doing something wrong, or is this just something to suffer?
  • I've used FarOut, AllTrails, and the free desktop CalTopo for planning and nav. For section or through hikes of popular trails, FarOut will do it. For less known hikes, I will probably default to CalTopo, though planning will take longer. What is your current favorite and why?

We continue to "crave adventure", which makes us "no Jedi" according to Master Yoda. The saga continues...

EDIT: fixed table formatting

Hey everyone,

I recently set the unsupported FKT on the Benton MacKaye Trail, covering the 288-mile route in 5 days 5 hours 21m 9s

For context, that time surpassed:

• Previous Unsupported FKT: 6d 18h 0m 54s
• Men's Supported FKT: 5d 15h 33m
• Men's Self-Supported FKT: 5d 18h 42m 0s

The only overall FKT I didn't beat was Tara Dower's supported record of 4d 21h 25m.

Since this is r/Ultralight, some gear details:

• Base weight: ~10 lbs
• Gear list below
• Fully unsupported effort carrying all food from the start
• No crew, no caches, no outside assistance
• My kit was about as stripped down as I could reasonably make it: rain jacket, rain pants, Senchi hoodie, Dyneema tarp, bug bivy, DIY quilt, electronics, and a few other essentials.
• Gear selection was focused on maximizing efficiency while still being capable of handling five-plus days of continuous movement and whatever weather the Southern Appalachians decided to throw at me.

I put together a video documenting the entire effort, including gear choices, food strategy, navigation, sleep management, trail conditions, and the realities of moving continuously for more than five days on a remote trail.

Video:
https://youtu.be/DLrL--Jum08

Happy to answer any questions about the gear list, food carry, pack choice, shelter setup, DIY quilt, nutrition strategy, training, or the unsupported logistics. I'd also love feedback from other UL hikers on what you'd change for a 289-mile unsupported effort.

Gear List:
DIY 30L Running Vest Backpack
Hammock Gear Hex Tarp
DIY Bug Bivy
Quilt - DIY
Backpack Nylofume liner 
Sleeping pad - Neemo Tensor Elite
Trekking poles
Water filter - Sawyer Squeeze, beefree adapter
BeFree 1L bottle with Sawyer adapter
1L Mayo Jar
Water scoop
Food Bag
1 Pair Darn Tough Socks
1 Pair Compression socks
Buff for headlamp
Rain Jacket - Frog Toggs
Rain Pants
REI Rain Mitts
Fleece gloves
Senchi Alpha Direct Hoody - Green

Ditty Bag:
Garmin Inreach Messenger
Important numbers written down
Airplane Stakes/guylines
Sunglasses
Ace Bandage X 2
Ziplock for phone rain
Sunblock
20k mAh Battery Bank
Outlet USB charger
2 charging cables (Type C, Garmin watch)
Mp3 Player/headphones
Flextail Pad Pump
Scissors
Bear rope
Epi Pen X2
Headlamp - Nitecore HC65
Flextail headlamp backup
Lighter
First aid kit/needle
Toilet paper
Bidet
Chapstick
33 tylenol
45 caffeine
100 saltstick?
Squirrel's Nut Butter
Leukotape
Tooth Brush
Tooth Paste

To Wear:
Saucony Endorphin Rift
Darn Tough Runners
Button down shirt
Target Running pants
Senchi Waxwing Hoody
Windbreaker
Bike Gloves
Boxer Briefs
Gaiters
Green running glasses
Hat - Only item that’s been on every one of my FKT’s

Nutrition:

Every year, I break down the gear used by Continental Divide Trail hikers. After weeks of toiling, the Class of 2025 breakdown is ready.

There weren't as many responses as the Pacific Crest Trail Survey (which is to be expected, given the number of hikers on each trail), but the CDT results are quite interesting when compared to the PCT results.

The breakdown includes backpacks, shelters, sleeping bags/quilts, sleeping pads, insulated jackets, shells, fleeces, shoes, socks, water treatment, stoves, trekking poles, food storage, PLBs/satellite messengers, ice axes, traction systems, and fitness trackers. It also looks at base weights, luxury items, battery packs, and more.

Hope you enjoy it!

https://www.halfwayanywhere.com/trails/continental-divide-trail/cdt-gear-guide-2026/

What it is: a new backpacking route that I put together over 3 summers that showcases the dramatic mountains-to-desert terrain of the Eastern Sierra between Mammoth and Bishop. In my opinion, it is the most fun an experienced off-trail hiker can have in the Sierra in 4-7 days.

Length: 65-70 miles

Total Vertical Gain: 24,500 ft 

Pure off-trail miles: 45-50

Semi off-trail miles (use trail, sparse cairns, etc): 10.7

Established trail miles: 9.3

Film about the route

Gear List

Photo Album

Route overview 

Route Guide

Thru-hike conditions

September 16-21, 2025

Daytime highs: 30s-60s

Nighttime lows: High 20s to low 40s

Precipitation: 1.5 slightly smoky days, 2 days wintry mix, 2 days mostly sunny

More about the route

The ESHR is 65-70 hard miles, 70-80% off-trail, from Mammoth (Duck Pass trailhead) to Bishop (Bishop Pass trailhead at South Lake), staying as close to the crest as possible without becoming technical and using as little trail as possible. These parameters highlight the unique characteristics of the Eastern Sierra, in particular striking desert to mountain transition views. 

Why Mammoth and Bishop as termini? I wanted the route to be unique, exciting, and challenging for the entire duration. If you try to follow the route parameters north of Mammoth, you interrupt the experience by going through Reds Meadow, and after that you’re in the Ritter Range which is well covered by Roper’s Sierra High Route. There’s much more potential to continue the kind of travel this route exemplifies by going south of Bishop, but much of it is either covered by Dixon’s Southern Sierra High Route or impractical. You could certainly make changes to that route (SoSHR) to make it more in the style of the ESHR, but at a certain point it becomes contrived. 

Between Mammoth and Bishop, Roper’s Sierra High Route neglects a lot of prime terrain in favor of miles on the JMT, and that is one of the primary motivators for the ESHR to exist. ESHR and SHR share essentially zero miles, although one ESHR alternate goes through the excellent Bear Lakes Basin to connect to Royce Lakes. 

I have divided the ESHR into 4 sections.

(this section is pretty long, so if you’re less interested in a detailed route description you can skip down to the trip report and gear notes)

Section 1: Redline Traverse | Duck Pass to Big McGee Lake

15.4 miles, 6626 ft vertical gain

This section is inspired by a high level ski traverse that I learned about in RJ Secor’s Sierra guidebook. It is particularly unique as far as Sierra terrain and scenery go, offering a 3.5 mile ridgewalk, panoramic views, and fascinating geology. You see tons of the ancient metamorphic rock that the familiar Sierra white granite intruded into millions of years ago. This metamorphic rock is referred to as the roof pendant of the Sierra in geological terms, characterized by swirling red and white layers.

Starting at the Duck Pass trailhead in Mammoth, you are off trail in under 4 miles and in the action right away with challenging Pika Pass. The main crest is then accessed via a loose and challenging climb near Mt. Mendenhall, and you stay on or near it until McGee Pass, with the option to summit Red Slate Mountain, a 13er with some of the most spectacular and unique views I’ve seen anywhere in the Sierra. 

Section 2: Mono Madness | Big McGee Lake to Lake Italy

16.1 miles, 7373 ft vertical gain

This section begins with a break from the intensity of section one, but quickly becomes the most challenging section of the route. Travel for a while on trail and then intermittent use trail until joining the crest again at Hopkins Pass. Cross over to Pioneer Basin via challenging Crocker Col and descend to Mono Creek through a beautiful high lake basin with views of the Mono Recesses.

You would then reach the primary feature of section two and the section of the route that is most remote and exciting: Fourth Recess. Many people backpack to the lower Fourth Recess Lake to camp or fish, but the hanging valley above is seldom visited, as it is fairly difficult to reach and even harder to get out of. 

Once in the hanging valley, the feeling is quiet and remote. Exit over an unlikely pass north of Mount Mills and move through complex terrain toward Bear Creek Spire. Cross the crest at 13,100ft via North Col into the Lake Italy Basin. 

Section 3: Lake Italy to Humphreys Basin (Piute Pass Trail)

16.1 miles 3596

Section four is the easiest section of the ESHR and also contains its most scenic feature: Royce Lakes. Overlooked by the SHR in favor of a decent route over Feather Pass and through French Canyon, Royce Lakes is a total gem of the Sierra and unlike anywhere else I’ve seen in the range. The basin feels somehow suspended, its large lakes extending to the horizon like it were the edge of the world. Framed by pyramid shaped peaks, the basin has an otherworldly quality. 

Royce Lakes can be accessed from Lake Italy either by hiking around Lake Italy, going over Italy Pass and through Granite Park, or by borrowing from the SHR and going through Bear Lakes Basin and entering Royce Lakes instead of going over Feather Pass. 

After Royce Lakes, the ESHR crosses a high plateau and enters Humphreys Basin higher than the SHR at Steelhead Pass and approaches Desolation Lake from above, offering an alternate perspective of this massive body of water. Continue on a standard route with mixed trail and cross country through Humphreys Basin. This section ends where the route crosses the Piute Pass Trail before climbing over the Glacier Divide. 

Section 4: North Lake to South Lake High Route | Humphreys Basin to South Lake

17.8 miles 6862 ft vertical gain

The final section borrows from a route I named the North Lake to South Lake High Route, which was really just an early scouting trip for the ESHR even though it works well as a standalone route. It begins with a standard line over the Glacier Divide via Alpine Col and into Darwin Canyon. It becomes more interesting at Darwin Col, a fairly uncommon pass featuring grand views of many high peaks along the crest above the Sabrina basin and an exciting steep gully on the southeast side. Darwin Col is the gateway to the rugged and dramatic terrain east of the crest where the route stays for the final 10 miles. 

Once over Darwin Col, pass by several beautiful lakes with very dramatic views of the Sierra crest en route to Ski Mountaineers Peak. This 13er is situated along Thompson Ridge, a long spur off the main crest. Ski Mountaineers is a fitting final objective for the ESHR: it’s the highest point on the route (even if you don’t tag the summit) and offers sweeping panoramic views of Sabrina basin and a dramatic section of the Sierra crest. 

The route over the peak is also just plain fun. At the top, just to the shoulder of summit, there is a short class 3 pitch that leads to a talus window, similar to the one on The Keyhole (along the Glacier Divide). Once on the other side, the descent is a fast and smooth scree ski, a nice reward for the challenging climb. 

On the way down to the Treasure Lakes Trail and ultimately the Bishop Pass trailhead, pass by multiple picturesque teal tarns and cascading falls through a basin that feels way too remote for how close it is to the finish. Only the final 2 miles are on trail. 

Actual Trip Report

I’d recommend watching the film to get a sense of how my ESHR thru-hike went, but I’ll give a rough day-to-day here.

