Outbound Dan's Outdoor Musings

Hiking Cliff and Colden Mountains in the Adirondack High Peaks

2026-02-24T09:40:00.000-08:00

Hiking Cliff and Colden Mountains in the Adirondack High Peaks

Avalanche Lake in the Adirondack High Peaks is one of those places in winter which is awe inspiring. | Source

Adirondack Loj in the High Peaks

adirondack loj:

Adirondack Loj Rd, Lake Placid, NY 12946, USA

get directions

Climbing the Winter 46 High Peaks

Backpacking for a few days in January in the Adirondack High Peaks, what's the worse that could happen? I'm an experienced mountaineer, why would I allow something in the forecast like "a chance of snow melt" affect my plans when I've hiked in the worst of weather conditions - or so I thought.

Then again, my winter backpacking plans often go awry. Perhaps it is the uncertainty that makes my pulse quicken and reminds me to embrace life with a certain fullness.

Though, I have climbed all 46 of the Adirondack High Peaks over 4000', I went back yet again to climb in those same majestic mountains. It is an addiction, one I satisfy on my monthly forays to the 'Dacks. This time I was working toward my Winter 46 - climbing all 46 during the winter season. Yes, I've hiked through an ice storm in June, saw snow in August, and been in knee deep snow in April and November - but hiking in wintery conditions doesn't "count." For the 46rs, winter ascents only count between the winter solstice and the spring equinox.

So I had a plan, though the more astute of you out there can tell from my intro that I didn't follow it, for a relaxing four day sojourn.

The Plan:

Day 1: Drive to ADK Loj, park, and hike to Avalanche Camp lean-to and camp for the night

Day 2: Hike from Avalanche Camp to Uphill Brook lean-to and drop my pack. Climb Cliff and Redfield Mountains, and return to Uphill Brook to camp.

Day 3: Hike from Uphill Brook toward Four Corners. Climb Gray Peak and Mt. Skylight. Carry pack over Marcy - I didn't need Marcy for winter, but it is always an awesome mountain to climb. Descend down to Marcy dam area and camp.

Day 4: Have a lazy morning and hike out the two miles to the Loj and drive home.

A simple plan, right? It didn't seem too ambitious, all I needed was a little luck from the weather.

The Adirondack Loj

I parked at the Adirondack Mountain Club's Loj Heart Lake campground. For those spelling sticklers out there, you may notice the odd spelling of "lodge." That spelling is the result of former Lake Placid Club member (and inventor of the Dewey Decimal System) Melvil Dewey and his movement toward simplified spelling.

The Loj is a popular place to park for easy access to the Central High Peaks Region. However, a parking fee is charged for all users - discounted rates are available for ADK members.

The bridge over Marcy Dam was destroyed by the waters of Tropical Storm Irene in 2011. A reroute of the trail lies to the North. | Source

Day 1: Adirondack Loj to Avalanche Camp Lean-to

This is a short day, only about 4 miles with my wandering, but intentionally so. After the six-hour drive to the High Peaks from the Buffalo area, it's hard to motivate oneself to have a major mileage day. I didn't even get on the trail after gearing up and paying for parking till almost 3:15 PM, so I knew a nice relaxing short day was in order.

As usual, the trails around Loj were packed well with hard snow allowing for quick easy travel, almost everyone was wearing microspikes for traction underfoot. Though I started with crampons, my snowshoes hitching a ride on my backpack until needed later, I stowed the crampons after realizing it wasn't too slippery out. I bare booted the rest of the day, the lugs from my Keen Delta boots grab the ice well with a technology called "Keen.Grip."

Though, I knew the bridge at Marcy dam was obliterated by the force of water from Tropical Storm Irene, I honestly was expecting a more established reroute this close to the Loj. The trail now abruptly turns and crosses over a rocky area of Marcy Brook. In drier times, one could easily rock hop and stay dry - but this was a moment I was glad I had waterproof boots. I wonder if this brook crossing will keep more passive backcountry visitors at bay. After the crossing two strands of the Brook, the trail emerges out onto the South Meadow truck-trail, which leads you easily to Marcy Dam.

Even on the coldest winter day there is always a flurry of activity around Marcy Dam. At only 2-miles from the trailhead with plenty of camping, it is no wonder it is always so busy. Though they are hibernating now, this place is also a favorite haunt for hungry bears searching for campers careless with their chow. For such reasons DEC approved bear-resistant food containers are required between April 1st and November 30th in the Eastern High Peaks.

Being winter, you still have to keep your food safe though - especially from martens and mice. These little critters will chew a hole through your backpack to get to that granola bar inside.

I took the gentle trail away from the dam, passing the occupied lean-to at Marcy Brook, opting instead for solitude at Avalanche Camp. The last time I camped here was on a very cold December weekend a few years ago, but today was in the 30's even as the sun set over the mountains.

The morning view out of Avalanche Camp lean-to. | Source

GPS tracklog on Google Earth of my trip

I downloaded the tracks from this trip from my Gramin Map60 CSX GPS into Google Earth.

The trail was a little slushy - knee deep water in many places. | Source

Sure my boots are waterproof, but they only take submersion so many times.

Here I am looking all pensive at Lake Arnold. Notice the raindrops beading on my jacket. | Source

Day 2: Avalanche Camp to Cliff Mountain

The sound of sleet hitting the lean-to roof was an unpleasant sound to wake-up to at 4 AM. I shined my headlamp into the darkness, noting the reflection of the light in the grainy ice pellets, and promptly tucked myself into my down cocoon.

Something told me then, it wasn't going to be a good day - I probably should have listened to my instincts and stayed in my sleeping bag.

I finally eased myself out of my sleeping bag around 6:30, made a little coffee, heated some water for the day ahead, and wolfed down a Cliff bar. I then realized that I wasn't wearing any gloves and was quite comfortable. I can't ever remember winter camping in January and not wearing gloves, but as the sleet turned to rain outside, I realized why. My Marmot sleeping bag beckoned my name, but I stuffed it back into it's waterproof stuff sack and packed the rest of my backpack.

As I trudged up the trail, I was glad I decided to wear a hardshell jacket and pants. My new Mountain Hardware Victorio jacket easily repelled that rain, sleet, snow mix and kept me dry inside and out. Though my softshells are great, in mixed precipitation like this a hardshell garment is really what you need.

Passing the trail to Indian Falls, the trail became really wet. At first, my snowshoes glided across the slushy surface, but as I climbed higher the slush became wetter and wetter. Soon I was breaking through the thin ice layers into the flume of water that ran down the trail bed. I could turn back, but I decided to press on with each heavy step sinking to my knees in wet slush and water.

All I had to do was keep climbing and eventually I'd climb out of this snow melt, right?

After passing the mist shrouded Lake Arnold, the trail became firmer as the drainage departed the trail. When I reached the branch of the Opalescent in another mile, the crossing stones were underwater - it looked like it was time to get wet again.

I unbuckled my waist belt and planted my poles firmly into the rocky river bottom. I reached out with my snowshoed foot and moved cautiously through the quick moving river - ice chunks hitting my legs as I moved. I had some pretty good leakage in my boots now. Sure my boots are waterproof, but they only take submersion so many times.

Finally I reached the intersection with the Feldspar Brook Trail, looking to my left toward Mt Marcy and what I hoped to climb the next day. Easily, I hopped across Uphill Brook - when I returned it wouldn't be so. I proceeded to Uphill Brook lean-to, to drop my pack, as it is where I planned on spending the night.

I dropped my main pack, grabbed my summit bag with emergency supplies and headed toward the Cliff and Redfield herd path behind Uphill Brook lean-to. Though the trail to both of these peaks is an unofficial "herd path" meaning that it is not marked nor maintained, they are both easy to follow - even in the snow.

Because it is the harder of the two, I decided to climb Cliff first. You've already done the majority of the climbing by getting up on that ridge, so the ascent up Cliff is pretty easy except for a few very steep pitches. The snow was soft and slippery as I dug into those vertical sections - I kept my snowshoes on for more surface area and better grip while ascending. In one place I couldn't get a handhold on anything, so I used my ice axe to heave myself up while kicking in with the sharp crampons on the toes of my snowshoes.

As always, it is usually easier climbing up a pitch than down a steep slope - but I had an easy solution for coming down safely.

After climbing those steep parts, I reached the plateau which continues on for .4 miles till you reach the, ummm rather unimpressive summit. Like all mountains, the destination is in the journey and not always the reward of a fantastic summit view. This day, with a rain / snow mix and limited visibility, made this wooded summit even more blah. In my previous ascent of this peak it was raining too, but I hear there are some great views off to the South side.

I quickly snapped a picture of the broken summit sign, protecting my camera from the rain, then headed back down to the col.

I was able to get down the first steep section okay, but for the second pitch (the one I used the ice axe to climb) I needed some extra help. I wrapped my rope around a tree that made a good anchor, lowered my summit pack, then did a dulfersitz rappel down that section. For most short rappels, these non-mechanical wrap methods are fine for getting you safely to the bottom.

The Summit of Cliff Mountain

The summit sign on Cliff has seen better days. | Source

Yep, this was waist deep and the point where I turned around. | Source

The thought crossed my mind that walking through waist deep freezing water is something Bear Grylls would do. Of course, he has a full camera crew and I was out here alone standing in a mountain stream in winter.

Day 2 Continued: Redfield Attempt and a Hasty Retreat

Standing at the Cliff -Redfield herd path junction, the sound of Uphill Brook sounded louder than it did two hours prior. There still weren't any fresh snowshoe tracks heading toward my destination, so I pushed on up the trail, handrailing the roaring brook to my left.

Coming into visual contact with Uphill Brook, I realized how fast and how much volume of water was cascading down. It was a virtual rapids in many places.

As I climbed higher and the trail began following drainages from the summit, the trail grew softer and wetter. Even with snowshoes, I began sinking in to a slush that lied underneath the crust of snow.

One of the feeder streams was very high, but I pushed on with my eye on the summit. Yes, the water was up to my thighs, but my technical clothing kept me warm and a little dry.

My boots though, already soaked from wading through copious amounts of water, were beginning to freeze. My toes were starting to feel a little numb too, so I stopped took off my boots and pulled my Integral Designs vapor barrier socks over a pair of dry socks. Though VB liners can be uncomfortable to hike in, they'll keep your feet from freezing and I knew they'd keep my feet a little drier.

I pushed on, reaching an area where I knew I'd have to cross the main brook to reach the drainage that would take me to Redfield's summit. I took a step on the snow then plunged deeply up to my waist in icy snow melt. I was in a stupor, paralyzed, as chunks of ice carried by swift currents rushed by my legs. I pushed on and the water became deeper. The thought crossed my mind that walking through waist deep freezing water is something Bear Grylls would do. Of course, he has a full camera crew and I was out here alone standing in a mountain stream in winter.

I looked toward my intended trail and saw the water cascading off of it. Even if I did manage to cross, it would be a wet miserable walk to the summit. I checked my GPS, I was only .46 miles from the summit. I remembered mountain guru Ed Viesturs mantra:

"Getting to the summit is optional but getting down is mandatory."

I pulled myself out of the water, took one final look at my map for an alternate route, then headed back down the mountain. I wouldn't be climbing Redfield today.

I returned to the lean-to by 3:30 and pulled out my stove to make an early supper. Grabbing my empty water bottles, I headed to Uphill Brook to where it crossed the trail. I thought I made a wrong turn, for the four-foot stream I hopped over four hours previous was now a raging 30-foot wide deluge of water.

I tested the waters, wading out a few feet and sinking above my knees. I was barely able to stand upright. As the water rushed by me I knew, I wouldn't be able to cross this to get to Marcy, Gray and Skylight mountains tomorrow. Unfortunately, the way I came up and my intended exit was now blocked.

I didn't imagine the waters would recede any overnight, but I'd return to the Uphill Brook lean-to to camp. I could always take the trail to the west and exit via Lake Colden. As I started thinking about that new route, I remembered all the side streams that flowed into the Opalescent River. I bet those would flood out too.

It was then I realized, I had to get off the mountain completely before I was totally blocked in. I threw everything haphazardly in my pack, and started quickly down the trail with less than an hour and a half of sunlight left.

It was good I left when I did, those small streams that I usually snowshoe over were already knee deep in places. I started worrying about the suspension bridge over the Opalescent River, but I was relieved to see the snowbound swinging structure was in sound shape.

I reached Lake Colden after dusk, pulled the headlamp out of my pack and pushed on to the nearby McMartin lean-to. I went to work, melting snows, boiling water, making supper, and switching out of my wet clothing before passing out for the night.

This is one of the many feeder streams for Uphill Brook that I crossed. | Source

Within four hours Uphill Brook went from 4-feet wide to over 30-feet wide. This is when I realized I might be in trouble. | Source

A video of why I turned around

Melting snow and drying boots at McMartin lean-to. | Source

The snowy dam on Lake Colden - that ladder is fun to climb while wearing snowshoes. | Source

Lake Colden Interior Ranger Cabin - what a great place to work. | Source

A red trail marker shows the way up this side of Mt. Colden. | Source

Day 3:Lake Colden up Mount Colden

I slept great that night, only awoken a few times to have a staring contest with a hungry shelter mouse eying my hanging food sack with an ambition toward gluttony. But as I emerged from the cozy confines of my sleeping bag i was glad for the cool crispness in the air and the lack of precipitation as I peered out of the lean-to. This was going to be a nice day.

Before falling asleep, I stored the really wet things like my socks in between my sleeping bag and thermarest mattress - it dries them out a little and keeps them from freezing. The semi-damp things, like my baselayers I stuck in my sleeping bag - my body heat dried them out overnight. Then there were my boots - soaked through and through with continuous deep submersion. If I didn't keep them from freezing, if I could get them on at all in the morning, it would be an uncomfortable walk out. I turned my sleeping bag stuff sack inside out, threw the boots inside, and put them inside the hood of my sleeping bag. True comfort: soaking wet frozen chunks of leather and nylon for a pillow.

Examining the map over a half-nalgene of coffee and a small bag of gorp, I planned my new exit. I had to climb something else while I was out here, but the nearby trails to the MacIntyres were likely to be more stream beds. I hadn't been up the iconic 4,714' Mt. Colden in a few years and it looked like it may actually be a nice clear day for a summit bid. Plus, I was pretty sure that the trail wasn't a drainage from the summit. Then again, I had never been up Colden this particular way.

After hiking around to the East-side of Lake Colden and photographing the interior ranger station across the lake, I reached the Colden Trail. I dropped Big Bertha - my 75 liter Gregory Baltoro, and I packed emergency supplies into my summit pack. For those of you wondering what you should bring along in your summit pack, check out The Ten Outdoor Essentials. The big thing to remember, is that you must be able to spend the night (or nights) with what you have with you.

Again, only snowshoe prints pressing down the two-inches of fresh powder were visible in the snow. It looks like the unfavorable weather was keeping people away, even on the weekend.

The ascent up Mt. Colden was steeper than climbing up the other side, but the trail was one of those pleasant trails with interesting cuts and great views as you turned around. Best of all, the snow was crunchy and the trail was dry; my feet welcomed the change.

As I crossed into the Alpine zone, as marked by signs warning the traveler to stay off fragile plant life, the trail became icier. Though my Tubbs Mountaineer snowshoes grab the ice well while climbing, it is tricky while negotiating the dips on any mountain top. I switched into my crampons, and strapped my snowshoes to my pack.

The ice on top of the mountain was packed hard from the harsh winds and fluctuating temperatures. My crampons barely penetrated the ice while walking; I kicked in each step as I climbed higher and higher. The indentations on the ice would make great places to lock my heels as I descended.

The summit of Colden is a plateau, the actual summit located amongst a small stand of wind-beaten spruce. The better views are along the ridge looking down toward Lake Colden and over to the MacIntyre Range. I could see people on the summit of the Algonquin across Lake Colden, and I zoomed in with my camera to see the black specks waving their arms in jubilation on top of the 5114' peak.

I began to chill down and threw on my down summit jacket as I took in the awesome view. Soon, I heard voices and saw several people coming up from the Lake Arnold Trail. Besides dots on distant peaks, they were the first people I saw since Marcy Dam. I chatted with them a bit, and let them be with their own time on the summit.

I started down the mountain, bracing with my ice axe to self-arrest myself if needed. It would be a long way down with a very sudden stop if I slipped.

Despite a pretty miserable previous day, the cold crispness and the shining sun made this the best day I ever had on Colden and one of my better days in the High Peaks.

Passing through ice-encrusted boulders in Colden's alpine zone. | Source

When it became really icy, I switched out of my Tubbs Mountaineer snowshoes and into my Stubai crampons. | Source

Safety Tip

When it is this icy and steep, switch out snowshoes for crampons - especially while descending. It's easier to kick steps in ice with crampons.

Summit of Mt Colden

Looking toward the MacIntyre Range from Colden's summit. | Source

Looking South from Colden's summit. | Source

Avalanche Lake is one of the most beautiful spots in the Adirondack Park. | Source

A stone cairn (AKA - pile o' rocks) marks the Trap Dike. | Source

Day 3 Continued: Avalanche Lake and out to Adirondack Loj

After reuniting with my behemoth pack at the base of Mt Colden and reassembling my kit, I headed down to the snowy shore of the Lake. The snowshoe tracks in front of me alternated between the trail and the icy lake. Having had pretty bad luck with ice in the last couple days, I opted for soil under the snow.

Finally I came to one of the most beautiful places in the Adirondack Park, maybe in the world: Avalanche Lake. I only wish I had the photographic skill and equipment to do it justice, but like all beautiful places - you have to see it for yourself.

Avalanche Lake, so named for the prevalence of avalanches and landslides in this area, is sandwiched in between Avalanche and Colden Mountains. The narrow lake stretches a mile between sheer cliffs. In a few spots, catwalks, or "Hitch up Matilda's," are bolted directly to the rock face. These walkways earning their moniker from Adirondack Guide William Nye's famous depiction of carrying of a woman on his shoulders through the waters of the Lake. According to the stories, the woman's family yelled "Hitch up, Matilda!" as she dipped closely to the water. Ahh, the many pleasures of guiding...

I knew the Trap Dike, a large cleft in rock that leads to the summit of Colden, suffered some changes as well due to the torrential rains of Tropical Storm Irene. I hiked along the herd path on the Eastern shore and was amazed at the amount of trees and vegetation pushed down the mountain. I picked my way through the flotsam like I did on the Cascade Snow Princess Slide. Many of the small trees than clung frailly to the rocks in that pass were now at the base of the mountain and it looked steeper than ever. It looks like the Dike is now a "technical" climb - especially during winter.

After checking out the Trap Dike and boiling some water for soup, this was the perfect place to chill for a few hours and recharge in the winter sunlight. I gradually made my way around the lake over the copious boulders and made it to the north end as the sun began to set: perfect timing.

I waved goodbye to the Lake and headed through Avalanche Pass toward Marcy Dam. There is no cooler place to be than Avalanche Pass as the sun begins to set over the mountains. The sudden stillness of the Pass combined with the myriad of boulders rained down over the centuries with twilight's shadows dancing around you, makes this a beautiful yet slightly eerie place.

By the time I reached Avalanche Camp and began to retrace the steps I took a couple days prior, the early winter evening had set in. The trail is easy though to Marcy Dam, so I left my headlamp in my pack. I did however need my light as I reached the reroute over Marcy Brook. What was a rock hop and a wet foot, was now calf deep. Oh well, only two miles to go: I hoofed through it.

I ran into another group of hikers that had just climbed Algonquin and were now heading back to the Loj. Adjusting my gaiters and waiting for them to pass, I walked back in the nighttime quietness to the parking lot.

I've been asked, "why do I hike in winter?" Quite simply, it is to test myself, to push my body and mind as far as it can go. I guess I found out that waist deep was as far as I was willing to go. Of course, the thing that makes a fantastic trip, is when you are wet and miserable and close to death. It makes for great story telling and memories for a lifetime that only took hours to make.

