What have we gotten ourselves into?

Ever since we rented our condo, booked plane tickets, and told our jobs we'd be leaving, we've been slowly telling our friends and family about our plan to hike all 3000km of the Te Araroa.  We usually get one of a few different responses, ranging from "Are you nuts?" to "That's awesome!" to "So, like, where will you sleep?  Will you stay at hotels along the way?" And, of course, there are always those unfortunate few who just say "Must be nice" and move on.

Despite the cosmetic differences, the majority of people that we share the news with convey two things to us: they are happy and excited that we're going on a big adventure, and they also have no way to relate to what we'll be doing.  I'm guessing this is because most people don't spend much time out in the wilderness, and can't really imagine what thru-hiking for months on end is really like.  So, I'll try to describe it a bit, at least as I see it.

There isn't anything secret or complicated about backpacking - you load everything you need to survive onto your back, and you walk into the wilderness for anywhere up to 9 or 10 days at a time.  Depending on where you are hiking, you might see a constant stream of other people on the trail, or you might go days at a time without seeing another soul.  In general, there are only a few things to think about: walking, food, water, and shelter.  It's a simple existence.  This is part of the appeal, for me at least.

For long distance backpacking, your tangible goal is to cover miles.  Don't let the miles get in the way of having fun, enjoying nature, reflecting on life, and meeting people... But at the end of the day, if you have 80 miles between you and the next town, and 4 days of food, then you better crank out some miles every day.  So, you spend most of your time walking - on leisurely trips, you might walk for 7 or 8 hours a day, on more strenuous trips you might walk for 12.  Very fit backpackers will hike for as long as the sun is up, which can be 16 hours a day in the summer.

On the Colorado Trail in 2011

All that walking takes a lot of energy, so you spend a lot of time eating too.  Breakfast in the morning, a late morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, and dinner - 5 meals a day, every day.  And often there is extra snacking in between.  The more often we eat on the trail, even if it is just a small snack, the happier we are.  It seems simple, but it took us many trips to identify that not eating enough was almost always the reason we got cranky or tired after a few hours on the trail.  We usually carry snacks that we can reach without stopping, so that we can munch on the go.

Contrary to normal, non-backpacking eating habits, you usually carry the most calorie-dense foods you can find when you are on the trail. The more fat, the better. Your body craves fat, protein, and salt when you walk all day, every day. The main concern about nutrition for thru-hikers is getting enough calories to avoid losing too much weight. Many backpackers add fat to their meals by stirring in a tablespoon or two of olive oil.  Snickers bars have been known to disappear whole into the mouths of ravenous hikers.  It changes the way you look at food, and instantly removes any guilt you have about eating anything, anything at all.

All of the food from our 2010 JMT trip

Aside from fat and calories, you need food that is easy to prepare.  For dinner, if you have to do more than boil water and mix, it's too complicated.  For lunch, spreading peanut butter on a tortilla is about as fancy as it gets.  Hiker diets can vary widely, but most people eat a lot of trail mix, Clif Bars, candy, peanut butter, instant noodles, and dehydrated or freeze-dried dinners.  It gets repetitive and monotonous quickly.  It's easy to spend hours on the trail dreaming of the gluttony that will occur when you hit the next town.  More than once, I've hallucinated bacon cheeseburgers floating down the trail in front of me.  

The stuff of hiker dreams

Water is another thing you deal with on a regular basis.  Water from rivers or streams is usually preferable, but sometimes you have to collect it from a pond (watch out for tadpoles), or, if it is really dry, small puddles or trickles.  We treat all of our water to kill any bacteria, although many backpackers just choose their water sources carefully and skip treatment when they are out in the wilderness.  Treating water is a chore, no matter how you slice it.  I've never been so appreciative of modern plumbing and the miracle of on-demand, clean, running water as I am just after a backpacking trip.

Filling up from a less-than-ideal water source

Shelter is the last big thing to worry about.  Every day you look for a nice, dry, flat spot, ideally near water.  Setting up and breaking down camp is another chore that gets old after a few rounds.  The flip side is that, because you're doing the same thing every day, you get really good at it.  You learn exactly how to pitch your tent to get the best ventilation, you learn the exact, best order in which to load your pack, and you learn to do it all in the rain, in the dark, or both.

Hard to beat campsites like this

So, with only those four things in mind, days become pretty simple.  You wake up, eat breakfast (usually cold), break down camp, walk, eat, walk, eat, walk, eat, walk, set up camp, replenish your water, make dinner, maybe write in a journal, and go to bed.  That's it.  No showers.  No internet or email.  No laundry.  No television.  No chairs.

Side note: when you live in the wilderness, there are many, many comforts of modern society that you realize you took for granted, and learn to appreciate... but the 2 things that stand out for me are chairs and running water.

I remember thinking at the time that this
log/rock combo was the height of luxury

Every few days - sometimes as few as 2, sometimes as long as 10 - you come into a town.  In town, you might stay in a hostel or campground, you usually get a shower, and you restock your food.

You too could become a thru-hiker, and get excited over the idea of
sorting out a box of food on the floor of a cheap motel room

That's about it.  Simple.  Not easy, but simple.  And that will be our life for about 150 days.  Are we crazy?  Some people think so... but I can't wait.