National Backpackers Day

Commemorative. You know, my hobby sure has a lot of days to celebrate. There's National Trails Day, National Parks Week, The National Park System Birthday, National Public Lands Day, and National Backpacker's Day. Am I missing any? Probably. Why should we celebrate days that are dedicated to the outdoors? If you're reading this blog you already know my answer, but to refresh your memory we should celebrate the outdoors because being outside is healthy; it is good for our mental and physical wellbeing; the outdoors provide so many opportunites for recreation including hiking, biking, boating, paddling, hunting, and fishing; and the outdoors brings everybody together in ways that an office party can't, nevermind the cultural and historical significance preserved in the outdoors and the fact that we need resources from outside to survive. Today we are celebrating something a little more exclusive, something relatively few people compared to the general population have ever wet their toes in. Today, we celebrate backpacking, and the kickass people who do it.

Why would anybody want to strap their entire life to their back and walk a bunch of miles? Every single person has a different reason for backpacking, and I can't speak for them, but I can tell you my reasons for backpacking with the hope that maybe you'll find a reason to backpack at least once and try it out yourself. I backpack because the world isn't contained along the sides of a highway, and to really see I need to get out on a trail and explore. I backpack to find solitude or companionship, depending on if I take someone with me or fly solo. I backpack to test myself, to push past my limits that end up being mostly mental though I have found a few physical limits as well. I backpack to relax and get away from life and stress and my problems that shrink to nothing when I'm on the trail and the only thing I need to do is focus on packing well, putting one foot in front of the other, and make sure I'm at a good campsite before the storm hits. Trail life is simple, but presents challenges in ways that make you grow as a person. You learn to double check your packing list before you leave home, because if you forget your fuel canister you either eat cold food or go hungry. You learn to pitch your tent on a slight incline to keep water from pooling under you when it rains. You learn the value of something when you have to decide if you want to carry it with you, if it is really worth the weight. You learn that the best heat source on a cold night is a dog crammed into your sleeping bag with you, because damn they are warm. So many lessons on the trail that you would never learn if you stay at home.

To celebrate National Backpackers Day I've made a list of my favorite backcountry campsites, all requiring you to strap on what you need to stay in the wilderness for a night or more and hoof it into the middle of nowhere. No cell service, no electricity, no cars, and very few other people, if any. In no particular order, enjoy!

Copper Breaks State Park, Texas

If you're looking for solitude this tiny state park near the Texas/Oklahoma state line delivers like a ton of bricks. They only have a handfull of established campsites and offer just a couple of backpacking permits per night, ensuring you will pretty much have the park to yourself. The trail to the backcountry area isn't long, only about a mile and a half, but you feel like you've walk twenty miles into the middle of nowhere with the lack of noise around you. Fall asleep on a ledge above a small gully listening to the coyotes yip around you as the stars bloom in the deep sky above. Bonus points: you can bring your dog.

Little Medano Campsite, Great Sand Dunes National Park and Presesrve, Colorado

The hike to this backcountry site is not easy, requiring five miles of walking on loose sand, even if you walk on the somewhat packed-down primitive road, but the hike plus how the national park spaces out their backcountry sites all but guarantees you'll have a prime site for watching the sun set over the sand ramp and a good shot at seeing wildlife. There are numerous bears in the preserve portion of the park, so using a hang bag or a bear canister is required. We didn't see one while we were out there, but it wasn't for a lack of trying.

South Llano River State Park, Texas

This pretty little backcountry area has five "established" sites to choose from, once you make the two mile hike to get here. One of the few backcountry sites to provide picnic tables, it is a beautiful place to lounge around under the shade of cottonwood trees while the evening settles in around you. Make sure to get there early and you might see hummingbirds flitting around in the afternoon light while armadillos wake up for a night of foraging. Bonus points: Dogs allowed!

Grapevine Canyon, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

There is no easy way to get to this backcountry site, which requires at least ten miles of walking before you can call it a night. Usually done as the second night of a four day trek along the Grand Canyon, Grapevine retains its water flow through May and sometimes into mid-June. Water is life in the desert, so don't be surprised if you share your site with another hiker or two (though we had the whole canyon to ourselves when we went), and maybe some mule deer or coyotes. The stream is full of tadpoles during spring, though they grow up fast before their home dries up. A word of caution: never camp at the bottom of a canyon, wash, or gully in the desert unless you are certain it won't rain anywhere within 40 miles of your location. Flash floods come up fast and without warning even if it isn't raining where you are. 

Sea Rim State Park, Texas

Who doesn't love the sound of waves crashing in a rhythmic beat against the shore? If you can brave the mosquitoes (with the help of lots and lots of bug spray) a stay along the beach at this state park is well worth the effort to get here. While you can drive along the beach to a point, and those with four wheel drive capabilities can drive even further, you can also load up your backpack and walk to any site on the five miles of beach that suites your fancy. You aren't allowed to camp on the grass-covered dunes, but you wouldn't want to anyway; alligators and wild hogs call them and the salty wetlands the dunes protect home. Sunrises and sunsets above the gulf are like nothing else on earth.