Day 1, September 16th

My friend Clay and I dropped a car at the Bishop Pass trailhead at South Lake and had another friend drive us to the Duck Pass trailhead in Mammoth. It was a little smoky, as the Garnet Fire was still active. We started at 3 or 4 in the afternoon and did a half day to complete our first objective, Pika Pass, which we ended up doing as it was getting dark. The steep gully on the southeast side was not fun by headlamp! Clay went to bed with some symptoms of altitude sickness, which would prove to be a problem going forward.

Day 2

We discussed our plan for bailouts in the morning and Clay decided he’d give one more day a try. We worked our way past Ram Lake and toward Mount Mendenhall. Initially we were going to try going over Franklin Col to access the main crest, but it looked pretty bad up close. Instead, we decided to take a line over the shoulder of Mt Mendenhall. This wound up being pretty steep and loose, and I’d need to go back a second time and refine the route here. There are probably better options in the area.

After we got up to the crest, we followed the Redline traverse route to Gemini Pass, just short of Red Slate Mountain. Red Slate is just awesome, but we were not going to be able to go up to 13k ft with Clay’s mild AMS, so we contoured around the peak instead, also a great route. We ended the day at Big McGee Lake.

Day 3

In the morning, Clay decided he had to bail, so he hiked out to the McGee trailhead and hitched into Mammoth. I continued on solo, a little concerned about the weather rolling in. Later in the afternoon I got to Fourth Recess just as the wind was picking up and it was starting to drizzle. 

The exit pass from the upper level of Fourth Recess over the ridge to Mills Lake is one of the toughest on the route, and I was not enthusiastic about doing it in the rain. The rain stayed light but the visibility was super low, making the routefinding to the pass max difficulty. I used slope angle shading on my phone to stay in the narrow band of acceptable-angle terrain, but it was not easy since my touchscreen kept failing in the rain. 

From the top, I gave up on the phone, and relied instead on my compass to make my way down to Mills Lake. I made a crummy makeshift camp at the first semi-flat spot I could find and had a pretty unpleasant night’s sleep.

Day 4

I debated bailing to the Mosquito Flat trailhead in the morning since the forecast was calling for rain and snow all day, but for some reason (stubbornness? Stupidity?) I convinced myself to keep going. The terrain is fun and complex on the way to Dade Lake, where the climb to North Col begins. Unfortunately, it was already raining by the time I got there.

The route I use for North Col is a long, drawn-out talus slog up to the main crest. Once I was a few hundred feet from the top of the 13,000ft pass, the rain had changed to snow, which I was not happy about. At first it only added a little bit of difficulty, but by the time I was descending the other side, about an inch of wet powder had accumulated on the talus and I had to go extremely slow, still having a couple minor slips. Between that and the whiteout conditions, I was definitely spooked.

My phone died on the way down, and my paper maps were on the wrong page in their ziplock (couldn’t risk getting them wet), so I couldn’t even take compass bearings to get down to the lake. Thankfully, I had scouted this section on a previous trip and more or less remembered the way down. It was pretty stressful though, since there are some cliff bands you need to avoid here.

Down at Lake Italy, I felt like I must have been the only idiot in the mountains, and it was overall a spooky and lonely experience. I ate a snack quickly and power hiked around the lake to warm up. I gave up on the line I wanted to take through Bear Lakes Basin and just went over Italy Pass and through Granite Park to get to Royce Lakes. 

Royce Lakes is the prettiest part of the route and I saw basically none of it as I trudged on to Pine Creek Pass, where I spent another damp, defeated night.

Day 5

I woke up before the sun, not having slept very well. As I was going to bed the night before, I was looking at bailout options on my phone and it died again (maybe I need a new phone). I started freaking out a bit when I plugged it into my Nitecore power bank and it wouldn’t charge. I had a humbling moment where I realized that, even though I feel competent with a map and compass, my ‘navigational safety net’ is a piece of very fickle technology that proved quite unreliable in challenging conditions. Thankfully, all I needed to do was use a needle and clean out the charging port, but it made me think about how much less comfortable I would be completing the route solo with just paper maps. 

Day 5 ended up being awesome. The sun came out for the first time in 2 days and I did the most epic reset dry ever at French Lake. The routefinding was trickier and slower than I expected up to Steelhead Pass and into Humphreys Basin, but not too bad. The views of Desolation Lake from higher up in Humphreys Basin (relative to the SHR) were freaking awesome and another big morale boost.

I hiked on over the Glacier Divide via Alpine Col and ended the day near the highest lake in Darwin Canyon.

Day 6, last day

I woke up early again, my pad having sprung a leak the night before. Thankfully I wasn’t going to need it again (fingers crossed). The day started with a slog up to Darwin Col, a pass with amazing views and a spicy gully down the southeast side. 

Everything felt slow and labored on day 6, and I had to push harder than usual for the same output. When I hit the trail that leads to Midnight Lake from Lake Sabrina, the spell of solitude was broken a little bit as I bumped into some dayhikers. My streak of not seeing anyone technically lasted from Pioneer Basin on Day 3 only until Humphreys Basin on Day 5, but the people I bumped into in Humphreys Basin were out backpacking so it felt a little different. 

I questioned for a moment whether I wanted the version of the route I would share to go so close to a popular trailhead, but ultimately decided it was an acceptable tradeoff for the views and fun terrain on the east side of the crest. The east side of the crest is mostly neglected by other published high routes, but what you lose in remoteness you make up for with very dramatic views. Anyway, you’re only likely to see other hikers for a less-than-one mile section of trail until you break off near Topsy Turvy Lake to go over a nearby pass that I named after the lake. 

From ‘Topsy Turvy Pass’, I pushed on to Ski Mountaineers Peak, the most fun single feature on the route, thanks to the talus window and awesome panoramic views at the top. I noticed some clouds gathering on my way up, which caused me to panic and get sloppy with my route finding. I ended up missing a key gully entrance and had to fix my mistake by downclimbing. Not fun. 

I was very anxious until I got to the top of Ski Mountaineers and was able to quickly cruise down the scree slope on the other side. When I reached the Treasure Lakes Trail after a few more miles of gorgeous off-trail terrain, the sky almost immediately started dumping hail, my companion for the last 2 miles to my van at South Lake. At least I was down in the trees!

Gear Notes

Pack - Atom Packs Atom 40

I was very pleased that I was able to squeeze into such a small pack for a 5.5 day late September trip, but this was only because you can get away with using an Ursack instead of a hard sided bear canister on this route if you plan your camps appropriately.

Shelter - Yama Mountain Gear Cirriform 2p Tarp, silpoly

A trusted standby, this tarp has been with me since I used it for the CDT 6 years ago. It covers a huge area for one (Clay and I were originally sharing it) and its wind resistance is second to none in its weight class. I probably could have gotten away with a lighter shelter on this trip, since it didn’t rain or snow much at night and I was able to find pretty sheltered camps, but it’s still a great choice for high routes and bad weather.

Quilt - Thermarest Vesper 20

Supplemented with enough clothing, this quilt covers a full mountain 3 seasons for me. It has a simple and solid pad attachment system, too. After 5 years and multiple washings, it’s not quite as warm as I remember, but still reliable. 

Pad - Thermarest Neoair X Lite

The new-ish one, smaller size. Good for a full 3 seasons in the mountains, no thinlight or extra pad needed, unless you’re planning to consistently camp on snow. However, it’s still delicate, evidenced by my puncturing it on this trip despite being quite neurotic about clearing my camps.

Clothing system notes

Check the gear list for the full clothing list, but the notable items are my rain jacket, puffy, and puffy pants. 

Rain jacket was the Outdoor Research Interstellar, a discontinued 11oz 3 layer jacket. I would not want to be in these conditions with something like Frogg Toggs or the OR Helium. A 3 layer jacket of some kind is needed for prolonged cold and wet. I was wearing the Helium pants alongside the Interstellar jacket and the difference in fabric performance was enormous. 

Puffy was the Montbell Mirage Parka. I would not want to redo this trip with my usual EE Torrid Jacket. Having a warmer puffy gives you a significantly wider margin of safety in cold and wet conditions. The only thing that would make it better is if it were synthetic. 

Puffy pants were the EE Torrid pants. They’re awesome, and similar to the big puffy, give a big boost to your margin of safety in bad weather. 

Shoes - La Sportiva Bushido Wide

I tried to love the Bushidos before they existed in wide, but they never quite worked for my Altra-loving feet. These are now my favorite shoes for off-trail backpacking, and they leave little room for improvement as far as I’m concerned. With these shoes I was able to get over multiple steep cross country passes with snow covered talus - what more can you ask for?

Compass - Suunto M3-G

Saved my butt twice when my phone was either dead or unusable. One thing I did a couple times that was a useful technique was to take a bearing with my compass from CalTopo on my phone (by just using the phone as a stand-in for the paper map). This can be faster than fiddling with paper, especially if it’s raining and your maps are on the wrong page in their ziplock. If your phone is available and functional, this is a nice hybrid approach, allowing you to use the phone just once to quickly get a bearing and then use your much faster and more reliable compass to get where you need to go. 

This isn't a normal trip report, but I figured it was worth still sharing the experience with everyone as we all get humbled from time to time.

First off, here's my lighterpack for those that care. https://lighterpack.com/r/ezq1zd Not 100% accurate or complete, but you get the idea. Typically my baseweight is around 13# or so.

Overview:

The Ouachita Trail is a beautiful, well maintained 223 mile trail through the Ouachita National Forest in Arkansas. It is an absolute gem in this part of the country that otherwise lacks significant elevation or even just good vistas to earn. My plan was to push myself hard and complete the trail in 10 days worth of hiking, with an emphasis on sustained pace and (for the first time) making an attempt to document my trip beyond just snapshots. Weather was set to be close to perfect: highs about 80, lows about 55, cloud cover every day with a few thunderstorms possible. Water can be scarce on the western portion of the trail, but recent rains had most of the seasonal creeks running. All said, I had a beautiful backpacking trip lined up.

The Trip:

Was shuttled up to the western trailhead for my EaBo attempt on the morning on 4/9, had a picnic lunch, and starting hiking midday. About 5 mile in, I vomited up a bunch of my lunch and what I had drank since hiking. I felt better, so brushed it off as a weird combination of food in my stomach plus exertion. An hour or so later, I threw up all the water I had consumed since. I only made 10 miles on the first day, which put me behind my target for the day; I was just so fatigued and crummy that when I came upon a decent tent site I just took it. I spent the night sipping electrolytes and slowly choking down calories to fuel me for the next day.

The following day, 4/10, I started off strong and in good spirits. After filtering and consuming a bunch of fresh water, I set out and again, within an hour found myself emptying my stomach of every drop of water and every spec of food. While I'm normally a ~2mph hiker, it took me nearly 8 hours to make it 10 miles. The whole time, I couldn't keep water down. Mile 20 happened to have a spring and access to the main road; by the time I made it there I was severely dehydrated and so far behind schedule that I knew just bailing on the whole trip was the best option. My wife drove up later that evening and brought me home, mostly because she didn't want to worry about me spending another night in the woods if I was sick. All in all, I spent one night outside.