A Hitch up Matilda along Avalanche Lake. | Source

The Trap Dike in Winter

The Trap Dike as seen across Avalanche Lake. | Source

Sunset on Avalanche Lake

Looking south toward a setting sun at Avalanche Lake. | Source

Avalanche Pass is an eerie yet beautiful place, especially as the sun sets.

2026-02-24T09:35:00.000-08:00

Introduction

Since the introduction of the modern decked snowshoe, snowshoeing has grown immensely in popularity among winter sports enthusiasts and amateurs alike. For people looking for a physically demanding and soul soothing fitness activity to start the New Year off right, they should try strapping on a pair of snowshoes.

I worked in outdoor retail for years and each year people would would walk up to the snowshoe display and stare with an inquisitive yet dumfounded glare at the myriad shapes and sizes of snowshoes. As I greeted them, awakening them from their snowshoe stupor, they usually asked, "How do you go snowshoeing?"

Though the physical mechanism of snowshoeing is simple, just place one foot in front of the other, there are a few things you need to know before getting started for a fun and safe snowshoeing experience.

The snowshoe you choose depends upon your weight and the terrain in which you'll be hiking. In the above picture, me in a pair of Atlas 1025 snowshoes. | Source

Heel lifts, like this one on the Tubbs Mountaineer make climbing much easier on your legs. | Source

Selecting Snowshoes

Snowshoes are varied and as bountiful as the stars and it is overwhelming when you start to shop for them. To make things easier remember the following rules:

The larger the snowshoe the more floatation you have (ie - the more weight is displaces). The more floatation you have, the less you sink in the snow.
The larger the snowshoe the heavier the weight on your feet. The more weight on your feet the more energy you expend and the harder it is to walk.

When shopping for snowshoes, you'll need to know two things:

How much weight, including gear and yourself, will you be carrying?

Each manufacturer lists a recommended size (in inches) for the amount of weight to be carried. This however is not gospel: I range from 25-inch to 36-inch models myself based on the conditions in which I am hiking.

How and where do you plan on using your snowshoes?

Besides length based on weight, snowshoes are also sold according to usage. If you plan on sticking to the local park, you can get away with a pair of recreational models. However, if you plan on venturing into the backcountry, you will need a model designed for hard use with stronger materials and more aggressive crampons.

I have several models of snowshoes based on the conditions I plan on hiking in. In deep unbroken powder when I'm wearing a heavy pack, I'll wear my monster Tubbs 36-inch Mountaineers. In moderate conditions, with heavy trail breaking I'll wear the 30-inch Atlas 1030 model. With broken out trails and with lots of climbing I'll wear a 25-inch like the Tubbs Mountaineer 25, the Atlas 1025, or the Tubbs Alp Pro 25.

Some snowshoes like the MSR Denali (below) have adjustable length tails available so you can modify the shoe for any condition.

Snowshoe Crampons

Snowshoe crampons make walking on ice and climbing very easier. Left, Tubbs Mountaineers / Right, Tubbs, TRK | Source

Check out the modular snowshoe system from MSR

MSR Evo Snow Shoes (22-Inch, Navy)

Buy Now

I use Leki Super Makalu poles like these here year around. I just change out the baskets to "mud baskets" after the snow melts. | Source

Snowshoe Poles

Though many people associate poles with skiing, they aid greatly in snowshoeing as well. Why do they help? Well, why gliding over slick surfaces and over uneven terrain, four legs are always better than two. Besides the obvious benefit to balance, you also gain additional propulsion by using your arms to push you forward.

Still not convinced about poles? Walk over to a chair and step up onto it - notice the amount of stress placed on your knee. Now grab a couple of brooms, hold them perpendicular to the floor and repeat the stair stepping exercise. Notice how much easier it was to climb with the addition of the poles.

Characteristics of a good snowshoeing pole:

Sturdy construction
Reputable Brand: Leki, Komperdell, Black Diamond
Wide powder/snowflake baskets
Adjustable length for varying conditions

To use poles why snowshoeing, adjust the length so with elbows bent at a 90-degree angle you lower arms are parallel to the ground. As you walk, swing the pole opposite of the foot moving forward and plant into snow. Alternate pole plants as stride increases.

Snowshoeing Boots

Though some manufacturers have marketed binding specific boots that clip into snowshoes like skis, the majority of snowshoes don't require a specific type of boot. I've worn snowshoes with gore-tex trail runners and I've worn them with stiff mountaineering boots. The beauty of the universal bindings is that you can wear the type of footwear you need for the conditions you are facing.

Generally, for most people, the best boot for snowshoeing is a winter hiking boot. A winter hiking boot that you plan on using for snowshoeing should have the following features:

Made of waterproof /breathable materials
Light insulation like 200-400 grams of thinsulate or equivalent -if the boots are too warm, your feet will sweat too much.
A snowshoe binding heel - many winter hiking boots have plastic ridges along the back of the heel to grab the binding better.
Gaiter hooks - Most people wear gaiters while snowshoeing and these hooks below the laces will help keep your gaiters in place.
I, and many other snowshoers, prefer a boot which is a mid or ankle-high cut. Even when the snow is deep, you don't need a high boot. Augment your lower boots with gaiters to keep the snow out of your boots.

Snowshoeing in the Adirondack Colvin Range in April. Note the gaiters: they do a fantastic job of keeping your lower legs dry and snow out of your boots. | Source

Clothing for Snowshoeing

When I take people snowshoeing for the first time, there is usually one problem with their clothing - they are wearing far too much. After trudging through the snow for fifteen minutes I turn to them, as the sweat soaks their clothing and pours off their brow, and ask them, "I bet you wish you weren't wearing that heavy parka now."

However, given the potential danger of winter weather, you can't venture out in just your skivvies either. The trick is to utilize a technical clothing system.

Remember the following pointers:

Synthetics or Wool:

Wet clothing, either from snow or sweat, makes you colder; therefore, wear clothing made from synthetic materials or wool which retain thermal properties even when wet. Make sure you take care of synthetics according to their care label and clean them regularly to enhance performance.

Layers:

Several light layers will keep you warmer than one thick layer. When dressed in layers it is easy to trap air (which is easier to warm) in between the layers.
Also as your level of energy increases and decreases, it is easy to peel off or add a layer to maintain thermal regulation in your body.
Remember your system should contain a wicking layer, an insulation layer, and a weather layer.

Hats, Gloves, Mittens, and Balaclavas:

Grandma use to always yell at you when you didn't wear a hat - and for good reason. Your head is a collection of blood vessels and acts as a major radiation point for your body.
In order to regulate heat, you'll probably find in necessary to carry a couple hats and facemasks of varying weight. As energy output increases put on a lighter hat then if you stop to take a break - put your heavier hat back on.
Hands also rapidly change temperature. My favorite system is to wear a pair of lightweight water-resistant/breathable liner gloves with an overmitt. Use removable wool or synthetic liners in the mitts when conditions get colder.

If you are planning on going above treeline and plan on switching into crampons, make sure you bring straps to secure your snowshoes to your pack. | Source

Safety Equipment

Always ask yourself before leaving the trailhead, "Am I prepared to spend the night, in case I get hurt?"

The things you should always carry on any outdoor activity are called the "Ten Essentials" and you can read a full article on these items HERE.

At the least, carry the following items in your backpack:

Water in an insulated holder and high-energy food
Extra clothing - layers
Headlamp
Pocketknife
Compass
Map
Sun Protection - yes, even in winter
First aid kit
Matches/lighter
Fire starter
Emergency blanket though I prefer a space-type bivy for winter
Whistle

The Outbound Dan Human Critical Four:

Knife
Compass
Whistle
Fire Starting System

For winter backpackers, you may want to check out my complete Winter Packing List.

Where to go Snowshoeing

So you have snowshoes, the proper clothing, and safety equipment - now you just need a place to go. The great things about snowshoeing, unlike cross country skiing, is that you can pretty much do it anywhere you can walk when there isn't snow on the ground.

As a reminder, watch your local trail heads for "ski-only" trails. Though snowshoes are nowhere near as destructive as not wearing snowshoes to the local trail snowpack, it is still difficult to ski through the depressions that snowshoes make. So if the trail says, "ski only" and you are not wearing skis - please stay off.

As a cross country skier and a snowshoer myself, I have a dream that someday snowshoers and skiers will live in harmony.

Climbing Cascade's Snow Princess Slide

2026-02-24T09:29:00.000-08:00

Climbing Snow Princess Cascade Slide: Adirondack High Peaks

Check out my adventure in the Adirondack High Peaks. | Source

A Slide Caused by Hurricane Irene

Cascade Mountain and its neighbor Porter are, according to McMartin and Ingersoll, the most accessible of all the High Peaks and "probably easiest to climb." The exposed summit of the 4098' Cascade has one of the best views in the Adirondacks.

The last time I climbed Cascade and Porter in June a few years back, the worn trail was full of people negotiating the mud and rocks, and the summit was alive with the chatter of many excited people who had just climbed their first mountain. During one of my ascents in December, with snow flurries in the air and ice beneath my feet, it was much more solitary, especially because I took a new, undesignated route up the mountain.

The new slide on Cascade Mountain | Source

When Tropical Storm Irene pummeled the High Peaks in late August of 2011, the topography of the Adirondacks changed as fierce rains washed down the steep slopes of the mountains. Trees rooted in thin soil along once small drainages were swept to the valleys and gave rise to new slides with large expanses of bare rock. The small stream that feeds the waterfalls on the northwestern slope of Cascade Mountain was overwhelmed with the force of water and expanded into a new scar on the mountain. This new slide, the "Snow Princess" Slide, offers an exciting new way to climb this extremely popular mountain.

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The trailhead for the slide climb is at this parking area. | Source

Finding the Cascade Trailhead

Though you could park near the very busy Cascade Mountain trailhead, drive about.8 miles toward Keene Valley to the small picnic area between Upper and Lower Cascade Lakes. There is ample parking, a few picnic tables, and an outhouse. Proceed over the wooden bridge at the southern end of the parking area, and follow the very clear herd path that parallels the creek.

Cascade Trailhead

upper cascade lake:

Upper Cascade Lake, New York, USA

get directions

The trailhead for the new slide is in the parking area between Upper and Lower Cascade Lakes

Climbing the Cascade Slide

I continued on the well worn herd path along the creek uphill toward the showering cascade. Ice covered the rocks and made them slippery, like bowling balls greased in crisco. I stopped and attached my Kahtoola Microspikes to my keen boots for much needed traction. Microspikes are ideal in mixed conditions with rock, ice, and mud. Plus they are easier to walk in on thinner ice than a full crampon. In preparation for the steep climbing ahead, I left my trekking poles in the car - on this trip they would have been a greater burden than a help. This was the first High Peak I've climbed without trekking poles since 1997 when I bike toured the area - it was strange to be without them. I kept my pack light, carrying the 10 outdoor essentials to make sure my climb was safe as it could be. I knew if I fell, I may lay there for a couple days until help came, so I was as prepared to stay the night if need be.

I was glad my pack was light as I began pulling myself over the rocks and the jumble of trees washed down the mountain from the storm. Soon I reached the waterfalls splashpool with a fair volume of water and ice cascading into it. Taking Bill Ingersoll's advice, I skirted to the left of the steep rock into the woods where I found a lightly used herd path. I jumped in between the woodline and the rock face frequently, changing to afford the most energy efficient, scenic, and environmentally conscious route available.

Above the waterfall, where the slide starts the grade varies and requires good balance and a few skills in rock slide traversal. Remember to keep an eye ahead to look for future obstacles so you don't have to cross the slide several times. Take special care for parts of the slide still covered in dirt. If stepped upon, this dirt can easily dislodge itself and you can take a dangerous slide of your own. Also, given time and care, this soil may eventually grow new plant life. As with all things, please tread lightly and preserve the wilderness so others have a chance to enjoy it.

After carefully climbing up the snowy soil-covered slope, I reached the immense headwall - a steep smooth inclined plane of rock. There are few hand holds in the rock, and the ice didn't have the proper thickness to be safe to walk on. At this point, I took to the right through the trees, spying out onto ledges when possible. Soon, the rocky precipice disappeared and the forest grew denser as I climbed higher and higher toward the summit.

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Source

Above the Slide to the Summit of Cascade

As the hiker skirts around the headwall and finds themselves .3 miles from Cascade's summit, they must weave their way through the dense woods to meet the summit rock. I took the right flank around the headwall into the primarily birch woods which has a wide spacing making it easy to negotiate. I could find no discernible herd path, but kept on pushing forward and upward. Occasionally I checked my position on my GPS just to make sure I was heading the correct way.

As I trudged uphill, the birch trees began to wane as the spruces began converging into a twisted mass of impenetrable conifers. I traversed laterally across the mountain searching for the path of least resistance and found myself unable to find one. I glimpsed a rock outcropping and wove my way through the branches toward it. The wind howled more intensely as I picked my way carefully through the frozen trees. Finally, I reached a rock wall, flung my pack on top of it, and mantled myself up the face.

I crept out on the rock portion of the northern summit and was careful not to step on the fragile arctic alpine flora that abounds in limited numbers in places like this. I bounded across the rocks and walked against the winds to the peak. Soon I found the survey marker and took in the 360-degree view from the summit.

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Finally, after pushing though the trees you begin to reach the rocky summit. | Source

Porter, Cascade's Neighbor

Though I didn't "need" it except for the infamous GRID, I decided to climb Porter today too. Porter has some great views, especially of the Great Range from a lookout near its summit. I remember the first time I did Porter it was in the clouds and I ran right over the summit and kept going. After a long descent I though, "this is the longest .7 mile ever." After looking at my GPS, I realized I overshot the summit by about half a mile. Though perhaps Porter's summit isn't as spectacular as some peaks, it is a pleasant walk with the potential for great views.

The views were plenty on this day, exploring the various outlooks that surround the summit dome. Porter is a quieter summit than Cascade, even when it isn't snowing. Many folks make the journey to the junction, yet never press on to climb Porter. Surely, some don't realize its proximity or its beauty and I am sure that many a pilgrim are tired after making the sojourn. However, Porter is a peak to climb in its own right.

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A good set of lightweight waterproof/windproof/breathable shells are paramount for hiking the High Peaks in all seasons. Here I am on the summit of Porter. | Source

The Return Trip

Perhaps I don't have the greatest sense of balance, but I have poor luck descending slides. Yes, I can climb up them all day with no problems, but once I start to go down - I go down. Generally if I have the choice, I like climbing up a slide and descending a more gentle trail. It is surely more gentle on my knees, elbows, and tailbone. Though the descent down the slide wouldn't be too bad, I didn't relish the idea of bushwhacking through the tangle of spruces again. So, after climbing Porter, I headed down the regular cascade trail .

Along the way down I met four pairs of hikers that were climbing Cascade that day. For some, it was their first time on the mountain, and for one it was to be their first Adirondack High Peak. I am hope they all got the experience they were looking for, I know I did. The snow started coming down harder as I was halfway down the mountain as the snow clouds closed in around the peaks. I made it down the trail to the road quickly and then walked the remaining distance along the road back to my car. As I walked alongside of Cascade Lake I kept my eye on the new slide and though how amazing it was that I had the honor of climbing it.

As you near the parking area, the trail gets more gentle and even has steps. I think many a novice hiker are lulled into thinking the entire trail is like this. | Source

Climbing the Cascade Mountain slide
People driving between Keene and Lake Placid can see dramatic evidence of Tropical Storm Irene: a slide scar in the drainage between the two Cascade
The Adirondack Forty-Sixers
The Adirondack Forty-Sixers are an organization of hikers who have climbed all 46 High Peaks of the Adirondack Mountains.

Snow Priness Slide Video

Cascade Summit Video

Hiking Trail to the Eternal Flame Falls

2026-02-24T09:20:00.000-08:00

Hiking Trail to the Eternal Flame Falls at Chestnut Ridge Park

Discover the eternal flame at Chestnut Ridge Park. | Source

About Eternal Flame Falls

Hike one of the trails to the Eternal Flame Falls and you'll find a dancing natural flame behind a cascade of water. Admit it, the only thing that can make a waterfall cooler is having fire behind it. Even better, though there are several hundred wild flames, this is the only known natural occurrence combining falling water and fire in the world.

With most round-trip hikes to the falls lasting under two miles, this amazing phenomenon is accessible to many people. This spectacle is located in Chestnut Ridge Park, just about six miles from Highmark Stadium, where the Buffalo Bills dazzle Western New Yorkers with their skills in football greatness.

This natural flame burns behind this waterfall in Chestnut Ridge Park. | Source

The map and trail descriptions in this article, detail the journey from both the Corral and Seufert Road trailheads.

So whether you are looking for a family-friendly hike in the Buffalo area or to be inspired by a natural wonder, the walk to the Eternal Flame Falls never disappoints.

I have been well acquainted with the Flame, having hiked to see its beauty dozens of times in various conditions. As you can see from my photos and videos I've taken over the years, the flame is timeless, even throughout its seasonal cycles.

The Eternal Flame behind the waterfall. | Source

What Causes the Flame?

Though I am inclined to think that there is a dragon sleeping in a hidden shale cave, the flame is the result of some sort of natural gas fissure. At some point in history, some brave adventurer had the foresight and the courage to light the gas and create the spectacle. Many surmise that Native Americans were the first to discover the Flame and I can only imagine what religious and practical significance it had for them.

Recently, researchers from Indiana University have studied the Eternal Flame to find out the exact cause of its existence. Their findings were published in the May 2013 issue of Marine and Petroleum Geology and have caused renewed interest in the Flame.

Opposed to other eternal flames, the shale of this Chestnut Ridge feature wasn't as warm or as old as expected. Therefore, these geologists surmised that the process here in New York is a new form of gas production that requires additional study.

Occasionally, especially in the Spring, the fire has been flooded out and extinguished. It is quite alright to relight the Flame as no terrible Darth Vaderish burning incidents have been reported.

Fragile shale undercuts most of the ravines in Chestnut Ridge Park, so don't stand too close to the edge. | Source

Hike Responsibly

This part of Chestnut Ridge Park is an especially fragile and unique eco-system, please treat it with respect. While hiking here, practice Leave No Trace backcountry ethics by "Taking only pictures and leaving only footprints." That said, please be careful where you leave your footprints.

Stay on the trails.
Stay off of ravine walls and do not climb on the shale.
Pack out all trash with you.
If you hike with a pet, make sure it is leashed and clean up after it.
Do not collect wildflowers, rocks, or artifacts while in the park. Leave them there for others to enjoy.

Let's make sure that future generations of adventurers can enjoy the Flame, by treading lightly and preserving this area.

Safety Tips

This trail has been the site of several recent accidents and even the death of one teenager slipping into the ravine. As with all outdoor adventures, take care as you are responsible for your own safety.

The trail to the Eternal Flame can be rather slippery in places, especially once you descend into the Gorge and begin walking in the creek bed. Closed-toe shoes are a must for hiking and many folks change into water shoes or a hybrid sandal like a Keen Newport for walking in the water.

Do not walk barefoot or in flip-flops. Wear proper footwear like hiking boots.
Carry the 10 essentials.
File a trip plan with someone back home so they know where you are going and when you'll be back.
Consider carrying a hiking stick or trekking poles to steady yourself.
Stay on marked trails.
Avoid venturing near the edge of the ravine - many are fragile undercut shale.
Do not climb ravine walls.
Hike with a buddy.
Avoid hiking when the trails are slippery and muddy.
Don't rely on technology, but carry a fully charged cell phone.

Eternal Flame Trailheads

Seufert Road Trailhead:

6060-6398 Seufert Road, Orchard Park, NY 14127, USA

get directions

Coordinates: 42.70002, -078.75253

Corral Trailhead on Chestnut Ridge Road:

6728-6814 Chestnut Ridge Road, Orchard Park, NY 14127, USA

get directions

Coordinates 42.70203,- 078.74729

Trail map of the Eternal Flame Waterfall | Source

A variety of trail markers on the way to the eternal flame. | Source

Note on the Trail Map Above

I created the above map using Google Earth and the track log from my GPS. I highlighted the different sections of the trail in colors; however, be aware that the actual trail markings do not reflect these colors. Most of the actual markings of the trails in Chestnut Ridge differ greatly, due to a motley group of trail maintainers over the years without a unified vision.

