Every year, tents get lighter, stronger, and more sustainable. The newest batch of three-season shelters is no exception, with spacious, feature-packed options for an entire family, bombproof fortresses for pushing into the fourth season, and affordable designs for the occasional weekend warrior. The nine winners of this year’s exhaustive testing process proved themselves over and over in wind, rain, and even snow.

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The post The Best Three-Season Backpacking Tents (2025) appeared first on Backpacker.

On a backpacking trip, your campsite is the destination of the day, even if you stop to swim in an alpine lake or take in a scenic overlook along the way. It’s where you’ll cook dinner, organize your gear, and rest for the night, so you want it to be just right.

When you come across a promising spot, you’ll want to consider a few factors before pitching your tent: bugs, wind direction, wildlife paths, water sources, drainage, shade, and other factors all influence your comfort. We combed hiker forums, talked to hiking buddies, and applied our own experience to create this guide that will help you choose the perfect backcountry campsite.

Level, cleared of debris, and previously impacted

Before you unclip your pack and call it a night, know the lay of the land. In some backcountry areas, especially those that require a permit, camping is limited to designated spots. Consult a guidebook or chat with a ranger to find out where they are.

If no restrictions exist, tread lightly. Look for a spot that shows signs of prior use: a level patch of earth cleared of rocks, sticks, and other debris, or maybe a ring of stones if fires are allowed. These subtle signs tell you you’re not the first to pitch a tent there, and choosing a previously impacted site helps preserve the surrounding wilderness for the next hiker who comes through.

Close to a water source—but not too close

Camping near water mostly makes life easier. Nobody enjoys hauling H2O over long distances or hiking down a steep gully to refill their hydration bladder. It’s more convenient to have a source close by for drinking, cooking, cleaning dishes, and even cooling off. Plus, it’s scenic.

However, camping too close to a lake, river, or stream can harm fragile ecosystems and pollute the water. Leave No Trace recommends setting up camp at least 200 feet (about 70 adult steps) from any natural water source. This buffer protects riparian vegetation and prevents runoff from camp activities—like washing dishes or brushing your teeth—from entering the water. It also respects to the wildlife that depends on the water.

Another reason to leave some distance between you and the shore: mosquitos. Standing water, damp ground, and dense vegetation make the perfect breeding ground for bugs. The view might be better directly lakeside, but the bugs will be biting.

Decent drainage and air circulation

That flat spot nestled in the wildflower-dotted meadow? It might look like a dreamy place to camp, but low-lying areas like depressions, hollows, and valleys often collect water. That’s bad news in a thunderstorm or even a steady drizzle. Also: bugs.

But even if rain isn’t in the forecast, cold air tends to sink and settle in those pockets, meaning you’re liable to end up shivering and wake up to condensation in your tent.

Instead, seek slightly higher ground, where it’s more likely that water will run off, air will circulate, bugs will get blown away, and the sunrise will find you early.

Out of the sun and wind, and under the trees

A site with a bit of elevation is almost always better, but venture too high and you’ll trade comfort for exposure. Above the treeline, there’s no escaping harsh sun, strong wind, and other elements. (Note that this is pretty much unavoidable if your route takes you high into the alpine.) Look for spots with a natural windbreak, like big boulders, a small rise, or clusters of trees—live trees, no widowmakers—to keep your tent from flapping in the wind all night.

Tree cover also casts shade that prevents your tent from baking inside during the day and materials from deteriorating in UV rays. And if and when it rains, branches can deflect a surprising amount of water, keeping the ground beneath you drier than you’d expect.

Far enough away from others

You’ve found your perfect spot, but as you settle in, you see a group of backpackers searching for theirs. They barrel over toward you and, without even acknowledging your presence, drop their bags and pitch their tents. Then they’re loud all night. Don’t be those people.

Giving other campers space goes a long way toward preserving the quiet, solitude, and sense of wilderness everyone came for. If there’s truly nowhere else to go, explain your situation and ask courteously—it’s amazing how far a little communication can go.

It’s also a good reason to get to camp early. The earlier you arrive, the more options you have for a private, low-impact site—and you’ll have time to settle in before dusk, when the best spots are often taken.

The post How to Find the Perfect Backcountry Campsite appeared first on Backpacker.

From their external-frame origins, modern hiking backpacks have branched out into forms multitudinous. Today, you can tote anything from gossamer frameless sacks to heavily-padded beasts with pivoting hipbelts and airy trampoline backpanels. But just as pack designs today vary, so do their load capacities: While some backpacks may tap out at anything above an ultralight load, others can carry your gear, your pets, and, probably, your partners without so much as leaving your shoulders sore. When you’re picking a pack, that’s essential information.

Every year, our testers put dozens of packs through their paces, carrying them with different loads and across a wide variety of terrain to figure out how they perform. But no two hikes are the same, and making apples-to-apples comparisons between how packs carry is difficult with just field testing. To get more information about how different popular backpacks transfer load between the hips and shoulders, we asked Outside Gear Test Editor Adam Trenkamp to devise a lab test to measure them directly. In this video, he walks you through how we got the data in this year’s pack test.

Transcript

Hey there, I’m Adam Trenkamp, the lab test editor here at the Outside Lab in CU Denver. Today we’re going to talk to you about backpacking packs and specifically the load capacity of packs.

So in the lab, we like to look at everything with our gear, and one of the things we’re going to look at with packs is load capacity and effective load. So, when you wear a pack and you have a whole bunch of weight to keep you out in the backcountry for one night or 15 nights or, you know, six months if you’re doing a thru-hike, the hip belt is meant to carry a part of that weight. A lot of times what you’ll hear is the 80/20 rule. So 80 percent of the weight in your pack should be on your hips, 20 percent on your shoulders. That’s going to shift as you walk throughout the day and you hike, or even as you load your pack a little bit differently. But the theory stands: you should have more weight being held on your hips than on your shoulders.

So when we test for effective load, what we look for is when does too much of the weight slip past the hip belt and start to go on the shoulders, and that’s the effective load for each pack. Some packs are designed to carry more weight than others, and we want to find out which ones those are and how much weight each pack can carry appropriately.

Alright, let’s see how effectively Steve carries some weight here. We’re going to call him Steve. That’s his name for today.

That wasn’t very effective.

So to test the effective load of the packs, we use these flexible force sensors that plug into the computer via some USB cables here. So they read the force as it pushes down through the pack. To make sure we get the force around the whole pad when the backpack pushes down, we 3D printed some little knobs you can see stuck on top of the pad. That lets us read all four corners of the force sensor and make sure we’re getting a good representation of the weight through the shoulder pad.

So once we get our force sensor set up on our mannequin, we grab a pack and we get set up. You can see with some lines we’ve marked out where the top of the hip bones are for our mannequin. We use that to get our hip belt aligned with every pack.

Hip belt set. Alright, now we tighten our shoulder straps.

Once our backpack is fit, we go ahead and hook our force sensors up. Once we’re plugged in, we make sure our forces seem accurate, which is basically we shouldn’t be reading much force at all with just the pack because we have an empty pack. And then we zero out our load and start from there.

So we use some sleeping pads to stuff at the bottom of the pack. Typically this is where you’re going to pack your sleeping bag or your low-weight, bulky items to help push any heavyweight to the middle of your pack. Sleeping pads give us a little extra weight at the bottom of the pack, but still allow us to stack truly heavyweight on top. So, since we’re trying to test the actual effective load of the pack, if we just stuck some really low-weight, bulky items at the bottom of the pack, we’re going to have a harder time fitting a ton of weight in here. So by using these sleeping pads, each of these are about a pound and a half, we’re able to add three pounds to the bottom of the pack to start. And now we have some support for our heavyweight.

To do the test for all these packs, we start with a 13-pound weight. We record how much is being shown on the shoulders, and then we slowly add five pounds at a time after this.

So we keep adding weight to the packs until the force sensors on our shoulders tell us that more of the weight is actually being carried on the shoulders than the hips. So once that 50 percent mark shifts—even though we want to hold the 80/20 rule with only 20 percent on the weight of the shoulders as long as we can—we keep adding weight to the test until that 50 percent mark shifts and a majority of the weight is now on the shoulders. And then that’s our effective load point. So we can look at it as, what’s the best weight, but then what’s the true effective load of where does the hip belt fail and now a majority of the weight is on your shoulders.

So me and Steve here, we’re going to keep testing, but first I think he needs a little bit of a break and I’m going to help him get out of here. So we’re going to unhook Steve from science.

And we’ll see you—oh god, Steve, that’s so much weight. We’ll see you later.

The post How Much Weight Can Popular Backpacks Handle? This Is How We Test. appeared first on Backpacker.

What does fall hiking mean to you? Here at Backpacker, we’ve each spent September putting our own spins on autumn. From taking advantage of the last gasps of lake weather to embarking on desert adventures to training for trail races, here’s a look at what we’ve been up to over the past four weeks and the gear that’s helped us do it.

Arms of Andes Alpaca Wool Sun Hoodie

$100 at Arms of Andes

I have an arsenal of sun hoodies in my closet, ranging from rugged alpine-ready models to stretchy, quick-dry numbers for all-summer use. But Arms of Andes sun hoodie may be the comfiest I’ve come across. This lightweight—160 grams per square meter—layer is made of 100 percent alpaca wool; it’s one of the softest items of clothing in my closet, with an almost silky feel. The medium cut is trim enough to layer under a shell or midlayer but long-sleeved enough that it kept my wrists covered even while I was climbing. It kept me cozy at night during a fall backpacking trip to Canyonlands National Park when temperatures dropped into the 50s, and stank far less when I peeled it off at the end of the hike.

A caveat: This layer is definitely better for some activities than others. First, it took somewhat longer to dry than the synthetics in my closet. While this wasn’t a problem on normal hikes, it did wet out on a trail run in hot temperatures. And the jury’s still out over its long-term durability, generally a weak point for pure alpaca and Merino compared to synthetics: After carrying a water-heavy backpack through the desert for three days, I did notice a pinhole or two in my hipbelt area. —Adam Roy, Editor-in-Chief

LiteAF UltraWeave 46L Curve Full Suspension Ultralight Backpack

$365 at LiteAF

In the backpacks category, shaving weight usually means sacrificing some comfort, like removing internal structure or hipbelt padding, or simplifying organization by cutting down on extraneous zippers and pockets. In my recent testing of this pack from LiteAF, I’ve found that it strikes my ideal balance by including just the right amount of comfort and organizational features while maintaining an ultralight profile. Thanks to an internal foam backpanel and aluminum stays, load lifters, padded shoulder straps, and a wide hipbelt, this pack carried loads upward of 35 pounds comfortably, even on slick, uneven terrain. My favorite feature is the cavernous stretch mesh pocket on the outside of the pack, which LiteAF claims adds 15 additional liters of capacity. I verified this claim by shoving flip flops, a water filter, a jacket, gaiters, gloves, a paper map, and an extra fuel bottle into the pocket during a 5-day backpacking trip, and never came close to tearing the mesh.
It’s also very customizable, with options to choose color, material, and size for a number of components, including whether or not to include features like side and shoulder strap pockets. My only gripe? No hipbelt pockets. —Zoe Gates, Senior Editor

Nitecore UT27 Headlamp

$55 at Nitecore

Nitecore’s UT27 solves a problem I didn’t know I had: It improves visibility in poor weather with a spectrum of off-white tones. Using the headlamp’s two top buttons, you can toggle between 3000, 4500, and 6500 kelvin colors (lower kelvin = more yellow.) In rain and fog, that 4500k light helps cut back on the blinding bounce-back of white light typical of most headlamps and flashlights. In snow, the 3000k does the same—similar to the function of yellow foglights on some vehicles. Beyond the hue control, the UT27 puts out an impressive 800 lumens for 2 ½ hours while weighing in at a reasonable 2.6 ounces. The dual-lens design gives great coverage, with crisp edges and no hotspots. My main complaint? The lowest, 100-lumen setting, is too bright for nighttime reading (although there is a red light option.)
—Benjamin Tepler, Senior Gear Editor

HydraPak SoftFlask Speed Water Bottle

$22 at REI

For the past couple of months, I’ve gone through a bit of a hydration renaissance. I’m tired of meticulously cleaning my hydration bladder, and although my trusty Nalgenes are perfect for backpacking trips, I needed something more convenient (and less bulky) for trail runs. The SoftFlask slides perfectly into my running vest chest pockets, providing easy-access hydration without sloshing around. The 42 mm bottle opening makes it easy to refill without spilling—I could even add ice easily—and it’s also compatible with 42 mm threaded backcountry water filters. Instead of unscrewing, this bottlecap flips open. It can be a little tricky to unlatch with sweaty hands, but that ensures a leak-proof drink. I’ve been using it throughout my 50k training, and it will be a vital part of my kit during my race next month. —Emma Veidt, Associate Editor

The post The Gear That Backpacker’s Editors Loved in September 2025 appeared first on Backpacker.

Ultralighters are well-known for their backpacking gear obsession. When they’re not on the trail, ultralight hikers can often be found organizing their gear shed, researching the latest products from Durston Gear, or using LighterPack to figure out how much their base weight will drop if they bring a razor blade instead of a pocket knife on their next hike.

LighterPack, which allows hikers to log packing lists and pack weights, isn’t the only organization tool used by ultralighters, but it was one of the first, and remains the most popular. Other apps and websites—and there are many to choose from—simply can’t rival the clean, intuitive user interface of LighterPack.