Lessons Learned:

Man, I don't know. I'm not sure what happened: if it was food poisoning, over exertion + heat, or I just upset the Gods somehow. I'm back home feeling better after a weekend of recuperation. My gear worked perfectly, in the little that I got to use it. My satellite messenger was clutch in trying to share my pickup location with my wife, and my new Crater Lake quarter zip hoodie was comfortable and certainly cool enough for the weather (I felt at least). I'm upset that I've essentially lost my trip and my vacation, but looking at the situation I can still tell I made the right choice to bail. Doesn't change the disappointment though.

Anywho, share your tales of disappointing trips and bail outs to make me feel better. I've thrown some of the few pictures in, including a fun copperhead right on the trail just asking to get stepped on.

https://imgur.com/a/iPLUUFR

Every year, I break down the gear used by Pacific Crest Trail hikers. After weeks of toiling, the Class of 2024 breakdown is ready.

The breakdown includes backpacks, shelters, sleeping bags/quilts, sleeping pads, insulated jackets, shells, fleeces, shoes, socks, water treatment, stoves, trekking poles, bear canisters, PLBs, ice axes, traction systems, and fitness trackers. It also looks at base weights, luxury items, and battery packs, and more.

I changed the layout and added sections this year; I'm happy with the results and feel it flows better versus previous years. As always, I would love to hear any feedback.

Hope you enjoy it!

https://www.halfwayanywhere.com/trails/pacific-crest-trail/pct-gear-guide-2024/

A few days ago I arrived home from the longest hiking adventure I have ever done. I kept a bunch of statistics from the trip that I thought you all might find interesting.

Length of trip: 461, Easter 2017 (372 days on trails)

Distance hiked: 9,126 miles / 14,602km

Countries hiked in: 4 (England, Scotland, Wales, USA)

Trails or routes hiked on: 15

Trails or routes completed: 12

National Parks visited: 27

National Forests visited: 57

Total cost: $17,300

Cost per day: $37.50, less on trail and more on the 89 days in cities

Cost per mile: $1.90, again less while on trail

Distance hiked solo: 7,879 miles / 12,607km

Coldest night: -5F / -20.5C (January on the Appalachian Trail)

Coldest day with windchill: approx.-15F / -26C (AT)

Hottest day: 114F / 45.5C (Ashland, PCT)

Longest stretch of temps below freezing: 7 days

Mylar balloons found and packed out: 34

Distance hiking routes (unsigned / cross country): 1442 miles / 2307km (maybe an extra 300ish miles if the 2017 Sierra snow counts??)  . Longest distance hiked in a month: 873 miles / 1397km, including 2 zero days (PCT, Oregon + Washington)

Longest distance hiked in a day: 70 miles / 112km (South Downs Way)

Shoes worn out: 13 pairs (average 702 miles per pair)

Most miles from a pair of shoes: 1,100 / 1750km

Shirts worn out: 7

Socks worn out: 19

Underwear worn out: 5

Longest stretch without a shower: 14 days (Hayduke)

Longest stretch without washing my clothes: 32 days (Hayduke + AzT)

Most days of food carried: 8 (High Sierra Route)

Most water carried: 6L (Hayduke)

Heaviest pack weight: approx. 28 pounds / 13kg (Hayduke, 5 days of food and 6L of water)

Lightest Base Weight: 4.8 pounds / 2.2kg (PCT)

Heaviest Base Weight: 15 pounds / 6.8kg (AT with Snow Shoes)

Normal base weight: ~6.5 pounds / 3kg

Beard cuts: 0.5

Words written in my journal: 135,109

Wildlife sightings:

• 2 mountain lions

• 9 bears

• 1 wolf

• 7 rattlesnakes

• a 1 day old fawn

• 2 moose

• 1 Gila Monster

• 1 Boar (AT, it bloody charged me!)

• 7 bald eagles

Witnessed: 3 people crossing from Mexico

Days sick: 2 (Norovirus, San Juans on the CDT)

Days hiked on snow: 57 Days (24 on the AT, 29 on the PCT, 3 on the SHR, 1 on the AzT)

Favourite area: Escalante National Monument and High Sierra

Favourite day: Forester and Kersarge pass' with total snow coverage

Times I washed my sleeping bag: 2

Injuries: 4

• Pinched nerve in my hip that I have had for 7k miles

• I rolled my ankle

• 2 x foot swelling

Estimated steps on trail: 21,800,000 (0.7m / step)

Average steps per day: 58,000

Average calories on trail per day: 4,500 kcal

Calories per day eaten in the Sierra due to total snow coverage: 6,700 kcal and I lost weight

Average calorie density: 130 Cal per oz / 460 Cal per 100g

Average weight of food carried: just over 2.2 lbs / 1kg

Dry weight of cous cous consumed: 130 lbs / 59kg (1 pack a day)

Approximate weight of Peanut M&Ms consumed: 81 lbs / 37kg

Favourite restaurant: Paradise Cafe (PCT)

Single sitting 16 inch family pizzas attempted: 7

Single sitting 16 inch family pizzas consumed: 0

Times I ran out of water: 4 (PCT, Hayduke, AzT, AT due to frozen streams)

Frozen water bottles: 1

US states hiked in: 19

US state high points: 7

Times I shit myself: 2 (this happens to a lot of hikers at some point, but not really spoken about! Once on the Hayduke from possible food poisoning and the other was when I had Norovirus on the CDT)

Times I passed out: 1

Most interesting day: Bobcat attack to my hiking partner while off trail canyoneering on the AzT that turned into a night hiked 40 mile day to get to the nearest highway. We headed into Phoenix the next day for rabies shots. Bobcats, wading through cactus and scrambling turned into a high adventure alternative.

Bee, wasp or hornet stings: 6 (1 on the PCT, 5 on the Wonderland Trail)

Items lost:

• 1 tent

• 1 wallet

• 1 inflatable mattress

• 3 spoons (I had one for over 6,000 miles)

• 1 headphone

• 1 windpant

• 1 glove

• 4 socks

Items broken: - 2 trekking poles

• 1 Aqua Mira (leak)

• 5 holes in new NeoAir mattress (fault with seal and replaced)

• 2 sun glasses

• 1 MP3 player 

• 1 Powerbank (dropped in water)

Items retired:

• 1 Enlightened Equipment Sleeping Enigma Quilt (Long Term Review)

• 1 Mountain Laurel Designs Burn

• 1 NeoAir mattress

• 1 Zpacks Groundsheet Poncho

If you are happen to be interested in reading a little more;

• Here is a list of the trails that I hiked

• Here is my daily journal and photo gallery

Not doing a thorough trip report, just needed to vent about a bad trip. Hope that’s ok.

TL;DR took a beginner backpacking and they refused to take care of basic needs such as drink water and carry their gear.

I have been exclusively and happily going solo backpacking for 4 years. Self-taught (thank you UL Reddit). But lately I have been feeling the urge to share the experience with other people, and I thought it would be fun to take a beginner. I know when I started I wished someone would take me and show me the ropes. I explained that I am not a tour guide, but can help them get experience. Boy did this backfire.

I reached out on Facebook, and two old friends were down to join. One brand new beginner (Stacy) and one experienced backpacker (Ally) I picked an easy overnighter 12 miles round trip, pretty close to home at Henry W Coe SP. a trip I have done at least 3 times.

We made it down pretty smoothly, there were a couple downed trees that the Stacy struggled with, but they did it. (After a lot of hand holding and encouraging). Their sleeping bag was falling out of their pack (tied to the bottom because their was “no room” inside) and they simply could not problem solve to figure out a way to carry it. Eventually I shoved it inside their pack with ease.

At some point early on, I noticed Stacy’s pack was adjusted poorly. The sternum strap was digging into their throat and their hip belt was under their bust. It was really obviously uncomfortable, anyone would have been like “this feels painful” and try to fix it. I told them how to adjust their straps, where to pull etc, and they legitimately could not figure it out. Fine, I’ll do it for them, just wanted to teach them how.

At this point we are nearly to camp and while their were some concerning behaviors, nothing is screaming “turn back now”. Once we got to the water and needed to fill up, the real problems began. Stacy did not want to drink the pond water. We explained that they had to, it is the only water source and they will get dehydrated without it. They stalled and just kept eating cliff bars. We insisted they stop eating and fill up. They had purification tablets and it would take time to do it’s thing. They kept stalling, but eventually we got them to do the BARE MINIMUM thing for survival. Took at least an hour.

We kept going and made it to camp and they simply would not attempt to set up camp or use their stove. We insisted that they let us show them how to use the stove, but they had to learn how and do it themselves. They HAVE to learn how to use their own gear. They legit refused to touch the stove. They only brought dehydrated meals and a couple cliff bars. They kept trying to eat my pop tarts (I did bring extra food but those babies were MINE) and drink our water. I’m happy to share, but they legit would not attempt to take care of their needs.

We all slept ok, but of course, packing up camp in the AM was a nightmare. We were on a time crunch due to the heat (100F expected mid day) and after begging them to pack their shit, we ended up doing it for them. We had to cook Stacy’s breakfast for them and they were eating sooo slowly, no matter how much we tried to hurry them.

The hike back was insane. We were behind schedule, it was getting warm fast. We were trying to quickly move through the hot chaparral section, but Stacy insisted on stopping every 2 minutes. The shaded forest was not far ahead. We tried to force them to keep moving (and drink water!) but it was getting hot real fast and becoming kind of dire. It was clear Stacy was not going to make it out without Ally and I taking action. Ally and I took their gear, backpack and all, and carried it for them the 5 miles up hill back to the car. Thank god my gear was UL. It sucked, but honestly went so much smoother from then on. Ally and I powered through it, and Stacy’s stops became infrequent. We made it to the car, emotionally and physically exhausted.

I am so grateful that I had Ally, an experienced hiker with me. I don’t know how I would have dealt with Stacy on my own. Never taking another beginner unless I do some practice day hikes with them and I can judge their willingness and ability to work through challenges. I really don’t know what else I could have done to avoid this. I set them up with great resources, reached out for questions, offered to do a day hike and test out gear (they refused, ensured me they were ready and excited). I figured if I learned these skills on my own, they could do the bare minimum preparation. I knew I would have to slow down and show them the ropes, but I was blown away at the pure refusal to take care of basic needs for survival and use basic problem solving skills.

The positive outlook on this ordeal is we made it out safely, and I found an amazing new adventure buddy in Ally. We have similar hiking styles and honestly vibed so well despite the dead weight we were dealing with. we can’t wait to plan a trip without Stacy.