Likewise, I have labeled a few of the intersections on the map to make it easier to follow; these junctions are not labeled within the park.

Gentle trails through hemlock groves. | Source

Follow these markers to find the Flame. | Source

Corral Trailhead to Intersection A (Magenta)

Of the two trailheads, this one has the best parking and the clearest markings to walk down to the Flame. At one point, the parking lot was a horse corral. You'll hear many locals say, "meet me at the pony corral" even though there hasn't been a pony here in years.

From the parking lot, head into the woods down the trail.
Look for trail markers depicting a small flame on the trees; you will follow these down to the ravine.
Pass through a grove of hemlock trees.
Arrive at Intersection A after walking .17 miles.

Walking left will take you to the Seufert Road trailhead, walking right will take you to the waterfall.

The trailhead at Seufert Road. | Source

My hiking poles up against the redwood log. | Source

The trail crosses over Shale Creek at this spot. | Source

Seufert Road Trailhead to Intersection A (Orange)

At one point, the Seufert Road trailhead was the entrance to the Shale Creek Preserve. There is roadside parking for several cars. On this trail, you will want to follow the blue block trail markers, which are standard until you reach Intersection A.

Begin walking on a jeep-trail past the gate by following the blue blocks.
At .04 miles you will reach Intersection C with an unmarked trail. Following this unmarked trail allows you to see the waterfall from above; however, it does not give you access to the lower gorge.
The trail opens up to a large area at .10 miles with a concrete slab from an old pavilion, a kiosk (which in May was in disrepair) and a large log. Take a look at this log, it is the trunk from a California Redwood tree. It was brought here when the Buffalo Museum of Science controlled access to this property.
After this clearing, take the trail into the woods.
At .17 miles, cross a small creek on rocks. There is no bridge here and in spring you may end up with a wet boot. After the crossing, trudge up a small hill.
You will reach Intersection A after walking .23 miles.

The left branch takes you to the Eternal Flame
If you go right, you will reach the Corral Trailhead.

Looking down the Shale Creek Gorge. | Source

Water still runs downs the waterfall, even in late summer. | Source

Outbound Dan at the Flame in Winter. | Source

Trail Intersection A to the Waterfalls (Yellow)

Whether you decided to walk from Chestnut Ridge Road or Seufert Road, you should end up at Intersection A. From here, you will take the trail down into the ravine and end up at the Eternal Flame Falls. The path is marked with both metal flame placards and blue block trail markers.

As the most common approach to the falls is via the corral, all mileage is based on a trek from that trailhead.

From the intersection, head North on the trail on the ridge above the creek.
Soon, you'll hear the waterfall below with occasional glimpses into the ravine on your left. Be careful if you wander to the edge - it is a 150-foot drop in some places.
At .34 miles from the Corral TH, begin to descend gradually into the gorge.
Near the creek, reach Intersection C at .43 miles with the Red Trail. This 2.73-mile trail makes an interesting alternative approach to the area.
Turn left on the trail and follow the stream bed up Shale Creek Gorge.
At this point, the trail winds to the left, right, and in Shale Creek. Use your best judgment when picking a path and be careful of the slippery rocks.
There are several small waterfalls in this passage, there is a particularly pretty one at .64 miles.
At .75 miles from the trailhead, you reach the base of the Eternal Flame Falls.
To return to your vehicle, simply retrace your steps.

Trail Etiquette Alert!

When the area around the waterfall is busy, allow others to have their time with the cascade by giving them space. It is hard to marvel at the beauty of the natural world when someone is pushing you out of the way to take a picture.

Do like your kindergarten teacher taught you and take turns.

The Waterfall

Eternal Flame Falls is a thirty-foot cascade on Shale Creek, which is a tributary of Eighteen Mile Creek. The grotto that contains the flame is located to the right of the waterfall as you are looking at it.

Though some guides advocate climbing up the cliff using root handholds, this is dangerous to you and destructive to the environment.

Weekends during the summer can be busy. | Source

Other Trail Options

Besides the two trails listed, there are other ways to reach the Eternal Flame Falls.

Some aquatic-minded folks wade up Shale Creek the entire way from inside Chestnut Ridge Park. Avid hikers, use Chestnut Ridge's path network and approach the falls via the red trail. This long approach is by far my favorite way to visit the Falls; it is surely the road less traveled

Someday perhaps, I'll pen the trail descriptions for these. For now, consider this a way to explore the park and make your own discoveries.

The one approach I don't suggest is bushwhacking and scaling down the cliffs into the Gorge via one of the gullies. Not only is this dangerous to you, but dangerous to the fragile eco-system.

The Eternal Flame lights the darkness. | Source

A Note for Night Hikers

Thought trekking to the Flame at night is popular, the slippery terrain can be perilous after the sun sets. Further, Chestnut Ridge Park officially closes after dusk, so you are hiking "out of bounds" so to speak.

As always, be careful and follow regulations.

The Eternal Flame really shines at night. | Source

Closing Thoughts

If you've had the opportunity to hike to the Eternal Flame at Chestnut Ridge Park or have seen another one around the world, let us know about your experience. If you have any questions about this hike, let me know. I'd rather have informed people hiking in the woods than a bunch of yahoos wandering off trail and destroying this unique area.

As always, thanks for reading!

Cooking Eggs in a Freezer Bag for an Easy Camping Breakfast

2026-02-24T09:18:00.000-08:00

How to Cook an Omelet in a Freezer Bag for an Easy Camping Breakfast

Add a few strips of bacon to your omelet scramble for a breakfast that will take you miles to hike off. | Source

The Joys of Freezer Bag Cooking

Camping in the wild doesn't mean you can't enjoy your favorite culinary creation, and that is why one of my favorite meals is the freezer bag omelet.

Breakfast seems to be problematic while dining in the backcountry. Ask many campers what their breakfast consists of, and you'll hear the list of usual suspects: Pop-Tarts, oatmeal, and cold cereal. Surely, when I'm out ultralight backpacking and moving fast through the backcountry, a granola bar is how I break my fast before hitting the trail. But when canoeing and car camping, I have time for eggs.

I picked up this great technique for cooking eggs while I was in the Boy Scouts. As everyone knows, a small group of boys trying to cook can be, well, interesting, to say the least. This was one of the few things that even we couldn't screw up.

This recipe for cooking an omelet in a bag is easy to follow and easy to prepare. Plus, with freezer bag cooking, chow time is mess-free and devoid of any pot scrubbing.

So, Why Cook Your Eggs in a Freezer Bag Anyway?

It all comes down to easy clean-up. Anyone who has ever tried to scrape a concoction of eggs off a frying pan with biodegradable soap in bear country will understand why easy preparation, cooking, and clean-up are critical.

With this process of freezer bag cooking, there are no cooking pans to clean up. You are merely left with a couple of quarts of hot water, which is great for washing up other dishes.

Though I usually use a fuel-efficient white gas stove, here is the same recipe using an MSR Pocket Rocket canister stove. | Source

Cook Time

Prep time: 5 min

Cook time: 15 min

Ready in: 20 min

Yields: Serves two hungry campers

Cookware Needs

Camp stove and fuel (I like the MSR Dragonfly)
Three-quart cooking pot or larger
Flexible cutting board
Sharp knife
Plastic long-handled spoon
1-quart freezer bag

Ingredients

6 large eggs
1/4 cup cheddar cheese, shredded
1/3 cup yellow onion, chopped
1/3 cup green pepper, chopped
1/3 cup red or yellow pepper, chopped
1 tbsp red pepper flakes
salt
pepper

Instructions for Cooking

Start the stove and begin boiling 2 quarts of water in a large pot. Leave enough room for the water displaced that will be displaced when you add the eggs.
Dice onion and peppers into small pieces and add to the freezer bag.
Add a bag of veggies to boiling water for 5 minutes.
Remove veggies from the water, and add eggs, crushed red pepper, salt and pepper.
Knead the bag and place it back into boiling water for about 10 minutes (or until eggs are cooked enough for you). Flip the bag over at least once to ensure even cooking.
Turn off stove, remove bag from boiling water, and PLOP the omelet onto your breakfast plate.

Prepare Your Cooking Area and Ingredients

Remember to keep your cooking area clean as you prep and cook your breakfast, and you will avoid critters in your campsite later.

Save preparation time and clean up by dicing your vegetables at home and bringing them in the freezer bag you plan on cooking in.

Store your eggs in a plastic camp egg carrier so they don't break. Some people coat their eggs in olive oil so they last longer, but I've never had a problem with eggs going rancid.

Camping egg container | Source

Boil your vegetables first so you don't overcook your eggs. | Source

Start Cooking Your Vegetables

For the longest time, I threw everything in the bag at once and cooked it all together. However, I found that either the veggies were undercooked or the eggs were overcooked.

I achieved a more even consistency by placing the chopped onions and peppers in the boiling water for a few minutes prior to adding the eggs.

After the vegetables are partially cooked mix in the eggs, and add in some flavoring

Add Eggs and Seasonings

After your vegetables are sufficiently tender, crack open your eggs and add them to the bag. While the bag is open, you might as well add all your seasonings too. If you like hot eggs, this is a great time to add some Tabasco sauce.

After everything is in the freezer bag that you plan on eating, push out the air and seal it. Really: make sure it is sealed—closed—shut tight—secured.

Now knead the bag to mix up your omelet. Of course, with your tummy rumbling and mouth salivating like Pavlov's dog, we can already tell you need it. Homophones aside, squeeze and shake the bag till you meet the consistency you desire.

Freezer bag cooking in action | Source

Let It Cook

Now carefully add the omelet in a freezer bag to your pot of boiling water. Generally, the bag will float on its side.

About five minutes into the cooking process, flip the bag over so that you cook the mixture evenly. Some people cooking eggs in this manner will periodically open the bag and stir the congealed egg-and-veggie concoction. Having tried this technique, I found it doesn't aid in the cooking time.

No Messy Clean Up With Freezer Bag Cooking

After the eggs appear to be done, it is time to turn off your stove and remove the freezer bag. When you push the egg from the bag, it will be a solid omelet-like wonder.

You have a choice; you can either serve it as a solid loaf-like omelet or scramble it. Generally, I scramble the mixture and crumble a little bit of the pre-cooked bacon on top.

For those campers looking for no mess at all, you can even eat the mixture right out of the freezer bag. When you are done, turn the bag inside out and lick it clean. I have gotten two boils on a bag before it loses its ability to seal.

So there you have it, an absolutely delicious camping breakfast without mess or fuss.

Top 6 Tips for Winter Hiking with Kids

2026-02-24T09:16:00.000-08:00

Top 6 Tips for Winter Hiking With Kids

Kids enjoy a snack on a winter hike.

It's Zero Degrees, and You Want to Take the Kids Out Hiking?

Don't keep the kids cooped up in winter when there is a world to explore out there. In winter, landscapes are transformed and that same park you went to all summer now offers new discoveries for growing hikers.

How to Take Kids on a Winter Hike Safely When There's Snow or Ice

However, there is a bit more to winter hiking with kids than wrestling them into an oversized puffy coat and mittens. As a dad who has his mini-hikers out in all sorts of weather, here are a few of my best tips.

Set your goal to an interesting feature like this ice cave for winter hikes. | Source

1. Set Realistic Goals

Even for an adult, winter hiking is hard. The days are shorter and every step feels like swimming through wet cement. With kids in tow, it can be insanely hard for them and more difficult for you. Set your goals realistically!

Don't Go Too Far

In winter, I plan on going half the distance in the same amount of time as I cover in summer. This seems to be a good formula to accommodate tough conditions, layer changes and extra snack breaks.

Start Easy

Of course with kids, you can always build up their strength and resiliency but this takes time and multiple hikes. I suggest starting with easier winter hikes and progressing to more difficult ones. Remember, you want your kids to have a fun experience exploring winter with you—don't torture them.

2. Take Frequent Snack Breaks

As a parent, I've learned that most problems can be solved with a snack. Whether they're crabby, bored, or tired, a snack will revitalize their hiking stamina. In the warmer months, kids can demolish that bag of Swedish fish trail mix, but in winter, you might need a couple of bags. Plus, those delicious gummy fish may be frozen solid now.

We tend to eat more in the cold because our body demands more energy to keep warm through the process of thermogenesis. As kids' stomachs resemble the Pit of Sarlacc anyway, they will drain your food bag dry. I like to prepare snacks that don't freeze easily and have long-burn energy.

My Top Snacks Recommendations

GORP (trail mix): peanuts, raisins, M&Ms
Meat sticks (jerky)
Dried banana chips
Peanut butter or cheese and crackers
Cereal bars

Winter layering for kids | Source

3. Use a Clothing Layering System

While hiking in winter, it seems like you are constantly changing and adjusting your clothing. The trick is to stay warm and dry without sweating. When you sweat, your clothing becomes soaked from the inside and that wet clothing creates conductive heat loss. Though it may be tempting to throw the kids in an I-can't-put-my-arms-down snowsuit, they will probably end up cold and uncomfortable.

Layers Are Better

Our main layers are a wicking layer, an insulating layer, weather layers. and sitting layers.

The wicking layer is your basic long underwear. It is worn snugly on the body and its main job is to move moisture away from the skin. Ideal materials for this layer are merino wool, polypropylene, and cocona.
The insulating layer maintains warmth in the body by trapping heat in air pockets. Fleece is great and insulates even when it becomes wet. Synthetic and down lightweight puffy layers are great here too. Adding or subtracting a fleece shirt is a great way to thermoregulate.
The weather layer shields the body from wetness and wind. Here, look for materials that are waterproof and breathable. We wear rain jackets most of the time in winter, though the kids really like to wear softshells in calmer weather. Rain pants work great here too over a pair of fleece pants.

Remember how we were taking lots of snack breaks? That's where the sitting layer comes in. Carry an extra warm puffy jacket in your pack and throw that on your kids when you stop for breaks. It will keep them warm while hooking up their feedbag.

As always, carry extra layers and extra hats and mittens with you. Weather can change in an instant and things like falling into a creek can happen.

Kids snowshoeing through the forest. | Source

4. Have Kids Wear Ice Traction or Snowshoes

A fall on the ice can quickly end a family hike and sometimes lead to a dangerous situation. Likewise, post-holing through knee-deep snow is no fun for anyone. Choose the correct boot accessory for your hike. If you are sinking into the snow, you need snowshoes. If you are on hardpacked icy trails, throw some microspikes on your kiddo's boots.

When buying snowshoes, look for something that is sized for your child's weight, is easy to attach, and has ice crampons or grips. My family has used a lot of snowshoes from Tubbs and Yukon Charlies with great results. My kids started on snowshoes at age three; if you can walk, you can snowshoe.

We use our ice-traction devices in more places than our snowshoes. Often called microspikes, these slide over a boot and bite into the ice. When my son was eight, we tried Snowline's Chainsen Light and those were fantastic. In their second year, they show no wear and my daughter is wearing the extra-small version.

Enjoying cocoa on a break while winter hiking with my son. | Source

5. Bring a Thermos of Hot Cocoa

The thing my kids and my Scouts get excited about during winter hiking is stopping and having cocoa. Their little faces light up as their mitten-clad hands firmly grasp that steaming cup of chocolate goodness. The cold and crankiness melt away as they suck down the Swiss Miss.

Sometimes, I'll bring along my MSR Reactor stove, melt snow, and make cocoa on the trail, but most times I bring a thermos with me. I'll make cocoa in the comfort of my kitchen and the sealed thermos keeps it warm for hours. We fill their collapsible camp cups with our magical happy potion.

Maintain Proper Hydration

Make sure kids don't try to solely hydrate themselves on cocoa, though, as dry winter air is just as dehydrating as summer. Take frequent water breaks! Keep your water from freezing by keeping it in an insulated container or even an old wool sock that has lost its mate.

Pulling my daughter in a sled behind me on a winter hike. | Source

6. Bring a Sled or Pulk for the Kids

Want to give yourself a workout? Pull a kid or two (preferably in a sled) behind you on a wilderness trail. As a winter backpacker, I've used a pulk for years for toting my heavier gear behind me. As a dad, I figured out that my backpacking pulk was perfect for little-legged kids who barely started walking. My sled is a simple design of a jet sled junior ice fishing sled with a DIY harness that I cobbled together.

My kids rode in the sled for years and they would get out and hobble around for a bit. Soon their jaunts out of the sled became longer and I got a bit of a break. Eventually, the sled stopped coming with us on most winter hikes. That said, I still take my nine- and five-year-old out for a spin in the sled now and then.

Plans for Making a Kid Hauling Pulk

Tips for winter hiking with kids.

Essential Skills for Night Hiking

2026-02-24T09:14:00.000-08:00

Essential Skills for Night Hiking: Finding Your Way With or Without a Headlamp

Essential skills for night hiking. | Source

Hiking at Night

So you've decided to channel your inner nocturnal nature and mosey out for a night hike. Before blindly stepping into the woods, spotlight in hand, for a few hours of thrashing about before calling Search and Rescue, you may want to study a few techniques for a safe night hiking experience.

For example, did you know that the preferred method of night hiking is to do so without shining a light everywhere you are walking?

Did you realize that despite a lack of tapetum lucidum (glowing eyes that some mammals have) that humans still have the potential for amazing night vision?

Walking at sunset is a great way to start a night hike. This picture, the setting sun over the Adirondack Great Range. | Source

Big guys like this come out at night. This picture taken by my motion activated infrared Bushnell game camera. | Source

Why Night Hiking?

There are people in the hiking community who loathe the very idea of night hiking. And whereas night hiking has its dangers, as does crossing the street or merely walking out your door, there are advantages to this nocturnal mode of hiking. So why hike at night?

It is much cooler:

Why yes, it is super cool to hike at night, but it can also be a welcome respite from the hot sun too. Many hikers traversing desert regions, choose to rest during the day and hike through the night. Along the humid Mid-Atlantic states on the Appalachian Trail, I avoided the burning orb in the sky for the comfort of darkness on many occasions.

Nature observation:

At night, with your other senses heightened from a lack of sight, you'll be amazed at the wildlife you'll observe. The sounds in the dark, the glittering eyes, and even the smell of the night will greet you as you walk.

Endurance hiking:

So you are taking the 41-mile one day Maryland A.T. challenge, or hiking the Cranberry Lake 50 in one day - you are an endurance hiker. Often, these kinds of hiking challenges take more hours than daylight can give.

Emergencies:

Sometimes hiking trips won't go as planned (it is usually more fun when they don't). It's nice having a skill set allowing you to hike safely through the darkness in case you have to.

Walking into a beautiful Virginia sunrise along the Appalachian Trail. One of the perks of night hiking is seeing the first rays of the sun. | Source

Headlamps are great for night hiking, or for cave exploring as I am doing here. | Source

Getting Started

Though the following safety measures apply to hiking at any hour of the day, with the added factor of night's shroud, they become even more critical.

1. Physical Fitness:

Before planning on night hiking or any kind of hiking, ensure you are physically able to handle the rigors of negotiating rough terrain. Consult your doctor to make sure you are healthy enough for hiking activity; hikes lasting more than four hours are desirable.

2. Gear:

Before embarking on your hike, make sure you are carrying the "ten essentials" in your pack. The "ten essentials" are basic survival supplies that will get you through an emergency if things don't happen as planned. For more information about what you should carry, check out my article on the Ten Outdoor Essentials
Map
Compass
Sun Protection - (you'll need it when the sun comes up)
Extra Food and Water
Pocket knife
Extra Clothing / Rain Gear
First Aid Kit and whistle
Headlamp
Matches / lighter
Fire Starter

3. Clothing and Boots:

Also, dress appropriately for the weather and climate. This means non-cotton, quick drying, wicking clothing worn in a layered system. Wear sturdy hiking shoes which offer enough support for rough terrain while still giving you flexibility and agility. In the absence of the sun, the night air becomes chilly, make sure you bring an extra layer or two.

Flashlights, headlamps, and beacons oh my... | Source

Courtesy Tip

NEVER NEVER NEVER point your flashlight or headlamp at someone's face - always point it at the ground or turn it off when approaching another person.