So when I heard about OutPack, a new web-based app that promises to do everything LighterPack can and more, I was skeptical. But after a few days of setting up my new OutPack profile, I think I’m ready to make the switch. Here’s why.

What Sets OutPack Apart?

Like other packing apps made for ultralighters, OutPack is a passion project rather than a business. It was created by Andrew Carmichael, a Scottish hiker and software engineer. It’s free to use and web-based, but it does work well on mobile.

Carmichael’s vision is to combine the packing lists of LighterPack with features to catalogue trips, add notes, mark waypoints, and upload photos. Think LighterPack mixed with Strava and Trail Journals.

To start, there are the standard gear organization features. You can create an inventory of all your gear and then add items to different packing lists. As with other packing apps, OutPack generates a graph that breaks down your pack weight into categories like shelter, sleep system, and clothing.

Those packing lists can then be added or modified for your trips. Pre-trip, there’s a handy packing checklist feature to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. After multiple trips, OutPack will provide a “gear history” that shows you how many times you’ve packed each piece of gear. This section also lets you add a cover photo, waypoints, and notes. These features aren’t exactly standouts—you can’t upload an entire album of photos here, and it certainly isn’t actual mapping software like Gaia GPS, but it’s still useful.

The pantry section stores all your food. Here, you can add things that you bring on most trips, like your favorite freeze dried meals, or Snickers bars. There’s a barcode scanner to add packaged meals easily—though it doesn’t always work. Several items I scanned popped up with inaccurate weights and calorie counts. It’s a fun feature, but probably easier to add food stats manually.

Finally, although OutPack is far from a social media platform, there are some basic search and share functions.  You can search for other users by name, and generate links to share your trips. Carmichael’s own profile is a good example of what a fully fleshed-out OutPack profile might look like. You can also elect to make your info and trips private instead.

Why I Like It

For many users of LighterPack, the simplicity of the interface is a big part of the appeal. LighterPack helps you make packing lists, and it doesn’t try to do anything else. If you’re hyper-focused on baseweight, LighterPack remains a fantastic, free-to-use tool. OutPack is also excellent as a simple packing list. The inventory and pack lists are easy to navigate, and if you’re not interested in the trips and pantry sections, these features alone make OutPack a viable LighterPack alternative.

But for myself, baseweight hasn’t been a primary concern in many years, and I’ve gotten more interested in keeping track of where I’ve been and who I’ve gone hiking with. OutPack is really good at this, and I’m hoping it will make it easier for me to jot down some quick thoughts about every trip I take. After years of hiking and gear testing, my hiking-related digital footprint does not spark joy: several packing lists and spreadsheets, half a dozen mapping and planning apps on my phone, and photos in countless folders on several different computers. OutPack can’t replace all of these things, but it can help organize some of it.

It’s especially useful if you’re planning a trip with friends. I can send them my OutPack trip, add a few links in the notes, and my buddies have a packing checklist, trail map, and trailhead directions all in one place. Afterwards, I can add a few notes to remember what happened on the trip.

Finally, OutPack is pretty easy to adopt, since it gives you options to import and export data. This is crucial, since most LighterPack users aren’t interested in recreating their packing lists from scratch. Given how easy it is to transfer your info, OutPack is worth a look, even if you’ve already crafted your perfect gear list in another app.

The post Is OutPack Better Than LighterPack? appeared first on Backpacker.

On the trail, pet peeves can seem dangerously unassuming at first. Maybe your hiking partner is fond of plant identification, or singing, or taking iPhone photos of weird bug larvae. At the trailhead, it seems cute. By mile two, it’s gotten a little old. By mile 15, you’re ready to turn around and strangle them with their own bootlaces.

The magical and terrible thing about hiking is that you get to spend a lot of concentrated quality time with your adventure buddy. If you’re well-matched, it’s great. But if they have poor trail etiquette or happen to do that one thing that drives you nuts, then you’re in for a long trip.

I’ve been the peeved party on more than one occasion. But as someone who has a lot of quirks (and therefore potentially peevish habits), I began to wonder: Am I ever the problem? Who am I unwittingly pissing off? What are the habits that most hikers drop partners over?

To find out, I posted queries to Instagram, three Reddit threads, and several groups of hiking friends. Within 24 hours, I had hundreds of answers. Many of the respondents said they’ve sworn off hiking partners altogether because so many human beings are just so goddamned annoying. Some confessed to years-long marital disputes. Others said their hiking buddies often roll in animal scat, drag them off-trail after squirrels, and tear up tent floors with their long nails. I’m only hoping this latter group is referring to dogs. If not, sign me up for the soloist camp.

I was even more surprised at how many repeat answers I got. While some people railed against specific behaviors (like vaping, snoring, or leaving fruit peels in camp), dozens mentioned the same egregious behaviors time and time again.

The 10 most common hiking partner pet peeves

Here are the 10 most common partner pet peeves—plus a little advice on how to address each issue and save your hiking relationships.

Hiking too fast (or too slow)

The peeve: The most common complaint across platforms was about pace. Some folks can’t stand slow hikers. Others are happy to amble but abhor frequent breaks. Others still can’t understand why fast hikers can’t just calm the hell down and enjoy the view. Also included in this category: the dreaded “F-you stop.” If you often wait for your slower friends to catch up to you—and then take off again as soon as they do—then you are an F-you stopper. And the Internet hates you.

The solution: Decide ahead of time whether you and your partner will hike together or separately. If at least one of you wants to hike together, honor that, and let the slower hiker walk first. That keeps the faster person in check and saves them from having to constantly look over their shoulder. If you decide to hike separately, make a plan for when (and how often) you’ll reconvene. And just cut it out with the F-you stops; nobody likes them.

Bailing at the last minute

The peeve: No one likes a buddy who changes the plan, especially at the last minute. It’s disrespectful because it leaves the remaining hiker very little time to line up a new partner.

The solution: If you have a partner who constantly bails on you, have a kind but candid conversation about how their behavior affects your ability to plan. Tell them that it’s important to you that your time feels respected. You can also ask them to be more honest with you in the future: If they can’t fully commit or aren’t 100-percent excited about a trip, they should say so right away so you can move forward.

Taking too many pictures (or identifying too many plants)

The peeve: Redditors (and many of my friends, apparently) can’t stand partners who take pictures of every little thing, especially when they stop the caravan to do so. Similar peeves: overzealous plant identification, wildlife identification, and birding. “No one cares!” one respondent put it succinctly. They’re not alone, apparently.

The solution: If your partner is a photographer, birder, or botanist, kindly let them know that you don’t give a shit. For example: “I love that you have this hobby, but I like to get lost in thought when I hike, and I don’t always have the bandwidth to engage with all your observations.” Then, give them a quota. Maybe they’re allowed two photos per day, three birding moments before lunch, or five botanical discoveries over the course of the week. And if you’re the naturalist, save your scouting for solo hikes or designated outings with like-minded friends.

Talking too much

The peeve: I was shocked at how many people said they’d dropped partners who talk too much on the trail. While some hikers like to yap on hikes, the majority of my poll respondents said they don’t like a chatty Cathy, especially when they’re trying to enjoy their nature time.

The solution: Instead of ditching your partner or snapping at them, ask if you can have an hour to yourself to listen to music, appreciate nature, or get lost in thought. Explain that this is the only time you get to experience quiet during the week, and that this sense of peace is really important to you. Most folks will respect that boundary. If they don’t? Find a new partner.

Apologizing too much

The peeve: A few respondents said they’re happy to hike with a slower or less experienced partner, but can’t stand it when that person apologizes for every little thing. It makes sense: It takes a lot of energy to reassure someone all the time, especially if you’re already moderating your pace or hiking style for them, too.

The solution: If you’re on the receiving end of all the apologies, tell your friend they get just one sorry per day. If you’re the manic apologizer, make a blanket request for forgiveness in advance of the trip, then stop there. Own your capability and keep your head held high.

Not feeding themselves

The peeve: About a dozen respondents complained of partners who never accept snack breaks, don’t eat enough, and then get hangry—thus becoming a miserable companion.

The solution: If you’re hiking, it’s your job to eat, drink, take care of your feet, and layer appropriately. Not wanting to hold up the group is natural. But if you become dehydrated, sweaty, hypothermic, blistered, or cranky, then you’re going to hold up the group far more. If you’re the peeved party, explain this with as much gentleness as you can muster. If you’re the peeve, start taking better care of yourself—even if you have to stop the group for a quick minute here and there to do so.

Complaining

The peeve: Yes, commiserating can be cathartic. But complaining about something that has no solution is grating. The outdoors can be uncomfortable, but few people want to focus on the negatives.

The solution: If your hiking partner is a complainer, tell them you’d like to keep the focus on the positive. If they can take it, tell them the negativity is bringing you down and impacting your ability to enjoy the experience. Another good trick: Anytime your partner says something negative, ask them to name three things that are going well for them right now. (This, of course, is a total chore, which can make them more likely to stop.)

Not coming prepared

The peeve: The people have spoken—and they don’t want to pick up your slack. Answers in this category ranged far and wide. Some top picks:

• When they forget a battery block and expect to use yours
• When they never research the hike details even though you shared the link
• When they ask for a bite every time you open up a new snack
• When they never bring a jacket and always expect to use yours

The solution: If your hiking partner is always using your stuff, sit them down and explain that coming unprepared is a safety risk for both of you. You’re happy to help out in a pinch, but you expect your buddy to have all their own needs accounted for. Offer to share your packing list with them ahead of time if you think that will help.

Not yielding to uphill traffic

The peeve: Poor hiking etiquette can be embarrassing—whether that’s taking up the whole trail, stepping on fragile alpine tundra or desert crust, or barging past the uphillers when you’re on the descent. Experienced hikers want partners who know the rules of engagement.

The solution: Most people with poor etiquette simply don’t know the rules. Ask your hiking partner whether they’ve heard about trail right-of-way. If they say no, gently explain that downhill hikers should always yield to uphill hikers. Bikers should yield to hikers of all kinds, and everyone should yield to horses.

Not helping around camp

The peeve: You do all the planning, all the driving, most of the packing, or all of the camp chores, and your good-for-nothing partner never even offers to help out.

The solution: If you’re a new hiker, understand that backpacking comes with a long chore list. Anytime you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be doing—or notice your partner doing something for the group—ask them how you can help. If you’re the experienced hiker and your partner is clueless, delegate: “I’ll set up the tent and filter water if you make dinner and hang up the bear bag.”

Honorable mention pet peeves

Some pet peeves weren’t common but still bear mentioning—especially because some of them are pretty dang funny.

• “Your partner crop dusting in your face all day.” —Alyssa Lieb
• “When they don’t realize you’re sucking wind and want a full-blown conversation.” —Angela Crampton
• “When people cotton-shame on short hikes.” —Tyler Kempney
• “Anyon who uses bear bells.” —Anonymous
• “People who insist they can’t take the tent down until it’s fully dry—which might be 10:00 AM.” —Jesse Crocker
• “When they need to cathole and take forever.” —Stef Kuo
• “When they spend the whole time telling you about hiking with someone else and why it’s better.” —Anonymous
• “When your fitter, asshole partner doesn’t wait for you and gets a mile ahead, like you just carpooled together to do separate solo hikes for some reason instead of to enjoy the camaraderie of a shared experience and conversation, DAN.” —Kevin Corrigan, who assures us that Dan is a pseudonym
• “Checking texts while walking behind.” —Eric Henderson
• “When your friend holds out her trekking poles horizontally so no one can pass.” —Heather Grady
• “Wearing strong scents. I don’t want to smell your cologne, buddy.” —Anonymous
• “Getting stabbed in the Achilles with trekking poles.” —Anonymous

The post 10 Things Your Hiking Partner Hates About You appeared first on Backpacker.

As a lifelong solo hiker who only occasionally, and very reluctantly, agrees to share the trail with anyone save my wife and dog, I used to scoff at the notion of organized hiking groups.

Matter of fact, I have often remarked that the only reason I pay any attention to the publicized itineraries of the hiking clubs that operate in my neck of the woods is so I can adjust my personal trajectory to put as many miles as possible between us. Visions of 20 people trudging along like a backcountry conga line have always made me wince.

Well, to the shock and dismay of those who know me, a couple months ago, I decided to join two hiking clubs.

I feel compelled to point out that I am hardly misanthropic. I am a gregarious, social individual who enjoys swapping tales with my fellow outdoor enthusiasts, most of whom also are solo hikers. It’s just that I prefer that the venue for that tale-swapping be in a bar or around a campfire.

My preference for solo hiking is largely based on practicalities: I don’t have to wait at the trailhead for my perpetually tardy friends. I can hike at my own pace and wander as far as I feel like it without having to take into consideration the inclinations of others. More than that, though, trail time in my little world is “me time.”  It’s when I exhale life’s various vexations and let my mind wander unfettered, which is more challenging when in the company of others.

So, why did I decide to take the hiking-club leap?

On the most practical level, I have planned a week-long backpacking trip in Africa that, because of a complex web of regulations and logistical challenges, I will do as part of a 16-person guided tour.

But how does hiking with 16 perfect strangers actually work? How do you determine who goes first and who follows in what order in the conga line? How do you conduct chitchat when huffing and puffing and you’ve got your nose rubbing against the pack of the person in front of you? What about when you need to pass gas or take a leak? I need to figure that stuff out—as much as possible in my own backyard—before I head to Africa.

