CAMPER'S COMPANION EXHIBIT


ALTERNATIVE CAMPING: IN THE SNOW, IN THE DESERT AND ULTRALIGHT BACKPACKING

Camping and Hiking in the Snow

Desert Camping

Ultralight Backpacking


We're not extremists except in the matter of moderation. We like the summer, the mountains, and a slow, easy pace. But some people like it cold, others like it hot, and still others just can't seem to sit still, need to cover lots of ground quickly, and thus have to travel light. We've learned a lot from all of them, and here's your chance to tap into these alternative ways.

Camping and Hiking in the Snow

The phrase "winter camping" has to be an oxymoron, right? During the winter, the days are shorter, the temperatures are lower, and the ground is wet, muddy, icy, or buried under several feet of snow or ice. Why would anyone want to venture out in conditions like that?

One simple reason is that few other people do. As soon as you leave the trailhead, presto!--peace and solitude. No need to worry about hiking a dusty six miles and then setting up your camp between a mule-train and a youth group intent on building the world's largest bonfire. In fact, no need to hike six miles at all. A mile in and you'll be far from civilization yet near enough to the car to get back before you get jaded or cold. As an added bonus, you won't find any ravenous mosquitoes or hungry bears.

Another of the beauties of snow camping is the absence of distant destinations. Less is always more in the winter. You go slowly, and you won't go far. But the payback is a rich bounty of stillness; sharp, clean air; and daytime skies and forest calm that dazzle the mind as much as the eye. Snow campers would have it no other way. Summers are okay, they say, but winter is special. You'll never know unless you try. So sign on with a group, follow the lead of an experienced snow hiker, and take a couple of nights. You may never want to hike any other way.

In many areas of the country-in the low desert and along the Pacific coast, for example--camping during the winter doesn't mean camping in the snow. With a little foresight, you can keep warm and dry in those environments while the rest of world huddles in the malls.

It's snow that makes a difference. Traveling can become more difficult and dangerous, shelters need to be stronger, you need to be prepared. In virtually every aspect, from shelters to snowshoes, from frostbite to fires, winter camping in snow country presents unique problems. Unique but not insoluble. Remember why you're going snow camping in the first place: because it's fun; this is not a test of your endurance.

Precautions are necessary, of course, and we're going to tell you lots of things about danger and dicey situations because you need to know about them if only to avoid them. Most of the time in most of the places you'll be going, you'll never need to put on crampons, carry an ice axe, outfit yourself as if for Annapurna, or think about avalanches. But all those things are interesting and might be important,so we give you the lowdown here.

Also, let us point out that winter weather isn't confined to the winter. We've all heard of "freak snowstorms," which blanket the mountains with snow during the spring or fall. High mountain passes are often thick with ice and snow well into the summer. Also during the summer, fierce hailstorms routinely cause drastic drops in temperature and leave several inches of frozen hail on the ground. Even if you travel outdoors only during the summer, the more you know about camping and hiking in the snow, the easier it'll be for you to prepare for and handle such conditions.

Making Tracks

Hiking in the Snow
Hail and snow are an everyday occurrence in the Sierra Nevada; it isn't unusual for an unseasonal snowstorm to coat the ground with more than 6 inches of snow in mid-May or mid-September. At higher elevations, snow and ice remain on many trails far into the summer. Depending on the weather and the time of year, campers often encounter ice and snow without expecting it.

If you don't have an ice-axe or crampons, stay off steep icy trails, especially early in the day. Usually you can wait an hour or two for the sun to warm and melt the top layer and then use your boots to kick walking steps that everyone else can follow. Be especially careful of heading downhill onto an icy slope, even if you see a trail of boot prints. Those prints might have been made the previous afternoon, when the snow was softer. Once you begin sliding on sheer ice, you can easily find yourself bruised, battered and bewildered. Instead, find a sunnier route or one at a lower elevation, or wait for the sun to warm the ice.

Hiking over (or through) snow isn't nearly as dangerous as hiking on ice. In general, hiking in the snow isn't very different than hiking in the rain and mud. While your boots and socks are likely to get wet, your feet won't be much colder than they would be hiking through a hard rain. You can often rig up some homemade gaiters with plastic and tape, to prevent snow from falling into the tops of your boots. Hike with your hands covered by gloves or up inside your sleeves to keep your fingers warm. Take turns leading the way and "breaking the trail" in soft snow. Otherwise the leader will be doing most of the hard work.

Trails are often difficult to follow when they disappear beneath the snow. This is especially true when trails go through thick forested areas. Look for clues, such as a sawed-off tree trunk (the work of a trail crew), trimmed branches, or wide, straight, clear swaths, without any trees, through otherwise thick forests. Often the natural warmth and shelter of a large tree will leave a clear patch in the snow near the base of the tree. If the trail passes next to the tree, that clear patch will often be plain dirt; if not, the forest floor by the tree base will be full of plants, shrubs, and uncleared debris. Note landmarks visible far ahead and follow your compass and map carefully. Remember that snow melts faster at lower elevations. Consider alternative routes which avoid snow-covered forests, passes and ridges. If you seem to be lost, go back to the last known part of the trail and try again. Don't wander off so far into a forest that you can't retrace your steps to the last clear indication of the trail. Finally, don't forget that the sun's reflection can cause snow-blindness and severe sunburn, even on cold days. Wear your hat, dark glasses and long sleeves on the snow and use plenty of sunscreen.

Going Cross-Country
A thick layer of snow can often make cross-country travel easier. It can turn impenetrable brush into a smooth surface. Those pesky manzanita thickets and ankle-wrenching boulder fields may be covered with a carpet of white. With the right equipment, you'll sometimes reach your destination faster in the winter than in the summer.

Considering the extremes of winter conditions, it pays to be cautious. For example, it can be tempting to hike across a frozen lake or pond, rather than around it. Don't take the risk. Mountain lakes are often fed by year-round springs which can enter the lake almost anywhere. The relatively warm spring water can create thin ice. Underneath, the lake may be deep, and it most certainly will be cold. Falling into an icy mountain lake while weighted down with gear can be fatal.