Method 1: Illuminating the Darkness

This method is what most people think of when taking a night stroll, breaking out the flashlight and exposing the hidden obstacles of the trail. You have extended your hiking hours by creating your own portable source of daylight.

Though many think there is nothing to this method, other than possessing the biggest and brightest flashlight available, there are a few tricks in the technique.

Hiking with an artificial light source creates a myriad of reflections and shadows and skews depth perception. As you go to place your foot on what appears to be solid ground, you may notice a sudden lack of soil. In the confidence of your foot placement, you continue down, twisting your ankle, and lie there till the morning.

Part of recognizing how shadows trick our minds is practice, the other part is slowing down and walking with a different cadence. First placing the foot, then transferring weight - this walking method is also used in hiking sans headlight, too.

Perhaps the most important thing to learn as a flashlight-dependent hiker is that there are other hikers on the trail that don't share your philosophy. They have spent hours becoming accustomed to the dark, they don't need you shining a flashlight in their eyes - it really isn't helpful. Please turn off your light until they pass, or use the red light on your headlamp. We don't want to see fights break out in the wilderness.

An assortment of headlamps. | Source

My Flashlight Reccomendations

My first headlamp was a Mini Maglite that I strapped to a headband with a piece of Velcro. I can remember bike touring, wearing that thing; I have no idea how I didn't kill myself.

I left that rig in a lean-to somewhere by accident and walked for a few days without a flashlight of any kind. A few days later I purchased my first Petzl headlamp at an outfitter in Vermont, and I haven't gone back to hand flashlights since.

So why are headlamps better than handheld flashlights for camping and hiking? When your hands are free from waving your light wand, they are free to use trekking poles, read maps, cook, and fight off rabid raccoons.

Qualities to look for in a headlamp:

LED bulbs - they don't burn out and are much more battery efficient. Many of my headlamps get about 120 hours of light on one set of batteries. One of those bulbs should be red - it preserves night vision.
Comfortable head strap - if you are going to wear the headlamp for many hours, it needs to be comfortable.
Lightweight - sure that gigantic headlamp may be bright, but after six hours on your head, your neck is going to hate you.
Reputable brand - purchase headlamps made by a reputable headlamp brand like Petzl, Princeton Tec or Black Diamond. You don't want to be stuck in the backcountry with a flickering headlamp you bought from the local big box store.

Hiking back to camp after an evening hike at Allegany State Park. | Source

Expert Tip

Set your GPS on "night colors" so when you check your location you don't lose your night vision.

Method 2: Walking With Darkness

This method is indeed a skill and one that takes confidence and practice, and that is to hike without the aid of a light. It is also the preferred method of night hiking. Many night hikers consider this method much safer; it is surely much more in-tune with nature. This technique can be dangerous (as is all hiking), so please be careful.

This method is part attitude, part science, and part gear.

The Attitude:

Exploring at night without the aid of a light requires an attitude shift. You must see yourself as a creature of the night (not in a weird vampire teen-drama thing), as a woodland community member that walks without fear amongst the shadows.

Ahh, the Night Hiking Attitude:
I was backpacking once when I heard calls in the night of "I think the trail is over here." The shout and grumble of a reply were accompanied by the bright lights of lost individuals. I kept walking, my lamp turned off, assuredly down the trail toward the calamity.
As I approached them, their wandering beams still yards off the trail, I shielded my eyes with my hands and spoke to them, "What are you guys looking for?" Of course, they shined their lights directly at my face and I was glad I had my hands over my eyes.
I found out they were going in my direction, so I offered to take them on the condition they turned their lights off. They reluctantly shut off their lights as they followed a total stranger into the night (Note - not always the best idea).
It was only a mile of hiking on a beautiful moonlit night, serenaded by peeper frogs and crickets, when I led the two hikers to their car. They thanked me for showing them the way the way out and for a new way to hike. I continued on for a few more hours...

The Science:

In this technique, you rely the night-sensitive rod cells of your eyes to see in the darkness. Whereas we rely on the cones in our eyes for most of our visual needs, color vision and high resolution, our rods are important too. Rods provide peripheral, motion, and low-light vision. Though rods are better photoreceptors, it takes a long time (usually about 40 minutes) to adapt to darkness. That is why we can't find the bed as soon as we turn out the light.

When people hike at night using their rods, many stop focusing their eyes and allow their vision to turn blurry. Sometimes it helps to gaze into the darkness through the edges of your eyes.

The Gear:

Hiking Poles - The visually impaired have been using canes to aid in mobility for centuries; hikers use trekking poles. I use Leki Super Makalu poles to help feel my way through the dark.
Flexible Hiking Boots - I wear flexible boots that allow me to "see" the trail with my feet. Stiff mountaineering boots are great for climbing but kind of clumsy for night hiking.

As a rule, night hikers using this method should still carry headlamps - just in case. Though our rod cells are great, it is nearly impossible to read a map or a sign without a little assistance. Just make sure you use the red light on your headlamp; red light doesn't destroy night vision.

A full, or nearly full, moon is fantastic at illuminating the night landscape. | Source

Our Friend, the Full Moon

While pulling down your pants and bending over certainly expresses your jocularity, it probably won't help guide your way at night.

Practice night hiking on an evening when the moon is full, or nearly so, and you'll be surprised at the amount of light reflected off its surface. Sit and listen to the creeks and whistles of the night.

Watch Your Eyes!

Even with a multimillion-lumen headlamp, it is hard to see every wayward branch seeking to make you one eye short. If you plan on night hiking, an inexpensive pair of safety glasses is essential for protecting your eyes.

For the gear junkies out there, look at a pair of Native Eyewear glasses with Interchange technology like the Nano. Just swap out the grey polarized lenses you use for the sun's glare for a set of clear lenses for nighttime.

If you are an ultralight backpacker and don't care to carry an extra two ounces for glasses, the brim of your hat will stop many branches from a good old eye poke. As a caution to gangsta' hikers, make sure the brim of your hat faces forward.

How to Make Coffee While Camping

2026-02-24T09:09:00.000-08:00

How to Make Coffee While Camping/Backpacking

There is something oddly refreshing and relaxing about enjoying a cup of coffee while overlooking a scenic lake on a backpacking trip. Unless your trails have a walk-thru window for java, though, you are going to brew your own.

Now for car campers, there is a myriad of options, from French presses and percolators to high-speed propane-powered wonders of java engineering. But what is a backpacker to do when size and weight are always a major consideration? Sure, granddad's blue enamelware pot has perked a lot of coffee in its day, but there is no way I'm devoting a third of my pack volume to a nostalgic piece of cookware.

Then again, as an admitted caffeine addict, I may try lashing that monstrosity to the pack. Luckily though, for those of us who count ounces, there are multiple ways to brew a cup of Joe without upgrading our pack suspension.

Adding Starbucks Via Instant coffee to a cup while camping | Source

Instant Coffee for Backpackers

Before you hit the back button on your browser, stick with me as we look a little farther into instant "coffee." Now, I know what you are thinking. If you grew up with a jar of Taster's Choice on the counter that nobody ever touched, I understand your misgivings.

The thing is, though, instant coffee has gotten better, much better. There are times when I forget how my water magically became a brown concoction of caffeine goodness. When I did an informal survey among outdoor enthusiasts on Twitter, most responded that they used instant coffee while backpacking.

Though I prefer the taste of drip coffee, instant is my choice when I'm going on an ultralight trip. Though it is cheaper to buy a jar of the instant, most users prefer the singles, with Starbucks Via being the most popular. The little packs are already measured out for normal caffeine consumption, and they won't open up inside your bear bag.

The major pros of instant coffee are that no special equipment is needed and there are no coffee grounds to pack out. Please remember to pack out the packaging, though (including the top that most people seem to rip cleanly off and throw on the ground).

Brewing using coffee bags | Source

Coffee Bags

Coffee bags offer you a way to have finally ground real coffee in a mess-free way. The taste is generally wonderful and full as long as you actually follow the directions. I mean, we all know how a tea bag works, right? Most folks fail to read the box, though, and end up with either underpowered or overly bitter coffee. So this is how you are supposed to use a coffee bag.

How to Use a Coffee Bag

Start boiling water on stove.
Remove coffee bag from package and place into awesome camping mug.
Pour boiling water over the bag.
Let the bag sit in the water for about a minute.
Dunk the bag in and out of the water for at least 15 seconds.
Place wet bag into your trash bag to pack out.
Drink coffee!

I've found that the longer you dunk the bag, the stronger it gets. Though coffee bags are an easy way to make your morning brew, the wet bag needs to be packed out. The plus, however, is that the grounds stay contained inside the bag.

The lightweight coffee drip from UST.

Lightweight Coffee Drips

Though personal-size coffee drippers with cone filters have been around for years, they've gotten a lot more backpack-friendly thanks to silicone construction. These coffee makers are easy to use, need little maintenance, and produce delicious coffee.

To Use a Coffee Drip

Start boiling a couple cups of water.
Unfold coffee dripper and place it on top of cup.
Insert cone coffee filter into coffee drip.
Add coffee grounds to filter.
Slowly pour boiling water over coffee grounds.
Enjoy your java!

Though I've used a few of these backpacking coffee makers, I've had great luck with the UST Flexware coffee drip. It packs down nicely inside my pot, doesn't collapse while brewing and cleans up great.

A few companies, like Treeline Coffee Roasters, have produced single-serve disposable pour-over coffee packets. These packets clip over the side of your mug, so no special funnel is required. These do provide more waste to carry out, though.

While lightweight coffee drips produce tasty ground-free coffee, they do have one drawback. When done brewing, you will be left with a wet filter and coffee grounds. These will have to be packed out in accordance with "leave no trace." I carry a small resealable snack bag for packing out this sort of moist trash.

Cowboy coffee in an enamelware mug. | Source

Cowboy Coffee

I've never roped a calf or mended a barbwire fence, but I've made cowboy coffee nonetheless. This was probably the way we first started to brew coffee back in Ethiopia hundreds of years ago. I like to think of cowboy coffee as instant coffee where the grounds don't dissolve.

Though there are entire articles devoted to the fine art of making cowboy coffee, there are a few steps. Basically, mix coffee grounds into boiling water, stir and let it sit and seep. When you drink, you might get a few grounds, though, as traditionally there is no filter or device to contain the grounds.

I've heard though, that some folks have used socks and bandannas as a makeshift coffee bag. If you are going to use the sock method, I highly suggest using a clean pair of socks. Though jam goes great with breakfast coffee, toe jam does not.

The GSI french press produces some of the best camp coffee you'll ever drink. | Source

French Press Camp Coffee

The french press is going to be one of your heaviest options for backpacking coffee; however, for coffee aficionados, the taste cannot be beat. Think of it as grounds-free cowboy coffee, as a plunger with fine wire mesh traps the grounds. For me, I use the French press for car and canoe camping where I have a bit more room for luxury items. If backpacking in a group, though, the keeper of the press is sure to be one of the more popular members of your clan.

Whereas some manufacturers like MSR produce plungers that work inside their reactor cookware, most users will buy a stand-alone press. Though the carafe you have at home is probably made out of glass, backpacking presses are generally made out of high-impact plastic. The particular press I use is from GSI—it is lightweight and makes two cups (or one Dan cup) of coffee.

To Use a French Press

Boil water on your stove.
Add boiling water to coffee press.
Stir in two teaspoons of coffee per cup to the water.
Seal the lid and let it sit for about four minutes. Make sure plunger is all the way up.
Slowly push the plunger down.
Unseal the lid and pour while leaving plunger in down position.

If when pushing the plunger down, you feel resistance, pull it back up and start again. If you push too aggressively, you'll either end up scalded, with a broken press, or both. The one situation you don't want in the backcountry is to be burned and be unable to make coffee. Also, whether you grind your own or buy your roast, presses work the best with coarse-ground coffee.

Apart from having to buy a sometimes bulky apparatus, the major disadvantage to the coffee press is clean up. The grounds are pushed to the bottom of the carafe and are a pain to clean up without filtered running water. I find the mesh screen even harder to clean until I return to civilization. If you do field-clean it, carry a syringe (the one that backflushes a Sawyer squeeze filter works great) to force water through the mesh holes.

Making coffee with a percolator on a camp stove. | Source

The Camp Coffee Percolator

The percolator in my gear stash is dented aluminum, with scorch marks from hundreds of campfires and sessions on the stove. It came from my parents and is probably close to 50 years old. The design hasn't changed much over the years and using one seems to channel nostalgic feelings of camping trips in our youth.

To Use a Percolator

Fill percolator with water.
Fill basket with coffee.
Place percolator on heat source and bring to a boil.
Reduce the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes.
Promptly remove from heat when coffee strength has been reached.

As percolators can brew several cups of coffee at once, it might be the best option for large groups of backpackers. If you leave it percolating till it gets black, it is also the best option for a college student pulling an all-nighter in a distraction-free wilderness lean-to.

Watching the knob on top, or the bulb, is the key to brewing the perfect cup of coffee. If the knob looks too light, the product will be like brown tannic water; if too dark, it will be like the stuff that was made yesterday at the gas station. Basically, if you are in a group, someone needs to be in charge of watching the coffee. This, after all, is the most important camp chore.

Twitter Poll on Camp Coffee

Camp Coffee Method	Percentage Using Method
French Press	21%
Cowboy Coffee	2%
Percolator	7%
Instant	35%
Coffee Bags	12%
Lightweight Coffee Drip	23%

I conducted a survey of outdoor enthusiasts on Twitter of what their preferred method of making coffee was while camping. Of the 42 respondents, these are the results.

Brewing coffee while backpacking in the Allegheny National Forest.

Why Tarps are Better Than Tents

2026-02-24T09:07:00.000-08:00

Why Tarps are Better Than Tents

Looking skyward from the corner of my tarp on a fall backpacking trip to the Seward Range. | Source

On Tarp Camping

Awoken by the sun and protected from the night rain, a tarp is the ultimate shelter for truly experiencing the wilderness while backpacking. Oddly - to sleep under a tarp, is to camp in rebellion, to protest the nature of what camping has become. As an open-air camper, you are boycotting this world of walls.

Perhaps the worse invention man ever dreamed up was the wall. Yes, yes - they are great at protecting cities from the barbarian horde, but maybe civilization is too highly rated anyway. Though walls are great at keeping the undesirable out, they also serve to keep you in. Walls are the foundation for a prison of our own desire.

The biggest obstacle to tarp camping is fear. Man fears a world that is unobstructed by walls, even if those barriers are of the wispy nylon variety. Man fears what goes bump in the night and forgets, that as a beast themselves, they bump too.

Of course, if you really desire a closeness with nature, you can skip the tarp all together and lie on the bare earth with a pile of leaves under your head and the stars in all their glory in front of you. Though sleeping out like this, truly at one with the environment, is something everyone should try - it gets awfully wet when it starts to rain.

Though at times, tarps have their limitations: Drifting snow and biting insects come to mind. A little experimentation with pitching styles and optional equipment can overcome these minor annoyances.

Tarp camping is a great opportunity to take off your shoes and let the breezes circulate around your body. | Source

Lightweight tarps are handy when your find yourself car camping too. | Source

Tips for Pitching a Tarp

Calculate how water will run off the tarp and angle it accordingly.
Save the weight of stakes by attaching longer guy out points on the corners.
Always practice setting up your tarp before trying to do it in a storm at night.

The Camp Cooking Tarp - The Dining Fly

Cooking and eating in your tent is dangerous. From erupting in fiery ball of flame to attracting curious animals like bears, it is something you don't want to do.

Many campers that started in Scouting, remember packing the heavy canvas dining fly along with them. Though the Scout lugging that heavy tarp on their back drew the short straw, they could smile knowing that at least it wasn't the cast iron Dutch oven in their rucksack. At night, no food was allowed in the vicinity of a tent and the cooking fly was an area devoid of horseplay.

Today with lightweight silnylon materials, the era of the canvas fly has reached its end; however, the rule of "no horseplay in the cooking area" still stands.

Most camping experts agree that the cooking and eating area should be located at least 100-feet away and downwind from where you plan to slumber. Then again, when the reality of the woods takes hold, that distance generally condenses to about 20-feet. Even the most seasoned camper finds laziness in laying out their primitive camp.

Within the realm of lightweight backpacking, when there is only one tarp, you must make a decision. Will you take the chance to cook, eat, and sleep in the same place? Though most ultralight backpackers are careful, it is a better idea to devour your trail vittles someplace other than where you plan on throwing your sleeping bag.

Here is one of my hammock camping rigs. | Source

My Favorite Hammock Tarp

ENO, Eagles Nest Outfitters ProFly Rain Tarp, Ultralight Hammock Accessory, Charcoal

The ENO pro fly is a full coverage tarp especially designed for hammock camping.

Buy Now

Tarps for Hammock Camping

Camping under a tarp doesn't always mean sleeping on the ground, for there is nothing like swinging in the night breeze in a hammock. With the rising popularity of hammock camping amongst lightweight backpackers, an interest in specially designed tarps has risen too.

Whereas most backpacking tarps are rectangular in shape, specific hammock camping tarps often have scalloped edges with a long ridge line. Of course this long ridge line is to keep the hammock camper dry and the scalloped edges provide coverage while minimizing weight. If you aren't investing in a hammock-specific tarp just yet, turn your tarp diagonally and span the ridge line corner to corner.

Hammock Tarp Pitching Tips

Usually hammock suspension straps are positioned higher on the tree than the tarp ridge line.
When wind-blown rain starts assaulting your nest, move in the sides of your tarp. It'll be harder to get in and out of, but you will stay drier.
Use a large-looped taut-line hitch to attach the ridge of the tarp and pass the hammock suspension through this loop. This will allow the hammock suspension to swing free of interfering with the rain fly.

Learn to Tie a Taut-line Hitch

Tarp Knots

Though there is an repertoire of knots that each backpacker should learn, for tarp camping, the most important is the taut-line hitch. The video above demonstrates how to properly tie one.

An ultralight tarp camping site with a bivy sack along the Eastside Overland Trail.

Using a Tarp with a Bivy Sack

Bivy sacks are great solutions for lightweight backpacking. Just slide them over your sleeping bag, zip them up and nod off to sleep. They are fantastic until it starts to rain.

Yes, a good bivy sack will keep you and your sleeping bag dry, but feeling the raindrops hitting the outside of the sack all night is rather uncomfortable. Most backpackers find this a rather torturous activity. Also, it is impossible to cook underneath or change your clothes inside the tight confines of a bivy sack.

Enter the tarp, it doesn't have to be large just big enough to avoid those uncomfortable nights. Some ultralight backpacker suspend a 3' by 3' piece of silnylon over their heads to make the compromise between light packs and comfort.

Backpackers are a rather restless bunch, always dreaming about the next adventure, many find themselves rolling through the night in their bivy sack. For this reason, rolling sleepers should never camp near cliffs or on the banks of a raging river.

The Outbound Dan Bivy System:

Full coverage bivy sack with mosquito netting during insect season.
Partial coverage 3' by 6' silnylon tarp with long guy out ropes.
On really moist ground, a mylar emergency blanket is handy to have underneath your bag.
On uneven ground, a series of six long stakes placed strategically around a restless camper, avoids rolling out into the rain.

A wet weather camp on the way to Allen Mountain in the Adirondacks. | Source

Tarp Camping Advantages

Tarps are drier while backpacking multiple days in wet weather.
Tarps are lighter than tents.
Good tarps are less expensive than good tents.
Tarps are very durable and easily fixed if damaged.

Winter Water Purification

2026-02-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

Winter Camping Water Purification Guide

"Outbound" Dan Human has been drinking out of streams, ponds, and puddles for several years on various backpacking and paddling trips.

Hydration is an important safety factor during winter sports. | Source

DON'T EAT SNOW

Eating snow will only lower your core body temperature and make you more susceptible to hypothermia.

Drink Water or Die

Yes, even in the harsh cold winter it is necessary to hydrate. Dehydration is a real threat to the backpacker during the snowy months too. So, start pumping water from your filter into your camelbak bladder and ... oh wait a minute, scratch that. That's right, after your filter freezes and cracks you won't be able to purify water anymore, but that's okay your water bladder is now a frozen block of ice conveniently located on your back. The winter backpacker must change their tactics for gathering, purifying, and carrying water.