There’s more to my decision to join the conga line. I am reaching a point in life (I turn 70 on my next birthday) where my social circle is rapidly shrinking. People I once met for post-hike beers (and the occasional hike) have moved away, throttled back on their bar visits or, well, died. I have done quite a bit of research on the keys to happy, fulfilling longevity, and near the top of every list is maintaining an active social life.

I know there are many options for a man of my advanced years. I could join a knitting group, but I’d likely have to watch my language as I fumbled with a basic garter stitch. Or I could join not one but two hiking groups, each of which gathers once a week.

As reluctant as I was to take that leap, at least I knew beforehand that I would have something in common with my fellow members: hiking. With any luck, I would meet people who, like me, are inclined to visit the local tavern for a long-winded, post-hike BS session.

I have gone on six group hikes so far, and have been pleasantly surprised. These groups have been together for years and they have their organizational and social-dynamic ducks in a row. Each group has a leader who chooses that week’s destination, some of which are long and arduous, while others short and benign. The members know each other well enough that on-trail stratification is established but not set in stone. Sure, people naturally hike close to those they know best, but there is intermingling, with folks making a concerted effort to get to know their fellow hikers.

Something I had not thought about beforehand was that, when you hike in a group, you get access to the expertise of the individual members. On my very first group hike, we traversed the scarred remains of a recent massive wildfire. Had I been by myself, I would have walked along thinking nothing more profound than, “wow, that’s a lot of scorched trees.” But two of the group members are retired Forest Service employees who described the dynamics of that fire, how it moved along the ridgeline, and how it toasted certain species of trees but passed others by.

On another hike, with wildflowers lining the trail, one of my fellow hikers talked about how different blooms attract certain types of hummingbirds, while other blooms are more likely to be pollinated by bees or bats. I have hiked on that particular trail dozens of times and never once pondered pollination.

The members of both hiking clubs have been a joy to meet. My fellow hikers are active people who have traveled the world, done amazing things, and have a far greater understanding of on-trail group dynamics than I do. They know how to interact while hiking. I have even been shown a couple of trails I did not know about.

Many of the members are inspirational to me—a decade or more older than I am and still taking delight at the notion of carrying a pack up and down mountains for hours on end.

One group usually meets for lunch at a local restaurant after the hike. The other group pulls out camp chairs at the trailhead, pops a few beers, and shoots the breeze for an hour or so. Not exactly the same as gathering post-hike at a watering hole or around a campfire, but close enough.

This is not to say that my inclination toward solo hiking has been waylaid. Not by a long shot. But I will join each group whenever their proposed itineraries interest me. And I will look forward to those forays.

The notion of joining a knitting club is now officially on hold.

The post I Used To Avoid Group Hikes. Here’s Why I Joined A Hiking Club Anyway. appeared first on Backpacker.

“Luxury gear” means different things to different backpackers. To some, it’s a camp pillow, a pair of lightweight camp shoes, or a sleeping pad that’s just a little more plush than it needs to be. Others get a little more ambitious. A disco ball, lobster tails, and a live cat are among the stranger items our editors have carried.

Well, you may not need to worry about these luxury items running off, but some of them are well outside the norm. We polled three of our editors, Editor-in-Chief Adam Roy, Senior Gear Editor Ben Tepler, and Associate Editor Emma Veidt, about the totally unnecessary objects that, as often as not, find their way into their packs. Here’s what they had to say.

Transcript

Adam: Hey everybody, I’m Adam Roy, editor in chief of your favorite magazine Backpacker, and today we are talking about luxury gear. Now when I say luxury gear, I’m not talking about a plush sleeping pad or an extra warm sleeping bag or your favorite pillow. I am talking about the stuff you genuinely do not need to bring, but that makes your trip so much better because you do. I’m here with my colleagues Emma Veidt and Ben Tepler. Emma, do you want to show us what you brought to talk about?

Emma: Sure. So, Summit beers are already their own type of luxury, but I like classing it up a little more with a summit cocktail [from The Cocktail Box Co.]. So this is a box that kind of has all the fixings for a Moscow mule that I got through the cocktail box company. Inside, there’s ginger syrup, lime juice, grapefruit bitters, lemon bitters, cocktail picks, a muddler spoon, and a coaster, even. If you cared about creating a ring on a rock or something.

Adam: I’m just gonna say you don’t want a ring on your rock

Emma: Exactly. This is for classy people here. And on the inside, you open this up, pour it into a glass, and you can add whatever vodka or like soda water, if you need any non-alcoholic mixins, that’s totally fine. I really enjoy them on backpacking trips, camping trips, even a day hike, this would be kind of fun to spice up. Yeah, it’s one of my favorite luxury items.

Adam: The ingredients in this box, are they all mixed together, or do you actually get to like bartend and mix all your, all your mixins in?

Emma: It’s pretty much all in one, which is convenient with and I think it’s probably better off for the taste. This, is a mix of ginger juice, sugar, some other extracts, and you just kind of pour it all in.

Adam: So important question here, do you actually need the box then, or could you just bring a packet?

Emma: I think you could just bring the packet, but the box is so classy, and it even had a little label, so I like the box. And it keeps it, honestly, you probably do need the box because this has liquid in it, and it could puncture. So I think the box does keep it from spilling on the inside of your bag.

Adam: Do you have a favorite cocktail box flavor?

Emma: I think you can get old fashioned, but I think anything with brown liquor like whiskey or, you know, anything like that, I think that’s disgusting. So if you had bad taste buds, get a, you could get an old fashioned, but I’m very classy. I like Moscow mules.

Adam: Ben, do you like do you like a campsite beverage? Are you a cocktail kind of guy, beer guy, seltzer, what do you do?

Ben: Oh, in the backcountry, it’s rare. I mean, if it was available, I would certainly take a backcountry cocktail, and I think I’m, I think I’m one of those brown cocktail kind of people that Emma was talking about. I would for sure go for an old fashioned something like that, given that you can have that, you can have that on your own.

Emma: I won’t be sharing that with you.

Ben: Personally, I’m a seltzer man myself. I’ll also take any kind of powdered drink in the backcountry—Tang, whatever. But that does beg the question, what are you supposed to do while you are enjoying your beverage? And I think I have the answer here.

This is Outside Inside Backpack Cornhole. It is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a miniature version of the popular bar or yard game that you can fit in your backpack and take with you to any place you may be camping. And I have done that several times this summer. I brought this rafting with me, I brought it camping with me, Easy to carry, easy to set up. I had a little bit of a harder time convincing people to play with me, but that’s another story.

So let me give you a look at what these look like. This is an older version of the set, I think the newer one’s made of plastic, it’s maybe a little bit heavier but a little more compact. You can still get this wooden version if you know where to look. It’s about a 12 inch long board, hole about the size of a small apple to give you a sense of scale. It has two little legs that pivot down so you can set it up like normal. It also comes with a set of miniature beanbags.

Now, there is an issue here with size and coordination. Cornhole is normally a game you play while you’re drinking. And if you imbibe a little too heavily, maybe pop a couple of those cocktail boxes, it does actually get quite hard to hit your target. I have bad luck when I’m sober, but this is a really great way to kill some time at camp, especially if you’re like me and you don’t like to sit around very much.

I know some people like to bring cards to play with friends around a campfire or at night. Personally, I hate having to take the time to argue over what we’re going to play and teach somebody in the group the rules cause nobody knows all the rules to every game. This is a great low effort way to kind of socialize on a more relaxed trip, or even like an ultra light one, whatever, stick it in your pack.

Adam: Have you taught your kids how to play cornhole?

Ben: I have shown them the sets and the older one pretended it was a skateboard and stood on it, which is probably why I had to glue it together last week, but so far no, I have not gotten the rules through to him.

Adam: Have you made any trail friends with your cornhole set?

Ben: I’ve tried, so far I have not made many. But every once in a while I find somebody who’s an enthusiast like me, and that’s priceless.

Emma: That does sound kind of fun because in the winter, when you’re done hiking, pretty early, I’m not ready to go to bed at 6 p.m., you know, I could turn the headlamp on and, just throw, throw some cornhole balls, whatever they’re called.

Adam: See, Emma, this is the difference between Southern California and Colorado, because if I tried to play this during a backpacking trip in the winter, I’d either freeze my fingers off or lose the beanbags in the snow.

Ben: Yeah, I definitely, if given the choice, would be in fetal position in my sleeping bag and not playing cornhole.

Adam: Now here’s an interesting question. You could play it in your tent. Maybe that’s a use case? You bring a bigger tent, like two people bring a 3-person tent just so you have enough room inside to play cornhole.

Ben: That’s a real luxury packing job.

Adam: You can have like indoor games.

Ben: Yeah, just bring an entire base camp so that you can play cornhole inside.

Adam: I feel like you’re being sarcastic here, Ben, and I don’t appreciate it.

Ben: Sorry.

Adam: Instead of questioning the way I live my life, how about you tell me about the item you brought?

Ben: OK, I, I would love to. My luxury item is a Kindle Paperwhite. Many of you know about them. Many backpackers take them, but for people who prioritize weight savings, they’re a little bit divisive. I think mine weighs around, maybe 6 ounces or 5.5 ounces, which is like a little less than my iPhone. So there is some weight penalty and people say you could just read on your iPhone app, and that’s true, but reading on your iPhone for long periods is annoying, I find, and an having your screen turned on even for like a half hour straight at night, really sucks your battery. Like if you’re depending on it for other uses like as a camera or for your Garmin app or for like a Gaia GPS mapping for example.

So I love the Kindle, [with] it being much larger than my phone and comfortable to read and hold. And having less blue light, which is great when I’m trying to wind down at night. It is IPX8 rated, which means that I can drop it during a stream crossing and not have to worry about ruining it.

The battery lasts a very long time, I mean. We’re talking about months rather than weeks here, which is great, because not only can I read books for pleasure without worrying about draining my phone battery, but I can also upload, guidebooks for wilderness areas and trails and always have that, for planning the next day or relying on it even if my like iPhone died and I was like, what’s ahead? How can I get to the next trailhead? I can look at my Kindle guidebook, and some folks even upload like PDFs of topographic maps to have as a backup on their Kindle, although it’s a little unusual.

Adam: And for our viewers who don’t know about waterproof ratings, IPX8 is pretty serious. That means theoretically you could read it underwater for about what, 1 hour, 3 hours, something like that. [Editor’s note: The actual time an IPX8-rated product can survive underwater varies, but at least 30 minutes.]

Ben: Yeah, I’m not quite sure. I can’t remember what it is. It’s full immersion though for some period of time, so it’s pretty good. Like I read this, I read this by the beach and by the pool and still going six years in, however long I’ve had it.

Adam: So you’re talking about putting guidebooks on this thing, Ben, that begs the question, how durable is it?

Ben: I abuse my Kindle in the back country. I throw it in my backpack, usually at the bottom of the pack. Without really thinking about how I’m packing it, and it often gets scraped and crushed and dragged, and like there’s hardly a single scratch on this thing. So yeah, it’s one of my most durable items in the backcountry, honestly.

Adam: What are you reading right now? Let’s do a little little book club. What do you got on that Kindle?

Ben: Yeah, I have a lot on this Kindle. I just finished reading a book called The Book of Love, that I really enjoyed. And other than that, like when I’m backpacking, if I don’t instantly fall asleep when my head hits the pillow, I like to read like, fantasy adventure books, Lord of the Rings trilogy, that kind of thing, just, it’s the mindset I’m in.

Adam: Nice. Well, now that we’ve established what a big nerd Ben is, I think we’re good to sign off here. Thank you so much for watching. If you want to learn more about items both luxury and ultralight, you can go to www.backpacker.com. Until then, I’m Adam Roy, thanks for watching.

 

The post 3 ‘Useless’ Backpacking Luxuries That Are Actually Worth the Weight appeared first on Backpacker.

When a bug lands on your shoulder, most people’s instinct is to flick it away. For some, insects are terrifying; for others, they’re just an annoyance—mosquitoes leave itchy welts, while spiders star in many of our nightmares. But for 2 billion people around the world, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, bugs aren’t pests at all: They’re food.

Small as they are, insects are dense in nutrients and offer high levels of protein, amino acids, healthy fats, vitamins, and minerals like zinc and iron. “They’re like nature’s little micro vitamins,” says Aly Moore, founder of Bugible, advocate for the insect industry, and regular bug eater.

On the trail, that same creepy-crawly you’d normally swat at could be a calorie packed snack, assuming if you’re adventurous enough to taste test a grasshopper or an ant. We asked Moore which insects are safe to eat, where to find them, how to prepare them, and what they taste like.

“Backpackers can think of the landscape as a living snack bar: ants for tang, grasshoppers for crunch, grubs for fat, and even scorpions for that adventurous, soft-shell-crab vibe,” she says.

Prepared with net, jar, and open mind, these are 8 insects and arachnids you can forage on your next hike.

First, a Note On Safety and Ethics

Just like with foraging mushrooms and berries, foraging bugs comes with its own set of risks. The first rule of thumb, Moore says, is to avoid eating bugs near cities, roadsides, and farmland, where the chance of chemical and pesticide contamination is higher.

Next, steer clear of bugs you can’t identify or ones with weird markings, like bright colors, hair or fuzz, or strong smells—all indicators of toxicity. And lastly, cook whenever possible over a campfire or stove; heat kills parasites and bacteria while also enhancing flavor.