Be careful crossing snow bridges over streams and gullies. If you can hear water rushing below you, you might be standing over a hollow carved out by the running water. Before stepping over running water, probe first with your poles or a long stick. Similarly, at the edges of snowfields, watch for large boulders or a rock wall protruding above the snow. These rocks absorb heat and melt the snow nearby. This can create a large snow cavern beneath the surface--interesting to explore, but dangerous to fall into.

On Your Feet
—Snowshoes
The easiest way to make tracks over snow is to strap on a pair of snow-shoes. Modern snowshoes are lightweight and simple to use. The toe of your boot attaches to a hinge-like flap on the snowshoe, allowing your heel to rise up as you walk, like the binding on a cross-country ski. Most showshoes also have sharp teeth on the underside, to bite into hard frozen surfaces if the going gets icy. As long as the surface isn't too icy and the trails aren't too steep, snowshoes will rarely slip out from under you.

Unlike snow skis, snowshoes don't require much skill to maneuver. If you can put one foot in front of the other (something Hal is still trying to master), you'll do fine with snowshoes. As you can imagine, the first person through a field of soft snow has to beat down a track in the powder. The rest of the group has it a lot easier.

—Cross Country Skis
Traveling in the backcountry on cross-country skis is a specialized skill that requires practice and preparation. Skis come in various types, lengths, strengths and weights, and you won't find one type acceptable for all conditions. A set of bindings which allows you to glide over flat meadows with ease can make your skis difficult to control on steep terrain. Some skis need to be waxed in order to slide smoothly; others require that special nylon "skins" be glued to them for uphill traction.
<\f\f>In addition to a wide variety of skis, you'll find an incredible array of cross-country ski boots: leather, plastic, Gore-Tex, high- or low-ankle, double- or single-walled. Bindings are equally bewildering in variety, though you don't have to be turned out in the latest high-tech types to enjoy a snow camping trip. Regardless of the styles of skis, boots, and bindings that you choose, skiing with a heavy pack on your back is going to be an entirely different experience from what you may be used to. Its easier to lose your balance and harder to pick yourself up when you're down. Before heading into the backcountry on cross-country skis, take lessons if you need to--and get lots of practice.

—Crampons and Ice Axe
In the spring, the sun can melt the top layer of snow during the afternoon. On a cold night, that melted snow may freeze solid. If you plan to start across a snowy mountainside--especially one that hasn't been warmed by the sun--early in the day, you are likely to find it a slippery sheet of ice. Depending on how steep the grade is, you may find that your snowshoes (or cross country skis) don't have traction. At that point, you might simply decide to wait for the sun to warm the slope.

Alternatively, you can use crampons and an ice axe. Crampons are a set of metal teeth that clip or strap to the bottoms of your boots and bite into the ice as you hike or climb.

An ice axe is an even more important tool. Without one, crossing frozen slopes can be very dangerous. An ice axe is often used by the first person in a line to chop a trail of boot-size depressions in ice, making it easier for the rest of the group to follow. If you're going to be in conditions requiring an ice axe, learn how to use one before you need it. Any reputable mountaineering school can teach you how. Among other things, you'll learn the fabled "ice axe self-arrest," a maneuver that breaks and stops a fall or uncontrolled slide on a steep, icy slope. And if you are carrying an ice axe, hold it in the "self-arrest position" as you step carefully from foothole to foothole.

—Boots for Snow and Ice
Boots need to fit your snowshoes or cross country ski bindings and keep your feet warm and dry at the same time. Traditionally winter campers have used waterproofed leather boots surmounted by a pair of waterproof gaiters to keep snow from falling into the top of the boot.

With waterproof boots and gaiters, feet are protected from the snow. But that doesn't stop the boots from soaking up the sweat from your feet. After a long day of snowshoeing or skiing your socks are likely to be soaked and your boots damp and heavy with sweat. If damp boots are left out all night in sub-zero temperatures, guess what'll happen. Right. They'll be frozen solid in the morning. Solution? Take your boots to bed. Put them in your sleeping bag, learn to sleep around them, and keep them there all night.

Another way to solve the sweat-and-freeze problem is to get "double" boots. These boots have an inner leather or Gore-Tex liner which absorbs moisture from your foot. This liner is smaller and less bulky than a traditional single boot, so it doesn't take as much room in your sleeping bag at night. It's also comfortable enough to wear around the campsite. The larger waterproof "outer" boot is hefty and strong, for extra warmth and protection. In the newest boots these outers are plastic, like downhill ski boots. Plastic boots are stiffer than leather, but they don't absorb moisture or get soggy. Nor do they require as much off-season care.

Other Winter Travel Equipment
Obviously, ski poles are a big help in the winter. (Hal thinks they're a big help in the summer! Don't ask.) Cross-country skiers and snowshoers use them for balance and extra push through the snow. But you can also use them for a "ski pole self-arrest" if you find yourself sliding down an icy surface. Specialized poles are available which can be turned into probes to check snow depth or to search for an avalanche victim.

In addition, many winter campers haul their equipment behind them using a small, lightweight sled attached to a hip belt by means of two lightweight poles. A sled allows you to bring along that four-season tent, the extra clothes, the double sleeping pads, and a couple of shovels, without carrying everything on your back.

Finally, if you're traveling in areas prone to avalanches (see below), it's a good idea for everyone in the group to wear a radio-transmitting avalanche beacon.

Clothes

Winter camping clothes won't be very different from their summer camping cousins. You'll just need lots more of them. Since cotton soaks up moisture, takes a long time to dry, and loses its insulating ability when wet, don't wear cotton. Any combination of synthetics, wool, fleece, down, and Gore-Tex seems to work fine. It's easier to stay warm while moving, and it's important not to be overdressed while hiking. All that's going to get you is clothes damp with condensation.

Speaking of condensation, of getting cold when you thought you'd be warm: Remember all those promises about waterproof stuff providing just the insulation you need while out in the elements? They're true only if your outer gear is actually waterproof. A leak here or there is going to undermine the entire arrangement. That may not be much of a problem in the summertime, when storms pass quickly and the sun's warmth compensates for faults in Gore-Tex or other miracle insulators. Solution? Before you head out into the snow and a possible bad day of freezing sleet, make sure your outer shell is sound. Go take a shower with it. Really. Get in the shower, and stand there for 10 minutes. (Don't soap.) If all systems are go at home, they'll be fine on the trail. If not, don't stint. Get yourself an insulating shell that works.