How much water does a person need?

A study by the Institute of Medicine concluded that an adult male requires about 3 liters of water per day, and a woman must have an intake of 2.2 liters per day.

However, with increased energy output, sweating, and water loss through heavy respiration, the winter hiker requires additional water intake. Though everyone's bodies have different requirements, many mountaineers agree that you need to drink about 3/4 to 1 liter of water for every hour of trekking through the snow.

Yes, that's a lot of water!

A good strategy is to be well hydrated for several days before venturing into the cold. If you start mildly dehydrated - things are only going to get worse. Many backpackers also pound an electrolyte-rich drink just before heading out on the trail. Also, make sure your water bottles are topped off (and unfrozen) before heading out.

Most importantly, watch your pee! Yes, watch for the color variations in your urine; you want it to be as clear as possible. If your pee is dark yellow, STOP and drink water.

If you are dehydrated, STOP, make yourself comfortable and safe.

Start sipping water and eat some salty electrolyte-rich food. You may want to make camp for the night. Don't start hiking until you are well hydrated.

Know the Signs of Dehydration

Symptoms of Dehydration from Mayo Clinic:

Thirst
Dry sticky mouth, dried up mucous membranes
Dry skin
Lack of elasticity in skin
Dizziness
Headache
Decreased urination and dark urine

The water at the top of a bottle freezes first, so carry bottles upside down so the cap doesn't freeze shut. | Source

Finding Water

Simple, right? Just go down to the lake, dip, and voila: water is gathered. Well, maybe, but it usually goes something like this.

"There was a lake here, wasn't there?"
"All I see is a big snow field; check the GPS again."
"Okay, according to this we should be right in the middle of it."
"You're a moron, give me that thing! Hey, do you hear a weird cracking sound? "

Yep, finding open water in winter can be difficult and when you start looking out on the ice, it can be dangerous. And in the backcountry accidents on ice are usually deadly.

Though snow melting is a fantastic way to "make water," it has a high fuel cost and is time-intensive. Therefore, whenever an open source of water can be safely accessed, it is more energy and time-efficient.

First of all, be careful whenever venturing onto or nearby ice. Test the ice with a trekking pole and try to stand on logs or rocks as you dip or chip into the ice. Again, standing in the middle of a pond, hammering on the ice with an ax may not be the best idea.

Often fast-moving streams are good sources of easily accessed water as the ice generally isn't too thick.

Extend your reach by attaching your water bottle to the end of your trekking pole. To do this use a small piece of paracord to tie the bail of your wide-mouthed Nalgene to the end of your trekking pole. For the knot-challenged, use a carabiner to clip the canteen to the hiking pole wrist strap. Sometimes the bails wear out on Nalgenes, so tie a small piece of paracord below the threaded lip for water dipping.

Melting snow to make water is a laborious and time consuming activity for winter backpackers. | Source

If you plan on melting snow and cooking, plan on carrying about 8 oz. of fuel per person per day for your white gas stove.

Note: stove fuel economy differs between models so field test your stove before using it in the backcountry.

Melting snow over a fire in a pillowcase and boiling water inside a plastic bottle. | Source

Tips for Melting Snow

Making water is simple, we all know the formula: just create a covalent molecular bond between one oxygen and two hydrogen atoms—easy, duh. I'm not sure exactly how to do that though, so try making water by melting snow.

The advantage of melting snow is that melted snow is usually safe to drink, but remember don't scoop yellow or pink snow to put in your pot. To be safe, all water should be considered contaminated.

You could bring the water up to a boil; however, that takes time and will increase fuel consumption. A more energy-efficient way of making sure melted snow is safe to drink is to filter large particulates out with a bandana or coffee filter into a water bottle, then treat the water chemically or with a UV lamp.

How to Melt Snow:

Set stove up in a safe level area out of the wind. Compact snow underneath for a steady platform.
Gather a large amount of clean snow—a garbage bag works well. If you do have a garbage bag, gather snow in the morning and leave it in the sun to start a solar melting process.
Erect windscreens, prime, and light stove.
Place a small amount of water in the cooking pot and place on stove. The water will stop your pot from scorching as well as speed up the melting process. Keep about an inch of water in the pot at all times during the melting process.
Start scooping snow into the pot. Be sure to keep the pot lid on as much as possible to conserve fuel.
As snow melts, keep on adding more snow to the pot. Depending on the denseness of the snow, it may take up to 10 quarts of snow to produce 1 quart of water.
Stir the snow into the melted water with a stick to speed the melting process.
Remove water from pot with a water dipper (AKA cup) and pour into water bottles.
Filter out particulates (usually pine needles): pour the water through a bandanna or a coffee filter. The MSR mug mate coffee filter works great.

Though liquid fuel stoves tend to fair better in colder weather, the MSR reactor is a snow melting powerhouse. | Source

Melting snow using the MSR dragonfly on a winter backpacking trip. The blue sea to summit cup is used for dipping boiling water into water bottles. | Source

Though filters are excellent in other times of the year, they aren't the best in colder weather. | Source

Filters

Many three-season backpackers rely on water pumps to filter their water; however, in winter filters can be a bad idea. What happens in freezing temperatures is that residual water freezes inside the filter mechanism resulting in blown seals and cracked housings. The only real way to depend on a filter in freezing temps is to dry it out as much as possible and then keep it from freezing by carrying it in your jacket.

Chemical water purification is one of the more reliable ways to treat water during the winter. | Source

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Chemical Water Purification

Chemicals are a great way to treat winter water; however, most treatments are ineffective in cold water. Often water must be heated, in order for the chemicals to do their magic. One great method is to melt snow to the point of "slightly warm" and then use chemicals. This practice requires less fuel and increases the effectiveness of your treatment.

One of the most popular winter water treatments is Aquamira. Aquamira is a two-part chlorine dioxide treatment that neutralizes waterborne pathogens without an aftertaste in about 30 minutes. Best of all, Aquamira works better in colder water temperatures than traditional iodine tablets.

Though Aquamira is freeze-thaw stable, it can still freeze. In extremely cold temperatures, place both bottles inside your parka to keep them from freezing.

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Using UV light to purify water

In the past few years, using UV light to purify water has become a lightweight and popular way to treat water. These battery-powered devices use UV light to disrupt the DNA of microorganisms and render the little water beasties harmless.

SteriPEN is the leader in producing travel-sized UV lamps for rugged backcountry use. Some models have solar charging capabilities so you don't have to worry about batteries for extended trips.

So how do you use a SteriPEN?

Though each model differs, generally you turn on the switch, plunge the pen into the water, then stir until the light goes out (usually about a minute). After that, there is no wait and no taste—just drink.

The UV light does not purify contaminated water droplets that may be on the bottle lid or threads, so be careful to clean the threads before placing your lips on the container to drink.

Insulated water bottle carriers are an easy way to keep water from freezing while winter backpacking. | Source

Storing Water in Winter

So where do you put the water after you gathered and purified it?

Hydration bladders are outstanding during the warmer months, however, in the winter the bladder, the tube, and the bite valve can freeze easily. Camelbak does sell a thermal control kit to use with their bladders, but the neoprene insulation doesn't withstand the most extreme of temperatures. Remember after taking a sip to blow back into the tube to clear the hose; the hose is usually the first thing to freeze. Generally, winter backpackers avoid hydration bladders because of the difficulty in keeping them unfrozen.

Specially made insulated water bottle holders and wide-mouthed water bottles are the things to use while winter backpacking. For example, the Water Bottle Parka from Outdoor Research is a staple in mountaineering and is practically indestructible.

If economy is the hiker's primary need, then insulate water bottles with an old wool hiking sock. Sock gnomes never take socks in pairs, so most backpackers have a mismatched sock or two in their sock drawer.

The crafty backpacker can also make their own insulated water bottle cover with an old piece of closed-cell foam and some glue.

Most backpackers and mountaineers opt to keep water bottles from freezing at night by placing bottles in their sleeping bag. One way to keep warmer at night is to fill a water bottle with hot water and put it in your sleeping bag.

Because snow is an excellent insulator, water bottles can also be buried in the snow to prevent them from freezing. Burying water is a good technique when dealing with large amounts of group water.

High Peaks Backpacking Loop over Seven Mountains

2026-02-24T09:02:00.000-08:00

How to Finish Your Adirondack 46 With a Trail Backpacking Loop Over Seven High Peaks

This is a map of my hike, created with National Geographic Topo. I think the outline looks like a dinosaur.

Backpacking in the Adirondacks

I got my Adirondack 46 on Dix!

Over the years, I've had fun in the Adirondack High Peaks, with torrential rain on Allen, knee-deep mud in the Sewards, and chest-deep snow in the Dixes.

After a few years of long six-hour drives from Buffalo, I finally finished my Adirondack 46 after successfully completing the Gray-Dix Traverse. What? Yeah, the two peaks I had remaining were Gray and Dix (located in two separate mountain ranges), and I needed to find a way to link them.

Sure, I could easily day hike either of them, but where is the fun in that? Would my final peaks come with a great challenge, or would it be a simple walk in the woods? After studying my maps for months, I decided to finish in the most epic manner I could think of.

In August of 2011, I solo backpacked 42 miles in three days over seven Adirondack High Peaks: Sawteeth, Gothics, Saddleback, Basin, Marcy, Gray, and Dix Mountains.

Looking toward the Upper Range from the summit of Gothics. | Source

Why Are There 46 High Peaks?

Why 46? Aren't there more mountains that that in the Adirondacks?

Yes, there are hundreds of mountains in the 'Dacks, but there are only a handful over the magical mark (in the northeast at least) over 4,000-feet. When Herbert Clark and the Marshall brothers started climbing the highest mountains in the Adirondacks, the geological data at the time stated there were 46 peaks over 4,000 feet. These mountains are clustered in the High Peak region near Lake Placid.

Since then, four peaks have been measured slightly below 4,000, and MacNaughton Mountain is 4,000-feet even though it wasn't on the original list.

Despite the variations in elevation readings, to be a 46er, you must climb the mountains on the original list. Oh, the things we do for patches.

Looking at Lower Ausable Lake from the Sawteeth Scenic Trail. | Source

From St. Huberts Over Sawteeth

I started out from St. Huberts on a quest to finish my 46. It was supposed to be a sunny couple of days, but hazy mist-shrouded my view as I walked through the darkness past great houses and down the Lake Road. Along the way, squirrels rustled in the leaves and the occasional deer would startle out of the woods. It seems I always see deer here.

I reached the dam on the lower Ausable in great time, but the weather still hadn't cleared as I began climbing the Scenic Trail. I had never been up this trail before but had great views of Indian Head and Fish Hawk Cliffs.

Along the way, I passed several scenic outlooks, many of which are the perfect place for a picnic on a day hike to Sawteeth. In pure AMR fashion, the outlooks were numbered—supposedly for some sort of guided hike. Guided hikes are far too scripted for me as they take away some of the surprises of nature.

After helping a bewildered hiker find her way, I reached the top of Sawteeth. I took my mandatory summit pictures and pushed on over Pyramid Peak toward the sheer cliffs of Gothics.

Gothics from Pyramid. | Source

Climbing Gothics, Saddleback, and Basin

Many agree that the ridge between Sawteeth and Gothics over Pyramid offers one of the most spectacular views in the Adirondack Park. Even though I've never hiked through there on a clear day, it is awesome to take in the majesty of the mountains even on a misty day.

Climbing up the "elephant's trunk" as described by Barbara McMartin, I reached the open dome of Gothics. I sauntered over to the true summit so I could count this as another ascent. Though I count Haystack as my favorite, Gothics is a close second.

After descending Gothics' famous cable line, I looked ahead to Saddleback and Basin with some of the steepest and most rugged climbing in the High Peaks. I've done them a few times before and now my pack, at a scant eleven pounds, was lighter.

Of course, my hubris ignored the guidebook's advice:

"The Range Trail between Saddleback and Basin is one of the most difficult in the Hight Peaks. Extreme care is required in the initial 380-foot descent from Saddleback."
-McMartin and Ingersoll, Discover the Adirondack High Peaks

A Fall and a Little Blood on Saddleback

No backpacking trip to the Adirondacks is complete without drawing a little blood. It is my sacrifice to the gods of wilderness and something that must be spilled on this hallowed mountain range.

Anyone that has hiked the Great Range knows that it is more than a walk in the woods. You are scrambling, sliding, and smearing up and down rock faces. In many places, you have no choice but to lower or raise your pack with a rope while easing yourself along the dangerous cliffs.

A couple of years back, I took a slide on Upper Wolfjaw. I ended up scraping the skin off my elbows and knees as I dug my body into the rock to stop from falling any further. I bandaged and duct-taped myself as best I could that day and continued backpacking the rest of the range. It was one of the few times I ran out of medical supplies in my first aid kit.

This time, it wasn't too bad though. As I descended Saddleback, I turned to grab a handhold and climb down a rather vertical spot. My foot slipped on the moistened rock, sending me for a short jolt. I swung my leg to grab hold of something, of anything—luckily I did.

As I recovered from my almost fall I looked down to see the blood oozing out from my knee. I must have hit it somehow. I placed some pressure on my wound and cleaned it up with some nearby antibacterial moss. I wrapped the bandana I wore on my neck around my knee and kept going.

There was a storm coming and I still had to get over Basin before the rain really started. I'd take a break later and properly dress it- duct tape and all.

I took this picture of my bivy rig while taking it down the next morning. Yep - no tent. | Source

A Bad Weather Bivy at Snowbird Campsite

A little bloody from my fall, I pushed up the trail toward Haystack and made camp at Snowbird. Or perhaps it is Snobird; I’ve seen it spelled both ways. Many people have never heard of it, but it is the place where the old Snowbird lean-to was removed nearly thirty years ago. The DEC removed the structure years before I even heard of the Adirondacks - I'll take the guidebook's word that it was there.

The water from the nearby stream is always plentiful, even a couple of years ago in a particularly dry summer. I guess this is the third time I camped there while doing the Great Range traverse.

Of course this was a night that I wished the lean-to was still there.

As I arrived, the rain began to drizzle down and the wind howled through this high mountain pass. In order to save weight, I left my tarp in my car and just brought my Sierra Designs bivy sack. This was going to be one miserable night with the rain and that wind.

Then I had a thought! I carried a Heat Sheet mylar space blanket and I bet I could rig it up like a tarp. I stripped the "guts" from the parachute cord wrap around my neck knife's handle to use for multiple guy-out points.

Using an old woodsman's trick (though I consider myself a young woodsman), I placed a small rock or pine cone in the tarp then wrapped my cord around it. That way I was able to make multiple grommets to tie this tarp down for the night.

I pitched my makeshift tarp low and crawled underneath from the slightly higher leeward side. Starting to shiver a bit, I slid myself into my sleeping bag and bivy sack and then finally started to cook my supper out of reach of the cold Adirondack rain.

From the summit of Mt Marcy. | Source

Mt Marcy and Gray

I survived the night, staying dry and comfortable in the extremes of mountain weather. I awoke to a sunny morning at Snowbird and continued up the trail toward Mt Marcy.

At 5,344 feet, Mt Marcy is the highest point in New York State and a destination in itself. I decided to pay homage to the Big Kahuna on the journey that would complete my Adirondack 46.

I climbed Marcy earlier this year in June, only to be greeted with a blinding ice storm on top and winds that threatened to push me off the precipice. However, of all my previous climbs of Marcy, this was the best day by far on the summit. Usually, I am in a cloud bank, but this time I could actually see.

I spent quite a bit of time on Marcy, taking in the fantastic view and pointing out the landmarks to a few hikers that were new to the Adirondacks.

After a short break at "Four Corners," I walked the ridge to Lake Tear of Clouds. At 4,293-feet, this pristine little pond is the highest source of the Hudson River. I purified some water with my SteriPEN, grabbed a snack and headed up the Gray herd path (an unmarked trail) on the Western side of the pond.

I've tried climbing Gray before, from Mt Marcy in the winter. I wandered about in a zero visibility snowstorm, crashing through drifts till I regained my senses and turned back. It was in the days before I carried a GPS.

The 4,840-foot Gray peak is the seventh highest mountain in the Adirondacks and is named for 19th-century botanist Asa Gray. Though the summit is covered with short conifers, great views abound from a few spots that peek over the mountains.

A couple behind me was bushwhacking directly to Marcy from the Gray summit. This would be the perfect day to go on such an adventure, but I already climbed that mountain today and I had many miles to go before I reached my camp at Elk Lake.

Here I am on the wooded summit of Gray Peak #45. | Source

Marcy Brook at the bottom of Panther Gorge. | Source

Down Panther Gorge and to Elk Lake

After descending Gray, I returned to "Four Corners" and climbed down into Panther Gorge. Panther Gorge is the steepest approach to Mt Marcy and the least used. I found the much-ignored trail pleasant and dry—surprising from the rain the previous night.

I took a break at the Panther Gorge lean-to, refilled my water, and hiked toward Elk Lake. Though the trail does climb and descend, as all trails do, I found the trail altogether peaceful. It was the first time I ever walked this trail.

I did he 10.2 miles from Four Corners to Elk Lake in solitude. Save for a backpack at the lean-to and a candy wrapper I picked up along the way, there were no signs of other hikers. It was just the way I liked it.

Walking in the noisy silence of the woods awakens feelings that we ignore, both centering and inspiring us.

As I drifted closer to Elk Lake, a beautiful lake kept hidden by private ownership, multiple side trails with "No Trespassing" came in to view. Yes, for around $190 a night you can hike on their trails and paddle in their lake - I was just passing through though. Just stay on the main trail and resist the urge to fight against private wilderness ownership and you'll be fine.

I rounded the Elk Lake parking lot as dusk began to fall. Luckily I only had 2.3 miles to go before I reached Slide Brook lean-to.

Looking over the Colvin Rage toward the Great Range from the summit of Dix. | Source

Climbing Dix Mountain

It was a sleepless night in a full lean-to at Slide Brook. Maybe I'd lost my ability to put up with other people's snores, or maybe I was just excited about reaching my goal. Excited? Well maybe a little more apprehensive.

I signed in at the shelter register and spotted an entry from when I had stayed there a couple years back. That had been a solo winter trip, and my first foray into the Dix Range. I climbed up the Macomb slide, then snowshoed over to South and East Dix (Carson and Grace). I broke trail in the col between Macomb and South Dix, falling in multiple spruce traps and digging my way through unforgiving piles of snow. When I returned to the lean-to that night, it was the most welcome of sights on a cold January night.

I delayed my departure that morning, hoping to have the trail to myself and my thoughts. Everyone else camping with me that night was far more ambitious, waking up early, and hiking all five peaks of the Dix Range. I just needed the one, however, and I needed enough energy to stumble back to my car that evening.

I decided to climb Dix via the Beckhorn. The rocky protuberance to the South of Dix's summit was named by Ol' Mountain Phelps for the beak iron on an anvil—a reference now lost to many of us.

It was fitting that Gray was number seven in order of height; Dix is number six at 4,857 feet. Named for John Adams Dix, a New York State governor, this peak stands above the other four mountains in this range.

A celebration on the summit of Dix. | Source

A Celebration on Dix Mountain

When I reached the pinnacle of Dix, there was a group of hikers on a nearby ledge basking in the sun and celebrating their own climb. I nodded my head in acknowledgment and began taking pictures of the summit marker and the surrounding mountains.

I exchanged in the general hiking banter with the other hikers. "Where are you coming from?" "Where are you going?"

Then one asked, "Which peak is this for you?"

I paused for a moment, fully knowing the heft of my next few words, and said, "This is number forty-six..."

Quickly, they jumped up to the rock, shouting congratulatory messages, and began planning an impromptu ceremony for me. The group stood up and linked hands in an arch over the summit disk. I bent down and passed through this ring of complete strangers, all of whom were cheering me on.

If you look at the picture, you'll notice how close some of them came to the edge while creating my ceremony. I don't know much about the group, except that they were from Vermont and that a couple of them were already 46ers.