For people who are allergic to shellfish or crustaceans, there’s a small chance they may also react to insects because they share the same chitin protein. Start with a quick test: Rub a bit on your lips or tongue to see if you get a reaction, and if not, then go for it.

As with any other kind of foraging, take only what you’ll eat and collect in moderation.

Commonly Found Edible Bugs

1. Ants

Find: Look for anthills or ant trails near logs and rocks, especially in forests, grasslands, and deserts. Carpenter ants are common in the East and Upper Midwest, while harvester are common in the Southwest.

Harvest: Place a stick in the nest, wait for ants to climb it, then shake them into a container.

Prep: Drop into boiling water for a minute to neutralize the formic acid bite. They can also be eaten raw in small amounts if you don’t mind the acidic taste. Or toss a few into water, then strain them out for a natural lemonade flavor infusion.

Taste: Citrusy or vinegary tang from their formic acid

2. Grasshoppers and Crickets

Find: Easily spot them hopping in tall grass and meadows all over the country, but especially in the Midwest prairies, Great Plains, and Southwest deserts.

Harvest: Catch by hand or use a bandana swept through the grass, and collect in a jar or box. In the mornings, they’re sluggish with dew and therefore easier to trap.

Prep: First remove their legs and wings before eating because spines can catch in the throat (like a fish bone). They taste best, according to Moore, roasted on a stick over a campfire.

Taste: Crispy like popcorn (with as much protein as beef but with far more micronutrients)

3. Beetle Larvae (June bug grubs or mealworms)

Find: Look under rotting logs, inside decayed stumps, or in leaf litter. The plump and white C-shaped grubs are usually safe, but avoid bright or hairy larvae.

Harvest: Easy to pick up by hand

Prep: Roast on stick or pan-fry until golden, and because they’re high in fat, they’ll crisp well.

Taste: Nutty, like sunflower seeds

4. Termites

Find: Break open old, hollow, rotting logs for clusters, especially in humid forests. They are less common in northern states, but common in the Southeast, Southwest, and South.

Harvest: Although tiny bugs, colonies are dense and easy to gather by the handful.

Prep: Best roasted, as the flavor intensifies with heat

Taste: Mild, nutty, and even buttery

5. Cicadas

Find: Appearing every summer across most of the country, cicadas are found in swarms on tree trunks, especially in forests and suburbs in the Appalachians through the Midwest.

Harvest: Hand pick them from swarms

Prep: Quick fry or roast their tender, soft bodies

Taste: Delicate, like asparagus or shrimp

6. Scorpions

Find: In the Southwestern states of Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and California, scorpions—technically arachnids, like spiders, not insects—hide under rocks and logs in dry washes. Use a blacklight to spot them at night.

Harvest: Use sticks, not bare hands, to handle.

Prep: Remove the stinger and venom gland (tail tip), then roast or boil. Heat neutralizes venom.

Taste: Like soft-shell crab, mild and crunchy

7. Dragonflies

Find: Across the country, you’ll find dragonflies skimming near ponds, lakes, and streams, or resting on reeds or rocks by the water. They’re common in the Pacific Northwest, Great Lakes region, and Northeast. Only harvest from clean, non-polluted water sources.

Harvest: Approach slowly and use a hat, bandana, or lightweight net to scoop them mid flight. They’re most active during warm daylight hours, but slower and easier to catch during cooler mornings or evenings.

Prep: Remove wings, then pan-fry or skewer over fire for crispy, nutty morsels.

Taste: Mild, like soft shrimp

8. Wasp and Bee Larvae

Find: Keep your eyes out for abandoned hives or nests in meadows, forest edges, and sheds or cabins. They’re common nationwide, but more so during the warmer months.

Harvest: Do not harvest from active bee colonies for ethical and environmental reasons. Only forage when nests are inactive to avoid stings. Adults are less active in the evenings or in colder weather.

Prep: Gently roast, steam, or sauté. They can be eaten alone, added to soups, or fried into patties.

Taste: Creamy and buttery, like pine nuts, and similarly high in protein and fat

The post Would You Eat These Bugs? 8 Edible Species Hikers Should Try appeared first on Backpacker.

Whether you’re stopping on a long trail or using it as a landing pad after a weekend adventure, any hiker can appreciate the draw of a good trail town. That’s where you finally get to eat a meal that’s not rehydrated, clean off your dirty outer crust, and let your legs relax for a day or two. Some trail towns really embrace the hiking community, even hosting annual festivals for them or organizing retreats during hiking season.

Even if you’re just briefly visiting, you have priorities of how you want to spend your time. Do you want to share a pizza with your hiking buddies? Get a massage? Just resupply and leave? We’ve narrowed down what four of the best trail towns in the U.S. do exceptionally well. Take this quiz to find the best one for you.

What’s the Best Trail Town for You?

What’s your favorite kind of on-trail scenery?

A. High mountains

B. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s green

C. Waterfalls

D. Desert and red rocks

What’s the first thing you find when you get into town?

A. Somewhere to stuff your face

B. The hangout spot with the other hikers

C. Shower

D. Local outfitter to fix busted gear

You’d rather stay in a …

A. Vacation rental

B. Hostel

C. Spa resort

D. Motel

What do you crave on the trail?

A. BBQ

B. Literally anything edible, washed down with beer

C. A massive plate of pancakes

D. Burgers

What’s your dream zero day?

A. Lay down in air conditioning

B. Grab a beer with fellow hikers

C. Relax—hard

D. Explore the local trails

What do you want to get out of this trail town?

A. A full resupply, a night’s sleep, and a ride back to the trail

B. A break from the monotony of the trail

C. A trip in and of itself

D. More adventure and no crowds

ANSWERS

If you answered mostly A:

Lone Pine, California: Located along Highway 395, Lone Pine is a famous stopover for all types of hikers along the Eastern Sierra, from those about to tackle the highest point in the continental U.S. to those well into their Pacific Crest Trail or John Muir Trail thru-hikes. It has everything a thru-hiker needs, from excellent BBQ to gear resupply shops to plenty of people willing to give a hitch to and from trail. Plus, those skyscraping mountain views will inspire you to get back out there.

If you answered mostly B:

Asheville, North Carolina: With close proximity to the Appalachian Trail, Mountains-and-Sea Trail, and the Blue Ridge Parkway, Asheville is an epicenter of adventure in greater Appalachia. Need a place to post up with your tramily? There are more breweries per capita here than any U.S. city. Asheville has more of a bustling urban vibe than other trail towns, but within moments, you’re back into the peaceful wilderness.

If you answered mostly C:

Hot Springs, Arkansas: Stop and stay a while in this quirky southern town with lots of baseball, gangster, and Pentecostal history. Because of the natural thermal waters in the surrounding Ouachita Mountains, Hot Springs has plenty of spas and relaxation resorts to soothe your hiking muscles. Take a side quest to Hot Springs National Park for dense forests and ancient thermal springs. Want a full-day adventure in the national park? Hike the 10-mile Sunset Trail. Want an even longer adventure? Hot Springs is a quick drive to the 220-mile Ouachita National Recreation Trail.

If you answered mostly D:

Escalante, Utah: Isolated, beautiful, and expansive. This town outside Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument is the perfect place to drop off your stuff and go explore some more. Take a trip through red-rock trails lined with hoodoos, arches, rivers, and, if you have permits, Arizona’s famous Wave. Need to refresh some gear? There are two outfitters in Escalante. For a town of 800 people, that’s pretty impressive.

The post Quiz: What’s the Best Trail Town for You? appeared first on Backpacker.

Backpacking emergencies are like riddles in real time: Hurt in the woods, armed with only a stick, a flashlight, and a strap—what’s your move? Every hiker should be ready for survival scenarios like this, where a little creativity and resourcefulness can make all the difference.

We talked to avid hikers and first-aid experts about how to use common items that are probably already in your backpack to help you rig a fix that keeps you or your hiking buddy moving—or at least feeling more comfortable—until you can make it off the trail for further care.

You’ll get hands-on practice with these different uses in a Wilderness First Aid or First Responder course, which we highly recommend. This story is not a substitute for that important training—it’s meant to highlight the many ways everyday items in your backpack can be put to use.

Splints and Braces

Twisted an ankle or broke a finger? You’ll want to stabilize the joint to prevent further damage with a splint or a brace, something that’s rigid enough to provide support but adjustable enough to accommodate swelling. Bailey Batchelor, who teaches wilderness first aid, says trekking poles and ground pads can be used as leg splints. Add padding with extra layers like a puffer.

For smaller joints, such as an ankle or a finger, look around you. When Kylie Yang broke her finger on the Wind River High Route, she needed something softer than a stick because her finger was so sensitive but she needed to keep it stable to use her hand. “Saw a bush root sticking out of the ground and was like, wait a minute,” she recalls. “So much softer, less nubby.”

Wrap it with gauze, duct tape, or medical tape to keep it secure against your skin.

Bandages 

An open wound in the wild invites all sorts of bacteria. After cleaning it with water and a disinfectant, which you hopefully have on-hand in your first-aid kit, protect it from the elements. Batchelor recommends small fabrics such as bandanas or pack towels. For blisters, they recommend duct tape because it will provide a barrier against friction and pressure. It’s best to apply it as soon as the blister starts forming, otherwise it’s going to be more painful peeling it off.

Slings

Carrying a heavy backpack makes shoulder, elbow, and arm injuries all the more painful. In the event of something like a dislocation, sprain, or break, a sling can prevent further movement and pain. Fashion a sling out of a jacket, pack towel, blanket, bandana, or even a soft empty pack tied around the neck. If you’re hiking with a friend, have them carry your pack.

Warm Compress

In lieu of a willing hiking buddy giving you a massage, a warm compress can be used to relieve muscle pain. After Natalia Lutterman carried a friend’s gear while backpacking in Nepal, she needed to ease the pain in her shoulder. “I used my backup socks dipped in boiling water, wrung out, and placed in a Ziploc baggie as a warm compress,” she says. Dirty socks, underwear, or light layers will work just as well. Might as well put the weight to good use.

Hypo Wraps

When someone is immobilized in the backcountry, they’re at a greater risk of getting cold. Whether you’re just trying to keep them warm while you wait for a rescue or you’re fighting more serious hypothermia, you can make a hypo wrap out of many things in your pack. Batchelor suggests laying out a tarp and ground pad to elevate the person off the ground and slow heat transfer—which can happen even on a warm day.

The most basic strategy is the burrito method: First wrap the person in plastic or foil sheet (like an emergency blanket) as a vapour barrier, with a warm water bottle or chemical heating pad against their chest. Next wrap them in a sleeping bag, then wrap the tarp around the whole bundle.

Not Recommended: Improvised Tourniquets

In almost every class Batchelor teaches, students ask about improvising tourniquets to control bleeding. However, Batchelor doesn’t recommend them. “People want to use belts and ropes or torn fabric with sticks to create tourniquets, but those create tissue damage and even amputations because of the unequal circumferential pressure,” they say.

The post 5 Trail Hacks That Turn Your Gear Into a First-Aid Kit (and One You Should Never Use) appeared first on Backpacker.

The best part of visiting a new-to-you national park? Lacing up your hiking boots and setting out on an epic hiking trail, of course. America’s public lands are havens for nearly every kind of ecosystem, places where desert wanderers and forest bathers alike can find solace. But with 63 different Congressionally-designated national parks, picking your next big trek can be a challenging feat.

I visited every national park and wrote about the experience in my memoir Feral: Losing Myself and Finding My Way in America’s National Parks. Here’s my comprehensive list of favorite national park hikes, from multi-week thigh busters to mellow strolls in the shade.

*All distances listed below are round-trip.

Western Parks

Panorama Trail to Little Yosemite Valley

Park: Yosemite

Length: 14.4 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

When first-time visitors to Yosemite ask me about the best bang-for-your-buck backpacking trip, I point them in the direction of this lesser-known gem that leaves from Glacier Point. It showcases so much of what makes this national park special, in a relatively uncrowded overnight trek that goes hard on views. Beginning with a mellow descent to thundering Illilhouette Falls, the trail showcases vistas of Half Dome, North Dome, and Stoneman Meadow, all before crossing the footbridge at roaring Nevada Falls. The hike can also be amended to an 8-mile point-to-point that ends in Yosemite Valley, but I think this out-and-back to the infamous Little Yosemite Valley, right under Half Dome, is well worth the effort (plus you won’t have to shuttle cars).

Grand Wash Trail

Park: Capitol Reef

Length: 4.7 miles

Difficulty: Easy

My first trip to Capitol Reef blew my mind because of the incredible quality of trails on offer, nearly all of which lacked the crowds of Utah’s Arches and Zion. Grand Wash is a great family-friendly option within the park, showcasing enormous striated sandstone cliffs as hikers navigate a gravelly ravine. Tack on a side quest to Cassidy Arch if you’d prefer some extra miles.

Harding Icefield Trail

Park: Kenai Fjords

Length: 8 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Many of Alaska’s storied national parks require travelers to navigate complicated terrain entirely off-trail, but this heart-pumping 8-mile journey along the Exit Glacier is a rare exception. Keep your eyes peeled for curious marmots and mountain goats as you ascend over 3,500 feet to the frigid white expanse of the Harding Icefield.