Back at camp, you'll need all your extra layers, especially at night. Since you can get chilled just changing clothes, make it a point to tie short cords to all your zippers. That way, you can zip and unzip without removing your mittens. Special winter camping mittens are available which have a small removable hood over the fingertips. That way, you can perform specialized tasks (such as priming the stove) without removing your entire mitten. If the sky is overcast or stormy, or if it's late when you get to camp, there won't be enough warmth in the air to dry those sweaty socks and underwear. You'll need to sleep with them in your sleeping bag at night (along with your boots and a water bottle). It'll be a little crowded in there, but just think of it as your tenement-for-a-night.

Sleeping Bags and Pads

Most people bring along more than one sleeping pad in the winter, especially if their trip is planned around an elaborate base camp, and use some sort of sled to haul in their gear. Some people prefer a Therm-a-Rest inflatable pad with an ensolite foam pad underneath. The foam pad can double as a changing area when it's time to take off shoes or socks and you don't want to stand on a wet tent floor or in the snow.

Down sleeping bags are the warmest per pound, but they tend to have condensation problems in the winter. As you sweat during the night, the moisture rises through the down. When it hits the icy cold outer layer of the down bag, it condenses, and your down bag may be wet and partially frozen in the morning. Synthetic fibers, while heavier than down, insulate better when wet. Many winter campers gain extra warmth by putting a lightweight sleeping bag or quilt inside their regular bag. Whatever bag(s) you bring, it's best to err on the side of extra warmth. A freezing cold night in the wilderness in winter is longer than a boring sermon and a lot more dangerous.

Finally, some winter campers swear by "vapor barrier" systems for sleeping, hiking, and hanging around camp). If you want to get more warmth out of less weight during the winter, this approach deserves serious consideration (see Chapter 4).

A Roof Over Your Head

Tents
Even in snowy areas, if you look hard enough, you'll usually be able to find a campsite where you can set up your tent on solid ground. Look in deep forests, near large trees, or next to large boulders or rock walls. Unlike summer camping, you don't need to set up your camp close to a source of water. On the other hand, you won't find much dry firewood in the winter. Be sure to bring enough fuel to melt snow for drinking. And before you set up camp near a tree, look up at the branches overhead. Thick globs of soft snow can weigh many pounds and can literally crush your tent if they come crashing down suddenly in the middle of the day. Morning is usually the coldest time of day, so think about setting up your tent on a slope facing the east, where you will get the morning sun.

Most summer camping tents simply aren't constructed to stand up to winter winds, storms, or snowfalls. As snow piles up on top of a rainfly, the weight of the snow changes the shape of the tent. If you go to sleep in a typical "three season" tent on a snowy evening, you might wake up in the middle of the night and find the sides of the tent nearly touching each other--and your nose (Hal's definitely). In addition, if the rainfly is pushed against the tent roof, there is no way for the condensation created by your breath and sweat to escape. When that moist air touches the inside of the tent roof, it will start to drip back down onto you, your gear and your sleeping bag. In addition, your summer tent may not have enough room inside for all your gear. And if you leave any of it outside, it may be buried and lost under newly fallen snow.

A "four season" tent is stronger, heavier, and designed for winter use. The floor is waterproof, so it can be set up on snow without the prospect of moisture seeping up from below. It usually has a vestibule, where you can shed wet clothes and store bulky gear. Set up correctly--so that there is no danger of fire--you can even cook in the vestibule when the weather outside is nasty. These tents are sturdy enough not to collapse during a snowy night, and they are designed with ventilation systems that hold condensation to a minimum.

Of course, normal tent stakes won't hold in the snow. Instead, you'll need to attach your tent guy lines to buried plastic "paddles" (flat sheets cut from a gallon milk jug, punctured in two places to secure the guy lines), snow-filled plastic bags, or branches laid horizontally under the snow.

Snow Shelters
If you liked building forts and castles as a kid, you'll love constructing snow shelters. Snow shelters are great bulwarks against the weather, and, because so much air is trapped inside of snow, they provide excellent insulation.

All you need to build a snow shelter is a shovel, some time, and the spirit of your prairie ancestors. There are a number of possible designs, but they all use the same basic principles. First, find or construct a big pile of snow. Before you start digging, probe the snow with your poles to be sure that there aren't any boulders or tree stumps inside. Next, climb on top and stomp the snow down as much as you can. Dig a doorway into the pile, as low as possible. Since warm air rises, you want a low doorway to trap it inside the shelter. Inside the doorway, dig a round living area, leaving the walls of your shelter thick enough so they won't collapse. Construct a sleeping area as a raised platform, so that it will retain as much heat as possible. Finally, punch a few holes in the roof for ventilation. Be sure you don't begin this sort of project late in the day, after it is already dark and cold. It takes a lot of energy to build a snow shelter and you will be hungry and tired before you're through.

Some snow campers also use saws to carve densely packed snow or ice into large blocks. These blocks can then be used to construct walls, storage areas and even igloos. You can also use skis, poles, snowshoes, packs and tarps as structural material to increase strength or save time. For example, a long ditch in the snow, covered on top with a tarp and ski poles (or blocks of ice), can make a cozy shelter for the night. Place your pack at the entrance as a door.

Other Winter Camping Equipment

If you camp near a running stream or lake, it can still be difficult to reach the water if there's a lot of snow on the ground. You may need to cut steps in the snow. Some folks attach a cooking pot to a ski pole with a length of rope and then dip the pot into the water while standing in a safe area. Just because water is cold, it isn't free of microorganisms, so any running water you drink during the winter needs to be treated the same as any outdoor water supply.