I'm sure I'll run into them again some day.

I have climbed most of my peaks as a solo climber; I’m not used to seeing people on top of mountains, or people congratulating me.

An Adirondack Bear

I climbed back down the other side of Dix and hiked toward Route 73 along the banks of the North Fork of the Boquet River. Within a tenth of a mile of passing the Boquet River lean-to, I saw a large black shape running through the woods in front of me. As everyone had their dogs out that day, at first glimpse I thought it was Fido, then realized it was a black bear.

The bear, running south down the trail, saw me and turned quickly into the brush, passing silently out of sight. It seemed like the lord of the Adirondack forest swung by to congratulate me on my accomplishment.

As all bears do, they like to run away before I can take a quick picture of them. They are the most uncooperative critters.

Finished With My 46, But Never Done

Once I reached Route 73, the walk back became tiring. There is something unwelcoming about pavement under my feet. I looked to the mountains that guarded the mountain road and did my best not to stick my thumb out and hitch a ride back to the car.

I did however, have a nice long foot soak in Chapel Pond.

Though I finished hiking my Adirondack 46, it isn't like I am retiring from hiking in the Adirondacks. If anything, this feat makes me want to hike more and to finish subsequent rounds.

If you have any questions or comments, please add them to the section below. I do my best to answer all questions.

The History of Hiking the Appalachian Trail

2026-02-24T08:54:00.000-08:00

The famous plaque on Springer Mountain in Georgia. | Source

Remote for detachment

narrow for chosen company

winding for leisure

lonely for contemplation

the trail

leads not merely north and south

but upward to the body, mind and soul of man

— Harold Allen

The Appalachian Trail: A Footpath in History

Every step along the Appalachian Trail is a step in history. It is as much a pathway of the cultural history of the United States as it is a footpath through the wilderness. The A.T. stretches about 2,170 miles between Mount Katahdin in Maine and Springer Mountain in Georgia and serves as a symbol of escape from inauthentic city life.

In 1998, I had the chance to hike the entire Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia, and it remains one of the proudest and most profound accomplishments in my life. It was a four-and-a-half-month journey of simplicity of purpose and a soul-centering event.

But how did this trail start? Who runs it? What is a thru-hiker? How do you begin hiking? I'll answer these questions as we explore the history of hiking the Appalachian Trail.

Mount Katahdin in Maine is the Northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. | Source

The Appalachian Trail winds through 14 states. | Source

The original Washington Monument built in 1827 stands along the Appalachian Trail in Maryland. The AT encounters many historical structures along its route. | Source

Benton MacKaye and The Idea of the Appalachian Trail

Who could have ever thought of this and make it work? In a 1921 article entitled "An Appalachian Trail: A Project in Regional Planning," Benton MacKaye envisioned a continuous footpath that stretched along the Appalachian Mountains and offered solace from the cities.

In the aftermath of the First World War, MacKaye didn't like the path that America was on. He disliked the urbanization of landscape and the rapid industrialism which became the focus of American culture. The Appalachian Trail was one of the many utopian projects that people proposed to cure what they saw as American decline.

MacKaye's original concept was a path between the two high points of the East, Mount Mitchell in North Carolina to Mount Washington in New Hampshire. As the project took hold, and the first Trail Conference was established in 1925, the trail concept expanded from Maine to Georgia.

So is the Appalachian Trail a good escape? According to the National Park Service, 2/3 of the U.S. population lives within a 1-day drive of the trail. Good planning Mr. MacKaye!

Shelters like this lean-to are spaced about a day's walk apart along the trail. Shelters are usually crowded, but there is always room for one more. More than 250 shelters are dotted along the length of the trail. | Source

Benton MacKaye and Myron Avery - Appalachian Trail pioneers. | Source

The First 2000-Miler Myron Avery

in 1936 Myron Avery, a lawyer by trade, become the first to hike all 2,000 miles of the Appalachian Trail. He did so as a leader of several teams that hacked out and defined the trail's route. Of course in those days, the trail ended at Mount Oglethorpe. Springer didn't become the Southern terminus until 1958.

Those formative times were interesting, to say the least, working with federal and state parks, and adjoining the AT to other existing trails.

Most of the Appalachian Trail is marked with metal signs like this near roads and trailheads. | Source

Who is in Charge?

The Appalachian Trail is only possible through a conglomeration of non-profits, government, trail clubs, and hundreds of thousands of hours of volunteer work along the mountain chain. The Appalachian Trail Conference (after 2005, known as the Appalachian Trail Conservancy) is the coordinating agency making this possible.

In 1968, Congress passed the National Trails System Act and the Appalachian Trail became a charter member. The uncompleted Pacific Crest Trail received its designation that year too. This act gave financial support and protection to the AT and many other long-distance trails to come. Currently, there are eleven National Scenic Trails and nineteen National Historic Trails. As a National Scenic Trail, the protection and overall coordination of the AT are the responsibility of the National Park Service.

Nature and culture intertwine along the Appalachian Trail; this tree devours an old sign. | Source

Franconia Ridge in the White Mountains. | Source

Hike Your Own Hike

— Thru-hiker adage

Ways to Hike the Appalachian Trail

The Appalachian Trail is ripe with characters, prophets, and perhaps even wayward governors. With so many people and with a trail as large as the AT, there are many ways to hike. The Appalachian Trail Conservancy estimates that as many as 3 million people hike some portion of the AT each year, with mere thousands attempting to thru-hike the trail.

Different Types of Hikes:

Day Hike
Short term backpacking
End-to-End Options

Anyone who walks every inch of the Appalachian Trail is a 2,000-miler. It doesn't matter if they set a running record of 47 days like Jennifer Farr Davis or take decades to finish the trail in short sections.
The Section Hike: Section hikers hike the trail in, you guessed it, sections. There is no time limit nor order to hike.
The Thru-Hike: A thru-hiker walks the entire trail in ONE continuous journey.
The Flip Flop: A flip-flopper on the AT, hikes the trail in one year; however, they may not hike the trail in order. Usually this is done to beat the cold icy weather on the northern end of the trail. For example: a hiker hikes from Georgia to New Jersey, then boards a bus to Maine, and hikes Southbound from Katahdin to New Jersey.

2010 Thru-hiker Data

	Number Starting	Number Ending	% Finish
Northbounders	1,460	426	29%
Southbounders	256	45	17%
Flip Floppers	N/A	40	N/A

Thru-hiker data for 2010 - source of data Appalachian Trail Conservancy

So What are My Chances?

Each year, many people, young and old dream of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. Generally, most of these people are in the midst of a life-changing event: graduating college, retiring, exiting military, and divorce to name a few. Some have an unnerving wanderlust and others hike because they have no options.

So what is the chance that you will succeed? Not good—check out the chart to the right. But, even if you are hiking from Georgia and you only make it to the North Carolina line, it will stand as a memory that affects you forever.

My triumphant finish on Springer Mountain in Georgia, the Southern Terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Yes, I am wearing a kilt. | Source

ME>GA vs GA>ME

For those of you that skipped your mathematics logic classes you may not recognize the greater than ">" symbol, but never fear—along the AT it is a directional arrow. Quite simply on the AT, you are either a Northbounder (GA>ME) or a Southbounder (ME>GA).

Characteristics of a Northbound thru-hike:

Earlier start, many starting in March.
Shelters and hostels will be crowded (especially at the beginning)
Much more of a social experience.
The Southern portion of the trail is easier, so you can ease yourself into hiking shape.
You get to finish on Katahdin, which is an awesome mountain.
There is a timetable though, to beat the snow to Katahdin - usually October 15th.

Characteristics of a Southbound thru-hike:

Later start, usually around June 1st, to allow the snow and ice to clear the Northern mountains.
Much less crowded, but solitary
You hit Maine during black fly season—ouch!
Maine and New Hampshire are the hardest states to hike.
You miss all the trail festivals like Trail Days
Some facilities, like hostels and campgrounds, close down by the time Southbounders reach the South.
Springer is kind of...blah, not nearly as much of a majestic finish as is Katahdin.
Only 10% of all 2,000-milers have thru-hiked the trail Southbound.

As for me, I went Southbound, mainly because it worked better with my school schedule. Plus, I am not one for crowds and parties. That being said, being a Southbounder, especially when you are in the front of the pack, can be a very solitary existence.

Earl Shaffer's "Walking with Spring"

Walking with Spring

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Earl Shaffer: The First Thru-Hiker

Earl Shaffer was the first person documented to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail back in 1948. He thru-hiked the trail again in 1965 and once more at the age of 79 in 1998 on the 50th anniversary of thru-hiking.

Oddly enough, I met Earl while on my thru-hike in 1998; it was one of the highlights of my journey.

An encounter with Earl:

It was an extremely hot night in early August when I pulled in to the Wawayanda Shelter around 8 PM and chatted with other hikers staying there. I quickly used my stove to boil some ramen noodles before taking to slumber on the hard shelter floor. Then I saw a man plodding assuredly along the trail.
The senior citizen clad in dickies work pants, a flannel shirt, and signature pith helmet carried an old army ruck sack; he could only be one person: Earl Shaffer. He stopped by the lean-to and chatted with us and he seemed amused that I was a Southbounder—one of the few he met.
In true Earl fashion, with a half-hour or so of daylight left, he kept walking. As darkness overtook him, he would move off the trail, eat his hard boiled eggs, and cover himself with his simple tarp for the night.
I felt like snapping a picture of him, a hiking celebrity, but I kept the camera in my pouch. All of us deserve solitude and privacy, even the celebrities amongst us.

Don't worry about going the wrong way on the Appalachian Trail - it is pretty well marked. | Source

Connection Trails to the Appalachian Trail

From the Appalachian Trail one can access many other trails that lead across the United States and even to other countries. I realized this when I met a man that was commanded by God to walk to the four corners of the United States. He was pretty cool, but I was glad he was heading North and I was heading South.

There are many connections and blue-blazed side trails to the Appalachian Trail, here are a few of the more prominent ones:

International Appalachian Trail

The IAT starts at Mount Katahdin in Maine and winds 690 miles through Canada ending at the Gaspe Peninsula in Quebec. There is a movement to further extend the trail through Europe and North Africa.

Long Trail

The original US long trail runs 272 miles through the state of Vermont. The Long Trail and Appalachian Trail share the same walkway for about 100 miles in Southern Vermont.

Benton MacKaye Trail

Named for the father of the Appalachian Trail, the BMT stretches from Mount Springer in Georgia 300 miles to Davenport Gap in North Carolina. As this trail intersects the AT, it is quite possible to do long loop hikes.

American Discovery Trail

The ADT is a multiple use hiking and biking trail which spans 6,800 miles from East to West Coast.

Long Path

Starting at the George Washington Bridge, the Long Path intersects the Appalachian Trail at Harriman State Park and runs about 347 miles to the bank of the Mohawk River.

Follow the white blazes through the rhododendron ... | Source

So How Do I Start?

The first step in any backpacking trip, whether going out for the weekend or for a multi-month journey, is to research the trail you are hiking on. There is a myriad of resources available about the Appalachian Trail, many of which are available from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy.

If you are planning a long-distance venture or thru-hike, you'll need information on resupply points, hostels, and outfitters. Luckily, someone has already put this together for you. The standard for many years was Dan "Wingfoot" Bruce's book The Thru-Hiker's Handbook; however, that series of books ended in 2010.

The new standard handbook is from "Awol," The A.T. Guide; it is available in Northbound and Southbound editions. As far as regional state-by-state guide books, they are available too but most long-distance hikers don't carry them. These handbooks for the Appalachian Trail are updated annually and are very accurate.

The biggest thing, especially with thru-hiking, is to read all you can before you go, and please go backpacking a few times before hitting Springer. You, and the people around you, will have a better time if it isn't your first time out in the woods.

So if you have the chance to spend some time on the Appalachian Trail this year, remember its history and the millions of footsteps that helped define this cultural icon.

Yes, there are wild ponies along the Appalachian Trail. These equines are in Grayson Highlands State Park in Virginia.

The Ten Essentials of Hiking

2026-02-24T08:51:00.000-08:00

Be Prepared

The Boy Scouts have a pretty good motto, "Be Prepared," and it is certainly a maxim to live by. However, If you don't heed that advice in the outdoors, it could be something to die by. The outdoors is a wonderful place; however, it is a potentially dangerous place full of hazards not encountered in city life. When studying backcountry incident reports, it's evident there is usually a common link between those injured and lost: unpreparedness. From not being physically prepared to handle the terrain to not carrying the simplest of gear on a day hike, the unprepared give search and rescue teams good practice.

Though I'll address physical preparation in another article, the easiest way to be prepared for any outdoor activity is to carry the "ten essentials." Now the name can be misleading; sometimes there are more than ten, and yes, sometimes even an essential item doesn't always make sense for the environment you are in. These items are guidelines for what to carry in the outdoors: are you allowed to carry more —absolutely, less—let's program SAR teams into your satellite phone.

The 10 essentials have been around in one form or another since the 1930s when The Mountaineers climbing club first released their list. Though many outdoor organizations have their own Ten Essentials list, the list in this article is based on the current edition of the must-have backcountry book Mountaineering: The Freedom of the Hills. Even if you're not a cold-weather mountaineer, this book should be on everyone's outdoor bookshelf.

The 10 essentials of hiking | Source

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Having the right items in your pack elevates your level of comfort and survival on the trail.

The Classics

Map of the Area in Which You Are Traveling:

Having google earth on your iPhone does not excuse you from carrying a map and knowing how to read it. Before heading into the backcountry, you should master these three map skills at the least: deciphering terrain features, understand contour, and be able to estimate distance.

Compass:

Again having a GPS system does not make you exempt from carrying a compass. A GPS is a mechanical device which can fail and can run out of batteries. Though there are many compasses on the market, I would suggest carrying an orienteering model with a clear baseplate from a reputable company like silva, brunton, or suunto. Like a map, know how to use a compass before heading out.

Sun Protection:

For those of you that haven't heard yet, the sun's rays can be dangerous to your health at all times of the year. Many winter backpackers have skipped carrying sunglasses and sunscreen, only to end up sunburned and snow blind. To avoid the sun's rays carry a pair of polarized sunglasses, sunscreen (sport type SPF 15 or higher), lip balm, and a hat. I like to carry a bandanna that I wear around my neck too. You may also want to check out specialized sun apparel, like Columbia omin-shade, that has sun protection built into the garment.

Extra Food and Water

Our bodies are machines, in order for our engines to work we must provide it with the proper fuel. Pack nutritious, electrolyte replenishing, and long burning trail snacks. Avoid food with complicated preparation and that which generates a lot of waste. Some excellent trail snacks are GORP (good ol' raisins and peanuts), granola bars, beef jerky, and donuts. Okay the donuts aren't good trail snacks, but I like donuts so I put them on the list.
Water is a definite must in all conditions and at all times of year. Though all people differ with their water consumption levels, I drink about a third of a liter per every mile walked. Know your body, and how much water you need to carry. I generally suggest carrying two full 1-liter bottles
Because water is one of the heaviest things most backpackers carry at 2.2 pounds per liter, you may consider carrying something to purify water. Water can be made potable through mechanical filtering, boiling, chemically treating, and using UV light lamps. Consider all water, even in the most remote areas, unsafe to drink.

Headlamp

Sure you could carry a hand held flashlight, but try climbing, bushwhacking, or carrying anything you'll wish you had another hand - or a headlamp. Headlamps are available in a myriad of styles, but if you are purchasing one look for an LED model. LEDs are much more battery efficient and have an extremely long bulb life, generally you don't even have to carry extra batteries.

Extra Clothing/Rain Gear

In my favorite place to hike, the Adirondack High Peaks, signs have been erected at every trailhead warning hikers that weather conditions can change rapidly and to carry appropriate clothing layers. I've stood on a mountain in an ice storm in June, so yes weather conditions change very quickly. Though the clothing you take with you will differ as per the climate, remember the following:
Wear synthetic or wool clothing—it wicks away moisture and retains its thermal properties even when wet.
Several thin layers are much better than one thick coat—air (which is easier to warm) is trapped in between the layers. The flexibility of layers allows you to add and subtract layers as the conditions or your your body exertion changes.
Even when no rain is forecast, you should bring rain gear. Though ponchos have their advantages, I prefer rain suits. A good waterproof breathable jacket allows the perspiration to escape and serves as an outer wind/rain/snow layer. Make sure you buy rain gear large enough to go over all of your layers. If you buy a jacket with a waist drawstring you can stuff your jacket with leaves in a survival situation—try doing that with a poncho.

First Aid Kit

Most likely you will never have the opportunity to suture in the field on a backpacking trip, but you'll probably have a few abrasions and blisters to deal with. You don't need to carry an EMT jump bag with you, but a small personalized first aid kit can quickly alleviate most wounds. Always tailor your first aid kit according to the trip duration, environment, hazards, and participants.
Sample First Aid Kit:
Pouch: quart size plastic freezer bag
Emergency contact ICE information
Three gauze pads 2x2
2 gauze pads 4x4
3-inch roller bandage
moleskin /blister kit
Non-latex gloves
Assorted bandages
Chewable Aspirin
Antiseptic wipes
Antibiotic ointment
Triangular bandage

Knife

Okay Crocodile Dundee I know "knife" is on the list, but you may want to leave the machete at home. The bigger the knife, the heavier the pack and the larger the first aid kit. As a backpacker, I can accomplish all of my knife tasks with a 3-inch blade. Sure sometimes the peanut butter jar is deeper than that, but it's the wilderness and I make do. Knives are actually quite handy, from making quick work of slicing pepperoni to performing complex survival skills.
Many people opt to carry Leatherman-type multi-tools and the Swiss Army Knife has been popular for decades. I tend to like small non-folding neck knives. So what do you look for in an outdoor essential knife? That really depends on the user: each knife has a character and a purpose. Something to ponder though, if your pack is pinning you down underwater and you have to cut yourself loose: how much do you trust your knife?

Matches/Lighter

"Matches? I don't need no stinkin' matches! I'm just going on a day hike and I'm not planning on starting a fire or lighting a stove." Well, you may not be planning on it, but Aron Ralston didn't plan on amputating his own arm either (yes, another reason for carrying a knife).
Carry matches in a waterproof match case, then put that match case inside of a plastic bag. Don't forget to cut a match striker off of the box and sick it in the match case too. Besides matches, you may also want to carry a butane lighter.

Fire Starter

If you train yourself to look for tinder, you can usually find dry or ignitable tinder even in a rainstorm. Sometimes, finding dry tinderespecially when it is dark outside—is extremely challenging. Carry a few fire starters to make starting a fire easier. Though many fire starters are commercially available, you can make your own too. Try smearing cotton balls in Vaseline and store them in a plastic snack bag - just light them and watch them burn.
As a skill, learn to find natural tinder and what materials in your area burn even when wet. Also, learn to carve a fuzz stick with your knife. To make a fuzz stick, carve a small stick in one direction and leave the shavings attached. Carve all the way around the stick and then begin moving down the stick, until the stick looks like a sickly conifer tree. Place the fuzz stick directly over your tinder to maximize the success of starting a fire.

A whistle, garbage bag and space blanket are essential items to keep in your pack. As you can see, a space blanket can double as a reflective signaling device. | Source

Whistles are so important, that I usually carry two with me.

Other Essentials

Though a few items are not in the classic Ten Essentials list, there are a few other critical items that everyone should carry with them.