Hall of Mosses Trail

Park: Olympic

Length: 1 mile

Difficulty: Easy

Sure, it’s one of the most popular trails in the park, but this quick 1-mile loop gets visitors into the heart of the spellbinding Hoh Rainforest, one of the only temperate rainforests on the planet. Take your time strolling amongst the ancient moss-covered maples as you traverse the short but sweet trail and try to spot a banana slug. Pro tip: Extend your Hoh Rainforest journey on the less-traveled Hoh River Trail, which showcases the same, verdant forest and far fewer crowds.

Mosaic Canyon

Park: Death Valley

Length: 4 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Once you’ve braved the bumpy 2.5-mile road to get to the trailhead (don’t worry; 2WD cars are fine), get ready for an arid slot canyon adventure. Mosaic Canyon is named for the colorful volcanic breccia which makes up its rocky cliffs, and hikers here will have a blast navigating a series of tight washes and dry falls for 2 miles before it’s time to turn around.

Grinnell Lake Trail

Park: Glacier

Length: 3 or 8 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

The typically 8-mile trek up to Grinnell Lake is a Glacier National Park classic, and you can shorten it to a 3-mile hike by taking two boat shuttles across Swiftcurrent Lake and Lake Josephine, respectively. The cascading Grinnell Falls, Salamander Glacier, and massive 8,851-foot Mt. Grinnell all frame this glittering alpine lake.

Sliding Sands Trail

Park: Haleakalā

Length: 18 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Hike straight into a Technicolor volcanic crater on this overnight trek across Haleakalā. Most people make it a point-to-point journey, beginning at the higher-elevation Keonehe‘ehe‘e trailhead and strolling for 11 miles to Halemau’u, where they shuttle a car or hitchhike back up to the starting point. Want to make it an out-and-back overnight? Set up camp at Palikū, a primitive campground only accessible by trail. Along the way, you can witness endangered silversword plants and brilliant splotches of color at Pele’s Paint Pot.

Mills Lake and Glacier Gorge

Park: Rocky Mountain

Length: 7.6 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

You’ll have to nab a coveted wilderness permit to trek this incredible high-altitude trail out to Mills Lake and Glacier Gorge, but the extra effort grants you a stunning corner of the Rocky Mountains. Less than 1 mile into the trek, find incredible views of powerful Alberta Falls. Before setting up camp, plan to hang at Mills Lake for a bit, savoring the phenomenal views of Longs Peak and its mesmerizing Keyboard of the Winds rock formation. A little over a mile past the lake sits a single, reservable backcountry campsite called Glacier Gorge. Pro tip: Set an alarm to wake up early on March 1, the date Rocky Mountain’s backcountry permits go on sale.

Blue Mesa Trail

Park: Petrified Forest

Length: 1 mile

Difficulty: Easy

Most of the painted desert of the American Southwest has rust and crimson hues, but not so with the Blue Mesa Trail, which showcases a rare example of blue and purple badlands hills. Made up of bluish bentonite clay, which is made of ancient mudstone deposits, these striking mounds also come with colorful petrified wood formations.

Oolah Valley High Route

Park: Gates of the Arctic

Length: 32 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Truly intrepid backpackers who love a challenge and hate crowds should make a beeline for Gates of the Arctic. One of the least-visited national parks in the nation, this mountainous expanse of rivers and tundra sits entirely above the Arctic Circle. Alaska Alpine Adventures is one of the few companies that dares to guide this week-long trek that journeys from Summit Lake to Oolah Lake, meandering through some of the most expansive (but marshy) scenery on the planet along the way.

Bristlecone Trail

Park: Great Basin

Length: 2.8 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Some trails are mountain-centric while others are more tree-centric. The Bristlecone Trail is a special example of a path that fully embraces both, beginning at the high-elevation Bristlecone Trailhead. Along the way, hikers will glean better and better views of 13,063-foot Wheeler Peak, ultimately landing at the aptly-named Wheeler Bristlecone Grove. This alpine forest contains some of the oldest living beings on Earth, so be sure to slow down and enjoy the once-in-a-lifetime experience of craning your neck up at a 3,000-year-old conifer.

Queen’s/Navajo Combination Loop

Park: Bryce Canyon

Length: 3 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

There’s nothing better than getting up-close-and-personal with the tangerine-tinted hoodoos at Bryce Canyon. See why the park’s namesake farmer, Ebenezer Bryce, called the area “a hell of a place to lose a cow” on this 3-mile trip around its quirky sandstone formations, which can resemble colorful jellyfish and melting ice cream cones.

Fairy Falls to Imperial Geyser

Park: Yellowstone

Length: 8.8 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Few visitors to the world’s first national park do more that hop out of their cars to snap photos at famous viewpoints, but if you’re willing to strap on your bear spray and go for a hike, this 8.8-mile trip won’t disappoint. Just over 2.5 miles into the trip, hikers will hear the sky-high cascade of 200-foot-high Fairy Falls. Turn around here or continue strolling through lodgepole pines until you reach Imperial Geyser and its bubbling mudpots.

Grand View Point Trail

Park: Canyonlands

Length: 1.8 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Skip the crowds of Arches and explore the path less traveled at Canyonland’s Grand View Point, which sits in the Island in the Sky district. This easy out-and-back trail showcases dramatic drop-offs and rust-red cliffs as it meanders through colorful sandstone, all the way to a panoramic viewpoint (hence the trail’s name). There, you can see expanses of corrugated canyon, plus glimpses of the park’s most famous features, including the Needles district and the White Rim Road.

John Muir Trail

Park: Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia

Length: 211 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

You’ll need to plan ahead a book a permit to hike the notorious John Muir Trail (JMT), but I can personally attest that taking time off to attempt the entire trek is a life-changing experience. Tucked away in the prettiest section of California’s Sierra Nevada, this path winds up and down the Great Western Divide, passing countless 14ers and turquoise alpine lakes along the way. Don’t want to go it alone? Fan-favorite tour company Wildland Trekking just started guiding the full length of the JMT.

Savage Alpine Trail

Park: Denali

Length: 4.2 (point to point) or 8.4 miles (out and back)

Difficulty: Moderate

Sure, you can see a fair chunk of Denali’s sprawling wilderness from a transit bus, but when you’re ready to stretch your legs and get your heart rate up, head to the Savage Alpine Trail, which can be completed as an out-and-back or a point-to-point that uses the national park’s shuttle buses to return trekkers to their cars. For those completing the hike as a one way journey, start at Mountain Vista and ending at Savage River, so you’re faced with fewer steeps. Be sure to bring your bear spray, as this stunning wilderness trail meanders through rocky tundra and a few brushy areas, and grizzlies have been spotted here.

Bright Angel Trail to Bright Angel Campground

Park: Grand Canyon

Length: 19 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

For serious hikers who want to go hard in the Grand Canyon on an overnight backpacking excursion, the Bright Angel Trail to Bright Angel Campground checks all the right boxes. You’ll start on a historic stock trail and descend roughly 3,200 feet to Havasupai Garden (formerly Indian Garden), passing immense sandstone walls the color of ripe tangerines. From there, the path continues its staggering descent to the Colorado River, crossing the historic Silver Bridge before arriving at Phantom Ranch. Be forewarned, though, this exceedingly popular trek fills up early, so try to nab a wilderness permit 4 to 6 months in advance.

Tall Trees Trail

Park: Redwood

Length: 3.5 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

You’ll need to apply online for a free reservation to hike this epic 3.5-mile lollipop loop through old growth forest, but the extra effort is well worth it to saunter through the tallest trees on the planet. Descend 800 feet downhill to Redwood Creek, where enormous sempervirens (that’s a fancy word for coast redwoods) and mossy stumps await. Be sure to have plenty of water with you—the return journey is almost entirely uphill. Want to extend this trip into an overnight? Continue onto Tall Trees Access Road (a hiking and mountain biking trail) for zero-crowd backpacking, just you and the trees.

Devils Garden Trail

Park: Arches

Length: 7.9 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

In my experience, the shorter hikes to stone bridges in Arches National Park can be surprisingly crowded, and the best way to escape the throngs is on an all-day jaunt around Devils Garden. This 7.9-mile hike passes Instagram-famous arches like Double O and Landscape and offers incredible views of the La Sal Mountains.

Step House Trail

Park: Mesa Verde

Length: 0.9 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Travel back in time on the Step House Trail, the only self-guided cliff dwelling trek in Mesa Verde that doesn’t require a ticket. This Ancestral Puebloan feat of architecture was most recently lived in around 1200 AD, and history buffs will love having the chance to peruse its Basketmaker pithouses and large masonry pueblo at their own pace. The only catch? This path is only open when staffed by a supervisory ranger, typically from 9:15 a.m. to 3:45 p.m., between May 22 to October 22.

Wasson Peak via Kings Canyon

Park: Saguaro

Length: 7.8 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

For a loop hike that features nearly all of Saguaro’s top sights and sounds, check out this big loop around (and to the top of) Wasson Peak. Along the way, travelers will encounter century-old giant cacti, petroglyphs, abandoned mine shafts and, of course, incredible views of the Tucson Valley.

Watchman Trail

Park: Crater Lake

Length: 1.8 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

When people ask me what should be their first stop when they visit Crater Lake, I undoubtedly exclaim, “The Watchman Trail!” This short but sweet trek shows off some of the park’s best summer wildflowers and incredible views of Wizard Island. At the top of the hike, a circa-1933 lookout tower serves as a great snack break point.

Lost Horse Mine Trail

Park: Joshua Tree

Length: 6.2 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Wild west history, abandoned gold mines, and thousands of spiky Joshua trees can all be found on this half-day romp with 550 feet of elevation gain. Looking for a longer adventure? The 6.2-mile Lost Horse Mine Loop also begins and ends at Keys View Road, but features significantly more elevation gain and some seriously striking views of the vast Mojave Desert.

Bumpass Hell Loop

Park: Lassen Volcanic

Length: 3 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

If you’re itching to check out steamy hydrothermal features, like mudpots and fumaroles, but can’t make it all the way over to Yellowstone, check out the Bumpass Hell Loop at Lassen Volcanic. This family-friendly hike boasts gorgeous lupines, epic views of volcanic peaks, and the chance to witness bubbling hot springs at the turnaround point. Cool off after the hike by jumping into Lake Helen, which sits just across the road from the trailhead.

High Dune on First Ridge

Park: Great Sand Dunes

Length: 2.5 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

It’s rare that I feel called to label a 2.5-mile trail as challenging, but these high altitude dunes truly epitomize the “two steps forward, one step back” reality of trekking up loose sand. Beginning at about 8,200 feet above sea level, this sandy stroll crosses Medano Creek before undulating up and down until hitting the highest visible dune summit.

Congress Trail

Park: Sequoia

Length: 2.9 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

After paying a visit to the General Sherman Tree, the largest tree by volume on earth, escape the tourist crowds on this 3 mile path through some of the park’s best old growth sequoia groves. Saunter through dappled light and take in the majesty of 2,000 to 3,000-year-old conifers as you loop around the park’s Giant Forest area.

Taggart Lake, Bradley Lake Loop

Park: Grand Teton

Length: 5.6 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Bring your bear spray and score sky-high views of The Grand and its craggy neighboring peaks on this fabulous dayhike that’s less than 30 minutes from Jackson Hole. Along the way, hikers can splash in a pristine duo of alpine lakes and, in fall, photograph glowing aspens. Worried about grizzlies? Jackson Hole Eco Tours has an amazing team of guides for those who’d prefer to have an expert naturalist tag along.

Kīlauea Iki Trail

Park: Hawaii Volcanoes

Length: 3.3 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

It’s rare to get an up-close look at pioneer plants going to work on a solidified lava field, but the Kīlauea Iki Trail offers hikers a chance to experience the dynamic landscape of Hawaii first hand. Snap selfies with the frilly red blooms of native ohia lehua trees and wander across a deep black basin of porous lava rock. Finish off the loop with a steep climb into the jungle and listen for the call of the koa’e kea.

Pelican Bay Trail

Park: Channel Islands

Length: 4 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Only accessible to Island Packers passengers with either a guide or designated naturalist, this trail begins at Prisoner’s Harbor and ventures deep into the Nature Conservancy’s land within Channel Islands. On the way to the path’s namesake rocky beach, keep your eyes peeled for tiny island foxes who like to meander through tall grass.

Scout Lookout via West Rim Trail

Park: Zion

Length: 3.6 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Pro tip: you don’t have to score a competitive permit for Angels Landing to trek up the first chunk of the hair-raising hike. Take one of Zion’s free shuttles to The Grotto and hop onto the West Rim Trail to switchback between gigantic rust-red cliffs and scraggly pinyon pines. At the turnaround point, you’ll glean stellar views of Zion Canyon and the chance to watch brave hikers attempt the notorious, permitted summit hike up Angels Landing proper.

Midwestern Parks

Painted Canyon Nature Trail

Park: Theodore Roosevelt

Length: 1 mile

Difficulty: Easy

Sure, I almost stepped on a rattlesnake that was laying in the middle of the path when I hiked this trail back in 2020, but it was still my favorite trek in Theodore Roosevelt. Stroll past striated badlands in a variety of vivid oranges and pinks and you’ll begin to understand why this landscape directly inspired “the conservation president” to bolster the NPS.

Scoville Point / Stoll Memorial Trail

Park: Isle Royale

Length: 4.7 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Fans of boreal forest and sweeping, rocky coastlines should skip the Windigo port and make a beeline for Isle Royale’s Rock Harbor. Not only are there lakeside campsites and an adorable historic inn, but there’s also the opportunity to hike out to Scoville Point on the Stoll Memorial Trail. Intrepid wanderers on this path will feel like they’re standing at the edge of the earth as the deep blue water of Lake Superior churns all around them.