Dune field, Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, Colorado

Everybody wants to play in a giant sand box, and when you can camp in it? Even better. The play of light and shadow among the thirty square mile dune field makes staying the night even more dramatic, just be sure to stay up long enough to catch the sunset over the dunes and wake up early enough to watch the sand begin to glow with the morning light. The hike into the dune field is strenuous, and adding a pack doesn't help. Most people don't cross the first ridge of dunes and that is considered the day use area, so you are required to hike well beyond that before you can call it a night. Give yourself plenty of time to reach your site, but if you do hike in the dark a headlamp is a must. Just be sure to get off the dunes fast if there is an approaching thunderstorm, you truly are the tallest thing out there.

Cottonwood Canyon, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

As one of the few permanent water sources within the canyon walls Cottonwood Canyon is a popular backpacking destination, and is easy enough to reach for a single overnight. That doesn't mean you should pass over it though. In the desert, with water comes beauty, and Cottonwood is well named for its abundant cottonwood trees, as well as junipers and other desert flora. The hike into the canyon is not easy, however, and there are signs and rangers everywhere reminding people that going down into the canyon is optional but coming back up is mandatory. 

What do you think? Can you handle staying in a place like one of those mentioned above? Backpacking really doesn't take a special kind of person, it just takes someone willing to try something new with the possibliltiy of learning a few lessons along the way. There are bad things about backpacking, sure, like the bugs and the heat (or cold), the distance from help if you get into trouble, or the possibility of running in to angry wildlife, but the benefits of backpacking far outweigh the risks. I taught myself how to backpack, devouring every book, magazine, article, and blog I could get my hands on before I felt ready enough to try it on my own, and even now I am tweaking my technique every time I load up for a new trip. Lucky for you, I've got most of the hard part figured out and am more than happy to bring newcomers along for a night or two under the stars. I've somehow managed to talk a couple of my friends and my sister into accompanying me on backpacking adventures, and they keep coming back for more so I can't be scaring them off too badly. Congratulations ladies, this day if for you as well! Want to join our ranks and give backpacking a shot? Let me know! In the meantime, Happy National Backpackers Day!

Grand Canyon Adventure Day 2: The Storm

Tense. My sister and I woke up refreshed. We had gone to bed near the bottom of the Grand Canyon before the light had faded from the sky and woke up with dawn ready for a new day. We weren't in a rush to get going, hiking just under six miles to our next camp, but we also didn't linger. First up on the chore list was filtering water out of the little stream next to where we camped, which was a learning experience for both of us. Neither of us have filtered water before, though I had been carrying a filter with me ever since I began to travel and hike; I've practiced in the kitchen sink, of course, but it is a bit different when you're getting water from a wild stream. We were slow and clumsy but we left Cottonwood Creek with full water bottles and higher spirits, though we knew we were leaving our only guaranteed water source in the next three days. The hike along Cottonwood Canyon was pleasant as we followed the stream on its way to meet the Colorado River, though we found ourselves on a bench well above the bottom of the tributary canyon before we knew it. We soon passed into the main corridor of the Big Ditch, and then we felt the wind.

The force of the gusts almost knocked us over, and our big forty pound packs sailed like ships. We struggled to stay upright and keep our feet under us as the wind seemed to come at us from the side no matter which way we turned. We took more breaks than either of us would have liked as we were still sore from the day before and we were trying to protect ourselves from the gusts that threatened to knock us off the trail. It didn't help that Day 2 showed us our most exposed portions of the entire trail, sometimes taking us so close to the edge that we could glance to our right shoe and see hundreds of feet below. The trail led us to slivers of soft sandstone covered in loose gravel, barely more than two feet wide, with an overhanging cliff on one side and a drop into nothing on the other that had us crouching against the cliff in a desperate hope of finding a handhold. In the midst of our anxiety about falling we finally saw the river! We had seen the Colorado River from the rim when we arrived at The Canyon, but hadn't seen it since we started on our big hike. Now, still more than a thousand feet above it, we could see the deep green river as it carved its path among the sandstone layers of the inner gorge. It was this inner gorge that we would follow for the next two days, though with many meanderings as we looped around deep side canyons until they were shallow enough to cross.