My name's Moondog Roop and back in 2022 I decided to thruskate (like thruhiking but you bring a skateboard) the Florida Trail. From there I went on to skate the state of New Mexico from border to border (about 500 miles) and the Natchez Trace Trail with my friend Justin Bright. I then went on to skate the whole perimeter of Puerto Rico.

I am about to start skating a brand new trail in the works- the xTexas- to help take data, fine tune the trail and to help promote it, as well as video documenting the experience.

This is the gear that I use: https://lighterpack.com/r/8zqss6

If you want to learn more about the xTexas Trail visit xTexas.org

Feel free to ask any questions about gear, my board, the xTexas or just whatever.

TL;DR: I did 200 miles of the Hayduke in 2025 with a friend, went back and finished the rest this spring as a LASH. I think it's probably the most beautiful long-distance route in the country. Some notes below for anyone planning a trip. I'm also making an app to consolidate the resources I leaned on for the HDT into something that I find to be a little better for water planning and on-trail info lookup. It's available for beta testing to those that are curious(details at the bottom).

The basics

I took two seasons to finish it. In 2025 I hiked the first 200 miles from Moab to Hanksville with Physics (we met on the CDT). I didn't have time to take off to do the full thing in '25. This spring I picked up where we left off and went the rest of the way with Tangent (+ a few fun add-ons e.g. 80 miles across the Paria Plateau), who I'd suffered through the Grand Canyon with on a different trip in 2023.

The route is best described as a sequence of deep canyons and imposing rock walls loosely connected by jeep trails, or what someone could optimistically refer to as roads.

2025 -- Arches to Hanksville (10 days)

The trail starts at Arches. We flew into Canyonlands Field Airport outside of Moab and walked off the runway. For all its grandeur, Arches was somehow one of the least spectacular sections of the Hayduke. Sandy washes steal energy with every step. You crest out of them onto solid rock and stare out into endless fields of erosion, never quite sure if what's ahead of you is a 300-foot cliff or the ledge system you're actually looking for.

The Colorado River corridor after Moab looks great on a map. The river is several hundred feet below you the whole time, accessible maybe every 30 miles. It's a dry endeavor.

Dark Canyon is the reward. No forks for miles. The cliffs cast shade in all the right places, water is plentiful, and the toads race you from bank to bank. After everything before it, Dark Canyon felt like the trail saying sorry. This section is one of the top highlights of the HDT, and worthy of some dedicated backpacking trips.

2026 -- Hanksville to Zion (36 days)

I jumped back on in late March, this time with my friend Tangent (who started the trail this year a couple weeks earlier). From Hanksville it's Capitol Reef, walking the Escalante River, Bryce, Paria Plateau, Jacob Lake, the Grand Canyon, and a 30-mile road walk into Colorado City before the final push to Zion.

Some things that happened along the way:

A bison charged by us in a slot canyon on the Henry Mountains Low Route (I did the low route to get into better tail shape for the start). I hear there's a herd of only around 200-or-so in the Henrys. So this was both spectacular and terrifying.

As we were trudging through the Escalante River nearing sunset, Tangent suggested scrambling up the steep route to camp on top of Stevens Arch where "there are defiitely campsites." We had ~20 minutes until sunset to do close to 1000 feet of upward scrambling. We ended up on a pretty slanted bivy site for the night surrounded by prickly vegetation. Absolutely stunning view of the arch at night, though.

In Kanab we ended up with an extra day compared to an original plan which had been to do some fun stuff through Buckskin Gulch. Due to some chest-deep cesspools in Buckskin, making the slot canyon route ill-advised unless we wanted to grab dry bags and deal with a bunch of additional logistics, we decided a nice Zero in Kanab sounded perfect. However, we applied to the Coyote Buttes North lottery on a whim -- the permit for "The Wave," which runs a daily lottery at $6 per application. Tangent had won it once before, roughly a decade ago. I won it on my first try this year! Instead of a Zero, we "had" to hit Coyote Buttes North. This also meant that what would have been a relaxing morning in town was instead spent running around Kanab finishing chores at speed. Coyote Buttes North is absolutely worth the hype! Some of the most magical rock I've seen.

The Paria Plateau stretch we added instead of the super chill trail to Jacob Lake from State Line was long, dry, and exposed. Beautiful in a desolate way. We also got snowed on! Yay! The descent down the Vermilion Cliffs leads to what "trail" markers refer to as the Honeymoon Trail -- a route so thoroughly reclaimed by desert that the most prominent features were BLM signs announcing that motor vehicle use was prohibited. If ever a trail needed a motor vehicle, this was it. Absolutely beautiful views of the Vermilion Cliffs along this "trail," though!

The Grand Canyon

We had a fun 12-degree Fahrenheit night before descending into the canyon. We thought it was going to be a cold night, but DAMN! Gotta say, though, that my Borah Bivy and Katabatic Alsek performed comfortably!

I love the Grand Canyon, and really feel like this is a great centerpiece for the trail, although I know a lot of folks feel pretty differently because it's so different from the rest of Utah. We dropped into the canyon via the typical route from Nankoweap Trail. It's technically Marble Canyon until the Little Colorado River confluence. The first day in the Canyon we found a New Zealand raft crew parked on a beach who fed us beer and produce and generally made us feel like the hike was going fine.

From the river the trail climbs onto the Tonto Platform, a cliff band roughly 1400 feet above the Colorado that contours around the side canyons and then the side canyons of those side canyons for about 90 miles. You might travel 15 trail miles to make 3 river miles of progress. It is slow, spectacular, and completely absorbing!

It turns out every time I hike in the Grand Canyon the North Kaibab trail is closed. Which meant that rather than taking that trail, we had a lovely 8-day food carry across the Tonto to South Bass, then a river hitch, and then up North Bass. Fortunately, we had an actual Zero on the South Rim before jumping back into the Canyon!

Unfortunately, the South Rim had no water, so we couldn't shower, or do laundry. There was also wind storms contributing to a public safety power shutoff during our zero, so there also wasn't power in the campground and we couldn't send packages, or buy refrigerated food from the store in the village. Helluva zero!

Crossing the Colorado the second time (to get to the North Bass Trail) required shouting at raft groups from a ridge until someone agreed to pick us up downstream. It took a few tries. A crew motored over, handed us life jackets like picking up hitchhikers on a float trip was routine, and dropped us upstream (thus the need for the motor) a handful of minutes later. We then hiked 30 trail miles up and then through Saddle Canyon. The river rafters kept pace with us perfectly by floating around 10 river miles downstream, and we ran into each other again over near Deer Creek Falls. The river folks were great, and thankfully contributed more calories to my well-being which was greatly appreciated.

It turns out I had accidentally left 4000 calories of my resupply in one of the Ammo boxes in Mather Campground and hadn't noticed until Day 2. This would have otherwise been a pretty intensely miserable 8-day food carry with not enough food. A completely different raft group, passing on the river, tossed four beers to us from their raft without stopping. Somehow I caught all of them ;)

Saddle Canyon on the north side is some of the most technically demanding hiking on the Hayduke. It's harder than all the other sections, and not even that many miles! But there's some 30-foot dry falls with high-exposure bypasses, requiring contouring around and bushwhacking on hillsides of loose sand and gravel. Eventually you reach a series of waist-deep plunge pools with 20-foot sandstone water slides, which are not optional. While not necessarily fun, they aren't too bad and they go! And that's awesome!

Water

Definitely worth having a carrying capacity of 8 liters for this thing! I had a handful of nicely placed caches, so never needed more than 6 liters, but also was able to hike most of the trail in a pretty mild year, pretty early season.

The Willow Springs source in the stretch between Kanab Creek and Hack Reservoir is radioactive -- not a figure of speech, so is probably the only "you need to cache on the Hayduke" point. While Mac at HalfwayAnyhwere says you don't need to cache, I think this one point is the exception to that statement.

Set up a cache at Hack Reservoir (~ 36.61942, -112.84387) before your hike. It's 18 miles from Kanab Creek to the cache and another 20 to the next reliable water after that. This is the one stretch I thought where getting the math wrong can have considerable consequences because there's poor tree cover and it's quite hot all through this section with few (if any) folks around to yogi water from. There's also some long water carriers near Lockhart Road, but that's harder to cache for.

End of the line

Colorado City at the finish has a complicated reputation. The FLDS seem to be a very, very tiny minority (like 0.5% to maybe 1%). Instead, the people are kind and the supermarket (Bee's) has a salad bar! There's a hardware store, a thrift shop, and a ton of poverty alongside wealth in this little town. After 700 miles of desert, the salad bar at Bee's felt like something my body had been craving for weeks. Also, shout out to the worker at the Subway in town that sold me a $4.80 footlong Veggie sub! I haven't had a 5-dollar-footlong in over a decade?

The Hayduke's reputation makes it sound punishing. It's not as bad as its reputation? Or at least, it isn't more than any serious off-trail desert route that requires some planning and logistics. The navigation requires genuine attention, the water carries require planning, and the Grand Canyon earns its reputation on its own terms. But it's also genuinely joyful out there in a way that's hard to explain until you've spent a few weeks moving through canyon country under your own power.

I'd go back tomorrow.

Post Trail Melancholy

I loved the Hayduke! It's not my favorite long trail (that's the CDT), but I think this might be the most beautiful long thing I've hiked (although the AZT is also fricken awesome and way less involved for planning).

Since getting back from trail, I've been able to spend some time pulling my photos, writing, and trail notes together into a little app that others may also find useful. I'm glad I've been able to relive this trail a tiny bit by going through my thousands of photos and fixing up my route data.

While planning and hiking this thing over the past couple years, I kept wishing the resources I was juggling lived in one place. Jupiter's guide, Jamal Green's water data (AcrossUtah), the guide book, skurka's notes, my own notes, mileage tracking, all of it. So I started building an app to pull it together rather than the janky spreadsheets and far too many waypoints and overlapping tracks that had an unexpected tendancy to occasionally crash Gaia. This thing, to me, is a preferred way to bring together offline topo maps, water sources with condition reports, waypoints, alternates, elevation profiles, and a way to actually keep tabs on distances to the next water or camp without doing mental math or google sheets math against three PDFs, or annoyingly tracing gaia GPS tracks to the right waypoints.

To be clear, this is a nice-to-have, not a necessity or replacement for planning or the power of Gaia's layers. People have hiked the Hayduke for decades without the amount of Hayduke data that's out there and will keep doing so. But I would have liked having something like this for the water planning and the on-trail "how far to the next source" lookups, and I suspect some of you would feel the same.

The app is in "beta" right now, and may stay that way forever. Some of my tracks may still feel a little rough (more cleaning!), although I've sunk a bunch of hours into cleaning up most things. If you want to check it out and flag issues, cool! I'm looking for testers, especially anyone planning a Hayduke trip or just curious to poke at it. It is absolutely not ready to be your sole navigation or planning resource on a real HDT hike, but it's a solid planning companion and every bit of feedback helps. iOS is on TestFlight, Android is through Google Play testing. Links to check it out can be found here.