Snow, on the other hand, is free of giardia, so you don't need to filter water made from melted snow. However, if you'll be melting snow for drinking water, you might want to bring along an extra stove and fuel cartridge, as well as a spare pot. That way, you can be heating dinner with one stove and melting snow for drinking water with the other. Even if you don't build a snow shelter, you can construct a small, sheltered cooking area in a compacted snow bank, complete with storage areas for pots and pans, much like your kitchen counter at home. You will, however, need a "counter-top" to prevent your stove from sinking into your kitchen table; an old license plate or square of wood works well. If you do cook out in the open, be sure to bring a foil wind-screen to keep your flame from blowing out. As an alternative way to melt snow, you can construct a "solar still." Simply place a clean, dark plastic bag full of snow on an ensolite pad in a sheltered spot. Leave it exposed to the sun all day.

You'll use a lot of camp fuel in the winter. One rule of thumb is to bring three times what you would need during the summer--often as much as a half-liter of fuel per person per day. And be careful about allowing the fuel to come into contact with your skin in the cold. Since camp fuel doesn't freeze like water, a few drops of spilled or splashed fuel can "burn" your hands, arms or face, actually causing localized frostbite.

Bring wide-mouth containers for storing water. Since ice will form first at the top of any container, it's best to store water containers upside-down in the snow. That way, the lids won't freeze shut. If you take one container of water to bed with you, you'll be sure to have at least some non-frozen water in the morning.

Before you leave home, look at how your food is packaged, since you'll be wearing bulky mittens much of the time. It's much easier to unscrew a lid with mittens than it is to unwrap or open plastic packaging or separate the top of a Ziploc bag. The more you can keep your hands inside your mittens, the warmer they'll be. Bring an insulated cup-holder so your hot drinks or meals stay warm longer. You don't want to return to your hot cup of soup and find ice forming around the rim! If you are camped in a snow shelter, candles can be used instead of flashlights at night. Or you can bring lanterns which use the same fuel as your stove. Of course, if you're camping in a tent, keep all flames outside, or under a safe vestibule.

Finally, don't forget to prepare your vehicle for the snow. Just because the weather is clear when you drive into the mountains, don't expect blue skies when you hike out. Snow chains or snow tires are a must. Be sure your antifreeze is concentrated enough for the nighttime temperatures. A windshield scraper will also make a difference, especially if you arrive back at the trailhead just after a snowfall. A little WD-40 in your door locks can keep them from freezing. And be careful where you park while you go camping. If your vehicle gets in the way of snow removal equipment while you're camped out, you could return to find it ticketed, towed, or damaged.

Hazards

Hypothermia and Frostbite
For unprepared travelers, the dangers of hypothermia increase in the winter in the snow. In addition, frostbite is a real danger. You need to keep your body warm--paying special attention to your fingers and toes. Fingers stay warmer when bundled together in mittens (as opposed to gloves, which have separate fingers). If you are caught unexpectedly in a snowstorm, you can make a temporary waterproof mitten by putting each hand into a sock, then covering the sock with a plastic bag.

Once you stop moving and make camp, warm your feet and hands. Put them in a sleeping bag. Better yet, warm your hands or feet on a buddy's tummy. Put on dry clothes. Drink warm liquids. If you are really cold and find yourself shivering uncontrollably, you probably need to have someone else in the bag with you for warmth.

One surprising fact about winter camping is the amount of fluid you'll need. With extra layers of clothes, many hikers sweat more during a typical winter hike than they would on the same trail during the summer. Don't skimp on drinking lots of water. It's not unusual for snow campers and hikers to consume a gallon of water per day. Believe it or not, dehydration is almost as likely to occur during the winter as during the summer.

Avalanche Danger
Before you go out in the winter, check with local rangers on avalanche danger. You'll find plenty of places where you can enjoy snow camping without having to worry about avalanches. If you aren't out in the winter to ski, snowboard, or mountain climb, you won't need to go anywhere near steep slopes anyway--you can enjoy the snow in a secluded meadow or forest without worrying about avalanches.

Avalanches are most likely to occur on slopes with an angle of between 30 and 60 degrees. Some winter campers carry a special angle gauge to measure slope angle, but can sight it in just with your hand and get fairly close. With your forefinger vertical and your thumb horizontal, hold your hand up so you can see the profile of the slope behind it; a 45-degree slope is pretty easy to measure this way--it's halfway between your thumb and forefinger. Anything close to 45 degrees (either more or less) is probably dangerous to climb or traverse, especially if there is heavy snow on it. Avalanches don't always crash down on you from above. They are just as likely to begin under your feet as you travel horizontally across a steep slope and suddenly find that the snow lets loose. Suddenly, you are sliding down the mountain along with tons of frozen debris.

It is safest to negotiate even slightly dangerous terrain one person at a time. If you're traveling up or down a slope, don't line up above and below one another. If you're traveling across a steep hillside, send one person across at a time while the rest of the group stays sheltered behind a rock or tree, safely out of harm's way. A special avalanche radio transmitter, called an avalanche beacon, should be standard issue for everyone hiking in any area prone to avalanches. Finally, you need to know how to probe for a person under the snow using special poles called avalanche probes. Some ski poles convert to avalanche probes by removing the baskets and screwing two poles together. The skill of probing for a buried hiker in an avalanche isn't something you want to learn after someone in your party is lost under the snow. Before you go into an area where avalanches are known to occur, practice probing by burying a pack (with radio transmitter), finding it, and then carefully digging it out.

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Desert Camping

As camping settings, desert sands and winter snows have more in common than you might think. Both offer the allure of unmatched solitude, trackless expanses (at once a danger and a delight), and extremes of beauty and climate. Both present challenges and opportunities which, if met, pay off big in enjoyment. Both can provide a deep wilderness experience less than a mile from the car. And both require special precautions--against thirst and extremes of heat and cold in the desert. You may become a desert rat once you've been out there. That's what happened to Stanya and Harry, who have taught us what we know about desert camping.