Whistle: Even though the whistle isn't on the official list, you NEED to carry one. Think not? Go outside and run two miles, then scream "Help" for as long as you can. (Before doing this, please alert your neighbors you are engaging in a survival experiment) Tough, isn't it? It is much easier to call for help with three blasts of a whistle - the whistle distress signal - than it is to yell. Make sure you buy a "pealess" whistle so the whistle continues to work even if it is frozen or wet.
Garbage Bag: Garbage bags are one of the most awesome pieces of outdoor equipment. Not only can they be used to pick up the trash of inconsiderate outdoor ruffians, but they can save your life in a pinch too. Caught in a rainstorm and freezing cold, turn your garbage bag into a waterproof vapor barrier liner. Spending the night without a sleeping bag, fill your garbage bag with leaves and crawl inside for a "comfy" night's sleep. No fresh water to drink; procure water by using the bag to build a solar still. Skip the wimpy household bags and opt for a large contractor-grade garbage bag.
Space Blanket: Mylar space blankets are inexpensive, light, and very useful. These simple blankets reflect your body heat back onto you and block the wind and rain. Often during winter hikes, I'll pull one out to cover myself during long breaks—sometimes, it is easier than adding layers. I've even fashioned a tarp out of one of these wafer-thin blankets during an unplanned overnight bivy on a very windy and rainy mountain range.
Small Cooking Pot/Cup: Even if you aren't planning on cooking a meal on your hike, you should carry some sort of small vessel to boil water. If you can boil water, you can purify it or warm your body with some pine-needle tea on an unplanned night outside. Though I almost always carry a small stove, at the least, I'll carry something like the UST Double-Up Cup that I can place over a fire if needed. As a multipurpose option, you can also boil water in most stainless steel water bottles in a pinch.
Foam Pad: A closed cell foam pad is not only great insulation from the ground as a seat but is also multipurpose. It serves as a windscreen for a stove and can also be used as a splint for a broken bone.

A few great outdoor needs that I always carry. | Source

Outbound Dan's Critical Four

Though you should always carry the Ten Essentials, there are some things you should always try to carry in your pockets in case you are separated from the rest of your gear. Many peak baggers have a bad practice of dropping their packs in the col and climbing up the rest of the way with no gear. So what happens when you can't find the way back to your pack? What happens is you lose your pack in a river crossing and are washed downstream? Be prepared to stay the night by carrying Outbound Dan Human's Critical Four.

Compass

Even as a lightweight backpacker, I carry two compasses with me. Though I always carry an orienteering compass in my pack, the compass on my person isn't nearly as fancy: I just need general direction. My High Gear altimeter watch has a built in electronic compass that works very well, but I usually throw on a simple watchband compass too. If I am purposefully leaving my pack behind, I will of course bring my full-sized orienteering compass.
Even without a map, at least you can maintain a direction of travel if you possess a compass. When a person become lost, they begin to wander and have difficulty maintaining their bearings. Generally if you walk in a straight line for long enough, you will cross a road or a trail. That technique has gotten me out of pinches in the backcountry before.

Knife

As described above, the hiking knife doesn't need to be complicated, it just needs to have a dependable sharp edge that is easy to deploy. There is a reason why a knife is man's oldest tool - it is perhaps the handiest in the wilderness. If you are going to have to make a survival shelter, you'll want a knife for cutting materials and branches. Also, if you have a knife on you, you can make a bowdrill fire starter.
Now, I carry a neck knife so it is always with me. I've been carrying Cold Steel Para-edge knives for years, but recently started carrying an Esee Knives Izula with a cord wrapped handle. So why a neck knife? I hike a lot in winter, wearing clothing with zipped pockets so a knife is hard to get at. If it is in a kydex sheath around your neck, just yank, and it is ready to cut. This comes in handy in case you ever have to cut yourself loose from a sled.

Whistle

Ever since I was a toddler, I've carried a whistle whenever I am in the backcountry. Though, I've never had to use one to rescue myself, it's an ounce worth carrying in case I ever needed it. Remember the whistle is the easiest to use signaling device and that a whistle blast travels much farther than your shouts.
The worse thing to do, is to store your whistle out of reach in your pack. What happens if you fall and are unable to put your hands on your whistle? Keep your whistle accessible by the fewest steps possible. Good ways to carry a whistle include a (breakable) lanyard around your neck and attaching it to a jacket zipper. I do have a whistle attached to my neck knife sheath, the downfall being - if I lose my knife I lose my whistle too.

Fire Starter

Yes, many of us have a fire starting kit in our packs, but I like to keep something on me just for emergencies. The ideal personal emergency fire starter should be something that works when wet (remember it is in your pocket exposed to sweat, snow, and rain), is long lasting, and easy to use and ignite tinder.
Years ago, I found that my butane lighters would freeze in very cold weather. I found that if I put a lighter in a plastic bag, then put it in the napoleon pocket in my jacket, it would stay warm so I could light my stove at night. I still carry a brunton firestorm lighter with a waterproof casing in my jacket pocket. The nice thing about torch-type lighters is that they have an extremely hot flame to start damp tinder and are very easy to use when your fingers are cold.
Sometimes when I am going ultralight, I'll just attach a ferrocerium rod, to my knife or whistle. These sparking rods work when wet and release a very hot shower of sparks; however, they do take practice and are hard to use when your fingers are cold.

Outbound Dan's Critical Four

How to Use a Warranty to Replace Hiking Boots

2026-02-24T08:47:00.000-08:00

Usually lug delamination is covered by the manufacturer's warranty. | Source

Boot Warranties

So the boots you bought a few months ago are leaking, the tread wore out, and the mid-sole flexes unnaturally. Hopefully, your boots have a replacement warranty. Unfortunately, defects arise even in good-quality hiking, hunting, and work boots. Arm yourself with the manufacturer's warranty policy and a few tips, and maybe you can get a free pair of replacement boots.

This article provides important tips on making the most out of your manufacturer's warranty and provides you with contact information for most of the top brands in outdoor footwear.

If you bust a seam on your hiking boot on your first trip, it sounds like you have a valid warranty issue. | Source

Understanding Footwear Return Policy

Start first by being realistic. If you beat the hell out of your boots for the last five years and never took care of them — don't bother.
Clean your boots! If you bring in a pair of muddy boots to a store and throw them on the counter, what kind of service do you expect? The same goes for sending them back to the manufacturer.
Most manufacturer warranties cover defects in materials and craftsmanship; know the difference between abuse and a defect.
Research the manufacturer and retailer return policies before making contact.

If you kick a hole in your boot, it may not be covered by a warranty. | Source

What Voids a Warranty?

So what can you do to void a boot manufacturer's warranty?

Failure to clean and maintain the hiking boots according to instructions.
Modifying or altering the boot.
Using the boot for an activity other than it was intended.
Improper fit.

What Does "Limited Warranty" Mean?

Most, if not all, manufacturers describe their warranty as "limited," but what does this mean? By wading through the legal speak of many disclosures, it boils down to one concept: the warranty doesn't cover wear and tear.

If you wear your boots out, they probably won't be covered, but sometimes it doesn't hurt to try. You'll find out that the term "under normal usage" is a fairly subjective concept and one that may work in your favor.

Remember to wash the mud off your boots before returning them as defective. | Source

Take Them Back to Where You Purchased Them

Your best bet, when dealing with defective merchandise of any kind, is to return it to the retailer where you purchased it. Many stores take care of defective product issues in an effort to provide great customer service. In addition, most retailers have agreements with manufacturers to settle warranty issues at the store. Depending on the retailer and the brand in question, some may send your boots out for evaluation, others may simply swap out the boots on the spot.

Tips For a Successful Store Exchange:

Be nice, and explain the situation to some sort of manager. Your attitude affects how much assistance you'll receive.
Once more, MAKE SURE THE BOOTS ARE CLEAN!
Know the manufacturer's warranty policy.
Bring a receipt showing when you purchased your footwear.
Bring the box, too (if you have it)! Customers that have the shoe box get a better reception at customer service.

Even if your boots are past the coverage period, in order to make the sale and keep a customer, a store may offer you a discount on a new pair of boots.

Contact the Manufacturer

If the store doesn't pan out (and you feel you still have a claim), contact the manufacturer directly. When dealing with the manufacturer, explain your loyalty to the brand and how you feel the boot failed.

If they don't respond in one week, consider posting a non-nasty message to their FaceBook wall. Their social networking coordinator will contact you. Most boot makers want to work with you as the customer, just be polite. As with all customer service successes, make sure you thank them and provide positive feedback when it is due.

Major Boot Manufacturers Customer Service Contacts

The following list of major hiking, hunting, and work boot manufacturers provides contact information and how to use their warranty. As a reminder, bootmakers may change the policies at any time.

Whenever sending boots back to the manufacturer, make sure they are clean, also include a copy of the receipt when you purchased them. Of course, make sure you provide complete contact information and include any return authorization numbers. Also, be safe and insure and track any packages you send out.

Asolo: 1-year warranty. They recommend bringing a defective product to the dealer where you purchased them.
Columbia:1-year limited warranty. Contact the retailer or send back to Columbia with your contact information, description of the problem, and receipt.

Columbia Sportswear
Attn: Warranty Department
7000 North Leadbetter Rd.
Portland, Oregon 97203

Danner: 1-year limited warranty. Contact Danner for a return authorization number before sending boots. Receive an RA through info@danner.com or by calling the customer service number at 1-877-432-6637.
Hi-Tec: 90 Day limited warranty. Bring back boots to a dealer for service; if purchased directly from Hi-Tec, contact them at 1-800-521-169
Irish Setter: 6-month limited warranty plus additional pro-rated warranty beyond six months. Return defective boots to your Irish Setter retailer.
Keen: 1-year warranty plus a 2-year warranty on Keen. Dry waterproofing. Take them back to the retailer or submit a Keen warranty claim form.
LaCrosse: Warranty stretches between 90 days and 1 year, depending on style. Send to:

LaCrosse Returns Department
17634 NE Airport Way
Portland, OR 97230

La Sportiva:1-year limited warranty. Return boots to their retailer. If you have difficulties, e-mail them at custserv@sportiva.com.
Lowa: 1-year limited warranty. Call Lowa at 1-888-335-5692 for a return authorization.
Merrell / Wolverine: 1 year limited warranty. You must email them for a return authorization number; send your information to Merrell at productwarranty@wwwinc.com
Montrail: If you think you have a warranty issue, e-mail Montrail's warranty department at warranty@montrail.com
Patagonia: Fill out the return form and send it and your footwear back to Patagonia.
Red Wing: 30-day comfort guarantee, 1 year limited warranty. Return defective boots directly to a Red Wing store.
Salomon: 2-year limited warranty on footwear. Return all footwear to an authorized Salomon retail outlet or retailer.
Scarpa: 1-year limited warranty. Bring defective boots to a Scarpa dealer or contact through warranty@scarpa.com
Teva: 1-year limited warranty. Send your defective boots to:

Teva® Returns Department
3175 Mission Oaks Blvd.
Dock Door #1-6
Camarillo, CA 93012

The North Face: 1-year limited warranty. Send boots back to The North Face:

The North Face® Warranty Department
14450 Doolittle Drive
San Leandro, CA 94577

Timberland: Limited warranty. Contact your local retailer or email them at info@timerland.com
Vasque: 1-year limited warranty. Contact Vasque at customer.service@vasque.com

You have to love the Gore-tex guarantee. | Source

If Your Boots Are Gore-Tex, They Are Guaranteed to Keep You Dry

If you have gore-tex boots, you have another option for warranty service, and that is to go directly through W.L. Gore. All Gore-tex footwear is guaranteed waterproof for the life of the boot (this does not mean guaranteed for life). The Gore warranty doesn't cover damage to the tread or any other part of the boot-only the Gore-tex membrane.
If you aren't satisfied with your Gore-tex product, contact W.L. Gore at 1-800-GORE TEX.
Yes, the Gore "Guaranteed To Keep You Dry" promise is a great reason to choose Gore's waterproof, breathable membrane in your boots.

How Does a Company Replace Your Boots?

So, you negotiated a successful warranty claim, how do you get your new boots? The manner in which you are compensated differs based on the company, but there are a few options:

Repair: The boots are repaired to correct the defect - pretty rare, but it does happen.
Swap Out: The company grabs a pair of new boots off the shelf and does an even exchange.
Coupon Code: The manufacturer or retailer provides you with a special promotional code to use on their e-commerce shopping site. Generally, the amount is for the retail on the defective boot. If you care to upgrade, just pay the difference.

Backpacking Survival Stories: Using a Knife to Escape From a Falling Sled

2026-02-24T08:45:00.000-08:00

Backpacking Survival Stories: Using a Knife to Escape From a Falling Sled

A True Story of Escaping Danger in the Adirondacks

Pretty little streams like this one can be deadly in the winter. | Source

Since the age of six, a knife has been my constant pocket companion and a dependable daily tool; and on one trip, my blade delivered me from serious injury and maybe death.

Seven years ago, I was two days into a five-day solo trip into the rugged Five Ponds Wilderness in the Western Adirondacks. It was early January. I was on the east side of the Five Ponds loop heading toward High Falls on the Oswegatchie River.

The Five Ponds Wilderness doesn't get much traffic in winter. According to the trail register, the last person before me had passed through about a week and a half before.

I was walking an unbroken trail, through deep snow, with my Atlas snowshoes breaking through the crust-topped powder. I dragged a sled behind me with the gear I needed for the journey. I didn't usually use a sled, but this was a long trip and I didn't feel like carrying the weight. Little did I know that sled might cost me my life.

My feet grew heavy from packing the powder down with every step as I trudged down the trail. I had already been walking for a few hours, and the cold air forced its way into my lungs as I rapidly pushed out the hot breath of exertion.

I came across a two-log bridge that spanned a small gully about 12 feet wide. A creek, frozen now, ran under the simple bridge, some ten feet below it.

Though this isn't "the" bridge, two-log bridges like this are common all over the Adirondack region. | Source

I started to disconnect the sled from my tow harness as I had done at the previous half dozen log bridges, but this bridge looked wider than the rest: at least a foot wide. I took the lazy man's way out of leaving the sled connected to me as I snowshoed across the snowy bridge. I steadied myself with my trekking poles, clearing the snow off the rough unhewn logs as I walked. My crampons bit firmly into the wood, and I checked behind as the sled slid truly in my track.

Snowshoes, like the Alps from Tubbs here, are best on the snow and not for crossing narrow log bridges. | Source

I was nearly across myself, and my sled nearly halfway, when the large jolt hit me that nearly sent me on my way.

One knee dropped down, slamming against the bridge, as my other foot stayed firm, the snowshoe crampons gripping as my entire body torqued. I looked behind me at the nylon rope over the simple bridge, and saw my black sled hanging down—only a few feet from the frozen creek below. With my pack and other gear still bungeed down securely, the sled swung like an unbalanced pendulum, its weight pulling me down with every pass.

My back arched backward as the harness rose up, every muscle in my body fighting the insidious force of gravity that beckoned me to my doom. I dropped one trekking pole as my hand slipped out of the loop and grabbed hold of the bridge, leaving the carbide tip of the other pole lodged firmly between the logs. The loose pole dropped onto the ice, making a loud "tock" sound; it was the only sound I heard as all else went silent in that late-morning winter forest. No chirping chickadees, no howling Adirondack wind: I heard only the sound of that pole knocking against the ice.

I had thoughts of letting go and falling backwards under the pressure of the sled, falling through the ice. I wondered how deep the water was, if there were any rocks below, would I break a leg in the fall, or would I break my back? How long would I lie there? It would be at least another three days until I was reported missing. It was mid-week and it was unlikely another skier or snowshoer would venture back this far. Yes, if I survived the fall I would likely spend days in an injured state before getting any help.

Of course this was a region without cell service, years before anyone thought of carrying a satellite messenger: a true wilderness. I thought back to the previous night at Janack's Landing campsite overlooking Cranberry Lake, remembering the packs of coyotes that howled on the ice and left their tracks before me. Would they find me, injured or dead? In that moment, fighting to balance myself on that log, I mused at the prospect of being a meal for a hungry coyote. If I was going to go that way, it would be appropriate to the way I had lived my life.

Maybe it was the exhaustion of winter travel or a general lack of physical prowess, but I couldn't lift that sled up. I grabbed hold of the rope with my gloved hand and pulled like I was in a tug-of-war battle for my life; which I was. I was locked in a stalemate against the sled. Its swaying weight mocked me. What was I going to do? I had to drop the sled, risk the loss of my gear, and try to walk out to the trailhead that day. Maybe the water wasn't deep and I could salvage some of my equipment, at least enough to survive the winter climate on my way out.

I tried unbuckling the tow harness, but couldn't manage the buckle one handed. I needed one hand to grip the trekking pole steadying me on the bridge. I pulled my glove off with my teeth to get better dexterity, but still couldn't pull the taut nylon through the buckle under that much tension.

How a Knife Saved my Life

Since this incident, no backpacking gear list is complete without a handy neck knife. | Source

Then I looked to the small Cold Steel para edge knife I kept around my neck. It was an unassuming tool, a black Kraton handle held upside down in a black Kydex sheath and worn around my neck like an amulet to ward off evil.

I started carrying neck knives when I started French-and-Indian War reenacting, and realized how handy the jaw-bone patch knife I carried around my neck was while engaged in general camp work. When I found that manufacturers like Cold Steel made modern neck knives, I knew I had to have one, and now I have several.

In the winter, when pockets are buried under layers of polypropylene and gore-tex, accessing a pocket knife is difficult, impossible even. That is why I like the neck knife: it is always quick to deploy with a simple tug and always within easy reach—even when balancing on a log bridge.

I knew I had but one choice, so I yanked on the handle of my knife with my free hand exposing the small but sharp partially serrated blade. I reached the knife around behind my back till I felt the blade catch my tow rope. In one swift motion, I pulled the knife, sliding the cutting edge against the nylon rope until I heard a sharp "snap." Then seemingly moments later, I heard the crash as my sled pulverized the ice below.

At once, all the tension was released from my body like a rubber band snapped into the sky. I nearly fell, but somehow caught myself. I looked down at the sled below sticking tail first into the ice and at the small knife curled in my fingers. I snapped my knife, my lifesaver, back into its sheath around my neck and pulled myself to a standing position on the bridge. I took a couple steps and finally crossed the bridge.

I crawled down the steep bank to salvage my gear. I found my other trekking pole close by and retrieved it to give me the added balance I needed to get my sled out. I used the pole to grab the severed end of the tow rope and pull the sled to the side of the bank where the ice was thick and strong. The ice started to crack as I drew the sled out of the freezing water and closer to me, but luckily it held as the sled plopped firmly out of the hole. While in the gully, I unbuckled the bungee cords and began throwing my gear in bundles up over the snow-covered bank. Finally the sled was empty, and honestly a part of me considered leaving it there by that creek, like the wreck of a Conestoga wagon burned by marauders. But I tossed the empty sled with its cut tow rope and impact-damaged sides over next to the rest of my gear.

Luckily for me, the waterproofing techniques I had used for packing worked. Very little of my stuff was soaked, and most importantly, my sleeping bag was still bone-dry. I paused at the far side of the bridge, surveying my equipment and pondering the rest of my journey into the Five Ponds. Should I stop now, having just escaped a snowy demise, or should I push on? Looking up at the snow-covered trees and the sun trying to poke out, I contemplated the utter beauty and danger of winter wilderness solitude. I retied my tow rope, tightened my snowshoe bindings and trudged on deeper to find more adventure.

But be assured, on the rest of that trip I faithfully disconnected my sled every time I came to a bridge.

The beauty of winter backpacking is locked in the fine details of nature.

The Art of Solo Backpacking and Hiking

2026-02-24T08:39:00.000-08:00

The Art of Solo Backpacking and Hiking

Enjoying the sun after a heavy rain on a solo hike in the Adirondacks. | Source

Is Solo Backpacking Safe?

Whenever I speak to outdoor groups about backpacking and hiking, I always advocate hiking in small groups for safety. Then one observant person in the crowd pipes up and asks, "Why are you alone in all your pictures?"

Then, I see disapproving stares and hear murmurs of, "All alone, he must be insane."

I admit it: I am a solo hiker, a pariah amongst outing clubs and I love it.

When people think of solo backpackers they think of Aron Ralston, who being pinned by a boulder for five days, amputated his own arm. Thoughts also drift to Christopher McCandless, of Into the Wild fame, who starved (or perhaps poisoned himself) to death alone in the Alaskan wilderness.

You see, solo hikers get a bad rap ...

I've had quite a bit of fun over the years on solo backpacking adventures, hiking the Appalachian Trail solo, and hiking all but one of the Adirondack 46 High Peaks solo too (I'll fix that in a few weeks hopefully).