The hike to Grapevine Canyon and our stop for the night seemed to drag by, even though it was our shortest day of hiking by far and we knew an entire afternoon of rest awaited us if we could just get there, but we were exhausted and every gust of wind seemed to suck more strength out of us. After rounding the millionth steep slope of the canyon mesas we looked down onto a welcome sight: a patch of bright green still some distance below but unmistakably some sort of tree or shrub. Grapevine was near! As we got closer we could see the flash of sun reflected from the bottom of the small canyon, telling us we were going to be able to refill our water bottles again that night. We didn't have the energy to run the rest of the trail down into the canyon but we still put as much spring into our limps as we could while negotiating the steep trail. We took some time deciding on a camp site for the night, exploring a bit along the canyon bottom before deciding on a place to call home. Part of me wanted to find the perfect spot, secluded and away from any potential neighbors yet high enough above the water to keep us safe from any flash flooding that might occur if it rained up-canyon, and the other part of me wanted to do it right. We hadn't looked for a good spot the night before but had dropped our packs at the first place we found, and we had passed up other sites that were prettier. If we were going to spend the rest of the afternoon in Grapevine Canyon I wanted it to be perfect. 

Grapevine, as it turned out, was smaller than Cottonwood and our options were a bit limited, but I picked the spot that best suited us and called it good. We set up camp slowly, not in any hurry, and took time to stretched our sore muscles. The stream wasn't far off and we brought our lunch with us as we found a shallow pool to soak our aching feet and ankles in, sighing in relief as the cool water washed away the day's dirt. We found ourselves sharing the stream with a million tadpoles and entertained ourselves watching them wiggle around the little pools and eddies while we ate. After a while we left the stream to stretch out next to our tent, trying to loosen our bodies up and stay off our feet as much as possible. I also needed to sort out my feet; two days of walking had wrecked havoc on my heels and toes and I had massive blisters that I had left alone the night before, but had decided on the hike to Grapevine that I needed to do something about them. I could hardly walk the way they were. Thankfully I carry a first aid kit and set to work on my feet, hoping I wasn't doing more damage than good. They still needed to get me twenty more miles up and out of The Canyon. While absorbed in my work I failed to notice the sky was darkening and the clouds were getting thicker; I brushed of the first few drops of water thinking it was sweat. Alisha and I sat up at the same time, however, and instantly became aware that we were in for a storm. We rushed around camp, picking up our scatter belongings and tossing them haphazardly into the tent as the sprinkles became a little harder and a little more persistent. We ducked into the tent just in time for the skies to open up above us, scrambling to zip the rainfly doors shut behind us. The first shower didn't last long, and that was a good thing: in our rush to get into the tent we had thrown everything in to it before us and were sitting on top of it all. During a break in the rain Alisha went to filter water, knowing we might not get a chance in the morning, and I stayed inside to arrange our living space. It looked like we would be spending our time at Grapevine trying to stay dry.

Alisha hadn't been back inside the tent long before the storm hit. We had heard thunder echoing off the cliffs around us but it had been a distant threat, something to think about and hope that it wasn't coming for us. Now, however, the storm blew up around us and we were exposed; there was nothing like a shelter anywhere within running distance, and we were painfully aware that we had picked a site way too close to the stream. Thunder rolled around us as flashes of lightning threw the contents of the tent into sharp relief. Wind and buckets of rain buffeted the tent and I found myself hoping that the tent would stay staked in the ground, that the poles wouldn't snap above us, that we wouldn't get hit by a random bolt of lightning. We both sat upright in the tent, hugging our knees to our chest and staring straight ahead into nothing without talking; we were both listening intently for the telltale roar of a flash flood, though how we hoped to hear it over the peals of thunder and the drum of rain I had no idea. Eventually, gradually, the storm blew itself out of our small canyon and continued across the inner gorge to bother people on the other rim. We listened to the echoing booms of thunder as it rolled away from us, giving way to a soft tattoo of rain. Just as slowly as the storm moved away we became less afraid of flash flooding, though we knew by the sound of the creek that it had risen quite a bit. We didn't bother getting wet to find out how high it was though, but drifted off to sleep listening to the stream running over little waterfalls and the patter of gentle rain on the tent canvas.

Did you miss Day 1 of the Grand Canyon Adventure? Ready Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Contract

I'm not sure whether it is a good thing or a bad thing that my sister and I created a contract (signed by both of us) that pretty much says whatever happens on our week-long trip to Utah and Arizona stays on said week-long trip. Take it as you will. We know each other and ourselves well enough to know that if either one of us get hungry, hot, tired, injured, or otherwise are miserable, we're liable to take it out on the other one. Couple this with the fact that we're sisters and you have a recipe for words spoken that otherwise would not have smeared the air. Of course, a week in each other's company and the minor detail that we were likely to be hot, hungry, tired, and sore on our four day trek across the Grand Canyon pretty much forced us to come up with a way ahead of time to acknowledge that things might get rough but we still love each other and have each other's best interests at heart, even if we might want to shove each other off a cliff at one point or another. Some of the items listed in our contract have a humorous inflection, but every point listed is serious. Sometimes, you just want to leave your hiking partner or group and wait for them to catch up at a later point, but when you're relying on the other person for safety and motivation leaving them isn't a very smart move. Happily for us, we only "argued" once on the entire adventure, and it was on our way up out of the canyon. The contract worked!

Leave me a comment below and let me know if you would add anything else to this list. I'm open to suggestions!