What's the Attraction?
Think about it: The sun can fry your face off in the desert, and for comic relief you get nights so cold you think the gods have done a bait and switch on you when you weren't looking. Sand storms can strip the paint off your car and blot out the view of your hand in front of your face. Water counts so much it can become an obsession. The ground is hard, sometimes gravely, and while there are dunes right out of central casting, more often you're in a world of dry washes, boulders, sere canyon walls, and rocky terrain. So what's to like? Glad you asked. How about the wildflowers in spring, so improbable in their variety and brilliance that they stop you in your tracks? How about the cacti-stranger and more bizarre than your in-laws, and sometimes equally unforgiving. (Don't kick a cactus. You'll come away with a foot full of needles. Don't pet a cactus. You'll come away with a hand full of invisible barbs. Don't cozy up to the famous "jumping" chollas. They'll cover your shorts with stinging needles from hell. Just look and move on.) How about the light--at dawn and dusk? It can make strong women weep and strong men shut up for a change. You don't have to be Georgia O'Keeffe to come back from the desert convinced that you've never quite got light and color right before. And how about the stars? They seem to explode out of the cold sky as they do nowhere else on earth.

The desert is a living contradiction, and that's one of the things that make it irresistible to so many hikers and campers. It's fragile and tough. Dirt bikes and hiking boots off trail (if there is a trail) can leave their marks for years and destroy the protective "skin" of the desert floor. Same with fires. They leave lasting scars. But it's still a harsh world out there, and it's going to tame you long before you tame it. That's the attraction and the challenge.

The Three Most Important Rules: Water, Water, Water

The main thing about desert camping and backpacking is that you have to plan your trip around water. You either camp near enough to the car to hike out to it to get more water, or you camp near a spring or along a river in season. Water availability is going to determine where, how, and for how long you're going to be able to go. But don't despair. Because desert terrain is usually so vast and unpopulated, even a short hike from the car to your campsite will put you out there in the open wilderness. That way you can pack in supplies in one or two trips, and if necessary go into town or to the ranger station to replenish your water supply. Carry a couple of gallons out to the campsite; leave a couple more in the car. That's a couple. You won't regret it.

You'll need water for cooking and you'll need it to drink all day long. Repeat, all day long. Don't wait until you're dehydrated. Even if you don't feel thirsty, sip water throughout the day. The sun is sucking you dry as you hike, and dehydration and an overheated body engine can strike faster than you can spell hyperthermia. (Hypothermia is just the opposite, loss of body heat. Your snow-camping pals are more likely to suffer that.) And don't squander this scarcest of all resources. Go ahead, use a little to brush your teeth, but wait to wash your face and other body parts until you get back to the shower or a provident oasis or flowing river. Out here, cleanliness is not next to godliness.

Bring canteens or extra water bottles on day hikes. If you're using water bottles and can't fit them in your day pack or a fanny holster, make a strap for them with a strip of cloth so you can sling them over your shoulders, leaving your hands free. Each person should carry at least 1.5 liters of water for a day trip, and it always helps to have another bottle stashed in someone's day pack. (Somebody will have room. Somebody will have thought to go back to the car for that extra bottle.)

If you're backpacking, ask about rivers, springs, and other water sources before you go out. In many desert areas--in Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado, for example--there are rivers in the desert. This is great, but only if there's water in them. A winter stream can be a dry bed in the late spring and fall. Once you determine that the water course on your map is wet, be prepared for a lot of canyon hiking, and bring a water filter. Without one, you'll be stuck. Most river water will be filterable, though sometimes it can be too silty or muddy to filter. That's why it's important to know if there are springs or seeps (dribbling water on canyon walls) in the area. Rangers will know. Also find out if the springs flow all year-round. Seeps can be used if need be, by collecting the run-off into a pot and then filtering it from there into your bottles.

When to Go

Spring and fall—late April and May, late September through early November—are the camping seasons in the desert. Winters can be cold, wet, even snowy. And in the high desert there are lots of clay flats that turn into treacle and mud in the winter rains and become treacherous for vehicles. Even mild winter days take no prisoners after the sun goes down. You may not need snowshoes, but pack those down parkas, hats, gloves, long johns, and wool socks if you're going in December. Summer is, well, an inferno—by 9:00 a.m. it's as hot as a tandoori oven, and it only gets worse till the sun begins to fade late in the day. Even in the spring and fall, the temperature shifts can be radical—in the 90s by mid-morning, in the 30s at night. But May and September can be just about perfect. Just about. That means two things: Check in advance what the temperature range is for the days you'll be out in the desert, and bring the right gear.

The other big draw to springtime camping in the desert is the cactus in bloom. It happens only once a year, and so suddenly that you're almost afraid to blink. The desert's pleasures are intense, not subtle. So get your wildflower books out, get on the line to the ranger station, find out when the bloom is on the desert floor, and head out. And what the flowers are to spring, the light is to the fall, as the sun begins its long trek toward winter sight lines. The desert is empty then, the tourists mostly gone back to the cities or the Winnebagos. The desert backcountry will be yours alone.

Setting Up Camp

If you've camped in the mountains or on the rivers and lakes, or if you've done a lot of car camping, you know more or less what you need for a desert campsite. The only difference is that there's not much shade or many natural barriers against the weather, particularly the wind. Look for a rock wall or a natural rise in the ground against which you can pitch a tent and get out of the elements. No need for a fire ring, because you're not going to build fires. The desert ecosystem is too fragile, natural fuels are too scarce, and the fire scars you'd leave behind are flat out unforgivable. Use that stove.

Don't bring food that will wilt, melt, wither, or spoil in the heat or sun. Unless you have the world's second-greatest cooler, stick with processed or dehydrated or freeze-dried foods and fruits. Or use the car as a daily delivery service: into town for fresh food and back to the desert camp for supper. Paul Bowles might not have approved, but look what happened to his desert travelers.

Take advantage of the sudden transition from car park to wilderness. A mile away is a lifetime removed. You really are out in the wilds and yet can haul in as much gear as you need or want--including, say, a lantern, guitar, camp chair, a really big novel, and enough sunscreen to cover the entire staff of The New England Journal of Medicine. The food, stove, fuel, matches, tent, sleeping bag go on the first schlep. A small shovel to bury human waste will put you on the ecological honor roll, as will plastic bags to haul out toilet paper, tampons and other bio-un-degradeables. And if you've forgotten the water and water filter, you're not ready for a desert trip; go home.

If you are bent on serious backpacking, travel light. The heat and sun take their toll on heavy packs. Some desert packers eat cold, thus escaping stove and fuel weight. But maps, rope, compass, GPS, and the full array of defenses against the sun cannot be sacrificed any more than an adequate water supply.