Brandywine Gorge Loop

Park: Cuyahoga Valley

Length: 1.5 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Fall visitors to Cuyahoga Valley won’t want to miss this easy dayhike featuring the park’s most famous waterfall. Amble through a gorge of Berea sandstone and shale, rare in otherwise flat Ohio, and take in colorful maples and black locust trees on this kid-friendly trek.

Notch Trail

Park: Badlands

Length: 1.5 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

You can gain the best views of South Dakota’s Badlands by hoofing it uphill for only a few dozen feet. The Notch Trail offers the opportunity to climb a rustic log ladder to take in the sheer enormity of the park’s colorful hills. Go at sunrise for cooler temperatures and a dreamy, lit-up canyon.

Ellsworth Rock Gardens

Park: Voyageurs

Length: 0.5 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Voyageurs is more famous for its sapphire lakes and conifers topped with shrewd bald eagles than it is for its hiking trails, but this half-mile loop around the historic Ellsworth Rock Gardens is not to be missed. Explore the life’s work of self-taught artist Jack Ellsworth at this handmade expanse of flower beds and stone sculptures that was built in the 1940s, ’50s, and ’60s. Since the death of its namesake artist in 1974, the Park Service has helped maintain this special nook for future generations.

Lookout Point and Centennial Trail Loop

Park: Wind Cave

Length: 4.5 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Be prepared to witness enormous bison ambling across the Great Plains on this half-day loop around Wind Cave’s grassy prairie. Though the park is most famous for its namesake cavern, from which the Lakota people believe all life emerged, it’s also one of the best-preserved examples of a mixed grass prairie ecosystem that our country has left. Keep your eyes peeled for pronghorn antelope and playful prairie dogs as you make your way around the gently rolling hills of this hike.

Cowles Bog Trail

Park: Indiana Dunes

Length: 4.7 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Plant peepers, take note. The Cowles Bog Trail is so revered for its plant diversity that it was named a National Natural Landmark in 1965. It’s one of the best places in Indiana Dunes to check out the park’s incredible biodiversity, ranging from marshes and swamps to black oak savannas and sandy freshwater beaches. Be sure to bring your swimsuit on this hike—the highlight is Lake Michigan’s gorgeous shoreline in the middle of the journey.

Eastern Parks

Precipice Loop

Park: Acadia

Length: 2.7 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

This cliff’s edge “hike” in Acadia National Park is not for the faint of heart. More challenging than its sister trek, the Beehive Loop, Precipice ascends over 1,000 feet in just 0.9 miles. Along the way, adventurers will encounter rock scrambling and iron rungs drilled directly into the rock face, gleaning better and better views as they climb. From the top of Champlain Mountain, hikers get second-to-none views of Frenchman Bay and the powerful Atlantic Ocean.

Old Rag Mountain

Park: Shenandoah

Length: 9.4 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Nab a day use permit and hit the parking lot at sunrise (it tends to fill up) for this strenuous hike to the summit of bald-topped Old Rag Mountain. Known for its tremendous fall colors and heart-pumping rock scrambling, the full Old Rag Circuit showcases fantastic vistas of Virginia’s verdant farmlands and deciduous forests.

Long Point Trail

Park: New River Gorge

Length: 3.2 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

When you aren’t clipping in for an adrenaline-boosting rock climb or descending a series of gnarly rapids in the New River, head to the Long Point Trail to stretch your legs and take in the incredible engineering of the New River Bridge. This rainbow-shaped marvel is the longest steel span bridge in the western hemisphere, and after meandering through hemlock and oak forests, this trail opens up to one of the best bridge photo opportunities in the entire park.

Bubbles Divide Trail

Park: Acadia

Length: 1.5 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Beginning and ending at the Bubbles Divide parking lot, this trek features some of the best views of historic Jordan Pond. Though the trail is simply stunning year-round, we’d recommend hiking to the summits of North and South Bubble during September or October, when autumn colors paint the park in a frenzy of electric crimson and marigold.

Dark Hollow Falls

Park: Shenandoah

Length: 1.6 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

For those visiting Shenandoah who don’t want to strain their legs on a summit hike, there are loads of scenic waterfalls to enjoy. Dark Hollow Falls is an impressive, 70-foot-tall cascade that tumbles over dark metamorphic rock. Visitors here can explore the falls via a quick out-and-back or extend the trip on an all-day loop around the Big Meadows area.

Southern Parks

Guadalupe Peak

Park: Guadalupe Mountains

Length: 8.4 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Climb to the “top of Texas” on this rewarding journey up to the state’s high point. What was once an ancient coral reef set deep within the Permian Basin is now one of the most famous summits in the south, and peakbaggers can watch the Chihuahuan Desert expand below them as they ascend this all-day hike. Care to spend the night under the stars and break up all that elevation gain? Book a site at the Guadalupe Peak Wilderness Campground, just a mere mile under the summit.

Lind Point to Salomon Beach

Park: Virgin Islands

Length: 3 miles

Difficulty: Moderate

Who says that hiking and beach lounging can’t go hand-in-hand? This short trail to Salomon Beach begins and ends at the Virgin Islands Visitor Center and is a great way to escape the in-town crowds. After ascending through tropical dry rainforest, maroon yourself with a good book on a private, sandy beach.

Discovery Self-Guided Cave Walk

Park: Mammoth Cave

Length: 1 mile

Difficulty: Easy

Though you’ll need to nab a timed-entry ticket for it, this 1-mile underground journey is entirely self-guided. That means you’ll be able to traverse the wide tunnels and unique rock formations of the world’s longest known cave system at your own pace. Search for bats sleeping amidst the limestone caverns, and don’t miss the park’s spooky, abandoned tuberculosis ward.

Alum Cave Trail to Mt. LeConte

Park: 10 miles

Length: Great Smoky Mountains

Difficulty: Challenging

One of the top ways to avoid crowds in Great Smoky Mountains is to rise early and go on a long, tough hike. This 10-mile out-and-back to the top of Mt. LeConte boasts over 2,700 feet of elevation gain and amazing views of the park’s namesake hazy hillsides and high spruce-fir forests. Only interested in an out-and-back to the famous cave? It’s just 4.6 miles roundtrip to relax under the Alum Cave Bluffs.

Anhinga Trail

Park: Everglades

Length: 0.8 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Though Everglades is revered for its peaceful drives, phenomenal birding, and remote boating opportunities, the Anhinga Trail gives active travelers a chance to stretch out and spot wildlife while enjoying the park’s sawgrass marsh. Bring your favorite set of binoculars and scan for alligators, turtles, and egrets, which are easiest to spot during the winter months when the water is low. Want to see more? Tack on the half-mile, jungle-centric Gumbo Limbo Trail, which begins and ends at the same parking lot.

Boardwalk Loop

Park: Congaree

Length: 2.3 miles

Difficulty: Easy

Follow a wooden boardwalk around the largest remaining old-growth bottomland hardwood forest (try saying that three times fast) in Congaree. This park is a must-see for tree huggers, boasting the highest concentration of champion trees (the largest of their species) in North America. Scan the mellow marsh for knobby-kneed cypress trees and swamp tupelos as you wind around this easy, wheelchair-friendly loop.

Kuwohi Observation Tower

Park: Great Smoky Mountains

Length: 1 mile

Difficulty: Easy

Some of the most majestic views in Great Smoky Mountains can be found along Kuwohi Road (formerly Clingman’s Dome Road). This easy, paved path from the busy parking lot at the top of the road ascends to a retrofuturistic lookout tower with jaw-dropping vistas of the park’s famous misty mountains.

Chisos Basin to South Rim Loop

Park: Big Bend

Length: 13.6 miles

Difficulty: Challenging

Set in the surprisingly green Chisos Mountains, this overnight backpacking loop offers awe-inspiring views of towering pinnacles and the arid Chihuahuan Desert. The trail starts at a lofty 5,400 feet, steadily climbing through scrubby trees and rocky spires until it reaches the South Rim and opens up into a commanding view. If you can, try to nab one of the campsites that sit right on the plateau’s rim (we like ER9 and SR3) for a top-notch stargazing experience.

The post The Best 50 Dayhikes, Backpacking Trips, and Thru-Hikes in the National Parks appeared first on Backpacker.

I was 23 when I went on my first backpacking trip. I came home, took a shower, put my gear away, and the next day I was 37.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

I thought little of what I was putting my body through on the trail throughout most of my 20s. Though I reduced my pack weight for easier miles and less strain on my joints, unless I was injured, I shook off aches and pains from long trail days and felt good as new each morning. I’m a lot creakier these days, and put more effort into protecting my joints, stretching my back, and making sure I continue to feel healthy and (mostly) uninjured as I hurtle deeper into my late 30s and beyond.

I haven’t diminished my volume of time spent outside, but I do some things differently (and with more care) than I did in my 20s. I like to think this doesn’t just help keep me fresh now, but sets up good habits for the future. Here are five things I do differently.

At home, a consistent yoga practice 

I’ve long held a half-hearted yoga practice, mostly in the winter when I need somewhere to go after it gets dark at 4:30. But over the past few years, I’ve become more disciplined. I’ve built a consistent practice that has resulted in noticeable improvements in strength, stability, and flexibility.

I aim for a variety of classes: deep stretching and breath work in yin, and stability and strength in vinyasa classes. Even though I’m not doing yoga on the trail (no shade if you are), improving my posture and engaging in regular guided stretching has translated to more efficient, stable movement while carrying a pack over uneven terrain.

On trail, consistent stretching 

I have memories of springing out of my sleeping bag, breaking down my tent, and eating a smashed energy bar while hitting the trail five minutes after waking up. A decade later, I’m still eating a smashed energy bar while leaving camp (no leisurely camp breakfast here), but I take a few minutes to stretch out before putting my pack on and starting to walk.

This has partially come from my regular yoga practice: I’ve realized I feel a lot better when I stretch, and it helps prep and loosen my muscles for the day ahead, especially when it’s chilly and I’m more likely to feel stiff. My target areas are my quads, hips, shoulders, and hamstrings, and I also make sure to hit each of those during breaks during the day and once I get to camp at night.

I swapped out my sleeping pad for a more supportive option.

Sleep systems are largely a personal choice, but the highly inflated, stiffer Therm-a-Rest XLite NeoAir that I used for eight years stopped feeling comfortable a few years ago. I’ve found myself gravitating towards the more mattress-like AirSprung cells on Sea to Summit’s pads.

Many of these models have light insulation that adds to the warmth without adding loft (ie, less stiffness), and they feel more body-conforming than the horizontal baffles on a pad like the NeoAir or Big Agnes’ Zoom UL. I’ve felt less stiff in the morning since switching, and while you’ll incur a minor weight and packed-size penalty, I’ve found the cushioning difference to be worth it. Plus, they inflate in about half the time with half the breaths.

Poles are now a non-negotiable.

I’ve always used hiking poles for my long-distance trips. But once I started being more conscientious about my knees, they earned a permanent place in my packing list. It’s nice to have the aid during steep ascents to reduce quad burnout, but reducing jarring impact on my knees during harsh descents is where they shine. Using poles correctly reduces the shock on hard down-steps, and adding pressure on additional ground points helps distribute the force of your stride and weight of your pack.

I’m less worried about acute knee injuries than I am about overuse here. Having the poles for support on steep routes makes enough of a difference that I feel it even on overnights. I prefer carbon poles for their added shock absorption, but if you’re hard on your gear, aluminum is more durable with better lateral strength.

Those little cork massage balls actually do make a difference 

While I can hike out the tightness in my calves and quads each morning, rolling around on a little cork ball at camp helps loosen everything up, stimulate blood flow, and relieve muscle knots down before they freeze up overnight. These weigh just a few grams, pop into a side pocket, and can be used to pinpoint direct areas with targeted pressure. If I need more pressure on one calf, I cross my other leg over the targeted leg, then slowly add pressure until I feel the knot loosen up.

The post 5 Things I Do Backpacking in My 30s That I Didn’t Do in My 20s appeared first on Backpacker.

Police are searching for a trio of people who allegedly threatened and assaulted hikers in two separate “trail rage” incidents that started as arguments over the suspects’ dogs.

In a Facebook post, the Yavapai County Sheriff’s Office (YCSO) solicited the public’s help in identifying a man and a woman accused of physically assaulting a pair of hikers at Arizona’s Granite Basin Lake in Prescott National Forest on September 6. The incident began when the hikers encountered the dog owners on a nearby trail.

“Following a brief verbal exchange regarding the dog, the male suspect allegedly physically assaulted one of the hikers, punching him multiple times,” the YCSO wrote on Facebook. “When the second hiker attempted to intervene, she was attacked by the female suspect.” The confrontation ended when the male dog owner allegedly pointed a handgun at one of the hikers; he and the female suspect then left for the area’s main parking lot. By the time law enforcement arrived, both the dog owners were gone. The YCSO said that the two victims, who received minor injuries, declined medical care.

In the Facebook post, the sheriff’s office went on to ask anyone who was in the area and believes they saw the two suspects—described as a white man and woman in their 30s or 40s with a large brown dog—to call law enforcement. The Forest Service allows dogs at Granite Basin Lake, but requires owners to keep them on a 6-foot leash at all times.