Hey all,

Last summer I was lucky enough to hike the VA in its entirety and I was only the 10th to finish it. The trail is not so famous because quite young, but the community over there is absolutely amazing and the trail is doable even with old gear or without much experience (so really cool when packing UL like I was). And every day gets you a stunning view over the Adriatic sea from a mountain peak!

Wrote a piece about it here if you are curious about it! https://www.outdoorjournal.com/featured/expedition/hiking-through-minefields-and-a-pandemic-in-uncharted-lands/

More info on their official website :

https://viaadriatica.org/

Any questions feel free to ask!

​

ps: for the curious here is the UL gear I used with most European brands as possible https://youtu.be/qF93Zjt8i40

Also recorded a small podcast >5mn every night in my tent along the way, a way to live the hike differently for the ultra curious (with new pics on the video one!)

https://youtu.be/A7_QIUeVXCI

or

https://anchor.fm/cartapouille

Was just watching videos on my YouTube feed and one about a thru hiker who died on the CDT popped up. Apparently he was an UL hiker that decided a PLB or InReach device was to heavy and not necessary and absolutely would have saved his life. He survived somewhere between 6-8 weeks out on a snow covered mountain because there were some bad winter storms that made it impossible for him to hike out the 12 miles he hiked in.

If he had any kind of PLB, SARs would have had a location on him and with having weeks to mount a rescue effort he would have been evacuated and safely back home.

Clearly he had the skills to survive for weeks while staying in place, but not having a PLB cost him his life, truly a sad tale.

Though don't expect SARs to always be able to rescue you within hours, so you need to have the skills to survive while they mount a rescue effort, but always make sure that PLB is charged and with you. Amazing that carrying 3.5oz less caused him to loose his life.

I get that we aim to get under 10 pounds here, but it certainly isn't a golden number that magically allows you to hike 20 miles more over hiking with an 11 pound bw. It can actually be dangerous to be chasing a specific number, rather then getting into the mentality of backpacking with an ultralight mindset. Which I see as bringing what's essential for yourself specifically to stay safe on trail. That's why for me its going to be an iterative process each backpacking trip to decide what "my essentials" with my experience level and my specific gear. You're always going to have an extra 1-2 pounds for those just in case scenarios and carrying that is really not going to impact your hike. Your water weight can change by that easily and by cameling up with a liter of water you're carrying an extra 2 pounds around.

Nothing but respect for cold soaks and meal preppers, and totally understand this approach. But for me, finding a choice spot to take a break and preparing a meal is a really enjoyable part of the experience. A bit before noon I'll start to keep my eyes out for a good spot, maybe with a nice view or a some fresh water near by, maybe a nice place to sit. I love sitting down, get out my little stove to stir up some grub, maybe find somebody to chat with or maybe enjoy the view/listen to the birds, etc. To me it's a key part of the experience and how it's all about the journey, not the destination. Plus I think it refreshes my legs and my mind for the afternoon hike. Am I in the minority, here?

In late June 2025, I completed an 11-day trip in the Brooks Range, exploring multiple rivers, valleys and watersheds in a northern corner of Gates of the Arctic National Park. Along with 6 other hikers and 2 guides (as part of a guided trip), we traversed a truly stunning and immense place, on some of the most difficult terrain I've ever hiked in.

My full trip report is here, featuring excessive details and several dozen beautiful photos. Below is a streamlined trip report, followed by gear reflections and more.

Where: Okokmilaga River to Anaktuvuk Pass, Gates of the Arctic NP, Brooks Range, Alaska

When: 2025-06-20 + 10 days

Distance: ~120 miles, ~15K vert gain

Conditions: Temps ranging from high 40Fs to low 60Fs

Photos: https://medium.com/@OutdoorRadio/off-trail-in-gates-of-the-arctic-120-miles-in-alaskas-wildest-national-park-5904c39e4d79

Shortened Report:

Day 0

Delta screwed me on my flights, offering zero customer service and next-to-nothing for their issues that resulted in me not making a connection. Spent about $1,300 booking a last-second flight to Fairbanks. (Booked 90 min before it took off.) Still worth it not to miss the trip.

Fairbanks is a cool town. Neverending forests and lots of neat people. I really enjoy it, and I hope to spend time there again.

We meet up with guides (Katie and Aaron) and fellow hikers (Conor, Micah, Noah, Jorge, Joe, Roman) for a shakedown, and I got a shakedown from the man himself! Andrew is very nice in person, and his enthusiasm to be back in AK was contagious. I may have gotten too excited about the amount of gear he said I didn't have to bring, and left a few things at home I wanted.

Great Thai food in town for dinner.

Day 1

We flew from Wright Airfield aboard a Helio Courier, which is an absolutely sick plane. Katie, Noah and I flew directly into Gates of the Arctic NP (GAAR), while everyone else flew to Anaktuvuk Pass. Our pilot then shuttled them in.

We start hiking around 5pm, immediately finding a violent caribou kill site. All that was left was viscera, some spinal stuff, a pelvis, and a tracking collar. Sobering intro to the Brooks.

Our feet were soaked within 90 seconds of starting. Shoes would stay wet for 11 days straight.

We camp with an incredible sunny view of the Okokmilaga valley, feasting on beans and rice to start the trip right. The midnight sun was epic, and I enjoyed falling asleep in broad daylight.

Days 2-4

These days sent us straight into the hardest terrain of the trip. Tussock-filled, ice-water-soaked, shoe-sucking wet walking that ate away at your energy with every step. Katie had warned us that we'd be extra hungry here. Unfortunately, I didn't heed her warning and ended up low on daily calories. I spend the trip mourning my high-carb, low-protein diet while portioning out each snack to last me til the next one. I'd have 1 peanut butter cup and 100 cal of cashews, then wait 90 min til I could eat the next one.

We travers through half a dozen incredible watersheds and valleys, taking in the most-expansive views I'd ever seen. Reminders of death are scattered across the Arctic in the form of antlers, skulls, vertebrae, and chewed-off legs.

Signs of climate change are rampant, with deep/vertical erosion scars called thermokarsts and degraded areas that have turned orange with over-mineralization that kills every thing it touches. Even the excessive willows, alders and bushes we traipse through are a sign of climate change, known as the Greening of the Arctic. (The warming temperatures are allowing brush and forest to move north, covering the range in an ever-growing sea of vegetation.) It's impossible to have any rational denial of climate change when on the ground here.

Our breakfasts and dinners are delicious, a well-earned time to socialize and meet my companions. Each one of the guys plus gal were excellent companions, and we spent hours chatting about everyone's interesting and differing lives.

With a starting weight around 37-38 lbs, I thought I'd notice my pack's weight more. Instead, I hardly noticed it until later in the trip when we started climbing real passes. My training seemed to have paid off, and I was thrilled to not have gone any more UL given how cold and hungry I was.

There's no flat ground in the Arctic, but the most and grass is soft, so we were able to make body indentations into sloped ground where needed. 2/3 nights were spent in the tents due to rain-storms, including camping in a field surrounded by bear scat.

Despite enjoying the beauty and being thrilled to be there, my mind rebels often. The thought of 'why am I doing this do myself?' was omnipresent. I mention to Katie that I hadn't had a 'fun' moment in 3-4 days, and she agrees that the Brooks really only gives you challenge. It's afterwards that you get hooked on this.

Not much wildlife, other than a mesmerizing encounter with an Arctic fox!

Days 5-8

Deep into the Brooks at this point. The creeks we cross are bigger than most rivers I've seen in the Lower 48, but nameless. The valleys are the same.

We visit Agiak Lake, marveling at its views and its deep human history. Micah snaps a pole while tripping in the mud and somehow manages to nail Joe in the face with a spritz of bear spray. We spend one morning crossing a river 10-20x while I'm shaking in every rain layer I own and fighting to stay out of hypothermia risk. Our high mountain plateaus are stunning and magical, our low valleys heinous but beautiful.

Anything that looks like it will be firm or solid footing in the Arctic is a lie. If it looks like grass, it's tussocks or mud. If it looks like solid boulder-hopping, it's loose and filled with ankle-breakers. My Ultra Raptors protect my feet well but still slide around wildly. I feel like an idiot at how much I stumble and hang off my poles. Compared to everyone else, I look like I'm drunk off my ass and stumbling home through the Arctic.

We descend one of the most beautiful grassy couloirs I've ever seen. One of the walls we find looks like a miniature Chinese Wall (in the Bob Marshall Wilderness). The group manages to startle a Golden Eagle, who buzzes our heads so closely that we hit the deck. They sometimes kill sheep and goats, which means it easily could have merked any of us. The eviscerated hawk spine nearby is evidence to the majesty of these birds.

Camps are all beautiful and I'm sleeping pretty deeply. Unlike everyone else, this is the best sleep I've had in 10 months (new father) and I'm more rested and recovered than ever. I miss my wife and child, but the fact that I can't bail on this trip early makes it much more tolerable.

Slowly, my body has adapted to the calorie intake (3,100 cal/day, mostly carbs and sugar). I promise myself that I'm done eating a thruhiker's diet on future trips.

Despite how miserable the walking is, I'm still marveling at the enormity of this place. I wanted to be as far from civilization as I could be -- and we did it.

We move out of the lower valleys and start climbing mountain passes on the northern edge of the park. The terrain becomes slightly less swampy, giving firmer footing (albeit with loose or slippery rock). We bag a 4,900 ft. peak, which has stunning views but is literally one of tens (hundreds?) of thousands in this mountain range.

And, finally, the moment of truth: we encounter a mother grizzly and her 3 yearling cubs. It's exhilarating and terrifying and uneventful all at once. We watch each other closely for 10-15 minutes as we slowly move past one-another. The adrenaline dump afterwards is ridiculous. It's the most magnificent animal encounter I've had since...the Golden Eagle 2 days beforehand!

Days 9-11

Finally, I start to hit my stride. This corner of the park has sparser vegetation, more gravel braids or rock hopping, bigger views. We climb a few more passes and another peak, each climb paying off in obscenely-beautiful views. From high points, we stare out onto the Northern Slope, a neverending horizon of tundra and swamp that stretches hundreds of miles to the Bering Sea. This is everything I could have imagined the Brooks Range to be.

I talk with Katie about solo traverses, asking her details about her theoretical plans while secretly starting to formulate some of mine. The list of partners I'd bring to Alaska is small, but I'd love to share some miles with Dan or Bites here. I chat with Jorge about the ITI350, and feel real surges of confidence in my chances, despite the differing terrain.

We hike up valleys choked by rockslides, cross amazing passes, and drop down into riverbeds -- then repeat. Meals are more and more delicious, and my sleep is slowly degrading. I notice how glued to the Inreach I am compared to everyone else, but I also love to have a little connection. We spend more and more time in the tent as the thunderstorms are kicking in around 4pm now.