What to Bring

You don't need to go out and buy a special wardrobe to camp comfortably in the desert. Ordinary camping and backpacking gear will do. Lightweight layers for the daytime, with long sleeved shirts to keep your limbs out of the sun, are a must. So is lightweight rain gear for those sudden unexpected downpours. And, as there's not enough water for laundering sweat-soaked t-shirts and shorts, bring a change or two. Cover your head. A visor's okay, but a hat's better. The top of your noggin is a precious possession, so protect it from the sun. Something like Sherlock Holmes' deerstalker—with a flap that covers the back of the neck, too—is just the ticket. Or combine an Oakland A's hat with a neckerchief.

Your lightweight hiking boots have good treads for unexpected boulder descents, and your sneakers are acceptable. Forget sandals--the graveled moonscape of the desert floor and the tenacious plants on your path will feast on exposed toes, and those poor bare digits will never forgive you.

Basic necessities (not luxuries): sunscreen, moisturizing lotion, lip balm, aloe vera gel for sunburn, aspirin for heat-induced headaches, sunglasses. For sun protection, even a parasol wouldn't be out of place. Take ointment for scrapes and bruises, which are almost guaranteed by desert hiking. And never forget those warm clothes for the night—woolens or synthetics—including a warm hat and maybe even gloves. Moccasins or unlaced sneakers are terrific for the campsite. So are a couple of ground cloths or tarps, one to go under the tent, one to sit on.

Hiking in the Desert

All right, your camp is set up and you're ready to explore. Don't leave the campsite without a topo map, a compass, and, if possible, a GPS. Desert terrain often seems featureless. The few trails present often peter out. The landmarks are often few and far between or, more to the point, indistinguishable from every other feature around you. The light in the morning and evening plays on these landscapes in ways that appear to transform the familiar into the unmet or unknown. Knowing where you're going helps, but knowing where you are and where you're coming from is imperative. Fortunately, the desert, like the ocean, is made for the GPS. Those satellites which make them work are not going to be blocked by thick forest cover, and you'll get accurate readings fast. Enter and name the readings, make them often, and check them against the topo map.

If you're hiking with map and compass only, take lots of time, and try to use the few landmarks out there: a rock formation, range of nearby hills, large, oddly shaped cactus, a canyon to the left or right. Look at them fore and aft if possible, as if you were approaching them coming and going. Try to remember the angle from which you're viewing them. This may sound silly, but a half-mile to the right or left, what looked like a smiling brontosaurus may now look like a bunny's backside. If you're following a dry wash, try to remember which fork you take and when. Count the forks you take, maybe number them on a note pad with an arrow indicating "right" or "left." Because all the forks are going to look alike. Trail ducks help, but there are few small or medium sized rocks out there, so you may need to improvise: a mound of dead cholla branches, a desiccated skull. And be prepared to experience everything in a radically different light on the return to your campsite. The colors, shapes and shadows change momentously in the desert light and while at 4 p.m. your camp is probably just on the other side of that gray broccoli mound, at 7:00 that morning it was a golden phoenix. It's easy to get befuddled even if you're not turned around. Use your watch. Time your hike to that oasis or canyon bottom. Know what time it gets dark, and start your return with plenty of time to spare.

Desert terrain contains more multiple choices than an SAT exam. You're likely to encounter dunes, cracked clay earth, salt flats, sand and dirt mesas, rock formations, dry river beds, wet sand, canyons, and boulders. Like cross-country hiking anywhere, off-trail desert treks require certain skills, above all a sense of modesty and a knowledge of your (and your friends') limits. The notion of "overcoming" nature, "besting" it, "challenging" it seems downright stupid to us. It's possible to get up and down a rock formation without having first made a solo ascent of El Capitan, but when you're on the rocks or traversing a boulder field, go one step at a time, hug the rock face when necessary, don't be afraid to sit down and inch your way along, figure out how to get down before you go up, and try to hike with someone who's better at these things than you are.

Also, while you're at it, stay on the trails whenever possible. Cryptobiotic soil, the geologists' name for that delicate dark brown crust found in most deserts, provides a crucial protective layer on the desert floor, sealing in moisture and nutrients which enable the desert flora to continue living. Stepping on the cryptobiotic crust destroys it, and it takes 150 years to regenerate! Too much of the soil has been trampled by backcountry campers, and some desert environments have become endangered because of it. So, as they say in Utah, "Don't bust the crust!"

Wherever you go on your hike, the ground is likely to be hard and uneven. Stanya takes a multi-purpose square of cotton cloth with her on day hikes to use as a ground cloth for lunch, a sun shade, a sling for carrying supplies, and a wrap against the cold or wind.

A Word about Canyon Hiking
Canyon hiking can be exciting and fun but dangerous. Flash floods take lives, so check with the weather service before you head into canyon country. And if you decide to overnight in the canyons, make your camp on a rocky shelf well above the water line. Know your escape routes at all times, and if you have any doubts about the river flow, the weather, or the terrain (getting down into canyons can be dicey), either hike in with an experienced canyoneer or stay out. Harry once encountered quicksand in Utah's Paria Canyon and had to work himself out one leg at a time, happy to have had a 50-foot length of rope to steady body and nerves. He was also happy to have a beat-up pair of sneakers with him to walk the river bottoms, and a hiking pole for balance.

Wildlife

Lizards, roadrunners, coyotes, rattlesnakes and jack rabbits are the most common animals you may encounter in the desert. Field mice, mountain lions, and bobcats, too. The lizards are harmless and very shy. If you see one, let it be-actually a good rule for all living things in the desert, plants and animals alike. It's a treat and an honor to get a chance to see some of the big lizards, so be respectful and quietly move on. Coyotes rarely approach people, but at dusk you can hear them crying across the canyons to each other and fresh coyote spoor on the trail let you know they're not far away. Mostly harmless, they keep a distance and rarely scavenge for food. The big cats are of course dangerous and you should consult the rangers for specific information on the likelihood of encountering any in your particular patch of the desert.