In a separate incident, the Summit County Sheriff’s Office (SCSO) last week said that it had issued a warrant for the arrest of a New Mexico woman for allegedly threatening a group of hikers during another on-trail confrontation over a dog in July. According to the SCSO, the woman was riding on horseback along the Meadow Creek Trail in the White River National Forest near Frisco, Colorado when the hikers told her that her dog needed to be on a leash. (Some portions of the Meadow Creek Trail do not require owners to leash their dogs, while others inside the Eagles Nest Wilderness do; it’s not immediately clear where the confrontation happened.) In response, the rider allegedly threatened to trample and shoot the hikers, then called them homophobic slurs before riding away.

Police eventually tracked the rider down by comparing a photo of her horse’s brand to a regional registry. When detectives finally reached her by phone, she admitted her role in the incident, but insisted she was acting in self-defense and referred to the other parties in the confrontation as an “old fat woman,” “the idiot,” and “Peter Pan.” She is now wanted on four counts of misdemeanor menacing, four counts of bias-motivated crimes, and one count of reckless endangerment.

Dogs roaming off-leash is a controversial topic among hikers. Even in areas where they’re allowed, they’ve led to conflict in the recent past, some of it violent. In 2022, several hikers accused a Washington County, Utah man of pointing a gun at them and threatening to kill them for walking their dogs off-leash on Bureau of Land Management trails, with one of the hikers snapping a photo of him apparently brandishing a weapon. The man, who denied threatening them and said he drew his gun to defend himself from the dogs, never faced charges.

The post Hikers Punched, Threatened With Guns After Arguing With Dog Owners appeared first on Backpacker.

Yosemite National Park experienced one of its busiest summers ever, the National Park Service reported last week, just months after steep cuts across the federal government left staffers worried about the park’s ability to function safely.

Between January and the end of August, the park received 2,919,722 visitors compared to 2,727,496 visitors the previous year – a seven percent increase.

Yosemite has seen significant budget cuts that make managing standard traffic volume challenging. Earlier this year, the Trump administration released a budget plan that called for a $1 billion reduction in funding for the National Park Service, including a $900 million loss to park operations and a $73 million loss to park construction. Shortly thereafter, Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum ordered national parks to remain open as normal despite staffing shortages.

Since the Trump administration took office, the NPS has lost 24 percent of its staff members – about 16,000 of which went willingly due to a buyout program that the administration offered to reduce staffing across national parks. Yosemite National Park lost at least 18 employees to the buyout. Partially in response to the cuts, staff at Yosemite, Sequoia, and Kings Canyon National Parks voted in August to unionize.

Current and former employees have reacted to Yosemite’s surging visitor numbers in conflicting ways with conflicting attitudes with many lower level employees venting frustration, and warning of an impending crisis park-wide.

The park’s former superintendent, Cicely Muldoon, retired from her position in February and has since voiced similar frustrations, telling Politico’s E&E News that “there are a lot of folks who are doing the jobs that three people used to do.”

“Summers, in particular, our high season, really just crush people, because you have to be called out on overtime all the time,” Muldoon said. “The search-and-rescue loads are intense. The traffic and parking, and Yosemite crowds are intense. People are always exhausted by the end.”

According to documents Politico obtained through a public records request, between January and July of this year the park received 40 percent more rescue calls over the same period in 2024. At the same time, the number of people working in law enforcement for the park has declined by 48 percent since 2010.

Still, the park’s acting superintendent, Ray McPadden, maintained in a press release that the park is doing well.

“This summer, we expanded access, offered new and improved facilities, experiences, and programs, all in testament to our dedicated park staff and partners,” said McPadden. “Their extraordinary efforts allowed millions of Americans and visitors from across the globe to enjoy Yosemite and create lifelong memories.”

The post Yosemite Just Had One of its Busiest Summers Amid Staffing and Funding Shortages appeared first on Backpacker.

$209 (30 percent off) at REI — Women’s

$220 (26 percent off) at Campsaver — Men’s 

The Editors’ Choice-winning Mystery Ranch Radix punches above its weight. At just 3.8 pounds, it’s about a pound lighter than other fully-featured backpacks in its category. But you wouldn’t know that from how it carries: After taking the Radix 57 on a soggy, brushy three-day jaunt along North Carolina’s Art Loeb Trail, our testers reported the pack could handle loads of up to 50 pounds without leaving them sore the next day. To get there, the Radix’s designers upgraded its materials instead of downgrading the suspension: An aerospace-grade aluminum frame shaved grams without compromising the pack’s support, while the body—100-denier Robic nylon, reinforced with UHMWPE and treated with a DWR coating—both kept down weight and kept out most precip. The black-on-black color scheme doesn’t look bad, either.

The post Deal of the Week: This Lightweight Backpack Can Handle Serious Loads appeared first on Backpacker.

The 501 and Eckville shelters’ days could be numbered. Earlier this year, the National Park Service announced plans to demolish the two well-known Pennsylvanian Appalachian Trail shelters by the end of 2026 or early 2027 as part of a push to dispose of “nonconforming infrastructure.” Now, the Blue Mountain Eagle Climbing Club (BMECC) is establishing a special committee to save the iconic AT pit stops.

The Eckville shelter (mile 1235) in Pennsylvania is known for its fully-enclosed design, which creates enhanced protection during inclement weather. Hikers often refer to the 501 shelter (mile 1196) as the “pizza shelter,” because its location allows users to order pizza directly to it. Both shelters feature unusual amenities like solar showers and even flush toilets at Eckville shelter.

While the NPS has owned the two properties since 1985, they’re both predominantly managed by local trail organizations. Many of the upgrades that the shelters have seen in recent years were made by BMECC. Each property also has a caretaker, who isn’t employed by the NPS.

Ann Simonelli, Director of Communications for the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC), explained that plans have been in place to demolish the shelters for several years for a few different reasons. The shelters are considered “nonconforming” structures since they’re both located close to motorized access points. They also “do not fall within modern NPS housing, volunteer, and visitor use policies,” said Simonelli.

One of the difficulties that the owners of the shelters face is liability for injuries that could result from disrepair of the buildings, Jim Barnett, President Pro Tem of BMECC told Backpacker. But the organization still hopes to forestall the demolitions. A direct sale between the NPS and local land managers isn’t possible due to federal regulations, and a “land swap” (which would involve trading one piece of property for another) is possible but likely unrealistic due to time constraints.

Instead, BMECC is looking to ”garner a grassroots effort from those who value the shelters to pressure the NPS to change their decision to demolish them and continue the relationship where we partner in keeping them viable,” said Barnett.

As of right now, both shelters are likely to be demolished sometime between the end of next year and the beginning of the following one. Nearby designated camping areas in the region are still slated to remain open.

Those who are in favor of saving the shelters not only point to the historical and cultural significance of the structures, but also the logistical challenges that would arise amidst the loss of the structures. Barnett explained that removing the 501 shelter from the Appalachian Trail would create a 19-mile gap between trail shelters, while the loss of Eckville shelter would create a 16.5-mile gap between shelters in rocky, aggressive terrain, leaving some hikers struggling to travel the extra distance.

“The shelters provide good options for section and thru-hikers,” Barnett said. “They offer protection from bad weather and amenities camping areas don’t. Protection from severe storms—which seem to be worsening because of climate change—cannot be overstated.  Additionally, caretakers give great advice and receive valuable information about trail conditions, safety issues and other hiker concerns.”

Some local community members support the use of structures like the 501 and Eckville shelters because they help to concentrate human impact into a relatively small area to support Leave No Trace practices, in addition to creating a social hub and a safe haven for those facing foul weather.

Mick Charowsky, the Eckville shelter’s current caretaker, “has been there for over 30 years and plans to stay as long as viable,” said Barnett.

“Because [the shelters] are close to the road, caretakers living at nearby caretaker residences are a necessity to assure that these are only for backpackers and not mistreated by other parties curious about the premises,” he added. “We were the only trail-maintaining club that opted to take this responsibility when the NPS wanted to remove properties. There is a cost for the club, caretakers, and NPS to maintain healthy shelters and caretaker residences.” As long as the NPS keeps the shelters open, Barnett said, the BMECC plans to continue running them.

Even so, not everyone in the BMECC committee agrees that fighting to save the shelters is worth the organization’s effort.

“Some feel that our club resources could be used better elsewhere,” Barnett said. “Others feel that the benefit for section and thru-hikers is why we exist and are worth the cost.”

For hikers who found a home for the night at one of the shelters, their imminent closure has struck a blow. On a Facebook post announcing the news earlier this year, past thru-hikers commented that the water at the 501 shelter was a “lifesaver,” and that demolishing the structures would be a “shame for the hiking community.”

The post The Appalachian Trail’s Famous “Pizza Shelter” Is Facing Demolition. This Hiking Group Is Fighting to Save It. appeared first on Backpacker.

One of my hardest days on the Colorado Trail wasn’t due to weather, fatigue, or my propensity for panic attacks at the base of 3,000-foot climbs. It was because—despite a full (and heavy!) food bag—I couldn’t choke down any food. Not even a single gummy bear.

I stared at the trail unwinding in front of me. It was hot, I was hiking at over 10,000 feet, and I had no energy. I knew I needed to eat, but the thought of anything in my food bag made me gag. I had even spat out a Clif Bar during a 5-mile ascent that morning. Instead of the ravenous appetite many thru-hikers experience, my body fought everything I tried to eat, making for exhausting, stressful days and resupplies. 

Eventually I ate a smashed gas station muffin and dragged myself to a road crossing where I hitched into town and resupplied with every flavor and variety of snacks I could think of that my body might be able to handle on the next section. While I’m a special circumstance in a lot of cases, appetite issues on trail aren’t as uncommon as I thought. 

“When you’re pushing hard—whether it’s a steep climb with a pack or running long miles—your body diverts blood away from your digestive system and toward your muscles and skin,” says Melissa Boufounos, CHN, sports nutritionist and owner of MB Performance Nutrition near Ottawa, Ontario. She also backed up what I already suspected: Along with miles, elevation, and fatigue, the heat was another demand on my body as it tried to keep its core temperature down. All of this can (and does) lead to making digestion feel uncomfortable at best, impossible at worst.

A poor appetite is annoying enough at home, but on the trail, you’re burning a lot more calories and the energy is crucial for finishing your trip.

“Flat hiking burns in the range of 300 to 400 calories per hour for most people,” Boufanos tells me. “Add elevation gain and a 20-pound pack, and that often climbs to 450 to 600-plus calories per hour.” 

It doesn’t stop there: Steep climbs with a loaded pack can burn 700 or more calories per hour, and the heavier you are and the larger your pack, the higher your hourly burn. For many people (myself included), this high output doesn’t equate to reliable hunger cues.

“During hard efforts, blood flow is shunted away from digestion,” says Boufanos. “This blunts the appetite, dulling hunger cues and leaving us relying on signs like dropping energy, headaches, or dizziness.” Not a great spot to be in during a backpacking trip.

How do people with low appetites keep themselves going on the trail?

First, here’s the caloric breakdown.

“A well-fed hiker starts with roughly 1,400 to 1,800 calories of glycogen stored in their muscles and liver,” says Boufanos, a supply which she said can be burned through in just a few hours of backpacking.

While it varies from hiker to hiker and trail to trail, the optimal intake for steady energy is a minimum of 30 grams of carbs per hour. For the multi-hour days and steep climbs on many backpacking trails, that increases to 60 to 90 grams per hour. Carbs are the main fuel source, and for longer days (like thru-hiking), supplementing with 10 to 15 grams of protein per hour helps protect muscle mass and supports recovery. 

But again, this in ideal circumstances with non-sensitive stomachs. If you’re one of those people who has trouble eating during extended, hard efforts, you probably aren’t counting grams of carbs and balancing your protein-to-fat intake. You’re just trying to eat enough food to keep walking. 

“If your stomach struggles on the trail, the first step is training your gut,” says Boufounos. She likens it to training your legs, and that it can “take weeks or months of practice to get comfortable eating while moving.” Boufounos recommends figuring out which foods work for you, and not to stress about eating “perfectly clean” when you’re out there. (Don’t worry, I don’t.)

While it will upset your organically optimized, CSA-member hiking buddy, processed foods are often easier to digest than whole foods. If you’re looking at the options of either not fueling at all or eating processed food? Just eat the processed food. 

“Pop-Tarts, Oreos, Goldfish, and other salty crackers all pack well and go down easily,” says Boufounos, who also recommends nut butter packets, though I’ve found these harder to get down than lighter foods. 

After years of dealing with a wretched stomach on everything from thru-hikes to bike races to trail runs, my strategy boils down to a few things. First, I try to fuel well in the days leading up to the trip, like I’m getting a “backlog” of quality, balanced foods. 

For the trail, I strategize in a few ways:

1) Pack a variety of tastes and textures. If my stomach is rebelling against mushy sweet food, I’ll try something light and crunchy. If my stomach hates the light and crunchy, I’ll try dense and salty. This can mean bringing everything from Sour Patch Kids to energy gels to beef jerky and Goldfish. Just make sure there’s something from every taste and texture category, and try not to predict how you’ll feel once you’re out there. What you’re craving at the grocery store is probably different from what you’ll be craving on the fourth day of your trip. 