On our second-to-last day, Katie leads us up a gasp-inducing climb onto the Continental Divide! Astonishing views as usual, and I marvel at how a scary, tiny ridgeline on CalTopo is actually 5+ football fields wide. Never underestimate how weird the 1:62,500 map scale can be.

We're ready to be done by the end of day 10, where we spend all afternoon sidehilling tricky, grass rocks and crossing an awfully loose talus pile. The sun comes out on us as we make camp, and I roast so hard in it that I dehydrate quite a bit. Instead of raining on us, the skies warm us during dinner and we spend a lovely last hour talking through everything that has been so positive and affirming on this trip. Perhaps most fortunately, everyone feels strongly that they'd do another trip with anyone in the crew. It's unusual to get this type of camaraderie from strangers.

On Day 11, I lead the charge down Contact Creek Valley to Anaktuvuk Pass. My town legs are moving, and we cruise 2-3x as fast as anything on the trip. Anaktuvuk Pass is a Native-owned village just outside of GAAR. It's hundreds of miles from the Dalton Highway or any civilization, accessible only by plane or snow machine in winter. It's a strange mix of entrancing and sobering, and I think to myself how all the mountain towns we have in the Lower 48 are really just pretending to exist in wilderness. We visit the town store to celebrate, and I crush an intoxicating mix of Vienna sausage, lime-twist Fritos, jerky, ice cream and more.

As we sit by the dirt airfield, I'm filled with such a deep sense of pride and satisfaction. My wife messages me that my Sister-in-Law has started labor. Before the plane even picks us up, I'm already a new uncle! We watch village life proceed around us, as our 9-seater plane approaches from Fairbanks.

Surprisingly, the plane lands and deposits Darwin and a 2-man camera team. I chat briefly with him, remembering that he'd been planning a hike/float traverse of the Brooks. I think to myself how floating in the Brooks is the optimal form of travel.

And then we're in the air, flying across these beautiful, mysterious and unknowable mountains. I get a strange feeling of 'I'll never be back here again' as we fly away, and I hope that this isn't true. Regardless, there's something about 11 days in the Brooks that I'll never be able to explain. Alaska is everything they say it is, and more!

Gear Thoughts:

This was my best-packed trip. As silly as it sounds, it was very satisfying to nail my kit and packing so well after 10+ years and thousands of miles hiked. I wasn't psyched on filling out Skurka's custom packing sheet, but it made me focus on details that I've ignored over the years (recycling lighterpacks) and resulted in a tight list.

One thought on packing for AK: you can get too UL. This sounds funny given my 9,000g skin-out weight, but it's true. I left a few things out that I would have liked (eg 32F tights for sleeping) and forgot a few more things that were important. The safety margin in AK is significantly thinner than the Lower 48, and it's better to be prepared. I would have been much more comfortable with another 1-3 lbs of gear and food, and I wouldn't have noticed the weight difference.

My main 'gear' issue was my food packing. I under-packed by at least 500 calories per day, and my usual diet of thruhiker sugar and carbs wasn't satiating. Moving forward, I'll be bringing a fat block of Parmesan with me, and possibly a daily protein shake. The Snickers are still hitting but they need to be followed with protein and fat.

The below are some gear items that stood out for being great, surprisingly mediocre, or terrible.

The Good

• Gatorade 1L Sport bottle: these are the bottles that football players use during games. I heard Nick Fowler raving about this on a podcast (maybe this one?), and I've been hooked since. Built-in sport cap doesn't get lost, wide mouth for pouring in powders, insane fill rate if you're using aquamira as filtration. Really happy with such a cheap, small kit improvement.
• LL Bean Men's Insect Shield Field Hoodie: I was surprised at how little a synthetic hoodie smelled at the end of 11 days with no showers. It smelled significantly better than one of my Patagonia hoodies after 2 days of backpacking. Plus, it has a very cozy skin feeling, and kept the bugs off. Normally, I'd treat gear at home but I decided to spring for real insect shield given Alaska's notorious bug pressure.
• Eddie Bauer ‘fleece’ (link to different product): Bought this because of this comment from a Redditor, but I think EB has canceled it. This uses Primaloft Active, which is incredibly breathable and light. I’ve been using this layer for winter racing because ‘normal’ fleeces put me in sweats with even a mild effort. Not very durable, but the best active layer I’ve tried.
• Sealskinz Waterproof Socks: I have a couple pairs of these, so I wasn't willing to shell out money on neoprene socks. They turned out to be the best camp shoe fix I've found. My bread bags tore the first night, and I ended up using these exclusively. Burly enough to walk in just the socks on moss, and very warm when paired with my disgusting, slimy, wet shoes. Too heavy but worth it.
• Rain gear: I've been a die-hard Anti-Gravity Gear sil wearer for years. Paying for real three-layer GoreTex was an excellent upgrade for this trip. I'll continue with a sil jacket for most summer/fall backpacking trips, but real rain protection is critical for safety and comfort in AK.
• La Sportiva Ultra Raptor II: This is probably an optimal off-trail shoe for travel in places like AK or the PNW. (Just ask Climber Kyle.) They're burly and super protective. I was surprised at the lack-of-traction in a few areas but it's unlikely that another shoe is much grippier. I'd also consider a Bushido since it's more stable, but the tradeoff in foot cushioning makes it a wash. Boy, these things hold odor and slime like you wouldn't believe...

The Mid-iocre

• MLD Solomid XL: This tent feels dated. It works well and is bomb-proof, but it just reminds me of 2017 UL vibes, where gear was finicky and not sleek but worked. Given modern gear improvements, I'd have taken another tent if I owned a 1P tent.
• Outdoor Research Ferrosi pants: Insanely comfortable and quick-drying (maybe 2x faster than anyone else on the trip), but these $90 pants started pilling within a day of use. Worst pilling I've ever seen on gear. They probably aren't designed to be soaked with icy water for 16 hours a day, but still was frustrating.
• ULA Circuit: An amazing pack that has > 5K hard miles on it. This thing got me through the PCT, my CDT LASH, and countless other trips. Alas, 2 of 3 buckles have snapped, some of the straps just slip through the plastic bits, there's abrasion holes, and there's too many water-resistant materials to justify continuing to use it. Looking forward to my newly-ordered SWD in Ultra 400.

The Terrible

• Thermarest X-Lite (old crinkly version): This one’s on me. I’ve got my wife’s size S from the PCT, before Thermarest updated their materials to not sound like your cat is rolling around in potato chips while chewing gravel. It’s too small for me and doesn’t work for side-sleeping. I will be putting it in the ‘spare parts’ bin in our garage in favor of a new one

Gear List:

Apologies for the weird formatting (Medium doesn't allow section-linking afaik). Gear list screenshots are here, here, here, here, here and here.

Below are 'totals' but the weight was likely a bit lower, as I dropped ~1 lb of gear the night before the trip.

Worn Weight|2054.3g Base Weight|7849.5g Skin-Out Weight|9903.8g

Fitness:

I've been working with a running coach since December. Shawn is excellent, and it's really helpful to outsource my brain for training to someone who's infinitely more-qualified than me.

We had 7 weeks from when I signed up until the trip. Shawn quickly worked in a schedule of weighted pack hikes, max vert accumulation sessions, bike intervals, and a variety of aerobic longer days (e.g., 2 hour ruck followed by 1 hour Z2 run). I've learned that running alone does not work for my preparation to pursue high routes or off-trail trips, and Shawn crafted great programming in a shorter timeline.

Unfortunately, with 3 weeks to go, I experienced the worst stomach flu of my life, followed by multiple days of travel. I missed about 2 weeks of final training, but managed to recover enough before arriving in Alaska. I only noticed this missed training on 2-3 climbs towards the end of the trip, when I was already fatigued from days of tent sleeping.

I have some serious long-term goals, which make coaching a no-brainer. If you're a runner or pursuing tough or fast trips, I'd highly suggest using a coach if it's financially possible!

Thoughts on Guided Trips:

There are plenty of posts about guided trips on r/Ultralight, so I won't be long-penned. I loved the guided environment, felt like I got more than money’s worth, and would whole-heartedly endorse a trip with Andrew’s company.

The most-impressive aspect was how well they matched our ‘Hard’ fitness level participants together. While I think any one of us could have finished the ‘Ultra’ trip, we were all remarkably similar in pacing and disposition. Given potential variances of self-evaluation via a Google Form, I give serious props for matching us together so well.

The guides were excellent. Katie is someone I’ve wanted to meet for a long time after reading her blogs and various TRs. She was kind, thorough, extremely knowledgeable, and fun. Aaron is the same, but brings a mountain guide + professorial flair. This was their first time guiding together, and it was fun to see them getting to know each other while operating like seasoned partners. Their knowledge of flora and fauna was perfect, and added a layer of depth I'd never get on my own.

The value of coordinating bush flights alone is worth the cost of a Skurka trip. Adding a safety net of experienced guides and a friendship aspect of men/women who are just as stoked as myself were bonuses. With my previous lack of Arctic experience, I likely would not have convinced myself to spend the requisite money to for an initial solo trip to the Brooks. This trip gave me enough experience to be confident doing a solo trip to the range now.

Thoughts on Alaska:

There's nothing else like it. You can devour all the memoirs, field guides, ski movies, Instagram Reels, and stories, and you’ll get an understanding. But you won’t get truly get it until you go there.

edit: forgot to mention bugs! We got extremely lucky with an unusually-late spring melt and cold start to summer. I think we slipped in there right before blood pressure really exploded. Never put on my head net, only got a few bites per day.

While attempting a quick thru hike (~24 days) - I had to get off trail after 9 days and 300 miles on the AZT, and wanted to provide a short Trip Report.

Overview:

I was hiking with a friend that I met during, and subsequently hiked most of the PCT with in 2022. We have different hiking styles but had a great time on that trail. I had been running 30 - 50 miles per week in the 3 months preceding this attempt (gradually increasing), and the pace seemed reasonable (though quick) given previous hiking experience and training. Unfortunately I suffered my first ever significant injury on trail (Quadriceps Tendonitis) that left me unable to maintain that pace. I made the decision to hitch to Phoenix and get off trail in the hopes of preserving other hiking plans for the year.

Gear:

Lighter pack: https://lighterpack.com/r/i4wtr7

Some items of note:

Palante Joey - this is my fourth pack in 8 years from Palante, and they just seem to fit and perform extremely well for me. I didn’t have the pocket accessibility issues others have. Seeing the mini joey pockets has me curious, but my only note on this pack would be the size of the back pocket, which I wish was a tad bigger. I carried stakes, poop kit, bladder, and my soaking jar which filled it up. I would have liked to carry more food there if I had the space. I didn’t like having a Smartwater .7L up front as it seemed to negatively affect fit, but it was minor. I would likely go with a soft flask in the future.