If you see a rattler, stay calm, stop, back away slowly. Snakes don't want to mess with you and, if given the opportunity, will usually make a quick, smooth getaway. If you make enough noise while hiking along the trail, they can hear you and get out of your way before you stumble upon them. Snakebite kits are controversial. More people appear to misuse them than get it right; besides, as we've pointed out elsewhere in this book, hardly anyone ever dies of snakebite in this country. Still, if you're determined to take a kit along, know how to use it. Otherwise, suck the venom from the strike area, or have a friend do it, hike back to the car, and get to the doctor.

As in all wilderness areas, the animals, large and small, stay hidden for most of the day and are not wildly social. Try to keep it that way.

Pets?

Dogs are not allowed in National Parks, but if you're in other desert areas and have enough water for your pooch and enough protection against severe dehydration and heat exposure, sure, bring her along. Check her paws throughout the day; parts of the desert combine the best features of a hot griddle and a field of broken glass, and your dog is not going to be a happy camper with sore, swollen, or infected feet.

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Ultralight Backpacking

Over the last 30 years, a cadre of backpackers has emerged who want to go farther and faster and travel lighter and lighter. Call them the ultra-marathoners of the backcountry, the zephyrs of the trail. They call themselves "thru-hikers," because they routinely hike "through," say, the entire Pacific Crest or Appalachian Trail, or any of a number of other long-distance hikes, in a single season. Needing to cover 15-20 miles per day, these folks discovered long ago that pack weight was a major obstacle to covering that kind of ground.

Because hiking many miles each day requires lots of calories, they can't easily cut back on food weight. Reasoning that a typical pack might weigh as much as 30 pounds before loading in the food, they've been experimenting with ways to cut the non-food load to the bone. The lighter the pack, they've found, the farther they can travel without foot, shoulder, or muscle pain. While other backpackers might be hauling 40 pound packs over a pass, a thru-hiker with a 20-pound load (10 pounds of food plus 10 pounds of everything else in a lightweight sack) can make it up those mountain switchbacks with less effort and down the other side with far less damage to shoulders and joints.

The big problem with lightweight gear is that it often isn't as tough as traditional gear. Take tents. It's difficult and expensive to create a two-person tent that can protect you from the rain and wind, keep out mosquitos and gnats, and still weighs only a few pounds. A tent made from ultralight nylon is likely to tear during a storm. In fact, it's possible to tear one simply pulling it out of a stuff sack too quickly. Manufacturers, sensible to complaints of "flimsy construction," have tended to steer clear of ultralight equipment, concentrating instead on gear that's increasingly tougher and stronger without adding significant weight.

Thru-hikers have thus been forced to make their own equipment, sharing advice and information. In the past, this was done through local trail clubs and organizations. Today, you can find a wealth of information about ultralight hiking and gear on the Internet. A hike of the complete Pacific Crest or Appalachian Trail takes a lot of planning, and most thru-hikers are deservedly proud of their accomplishment. Many of them have created web pages full of photos and diaries. If you want to know how someone managed to hike hundreds of miles with a 10-pound pack (excluding food), you'll find numerous answers on the Net.

Who Could Use a Lighter Pack?

Several years ago, Rick, Hal, and Steve were hiking to a legendary lake in Northern California. We started out at the trailhead with three packs weighing about 35 pounds each. After a long hike up a steep mountain trail the first day, Hal's legs began to cramp. While he massaged his muscles that evening, Rick and Steve were talking. The next day's journey was going to be even harder, including lots of steep, brushy, cross-country travel. It was clear that we had to lighten the load.

We knew we would be coming back through the same campsite, so we cached our last day's food (about five pounds). Then we went through our equipment and left everything that wasn't essential tucked away in plastic garbage bags, hidden under a fallen tree trunk. In all, we left nearly 25 pounds of clothes, tarps, and cooking and fishing equipment. With lighter packs, the cross-country trek to the lake was much easier. Not only did Hal's muscles perform flawlessly (his mind's another thing altogether), but the lighter packs made the hike over boulders and through brush easier on Steve and Rick. Moreover, we never missed a single thing we stashed below. It was all "non-essential." We could have left it all at home!

Anyone carrying gear could use a lighter pack. We all have weak links in our carrying capacity: a bum knee here, a sore ankle there, a bad back, bony shoulders. Whether you're hiking fifteen miles a day or only three, walking with a pack should be an enjoyable part of the trip. There's nothing more disheartening than watching someone struggle with a heavy, unwieldy pack when s/he could be enjoying the scenery, the companionship, and the hike. Lightweight packs are even more essential for youngsters, oldsters, and anyone who doesn't buy into that old canard, "No pain, no gain." Watching weight is certainly worth considering.

Question One: Is it really, really, really necessary?
Try this exercise. The next time you return from a trip, separate your gear into three piles. First, pull out everything that you brought along but never used. Next, make of pile of things that you couldn't have done without. Finally, look at what is left. How many extra socks do you really need? How many pots, cups and spoons are really required? Could you have left the camp saw and the GPS at home?

Question Two: Can anything do double-duty?
One of the most intriguing ways to lighten your load is to find items that can have more than one use. If trekking poles can be used as tent poles, you can leave the tent poles at home. If your folding Ensolite sleeping pad can be used as an "internal frame" for your pack, you can create a pack without a frame. If you can also use your rain jacket for extra warmth, you can leave that bulky sweatshirt at home. A little ingenuity can lighten your load and have surprising results.

Question Three: What is the lightest possible gear you can travel with?
Depending on your goal when hiking outdoors, there are many alternative approaches to choosing gear. Some choose by cost; some choose by quality and reputation; thru-hikers choose by weight. The following sections on ultralight gear won't be right for everyone, but they will be worth considering if you want to lighten the load.

An Ultralight Shelter

A typical two-person tent, including poles and stuff-sack, weighs between four and seven pounds. Freestanding models will set up anywhere, and it protects you from insects and the weather. But, it may also be the heaviest single item in your pack. It includes a nylon floor, when you already have an ensolite pad under your sleeping bag. It includes special poles and a separate rainfly, shaped specifically for that tent. The poles, rainfly, and tent have only one use.

The lightest alternative to a tent is a lightweight nylon tarp, typically one to two pounds. It's waterproof, like a rainfly. Tree branches or hiking poles support the tarp as a shelter, so you don't need to carry special tent poles. In a bad downpour, you can simply wrap the tarp around you or sit under it as you wait out the storm.