I swear I don’t get a kickback from Nerds Gummy Clusters, but they’ve been an absolute lifesaver on long efforts recently. I liken it to the same benefit as sour gummy worms: The difference in texture almost tricks my brain into having an easier time eating it. Each bite isn’t the same, both in flavor and texture. 

Need more protein but can’t stand to eat? Try our favorite peanut butter chocolate shake, which comes with more protein than your standard bar. 

2) Candy is cheap, easy to eat, and you can bring a range of options. I know Swedish Fish aren’t a super food (or are they?) but they don’t stick together in the bag, pack a punch of easy-to-digest carbs, and can be eaten on the go. Candy is calorically dense, and while it won’t give you the nice slow-release energy from low-glycemic index foods, it could be the energy burst you need to gain the next pass. 

3) Light and crispy foods are easier to eat quickly. Have you ever tried to gnaw through the last few bites of a dense protein bar and wish you could chop off your arm instead? The act of chewing through thick, dense foods can be gag-inducing even on the best of days, and light, crunchy, salty snacks like Pringles, Goldfish, or pretzel chips are often easier to chew and swallow. 

4) Sport-ready fuel is a good supplementary option. It’s not realistic to feed yourself entirely on expensive gels, blocks, and high-calorie drink mixes, but I always keep a few options in my food bag. Most single-serve energy gels have around 100 calories and can be gagged down in one gulp. I’ve also had good luck recently with Skratch Lab chews, maybe due to their *variety in texture.* Finally, I’ve been packing a bottle or two of high-carb drink mix on long day hikes. Tailwind has a lightly flavored lemonade flavor with 360 calories per packet and 90 grams of carbs. It’s an easy way to drink your calories and get some energy without having to chew on a disgusting protein bar. 

5) Try to keep eating no matter what. I’ve dug myself into a lot of questionably conscious holes because I waited to feel hungry (which never happened) and then couldn’t power myself up the next climb because I was so depleted. Bring snacks you know you’ll eat, take small bites and sips along the way, and train your gut. Your body will thank you, and you can take dramatic photos of cheese and Nerds Gummy Clusters on your next peak.

The post A Lot Can Make a Hiker Lose Appetite. Here’s How To Stay Fueled When You’re Not Hungry. appeared first on Backpacker.

For the first time in 16 years, 50,000 acres of rugged public land along the Missouri River Breaks in Montana are accessible to hikers and campers once again, following a major acquisition by the nonprofit American Prairie.

On September 4, American Prairie announced that it had finalized its purchase of the Anchor Ranch, a 67,960-acre parcel in north-central Montana that sits adjacent to the Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument. In addition to opening up the ranch itself—which includes 22,837 acres of fully-private land and 45,123 leased acres—the purchase reopens 3.8 miles of Bullwhacker Road, a dirt track that provides critical access to the nearby swath of public land.

“It’s super rugged terrain,” Beth Saboe, senior public relations manager for American Prairie, told Backpacker. “It’s some of the most beautiful and scenic parts of the Upper Missouri River breaks, a mix of pines and short grass prairie. You can get into some gnarly spots back there. It’s obviously not designated wilderness, but it’s pretty impressive terrain.”

For nearly two decades, Anchor Ranch and Bullwhacker Road have been at the center of a fierce debate over access that’s involved some of Montana’s biggest landowners. For years, locals treated Bullwhacker as a public right of way. Then, in 2009, ranch owners William and Olive Robinson filed suit arguing that the road was private property. When they won in 2011, they gated the road, effectively cutting off access to the large spread of public land.

In 2014, the ranch’s new owners, Texas billionaires Dan and Farris Wilks, attempted to use the Anchor Ranch as a bargaining chip for a high-profile land swap, telling the Bureau of Land Management they would trade it for the Dufree Hills, a well-known elk hunting area entirely encircled by another one of the brothers’ ranches. Local conservation and hunting groups protested, and in 2016, the BLM refused the proposal. In 2022, the brothers—who owned the second-largest properties in Montana—put the Anchor Ranch up for sale, asking for $35.96 million.

The status of the land’s ownership changed on Thursday when a video posted to American Prairie’s Facebook page showed staff removing “No Trespassing” signs and unlocking the gate that blocked access to the road.

Founded in 2001, American Prairie manages just over 600,000 acres of shortgrass prairie in Montana, split between private holdings and grazing leases. The group allows campers, hikers, and bikers free access to the reserve, which is home to wildlife such as sage grouse and free-ranging bison and has opened more than 80,000 acres to hunters. Together with adjacent public lands, it envisions eventually creating a 3-million-acre reserve that would restore and preserve the area’s original prairie environment. While there are few dedicated trails across the reserve, the group has promoted it as a destination for ‘prairie snorkeling’—destinationless rambling while observing the area’s many animal and plant species and geological features.

The post 50,000 Acres of Montana Backcountry Are Reopening to the Public After a Long-Awaited Land Acquisition appeared first on Backpacker.

The North Country Trail (NCT) is a beast of a backpacking route. The 4,800-mile footpath runs from North Dakota’s grasslands through Minnesota’s Boundary Waters, along the north shoreline of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, down to Ohio, over to Pennsylvania, across New York, and finally, ends in Vermont. (Whew!)

To put it simply: The NCT is a trail of contrasts. Every mile opens hikers’ eyes to a new landscape—from glacial lakes and boreal forests to sandstone cliffs and wide-stretched prairies. This ultra-scenic and geographically diverse trail offers countless sections for dayhikes and long-distance backpacking options, too, if a full thru-hike sounds like a bit much to take on in one go.

In this guide, we cover what to know about hiking the North Country Trail so you can get a sense of what a journey (long or short) on this epic trail is all about. 

How many miles is the North Country Trail?

The main route most hikers refer to when talking about the North Country Trail is its 4,800-mile backbone stretching from the prairies of North Dakota in the west to the rolling Green Mountains of Vermont in the east. “Bucket list” sections of the NCT include Minnesota’s Boundary Waters, Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and New York’s Finger Lakes region. Trail segments along the NCT are managed by the North Country Trail Association (NCTA) and its partner organizations in each of the eight states (North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, and Vermont) they pass through.

How long does it take to hike the North Country Trail?

An entire North Country Trail thru-hike usually takes over a year for most hikers. Fast hikers tackling upward of 20 miles per day—with few “zero days”—can complete the trail in closer to seven to nine months. Due to its sheer mileage, most choose to section-hike the trail rather than take it on in one continuous journey. Dozens of popular trailheads are a stone’s throw from major cities like Minneapolis/St. Paul, Detroit, Cleveland, and Buffalo. Popular wilderness areas for section and dayhiking along the NCT include the Allegheny National Forest in Pennsylvania, Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio, and Manistee National Forest in Michigan.

Where can you dayhike on the North Country Trail?

If you can’t commit to a full thru-hike, shorter dayhikes at scenic access points are a great option for seeing the best of the NCT. In fall, pit-stop at Lake of the Clouds Overlook in the Porcupine Mountains in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula for sweeping wilderness views. Here, sugar maples and aspen light up in every shade of orange, yellow, and red from mid-September through mid-October. Also, 45 minutes north of Duluth on Minnesota’s north shore, head to Gooseberry Falls State Park, which offers a range of loops that pass gushing waterfalls and vistas overlooking Lake Superior. 

Winter hikes here are just as stunning as the summer months, with frozen falls and whisper-quiet, snow-blanketed trails. Spring in Ohio’s Cuyahoga Valley National Park ushers in a wave of wildflowers that pop off in late April to early June. Look out for Virginia bluebells, purple cress, and great white trillium that engulf the forest along the shared 40-mile NCT and Buckeye Trail segment in the national park.

When it comes to warm-weather hiking, you can’t beat summer in the Finger Lakes region. Notably, the 422-mile NCT segment following the Finger Lakes Trail flaunts shady trails with towering oak and eastern white pine, and plenty of waterfalls and creeks to cool off in along the way.

Do you need a permit to hike the North Country Trail?

Unlike the well-known Pacific Crest Trail or even the lesser-traveled Lost Coast Trail, the NCT does not require a permit. You can thru-hike, section-hike, and dayhike the trail without an overarching permit. Some overnight camping permits are required in specific state and federal-managed forest areas along the NCT. Forest areas and trails within North Dakota, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York typically do not require an overnight camping permit. 

Popular sections that include overnight camping permits include Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore (Michigan), Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park (Michigan) and Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (Minnesota). Hikers should carefully review rules set by the state or federal agency that manages the specific areas where they intend to stay overnight.

Season-by-Season Guide: Thru-Hiking the North Country Trail

Hiking the entire NCT is a massive undertaking, but totally doable if you’re up for the challenge. Truth is, there are many approaches to tackling a thru-hike of the NCT. Here is our suggested 12-month timeframe to start and end your thru-hiking travels—beginning at the western trailhead in North Dakota and finishing at the eastern terminus in Vermont.

Season: Late Spring

Timing: Mid-May to June

States: North Dakota → Minnesota

The majority of hikers start their journey at the western trailhead near the Sheyenne National Grasslands in North Dakota. Winters are brutally cold in the plains and upper Minnesota, so it’s recommended to start your hike in May or June once the winter chill thaws. Heading east into northern Wisconsin and northern Minnesota, hikers will enjoy spring in the Upper Midwest—when snow has melted and conditions are manageable. Springtime mud may be abundant during this time of year, so prepare accordingly.

Season: Summer

Timing: July to August

States: Minnesota → Wisconsin → Michigan’s Upper Peninsula

Cold dips in the chilly water of Lake Superior along the North Shore of Minnesota and the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore are ideal to ease the aches and pains of double-digit days on the trail—not to mention, cool off. You’ll miss peak black fly season in the Upper Peninsula (May and June) by hiking this region this time of year. While inland stretches along the north edge of the Ottawa National Forest can be hot and humid, Lake Superior’s breezy shoreline is a welcome treat throughout this stretch of trail. It’s also arguably the most scenic section of the NCT for its boreal forests and dramatic cliffs overlooking Lake Superior.

Season: Fall

Timing: September to November

States: Michigan’s Lower Peninsula → Ohio

September and October usher in crisp days and bug-free campsites with glowing peak color engulfing the journey. Some may argue that upstate New York and Vermont can’t be beat for their fall foliage. But Michigan and Ohio punch above their weight class for autumn color in dense forests like Manistee and the Hocking Hills region in Ohio. By November, you’ll reach southern Ohio, where you can expect cold weather, but milder conditions than in the northwoods. This segment of the NCT in the Lower Peninsula of Michigan and western Ohio is characterized by quiet forests and small-town resupply stops, with more frequent road crossings and easier terrain compared to the rugged Upper Midwest.

Season: Winter

Timing: December to February

States: Ohio → Pennsylvania

While snow and ice are common during winter months on the North Country Trail, southern and eastern Ohio, and Pennsylvania, are more tame than in the northern states. Winter becomes more about stamina, endurance, and patience to get through the colder weather. Swap your summer gear for warmer sleep systems and a sturdier tent to fend off snow should you find yourself in some. Winter in Ohio’s Wayne National Forest especially surprises and delights with frequent sightings of deer, wild turkey, fox, and even bald eagles. Not to mention, wildlife (and their tracks) are way easier to spot in the open woods during this time of year.

Season: Spring

Timing: March to June (Year 2)

States: Pennsylvania → New York → Vermont

Hikers’ final push on the NCT culminates with the stunning scenery of the upper East Coast. Rolling landscape with deep valleys and rolling ridges defines Pennsylvania’s Allegheny highlands—known as the Appalachian Plateau—and upstate New York. Lingering snow patches and muddy trails will make up a lot of March. But by early April through May, the forests here burst with blooms and waterfalls that run full, making it easy for hikers to replenish at water sources. Spring hiking on the NCT doesn’t get much better than navigating flower-flanked trails through the Finger Lakes region, with trout lilies, trilliums, and bloodroot making appearances. In the homestretch of June, hikers will climb into Vermont’s Green Mountains for a rugged finale before closing out nearly 5,000 miles on one of America’s most expansive trails.

What to pack for the North Country Trail

Hiking long distances requires substantial backpacking gear. But there are a few items to pack for an NCT hike that will make your time more enjoyable than without them.

Bug protection

Black flies, ticks, and mosquitoes are relentless along many sections of the North Country Trail, mainly in Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, during the spring and summer months. June and July in particular are notorious months for insects. You’ll want to pack a head net (we like the Coughlan No-See-Um Head Net) and treat your hiking clothing (pants, hats, socks, shirts) with permethrin before hitting the trail. Or, invest in this tried and tested bug-free hiking gear.

Adequate footwear

The NCT throws all kinds of terrain at you: sandy shorelines, rocky ridgelines, muddy valleys, and seemingly endless prairie. Trail runners are a safe bet for their ability to handle varied terrain (and dry out quickly). Pro tip: Avoid waterproof shoes, which tend to trap moisture, as the weather on the North Country Trail is often unpredictable.

Navigation (downloadable or paper)

Remote sections of the NCT aren’t marked as prominently as other, more commonly thru-hiked trails like the Appalachian Trail or the PCT. Opt for a handheld or wearable GPS to stay on track.

Winter-specific tent

NCT hikers can get away with a three-season tent most of the year. But for those hiking in colder months, camping in the winter requires a specific set of gear. Swap your tent in late fall and winter (November through March) for one with a stronger pole structure, thicker fabric, and a lower profile.

The post How To Hike America’s Longest National Scenic Trail in a Day, a Month, or a Year appeared first on Backpacker.