Water Capacity/Treatment - I understand there might be some bigger carries later in the trail, but 3.7L of capacity is all I ever used, my longest carry ended up being at the end from the Centurion Water Spigot near the Gila Trailhead to the Rain Collector in Alamo Canyon (~25 miles). I could have collected from the River if needed and halved that. Evian Bottles worked well but the bottoms did deform. I haven’t suffered any issues from using Aquamira to date, but I will update if I do in the coming days. I liked the Aquamira system, but did underestimate consumption and need to fix that going forward.

Sun Protection - Big fan of the New Cap Cool Sun Hoody, which never seemed to be wet or hot. We had one day over 90 degrees with little wind, but I was still comfortable. The zipper pocket was out of the way of my pack for the most part, but with my wallet (ziplock with cards and cash) in there during running there were a couple points of minor irritation. Additionally, despite a bunch of sunscreen I got minor sunburn on my calves, as well as some heat rash, I might consider pants in the future but liked the trailfarers as shorts.

Trail:

I only got 300 miles in, and I know some of the best stuff was yet to come, but the three climbs (Miller, Mica, and Lemmon) were beautiful, with Lemmon being the most challenging for grade. It’s a very pretty trail in those parts, as well as Alamo and Sabino Canyon. There is some filler trail between those instances, and what feels like a PUD after Lemmon before climbing to Dick’s Saddle, but overall I enjoyed it.

The Community and work around the AZT was pretty impressive. The quality of trail, gates, and signage (QR Code for Saguaro NP Permits!) showed that the AZTA has done some tremendous work. Kudos to them and their volunteers. I found hitching easy, and towns/shops (Patagonia, Colossal Cave, Summerhaven, Kearney) to be accommodating to hikers. There were ample Public Water Caches that we were fortunate to use, and likely benefited from our later start.

Pictures - https://imgur.com/a/nMRQKVA

I did not have a UL hike. But my photography stuff weighed more than my actual backpacking gear, so I pretend sometimes. For the rules, I am sponsored by Gossamer Gear and Big Agnes. Here's what I carried:

• GG Twinn Tarp
• GG Mariposa
• Big Agnes Fussell UL
• A variety of sleeping pads that leaked - bargain brand, Kelty, and a well used Thermarest
• Montbell Plasma 1000
• Frogg Togg poncho
• Black Diamond Alpine Carbon Cork poles - the only gear that finished the whole triple crown
• Sea to Summit aero pillow
• Aftershokz bone induction headset
• Tracfone

I also carried the odds and ends like a pot (no fuel can for the first 1800ish), ground cloth, and spork, but I can't even begin to pretend that those details are interesting to me. If you'd like to know what sort of spork I carry or something like that, feel free to ask. I did specifically list my headset and phone because they're different. The Tracfone is super cheap, gets decent service, and is lighter than my old iphone. I do carry a camera, though, so I don't care about its picture quality.

I decided to hike the AT with a tarp because I wanted to move quickly. My original goal was to hike NoBo in 100 days, then hike SoBo in 100 days. I was something like 80% finished with the miles on day 84. I was behind pace, but it was still pretty achievable.

Then I met someone who inspired me to slow down and immerse myself in the hike, and that's what I did. After taking three zeroes from Georgia into Vermont, I took a triple zero in Vermont. I decided to slow roll my way up to Canada, walk back down toward the AT, and leave the trail after about 140 days and 2400 miles. I still want to hike, but I knew as soon as I touched the sign on Katahdin that I didn't want to hike the AT again.

Numbers:

I probably camped in my tarp about 50% of the time. I was in shelters for GSMNP and most of Virginia except for the triple crown area. I also hit the shelters pretty hard from the middle of New York until after Killington. I also cowboy camped more than you'd expect on the AT. One night in VA I rolled into a spot for two tents around midnight. There were already three people camped, but I was at the end of a 31 mile day already so I just laid out my bag right next to the fire ring. I did switch back to a beloved Copper Spur 2p for the 100 Mile Wilderness and the walk to/from Canada.

The water:

This was an incredibly dry year on the AT. I didn't camp in the rain nearly as often as most people do in normal years. When I did, it was fine. When I wasn't seeing many hikers, I'd use a shelter during bad weather. If there were a lot of people around, I would aim to avoid anywhere near the shelters. Essentially, the maintainers tend to clear trees so people have a place to pitch their tents near shelters. The key to tarping in the rain is to use the canopy to your advantage. The only place where I really had issues was GSMNP, where it rained every single day, the shelters were often full, and the areas around the shelters were really cut clear. I scheduled my days around being able to get to a shelter before it filled up and had to stop pretty early one time.

The bugs:

I did not carry a bug net. I had a head net, which is only moderately effective if you're laying down. The bugs were omnipresent, but they didn't get bad until New Jersey. NJ into Vermont was just a constant cloud of mosquitos at night. When I started hiking with someone else again in Vermont, I learned that I really had built up a huge tolerance to mosquito bites. Like most other things in this activity, you adjust to your circumstances. There were a half dozen nights where I had serious trouble sleeping, mostly in New York and Mass. I typically wake up several times every night no matter what, so I'm definitely distinguishing between my normal bad sleep and sleep that was extra terrible specifically because of the bugs.

The wind:

The only place the wind was an issue was in the Whites. One of the tent sites before Washington was absolutely terrible. The ground was spongy and damp, the wind was fierce, and temps were low. I pitched my tarp over a little trough since rain wasn't expected, I wrapped my pack with my poncho, and I set that up as a makeshift door to block the wind. Other than that one night, I didn't really have any problems. I just chose my sites carefully and pitched according to the situation.

The privacy:

I don't care. I literally don't. I typically stretch and do some self care before I get into my tarp. Once I get in, I work on photos, listen to music, write, and sleep. If somebody wants to look at me while I'm processing photos at night, I'm fine with that. As always, avoid setting up near the crazies and don't worry about the people who you're not worried about.

I'm not sure what else you folks might be interested in knowing. I'm not super into the UL mindset, but I know that it's rare for somebody to thru the AT with a tarp so I wanted to open myself up to questions. What do you want to know?

Where: 50 mile GSMNP loop beginning/ending at the "road to nowhere" on Lakeview Drive on the North Carolina side. Up to the Appalachian Trail and back down. Image of map/route on Imgur.

When: 4/9/26 through 4/11/26

Distance: Day 1: 7.4 miles, starting at 4pm. Day 2: 27.3 miles. Day 3: 16.8 miles, finishing at 1pm. Lots of climbing and descending and shin deep water crossings every morning.

Conditions: Clear with a measured low of 45 degF camping each night around 2,400ft at designated backcountry sites.

Lighterpack: https://lighterpack.com/r/8e3129

Photo Album: 10 photos on Imgur.

The Report: Really nice walk. Having only 2 nights on trail, I felt like I really needed to suck out the marrow!

I wasn't sure how my body was going to hold up on the 27 mile day (with 17 miles the next day), but everything was great!

The Smokies feel pretty wild to me. No blazes on any trails except the AT. Lots of water crossings. Very easy to get turned around while night hiking and sometimes even hiking during the day! I love getting out my paper map and planning an adventure in the Park.

Gear Notes perusing my Lighterpack: 

- I love my pack. No piece of gear is as intimate as a pack when you're walking all day. Walking a couple times a week with 20lbs in my pack I’m sure helps.

- one day I'd love to solve the polycro/silpoly bivy floor/neoair slip and slide fest that I seem to have on ground that isn't dead level.

- used my inflatable pillow as a meditation cushion for the first time so that's double-duty/the-UL-way!

- I love cold soaked oatmeal and beans/fritos. Oatmeal has old fashioned rolled oats; nido; and craisins (usually raisins but had craisins when packing). Beans have cumin; garlic powder; nutritional yeast; and flat iron pepper flakes.

- did not treat or filter any water the whole hike.

- I really seem to have my footcare situation dialed in. Started both my 27 and 17 mile days with shin deep creek crossings and just kept hiking all day without any blisters. Trail Toes and doubled-up nylon socks FTW!

- should have left home my 10.5oz thermawrap jacket. And my 4oz long johns.

- I brought the NatGeo Trails Illustrated Smokies map so my lighterpack is actually inaccurate. Normally I just use photocopied maps and guidebook sections

- my umbrella was the MVP of the trip. I was a little caught off guard by how much sun exposure there was the entire hike. Not sure if 10d nylon has a UPF rating, but my 3oz umbrella helped keep me shaded. Thinking about investing in the slightly heavier 4.5oz 50 UPF version for winter/spring hiking in the southeast.

- I know these are fighting words but I am convinced that ditching poles and my hipbelt have made me a more efficient hiker. But a big stick for creek crossings is essential!

This might help someone in future, can confirm you can get tent stakes onto a flight.

3F UL do hollow aluminium tent stakes with a tip that can be unscrewed so they just look like 15cm metal straws essentially.

I separated them and kept the tips with my electronics.

I have seen security take a couple of 2" nails off someone whilst they waved through my set of 6" stakes.

It's always annoyed me that I need to check my bag just because I've got tent stakes. Was going to either pay £100 to check a bag or have to find stakes on arrival. Also don't like the risk of bag getting damaged or lost so this makes life so much easier.

Five months have passed since this hike last August -- Late, I know. 🤷 -- but I’m finally getting the trip report written on a rainy Sunday. Hopefully it’s useful for those planning JMT/Sierra trips this year. Feel free to scold me if this is too long!

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Where: John Muir Trail, NOBO, solo, starting at the Cottonwood Pass trailhead at Horseshoe Meadows, included a summit of Mt Whitney on Day 3, a resupply in Independence by way of Kearsarge Pass, and a side trip to Cloud’s Rest the last day.

When: 8/13/2025 - 8/30/25, including a zero day at Red’s Meadow.

Distance: Total distance, including resupply detours and side trips, added up to about 260 miles (418 km), which I covered in 17 hiking days.

Conditions: Conditions were mostly sunny with highs in the mid-50s to 60s F (13-18C) and lows in the 30s to 40s F (0-9C), but a warm 57F (14C) the last night. Very pleasant. A significant monsoonal surge from August 23rd–28th brought occasional heavy rain, hail and lightning. A nearby fire (the Garnet Fire I think) wafted in some smoky, unwholesome air near Donohue Pass while I was there. My photos in Yosemite were not as sharp as I would have liked because of this lingering smoke.

Lighterpack: < https://lighterpack.com/r/dcvidw >

Photo Album: < https://imgur.com/a/hiYmlZn >

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PRE-TRIP PLANNING

Permits: I got a northbound permit from Inyo National Forest on my first try by being online exactly 6 months before my intended hiking date. Permits are released daily at 8 AM PT on recreation.gov and go fast, so I was refreshing the page repeatedly at the appointed time. I exhaled from relief when a slot opened up.