The biggest problem with tarp shelters is that they don't protect from mosquitoes and other biting or crawling insects. But here again, there are light-weight solutions, including bivy sacks and clever stringing of mosquito-netting under tarps or around sleeping bags.

Even lighter than nylon is a material called Tyvek Housewrap, which some thru-hikers use for their do-it-yourself tarps or ground covers. Tyvek is a vapor barrier material typically used in house construction. It's both lighter and stronger than most nylon tarp material, and is completely waterproof. Since it's a commercial building product, it is usually sold in rolls nine feet wide and 100 feet long. But if you check on the Web, you'll find a number of sources that sell it to thru-hikers and backpackers in sizes and shapes closer to those of a typical tarp.

As thru-hikers travel long distances each day, they learn to be careful about where they stop and camp. They'll typically use valleys and protected forest areas to provide their first line of defense against blustery winds and driving rainstorms. In addition, they might set up their tarp in the lee of large boulder or a clump of trees as further protection.

A Light Sleeping Bag

Many backpackers buy sleeping bags for maximum warmth, rather than lightest weight. Sleeping bags rated for temperatures below 0° F can often weigh five to six pounds. Instead of a single heavy sleeping bag, thru-hikers often combine sleeping bag liners, fleece blankets, lightweight "summer-rated" sleeping bags, and/or bivy shelters. In this way, they can have the right combination for the altitude, temperature, and the weather that they'll encounter on a specific leg of their trip-and they'll save weight, too.

An Ultralight Pack

Put your backpack on the bathroom scale. Completely empty, it probably weighs between four or five pounds. Before one trip, we weighed all six backpacks, old and new, that adorn the wall of Rick's garage. Surprisingly, the lightest one (at just over 2.5 pounds) was also the oldest. Many new internal-frame packs, with their heavy-duty construction and internal bracing, weigh in on the high end. While that might be fine for bushwhacking through brush and over rocks, it might be overkill--and overweight--for typical trail hiking.

If you can cut your gear weight down to 10 or 15 pounds, excluding food, then you won't need as tough (or as heavy) a pack to carry it. Instead, you can use something that resembles a large, comfortable stuff sack with shoulder straps and a hip belt. A number of manufacturers now make lightweight, frameless packs that weigh two pounds or less. Many thru-hikers have modified existing packs--or sewn their own--and thereby lowered the weight of an unloaded pack to less than a pound.

Hiking Shoes

You don't often think of your shoes as part of your "pack weight." But every time you take a step, you are picking up one of those shoes as well as your clothes and the weight of your pack. Typical "heavy duty" hiking boots can weigh up to four pounds each. Running shoes often weigh less than a pound. Of course, you need to support your weight when your foot comes back down to the ground. But with a lighter pack, you can more easily support yourself using a lighter shoe, even on a rocky mountain trail. As long as you stay on maintained trails and aren't hiking over really rough, treacherous terrain, lighter footwear will make your going easier.

Clothes

Most people don't deliberately bring extra-heavy or bulky clothes on a backpacking trip. They simply bring too many changes and choices. Between the rain gear, the extra jeans, the long johns, the warm parka, the wash towel, and their favorite cozy sweatshirt, some backpackers throw in an extra four or five pounds of clothes "just in case." While this isn't a problem on a canoe or pack animal trip, thru-hikers consider it unnecessary. A typical ultralight backpacker is likely to be wearing all of his or her clothes on a cold, rainy night (except perhaps for a change of socks and underwear).

Stoves and Water Purification

Most backpacking stoves weigh about a pound--without fuel. If you carry several days worth of white gas or propane, it will add an additional pound. The ultralight alternative to a stove is a supply of fuel tablets. Two small tablets in an old tuna can will boil water for a hot meal, although readying your evening meal may take a bit longer than it would with a conventional backpacker's stove. Using fuel tablets also makes it easy to plan in advance exactly how much fuel you'll need for the trip. And the tablets make good fire starters if you're camping where there's a good supply of fire wood.

Water filters can weigh up to nearly two pounds. And if you depend solely on the filter for all your water, you'll probably pack a spare filter element as well, which represents additional weight. Without question, the lightest-weight approach to water purification is boiling and iodine-type purification tablets.

Odds and Ends


Can you get by with a single pot for several people? Can you leave the plates at home? Do you really need the fishing net? Can the whole group get by with just one lightweight camera? Can you substitute a lightweight plastic soda bottle for your canteen? Could you use rocks or sticks gathered from around your campsite to anchor your tent instead of tent stakes? Ultralight backpackers take a serious second look at everything they carry, from flashlights to fishing reels.

If you browse ultralight camping and thru-hiking websites and literature, you might come away with the feeling that these folks are positively obsessed with cutting every possible ounce of weight from their packs and clothes. Sleeping pads are shortened and narrowed. Some thru-hikers cut their hip belts and one shoulder strap off their already lightweight packs; others cut the tongues out of their running shoes. Some suggest sleeping on the bubble-wrap typically used in packaging, claiming it is a lighter alternative to commercial Ensolite pads.

If all this sounds a little crazy, it's important to remember that the real issue for these hikers isn't weight--it's distance. These folks may be on the trail for months at a time and intend to cover hundreds of miles. By cutting their pack weight to under 10 pounds, they figure that they can cover 20 miles or more each day with far less stress and strain on their bodies. Each extra pound they cut from their gear allows them to travel farther, and that means it won't take as many days to reach the next re-supply station. And cutting a day or two off the time it takes to reach their next source of food means they don't need to carry as much food. Since thru-hikers can routinely consume two pounds of food per person per day, cutting pack weight and making better time help cut food weight as well.

What's in it for You?

On the hiking spectrum, Rick and Hal are about as far from thru-hikers as you can get. We like to fish, read, cook, and generally relax on camping trips. Covering the highest number miles in the fewest days isn't a concern of ours. That said, we feel it's helpful to any backpacker to consider the thru-hiker's approach to ultralight travel. As we've talked with ultralight campers and looked over their literature and websites, we've discovered a perspective that's both intriguing and helpful.

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