Camping & Caviar

I am a boring backpacker, I’ll be the first to admit it. And maybe “boring” isn’t the right word… maybe “safe” or “cautious” would be more appropriate, but being safe and cautious results in me being…well… rather boring. Plus, I liked the alliteration so that’s what I’m going with. Anyway…I’ve learned this about myself over my last few backpacking trips. What makes me boring, you ask?  Well, I’d summarize my general goal for every backpacking trip as such: experience NO thrills. If I find myself in a thrilling/exciting/heart racing situation, well, that means I’ve made a terrible mistake. I want every backpacking trip to be as uneventful as possible. I’ll share a few examples…

I’ll start with something incredibly basic: setting up camp. Picking a campsite and setting up your tent may not strike you as something that would make a person “boring” but let me explain. First, as soon as a campsite is chosen, I have to immediately set up the tent. No time to rest or even get a drink of water, the tent must go up. My husband would say that this doesn’t make me boring, it makes me annoying. But it’s the reason why I have to set up the tent ASAP that leads me to being a boring backpacker. I do not enjoy finding myself in a scenario where I’m trying to race the weather to set up my shelter; I want it ready to go in case it starts to rain so I can just jump right in. Some people may think it’s fun to race Mother Nature, “We saw clouds rolling in… we got the tent up just in time…what a rush!” No thank you. Because do you know what happens when you lose that race? You get wet. Along with all your stuff. You know what makes me unhappy when backpacking? Being wet. It’s miserable, I hate it. You basically never get dry again, so I do everything I possibly can to avoid that situation. 

The other aspect of setting up camp that makes me a boring backpacker is that I typically pick the least scenic spot. Typically, if your site has epic views, it means you’re pretty exposed. And exposure usually means wind when you’re in the mountains. I don’t like wind. Not only does it blow shit around (you name it – dirt, leaves, your hair, your tent… it’s a nightmare), but it also makes you feel colder than you would without the wind. That’s just a fact, that’s why there is such a thing as “wind chill”, so don’t try to argue with me on this… wind makes you feel cold. Period. I don’t like to be wet and I don’t like to be cold. I’m like a baby in that regard – if I’m cold and wet, someone is going to hear me cry and whine about it (typically my husband). So I will forsake the stunning views to put up my tent somewhere in the trees (and only the best trees… I flat out refuse to camp near any dead ones that may fall on me in my sleep), somewhere relatively protected (or as protected as I can find). And if I find a location that’s protected AND has views? Well, that’s fine as long as it’s a nice site, meaning it’s relatively flat, drains well, minimal roots and rocks, all that kind of stuff. On one of our most recent backpacking endeavors, some girls chose to camp near our site and had 2 options: 1) a flat, protected site with the view of the lake below blocked by a large rock, and 2) a site with a view of the lake from the tent that was in a sandy, drainage pit. Seriously, the second site looked like it would clearly flood with water during a rainstorm, and it wasn’t particularly level (it was a big hole), which doesn’t make for the most comfortable night of sleep. Guess what they chose? Option 2! Can’t get the Instagram shot of the lake when you open the tent door if your view is blocked by a large rock. Guess what also happened that night? It rained. So… don’t ever expect to see incredible photos from my campsites… they don’t exist. I will pick the safest, most protected, campsite possible… to hell with the views, I’ll admire those during the day when I’m hiking. 

Another aspect of my boring backpacker tendencies is that I hope I don’t see any animals on the trip. You read that correctly… I DO NOT want to see animals. It’s exciting to see a bear, right? And that’s precisely why I don’t want to see any. Bears are dangerous, why would I want to see one while I’m out sleeping in their territory? This goes for really any animal that people would often hope to see when exploring the great outdoors. I don’t want to see moose (they can be dangerous), I don’t want to see elk (hello? Have you seen their antlers?), I don’t want to see mountain goats or bighorn sheep (those things would totally knock you off a mountain without a second thought). I’m fine with seeing the bovids and cervids from a safe distance, but when they are close enough that it feels thrilling? Well, that’s too damn close. I’m generally fine with the rodent family, squirrels and chipmunks seem fine and not particularly threatening. I’m not excited to see rodents… and that’s kind of the point and why I find them acceptable. That said, there are some aggressive chipmunks, squirrels, and marmots in some of the popular backpacking destinations (often a result of getting handouts from humans – don’t feed the animals, seriously) and I have, on a few occasions, gone running away from a squirrel in fright.

To further prove how boring I am, scenarios that make people “feel alive” are scenarios that I try to avoid. Want to bag a peak? Nope, those are tall and scary and I don’t like heights. Want to get the perfect picture near a cliff edge? Um, what did I just say about heights? I’ll pass. Want to wander off trail a bit to explore the unexplored? No way! First, I could get lost and second, that’s against the rules and I am a rule follower! Here’s another example… consider climbing a pass during a storm… I don’t want to do that, that’s dangerous. During a trip to the Wind River Range, my husband and I had plans to day-hike to the top of Texas Pass to get views of the Cirque of the Towers. As we neared Texas Pass, a storm rolled in. It started to rain and hail, so we didn’t attempt the pass and just hunkered down to let the storm pass by us. After waiting a while, and even venturing away from the pass to where there was a bit more protection from the elements, we decided to attempt Texas Pass again along with another group of hikers. We were maybe ⅓ of the way up the pass when I started to hear thunder again. I didn’t want to be exposed on the side of a mountain, let alone at the top of Texas Pass (11,447 ft), so I made us bail for the second time to get down the pass and back to some more protection. The other group continued up and could be heard cheering and hollering as the storm approached. These are the type of people that later write reviews on AllTrails saying things like, “a storm hit when we were at the top of the pass and I never felt more alive!” Screw that… I do not need to feel close to death to feel alive. And sure, the odds of getting struck by lightning are very low, it’s like less than one in a million. Odds are, my husband and I would have been just fine to continue hiking up the pass. But I’m not a gambler, and I imagine that while the odds may be low, they are certainly higher when you’re 11,000 feet up on the side of a mountain. So again, no thank you, I will happily forgo hiking up the pass at the risk of death just to see some nice views on the other side. 

Being a boring backpacker means that I don’t often have many interesting stories to share from backpacking trips. I plan well, pack accordingly, avoid steep cliffs and animals of all kinds, find the safest (and least interesting) spots to set up camp… things I believe help keep me safe, but also make me a bit boring. My backpacking trips are not exciting adventures. Why did I feel compelled to share this little anecdote about myself? Well, if anyone was hoping to read any exciting stories from our backpacking trips this summer… they don’t really exist. The most thrilling thing that happened was seeing a grizzly and her two cubs while hiking The Rockwall Trail in the Canadian Rockies, and you know what, I hated every second of that experience, could have happily done without it. So call me cautious… you can even call me boring, I don’t mind. I am a boring backpacker and proud of it.