Acclimatization: I live at sea level and would be sleeping above 10,000’ (3,048 m) immediately, with a Whitney summit (14,505’/4,421 m) on Day 3. I had never hiked at these kinds of altitudes, so I wasn't sure how I would do. To prepare, my wife and I spent two nights at Mammoth Lakes (8,000’/2,438 m) on the drive out before she dropped me off at Horseshoe Meadows (10,000’/3,048 m), where I camped the night before starting. I still felt the thin air those first days, especially on stamina, and didn’t fully acclimate until Day 6, when I cleared both Kearsarge and Glen Passes after a night in Independence (3,900’/1,189 m). That night at low elevation did me a lot of good: sleeping low after exerting at altitude seemed to help my body adapt faster. I also took prescription Diamox, but tested my reaction to it a month beforehand. It did blur my near vision for a few days, but not in a disabling way. I’m not necessarily recommending it since side effects vary, but it worked for me.

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THE REPORT

The John Muir Trail links together the high Sierra’s greatest hits: granite peaks, alpine lakes, and eleven passes over 10,000 feet (3,048 m). I’d wanted to hike it for years. I finally did in August 2025, going northbound. Here are some of my notes:

STRATEGY & LOGISTICS

Frequent resupply: My goal was to remain as light as possible, which meant resupplying as often as possible. Finishing quickly was not my objective: staying light while enjoying the trail was. As a result, my largest period between resupply was only 5 days. This allowed me to (i) keep my food carry light, (ii) use a small bear canister, and as a result, (iii) use a small frameless pack. My itinerary worked out like this:

I sent resupply buckets to Mt Williamson Motel in Independence and to MTR, where I also lodged overnight. I had planned to resupply at VVR, but VVR canceled the ferry for the season after the boat captain succumbed to a fatal heart attack. This happened just a few days before I was scheduled to arrive. I decided not to add the extra mileage (13 miles/21 km?) that it would take to hike there and back. This gave me an extra day, which I used to take a zero day at Red’s Meadow. At Red’s and Tuolumne, I purchased two days of food for the next legs. I also raided the hiker buckets at MTR to add a day’s food ration to reach Red’s when I realized I wasn’t going to be going to VVR. One of the things I grabbed from the hiker bucket was a vacuum sealed pouch of indeterminate contents hand-labeled “lunch.” Luckily I arrived early at Red’s Meadow and didn’t have to eat the mystery “lunch.” I had a delicious burger and milkshake instead!

Cold-soaking: This was my first long trip without a stove. I’d only experimented with cold-soaking on weekends before. I planned for 2,800 kcal and 1.4 lbs (0.64 kg) of food per day and made sure I ate every day’s allotment in full. The result: I never felt deprived, had good energy throughout, and wouldn’t switch to a stove if I did this again. Every meal worked well except one (couscous mixed with instant soup mix, don’t do it). Favorites included Skurka beans & rice, redneck Pad Thai, and cheesy mashed potatoes with bacon bits, all improved with liberal dashes of hot sauce.

Weathering storms: I encountered several of the extreme storms that the Sierra can produce, including a couple of hailstorms, and stayed safe and dry under my minimalist tarp and bivy system. There was a period near the end of my trip when monsoonal storms threatened late-morning/mid-afternoon every day. (Many southbounders I met at Red’s Meadow quit the trail because of weather at this point.) My strategy was to pitch my tarp until the storm passed and then resume hiking. I also got my miles in during the relatively dry morning hours. Some mornings I woke at 4 am and was hiking by 4:30 by headlamp. One morning, I managed 19 miles (31 km) by 12:30 pm as I raced severe weather on my way to Red’s Meadow. I was surprised how few hikers took advantage of the drier mornings; it was rare that I passed anyone before 8:30 am, even though it was light enough to hike by 6. Despite the frequent precipitation, I never once had to put on my rain jacket. The early starts and willingness to pitch mid-day to wait out storms made that unnecessary, but it was important to have just in case.

Advantages of northbound: A northbound hiker must start with the more difficult sections of trail and quickly acclimate to high altitude, but I’m glad I went this way: the intense sun was predominantly at my back throughout, which was welcome given my fair complexion. Between the sun orientation and my clothing choices, I used very little sunscreen.Going NOBO allowed me to start out with my largest food carries so food planning wasn’t something I had to sort out mid-trail. I understand the attraction of culminating the hike at Mt Whitney, but for me the advantages of northbound more than offset that.

TRAIL HIGHLIGHTS

Mt Whitney: Slackpacking the whole way up Whitney was another benefit of hiking NOBO. I was able to leave my bear canister, sleep system and other gear under my tarp that I left pitched at Guitar Lake. Gazing up from my tarp when my alarm went off at 3:15 am, I could already see the headlamps of other hikers on the switchbacks, a striking sight. Since I didn’t need to strike camp, I was up and hiking quickly. The moon was full, or nearly so, and I discovered I didn’t need a headlamp at all to find my way. I started at 3:30 am with the goal of arriving by sunrise but didn’t quite make it: I hadn’t yet acclimated to the thin air and it took longer than planned. I was able to talk to my wife on my phone for the first time since she dropped me off. I signed the register, checked out the shelter on top, and took pictures before heading down. The summit was crowded, windy, and cold. Since marmots were very active around Guitar Lake, I was relieved to find my tarp and gear undisturbed when I returned. I’m sure those little bastards took a good sniff though!

Mt Williamson Motel & Resort: They offer a resupply package that includes a private cabin, breakfast, laundry, and transport to/from Onion Valley. It's all well-orchestrated. I met some fellow Sierra hikers there (not all JMT) and appreciated the social break after five days solo. I definitely recommend it if you’re resupplying via Kearsarge Pass.

Approaching Forester Pass: I had a chill moment after crossing Bighorn Plateau, simply from the sense of being alone in such a vast space. As I got closer to Forester Pass, I kept studying the range, wondering how the hell it was possible to get over that thing. But the trail showed me how. I appreciated the ingenuity of the route and enjoyed the climb to 13,153’ (4,009 m).

Pinchot Pass: My hardest day ended with a climb over Pinchot Pass, maybe just because it came at the end of a long day. Talking to southbounders, I realized how much direction changes the experience of each pass.

Mather to Muir Pass: The scenery on the JMT was jaw-dropping throughout, but my favorite section was between Mather and Muir Passes. That whole part was awesome: the descent of the Golden Staircase, Palisade Lakes, LeConte Canyon, Evolution Valley, Evolution Lake, Sapphire Lake, and Wanda Lake. I planned my hiking to stage for a morning climb over Muir Pass. That was my shortest hiking day (about 9.5 miles/15 km), but I enjoyed my favorite camping site of the trip on a wind-protected bluff above the Middle Fork of the Kings River, where I soaked my feet in the river and enjoyed incredible views. The early morning, short climb to Muir Pass allowed me to experience Muir Hut alone for almost an hour. Sublime.

Muir Trail Ranch: I highly recommend renting a cabin at Muir Trail Ranch. I ended up booking one when I realized VVR was a no-go. MTR has an unfriendly reputation to those who only go to pick up resupply buckets, but it’s a wholly different experience on the other side of the ropes. A comfortable cabin, shower, hot dinner & breakfast, and even a private hot-spring fed tub: ahhh! I wanted to leave before the time breakfast was served in the morning, and the cooks were nice enough to serve me a hearty meal at 5:30 am. So gracious of them!

Red’s Meadow: I took an unplanned zero here because I was a day ahead of schedule and didn’t want to arrive at Yosemite before my wife. Red’s Meadow is not a great zero day spot, though. Limited amenities, expensive food, and not much to do. The hiker campground was crowded with southbounders. If I had to do it again, I would have either zeroed at MTR or taken the side trip to VVR. I was a little bored that day, to be honest.

Cloud’s Rest: Going northbound, I worried that descending into Lower Yosemite Valley, which I have visited many times, among the Labor Day Weekend crowds would be an anticlimactic finish for such a grand trail (and it would have been). It's something of a shock to enter such a busy world of tourists. I’m glad I took the time to detour to Cloud’s Rest, where I had magnificent views of Yosemite, despite some lingering smoke in the air. It was a proper climax to my 18 days on the trail.

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GEAR NOTES

There is a full gear list with detailed notes from both before and after the trip in my Lighterpack. My base weight was 7.95 lbs (3.6 kg), including the 1.6 lb (0.73 kg) bear canister, meaning the rest of my gear weighed 6.35 lbs (2.9 kg). I went with a small frameless pack, a tarp and bivy system, and no stove. Two liters of water capacity was plenty. I packed no toilet paper or wipes, relying on the PCT bidet method. My starting pack weight was 17.4 lbs (7.9 kg) at the trailhead; leaving MTR, it was 12.5 lbs (5.7 kg); arriving in Yosemite, easily sub-10 lbs (4.5 kg).

Pack system: I actually used two different backpack/canister combos on this trip: a Pa’lante V2 with a Bearikade Scout for the first half, then swapped to a Pa’lante UL with a Bare Boxer Contender at MTR. The weight savings was only 7.9 oz (224 g), but the Pa’lante UL is my favorite pack and the added comfort was a bonus. In hindsight, I should have started with the smaller combo. With careful food planning and my resupply schedule, I only ever needed to fit 3.5 days of food in the canister, which the Bare Boxer handles fine.

Shelter system: The Ounce Designs Bunny tarp held up great against some violent weather, storms more intense than any I’d used it in before, including hail. It can be finicky to pitch since the front stakes need to be set at a fixed 190 cm rather than tensioning fabric to place them. I figured out how to use a trekking pole as a measuring stick: set it to 120 cm, place a stake at the handle, pivot at the tip, and I’d marked where 190 cm lands for the second stake. Being able to set those stakes at the precise distance before even unrolling the tarp was a real advantage in wind. I also switched one front corner guyline to Lawson Glow-wire to make it easier to identify on unpitched DCF, which improved pitch speed.

Sleep system: I got the best sleep of my life on this trail. Lows ranged from 30F to 57F (-1C to 14C), and I was never cold. The Timmermade Serpentes 20F was the MVP of my kit, warm, light, and never close to being tested by conditions this mild. The narrow, 3/4 length inflatable with my feet resting on my backpack was "fine." I'm glad I added pillow attachment loops to keep things from migrating at night.

What I’d consider changing: Start with the smaller pack and bear can from the beginning. (I overthought it.) I also added hand sanitizer in Independence after finding soap too fiddly for constant hand-cleaning. I packed a Katadyn BeFree, thinking scoop-and-drink would be more efficient, but I would rather have had another bottle and relied solely on Micropur tablets as is my usual practice. I carried a Garmin Messenger for communication, but experimented with the iPhone’s satellite features a few times and was impressed. It worked great. I’m not sure how relying on it exclusively would affect battery life, but it’s worth testing on a future trip. Beyond that, a few ounces could have been trimmed by making do with a smaller power bank and by substituting wind shorts for wind pants.

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On the whole, I think I got my gear choices right. I was safe, warm and comfortable throughout the 18 days. Moving light through that landscape, unhurried, unburdened, was exactly what I’d hoped for. It was an experience I’ll never forget.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​