Is solo hiking dangerous? It can be, but then again, camping in your backyard can be dangerous too. Backpacking solo safely is possible through managing your risk by being prepared and knowing your limits.

Views like these with peaceful solitude are the reward for solo hiking. This photo taken on a solo backpacking trip of the Seward Range. | Source

Solo camping is simple as seen by my lightweight campsite on the Eastside Overland Trail. Tarps are great for experiencing a oneness with nature. | Source

"It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it."

— Rainer Maria Rilke

Why Do Solo Hiking?

Quite honestly, going solo gives us an elusive opportunity to have an honest conversation with ourselves. Not only away from the impressions of others, but away from social media, and the pressures of conformity.

It's hard to form our own ideas when immersed in an artificial world we didn't create. We must get away from influence, so we can be our own person.

And even though I'm speaking of escaping influence, appropriately in "Walking" Thoreau prepares the walker by saying:

If you are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again; if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man; then you are ready for a walk.

For Thoreau, to truly walk is to give yourself completely over to nature. It is also not possible to enjoy everything a walk has to offer when you are concerned with the affairs of the office, the farm, or whatever else distracts you from being wholly present. As a solo hiker, it is easier to mitigate distractions and immerse yourself in your surroundings.

I generally have my best ideas while mucking about in the woods. So many ideas that I, who abhors the non-necessities, carry a notebook and pen with me now. But now the notebook is a necessity. Even though that is much like my cooking—some of my ideas are better left in the woods.

Solo hiking has a much more pragmatic reason too; it's hard to find a hiking companion. It is nearly impossible to find a person that shares your pace and your goals, and sometimes it is hard finding anyone at all. With a tough economy and vacation at a premium, if you want to get outdoors, you may have to do it by yourself.

Watch your step! Falls area potential hazard for all hikers. This picture taken on a solo Great Range traverse in the Adirondacks. | Source

Expert Tip

Carry copies of guidebook pages for the entire area you are hiking in, not just the trail you are on. The information will come in handy, if you have to make an emergency bailout.

Watch the weather! Even though clouds like these look cool, weather changes rapidly in mountain climates. Taken on solo trip in Colvin Range. | Source

Risk Management and Solo Hiking

Yes, as lawyers tell us, with all things outdoors there are inherent risks involved, and perhaps even more as a solo backpacker. However, being safe in the outdoors is all about managing the risk associated with the activity.

In the article "How Dangerous is Solo Hiking, Really?" High Country Explorations makes the argument that it is less safe to be with a group of incompetent people rather than a solo hiker that follows a good risk-management strategy.

That being said, it is safer to travel with a group of competent companions (using good risk management) than it is to be a competent solo outdoor enthusiast with the same outlook toward risk.

Tips for a Safer and Successful Trip:

Always, always, always leave a trip plan with someone back home. No one was looking for Aron Ralston because he didn't inform anyone about his hike plans.
Sign in (and out) at every trail and shelter register—it will make things easier if people are looking for you.
For your first couple of solo trips, stick to well-traveled trails and campsites.
Research all potential hazards in the area and develop contingencies for dealing with them.
Master your backcountry survival and camping skills as listed below.
Carry the Ten Essentials
Be physically fit enough for rugged hiking and have a doctor's check-up.
Know your limits and when to turn around!

A solo trip on the Cranberry Lake 50 trail - I didn't see any other hikers on this trip. Notice the lack of a gigantic pack. Lightweight backpacking techniques are imperative for solo hikers. | Source

Gear for Solo Hiking

There are no secrets here, the gear for solo hiking is exactly the same the group hiking; however, you may feel your pack getting heavier. One of the beauties of group hiking, after all, is that you get to distribute the weight amongst all the participants.

Solo hikers often master lightweight backpacking, as to carry all their camping and safety equipment, yet still be comfortable on the trail. As a lightweight solo backpacker, I generally average around eight pounds of equipment for a summer three-day trip. With food and water, that weight gets up to around 15 pounds.

Quick Tips for Lightweight Backpacking:

Downsize your pack.
Weigh everything and create a spreadsheet in Excel to track weight.
Carry high-quality multi-use equipment and avoid carrying back-up gear
Avoid multiple stuff sacks. Carry everything that needs to stay dry in one larger sil-nylon bag—it will pack easier too.
Watch how much food you carry—food is often the heaviest burden in the pack.

Most importantly, never compromise safety for the sake of weight, especially as a solo backpacker. If something happens in the backcountry, the only person you depend on is yourself. It's important to have the right gear to back you up.

Expert Tip

Carry a "pealess" emergency whistle around your neck- they work even if they are wet or frozen.

Attracting Help as a Solo Hiker

So it happened. You slipped on a log (damn slimy logs) and think you fractured your leg. Unfortunately, there is no group to give you aid and run back and grab a ranger for extrication. Now, what do you do?

These are the questions you have to ask yourself if you are contemplating solo outdoor adventures.

Though a whistle is an essential piece of any hiker's equipment, it is especially important for a solo hiker. Keep a whistle on you at ALL times, just in case you are separated from your pack. You'll be surprised how far the shrill sound of a rescue whistle travels. If you need help just blow your whistle three times every few minutes. Listen for the reply, which is two whistle blasts.

Though cell phones have limitations with reception in the backcountry, satellite messengers like those from SPOT, offer peace of mind to solo hikers. SPOT works by relaying your position directly to satellites and has a number of features. Perhaps the best feature is the "check-in" feature which sends a signal to people watching your progress back home letting them know you are okay and where you are. In an emergency, you can let Search and Rescue know you need help and inform them of your position.

As great as SPOT and other personal satellite locators are, they are not an excuse to be foolhardy. These tools are after all, mechanical devices, and though they are very reliable, they are no substitute for common sense.

Staring at the moon on a solo winter hiking trip. | Source

“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.”

— Henry Rollins

Are You Lonesome Tonight?

Many solo hikers have heard the question, "Aren't you lonely out there by yourself?"

And though humans are social animals, solo hikers are solo for a purpose and usually do not miss the social experience that hiking can be. So though, they are without social interaction, most soloists are not lonely.

It's not that all solo hikers are antisocial misanthropes (well some are), but most are generally well-adjusted individuals. If you see a solo hiker, resist the urge to chastise their decision and you'll most likely have a pleasant trail conversation.

Sometimes solo hiking can be a very un-lonely experience. Between casual conversation with hikers, you meet along the trail, and sharing campsites with others, sometimes an intended solo trip seems anything but.

The most difficult task of a solo trip can be maintaining your solitude.

Important Skills for Solo Backpackers

So you know the risks involved and still want to join those hikers that prefer to be on the trails alone. What skills do you need?

Navigation - You must be able to competently use a map and compass. Also, most solo hikers carry a GPS—make sure you can use that too.
First Aid - Though the community first aid course is a start, take a wilderness first aid course to learn how to deal with medical emergencies when help is far away. Also, read all you can about improvisation in medical treatment.
Survival - As a solo hiker, you must be well-versed in survival. From starting a fire without matches to building an improvised shelter for the night, you must channel your inner Les Stroud.
Cooking and Water Purification - Meal planning and the ability to prepare food is a must for the solo hiker. You don't need to be a gourmet, but you need to practice your cooking skills, even if it is just boiling water. Speaking of water, make sure you know all the methods of treating water and making it safe to drink.
Camping - Though this should go without saying, as a solo hiker you need to be an expert camper. You need to know how and where to pitch your shelter, how to stay warm and keep cool, plus be an expert in field sanitation. Your first camping trip should not be solo.
Leave No Trace Ethics - Help preserve what you see today for the hikers of tomorrow, by practicing Leave No Trace and leaving an area better than you found it.
Weather Forecasting - So what do those nimbus clouds really mean, and can you get over the exposed ridge in time?
Decision Making - This is one of the most important skills for solo hikers. You must be able to make hasty decisions that don't compromise safety.

Even going to the bathroom has its risks!

A Loop Hike in the Niagara Gorge From Devil's Hole State Park

2026-02-24T08:36:02.720-08:00

A Loop Hike in the Niagara Gorge From Devil's Hole State Park

The Niagara Gorge in summertime | Source

Devil's Hole and Niagara Falls Gorge Hike Overview

This short loop hike into the Niagara Falls Gorge is one of my favorite trails in Western New York. The scenery is spectacular, and the climb gets your blood pumping. Venture down this trail midweek, and you'll escape the crowds of Niagara Falls and even find some solitude.

Trailhead: Devil's Hole State Park
Distance: 2.5 miles round trip
Difficulty: Intermediate—beware of steep, uneven stairs and loose rock

Looking south on the Niagara River Gorge from the Rim Trail near Devil's Hole State Park on a snowless December day | Source

Devil's Hole State Park:

Devil's Hole State Park, Niagara Falls, NY 14305, USA

get directions

Along the Rim Trail in Devil's Hole State Park | Source

The Rim Trail

Though this loop can be hiked either from Whirlpool or Devil's Hole State Park, I generally like hiking this trail from Devil's Hole. Start by parking in Devil's Hole, then walk to the Rim Trail and walk south (head left—with the river to your right).

The Rim Trail runs along the top of the gorge from Devil's Hole right to the top of Niagara Falls. Along the way, there are some spectacular vistas of the Niagara Gorge and the river below. In itself, the Rim Trail is a fantastic hike with great views. However, on this hike, you will only take the Rim Trail .78 miles to the Whirlpool Stairs.

Top of the Whirlpool Stairs | Source

Part of the Whirlpool Stairs | Source

Whirlpool Stairs

There are many ways into the gorge, but the Whirlpool Stairs is amongst the most popular. It is about 300 steps to the bottom of the gorge or about .2 miles.

In 2016, the upper portion of the Whirlpool Stairs was replaced with more level and easier-to-traverse stone stairs. The bottom third of the stairs has not been replaced yet, though.

Be careful walking on these steps, as over the long years of use, many have crumbled under the pressure of tourism. Just take it slow, watch your step, and take a break if you need one. If you do take a break, please do so in one of the flat wide areas (aka switchbacks) so other people can pass.

As you near the bottom, you will pass several picnic areas with stone tables and benches. If you plan on having lunch down here, bring a pad to sit on, and remember to take all of your trash with you.

At the bottom of the stairs, there are two more tables, a clear view of the water, and an intersection with the Devil's Hole and Whirlpool Rapids Trails. Be sure to take the trail to Devil's Hole to the right to continue on with the short loop.

My shadow, my companion, along the trail in the bottom of the gorge | Source

The Great Gorge Railroad

Many of the trails in the gorge follow the route of the former Niagara Gorge Railroad. A trolley ran along the bottom of the gorge from Lewiston to Niagara Falls. Though occasionally, the remnants of the old route are visible, it's hard to believe that a train ran down here from 1895 to 1935. After a few tragedies on the rail line and a steady decline of business, the railroad finally closed in 1935 after a rockslide near the Whirlpool Rapids bridge decimated much of the route.

Even calm water is dangerous. | Source

There are many spots along the trail where it is fairly easy to access the water. This is a popular area along the river for dedicated fishermen to practice their art. However, please pay attention to the signs and do not enter the water.

It seems like every year, an unsuspecting person gets pulled into the powerful Niagara River. Even if the water looks calm, beware of strong undercurrents which will pull you into the rapids. So remember, when it comes to the water, you can look but don't touch!

At nearly two stories high, "Giant Rock" is a major landmark along this trail. | Source

Giant Rock

After hiking on the level and easy-to-follow trail about .3 miles past the stairs, you come to a gigantic stone jutting out of the ground.

This aptly named landmark is "Giant Rock" and is actually sticking into the earth and not popping out. During the eons of geological strife of the gorge, this two-story chunk of dolomite fell from the Lockport rock formation and buried itself in the earth. There is an interpretive sign nearby (one of the few) that tells about this interesting sight.

Icicles forming along the gorge walls | Source

Weather and Preparedness

As with any time you go hiking, you should be prepared for all eventualities—including severe weather—before leaving your car. Niagara Falls creates its own microclimate, so the weather changes rapidly and often.

Make sure you have the following:

Sturdy hiking shoes—sorry, no flip flops
Comfortable hiking clothing (preferably synthetic)
Additional layers for warmth
Rain gear
A cell phone for emergencies - yes, they do work in the gorge
Water
Snacks
First aid kit
Flashlight / Headlamp
Emergency whistle
Sun protection

Read about the Ten Outdoor Essentials you should carry on every hiking trip.

One of the many caves along the gorge route | Source

The interior of the cave drainage | Source

The Cave

After walking a total of 1.7 miles on this loop, you will come to a large opening in the bare rock cliffs to your right. This large cave and drainage are among the easiest of the gorge caves to access and walk into. Be careful, though, as in all caves, for loose rock and slippery conditions abound. Also, you shouldn't venture away from the entrance unless you are confident and prepared for a spelunking adventure.

Be advised that this cave isn't actually Devil's Hole Cave. That cave is located north of this section of trail.

The bottom of the Devil's Hole stairs | Source

The Devil's Hole stairs | Source

The Devil's Hole Stairs

After walking about 2.2 miles on this loop, you will come to the Devil's Hole Stairs that take you to the top of the gorge. In case you miss the stairs, somebody spray painted "STOP" on a tree, signaling the end of the official trail. Sure, Niagara Parks could have erected a nice sign, but orange spray paint is so much classier (sorry—one of my pet peeves).

It is .24 miles to the top of the stairs, which you'll notice are in better repair than the Whirlpool stairs. There are also several spots on this trail that are perfect for exploration and meditation. Walking up through Devil's Hole is a great experience, haunting even, especially when you ponder the history of the 1763 massacre and the legend of LaSalle. For me, it is like walking through Tolkien's Rivendell with an intertwining of stonework and nature in perfect harmony.

After reaching the top of the stairs, turn right on the Rim Trail and walk toward the Devil's Hole State Park parking area. Be sure to walk to the side of the cliffs and overlook the journey you just completed.

Looking toward Canada in the Niagara Gorge

The Best Knives for Backpacking

2026-02-24T08:34:00.000-08:00

The Best Backpacking Knife

Archaeology tells us that the knife was one of mankind's first tools. If anything, surely it came before that really cool infomercial saw that cuts cars in half. As someone who appreciates the fine lines of a good knife and as a backpacking adventurer, a good knife is always one of my primary concerns. I've gone through plenty of knives; I own hundreds and have carried dozens on my journeys. The belt sheath knives, the Swiss army knives, the folding tacticals, multi-tools, lightweight folders ... yes, I've tried them all.

Though the Ramboesque among us carry the largest knives on the market with 14-inch bowie-style blades more akin to swashbuckling than backpacking, remember you don't need the biggest knife on the planet. Generally, something with about a 3-inch blade is more than adequate for outdoor adventuring. Though most backpackers opt for folding knives, a small fixed-blade knife worn around the neck is excellent for the outdoors.

Choosing a backpacking knife | Source

Remember the basic backpacking knife tasks:

Cutting rope
Opening packages
Cooking
Slicing cheese and pepperoni
Spreading peanut butter
Carving tent stakes, spoons, etc (because you forgot them)
Making fuzz sticks for fire starting
Sharpening pencils at trail registers
Gear repair
Fending off bears
Limb amputation

A few single bladed folders for backpacking. | Source

Single Blade Folders

Single blade folders are extremely lightweight and useful around camp. If weight is your primary concern, a small single bladed folding knife like the Gerber LST is your lightest option. If you are looking for something a little larger but still lightweight, look at Spyderco's family of FRN handled knives from the Dragonfly to the Endura.

My everyday carry knife is a 93 mm Spyderco Rescue and generally what I keep in my pocket for a day hike. Though most backpackers like the security of a folding lock blade knife, be advised that in some localities and countries, the UK for example, locking knives are illegal. Of course, you should consult local laws before carrying any type of knife.

A few Swiss Army Knives from my collection, notice the thick Swiss Champ on the far right. | Source

Multi-tools

From the iconic Swiss army knife to the bone-crushing knife-pliers-toolbox combo, the multi-bladed tool is a backpacking staple. If you are looking for something that is primarily a knife, go with a Victorinox or Wenger Swiss Army knife. If you are looking for something that is primarily a tool, go with a multi-tool.

Many multi-tools on the market are built for the rigors of everyday industrial use, but in the backpacking world, lightweight simplicity is better. Remember that Aron Ralston used a dull multi-tool to amputate his arm, so you never know when or how you will need it.

When long-distance backpackers ask me what kind of knife they should carry - I always suggest a small multi-tool. As someone who experiences the rigors of living in the backcountry for weeks (or more), you are going to need more than just a blade can provide. Eventually, you will need to open a can, repair your stove, perform pack surgery, or find a beer without a twist top.

A fine assortment of backpacking knives from survival cards to multi-tools, and neck knives. | Source

This Tool Logic knife has a partially serrated blade, a whistle in the handle and a ferrocerium sparker. | Source

Multipurpose Backpacking Survival Knives

I know you are picturing the hollow-handled survival knives with ineffective compasses and dangerous sheaths that breech concertina wire. However, backpackers don't need such unwieldy things as our survival knives are smaller, lighter, and much more practical.

Many of the backpacking survival knives merge a cutting blade, a whistle, and maybe a firestarter or a flashlight. Though I wouldn't use the ferrocerium rods that come with these knives as your primary ignition source for making fire, it does make an excellent emergency backup that you carry at all times.

Perhaps the best feature is the emergency whistle found on these knives. Sure you can always yell for help, but for how long and how far does your voice carry anyway?

Size comparison of OKC Little Bird, Esee Izula and RAT RC-3 knives. | Source

Neck Knives

I discovered neck knives over fifteen years ago while at a French and Indian War reenactment in Oswego. I purchased a small hand forged patch knife that sat tightly in a rawhide sheath and came with a long lanyard to wear around the neck. As I camped and trekked in my traditional longhunter garb quite often then, I found how quickly the neck knife was to deploy. In fact I used the smaller knife much more often than the one in my sash.

Soon, I found that present day knife makers still made neck knives using modern materials. Besides superior steel, these knives differ from their antique counterparts in the sheath retention system. Modern neck knife sheaths are made of a hard molded plastic like Kydex, which holds the knife upside down until tugged. My first neck knife and one that I still carry, mainly because I bought three, was the Cold Steel Para Edge. I carried one of those knives on my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail and once it even saved my life. Today, I own an assortment of neck knives from Cold Steel, CRKT, Boker, and Esee.

Though the Cold Steel is a favorite when lightweight backpacking, when I feel I am doing something a little more rugged like search and rescue, I opt for my Esee Izula. The Izula is one tough little knife, I've actually split firewood before and then used it for some impromptu wood carving. It is nicely balanced for solid knife work, albeit it is heavier than most other models.

Using a drop leg platform allows the backpacker to carry a sheath knife lower on their thigh.

Sheath Knives for Backpacking

Though all neck knives are sheath knives, in this category we'll explore larger belt carried knives. Though there may be some environments where a large heavy-duty sheath knife is required, we'll talk about a few options that are viable for standard backpacking trips.

One problem you may have is how to carry a belt-mounted sheath knife while wearing your pack's hip belt. One option is just to toss it in your pack, but if you are in a situation where you need a knife you won't want to dig for it.

Another option for carrying a sheath knife on the outside of the pack is to use a military drop leg platform. These are inexpensive and can accommodate most knives. Or you can attach the knife to the shoulder strap of your backpack with ranger bands or pieces of bicycle inner tube.

The UST ParaKnife 4.0 by a waterfall on one of our hikes. | Source

Budget Sheath Knife Pick: UST ParaKnife

For the last couple of years, I've been carrying the ParaKnife 4.0 from Ultimate Survival Technologies on my hikes. It is lightweight enough to justify it in the pack yet robust enough to baton through wood. In an emergency, unravel the paracord-wrapped handle to unveil several feet of useful cordage. The edge is good enough for simple carving and the serrations rip through tough materials like heavy rope.

This knife is available by itself with a nylon sheath, though I carry the kit. The kit has a pouch with a mini survival kit. Included in the kit, is a fire starter, flashlight, whistle, mirror and compass. The mesh pouch on the back also holds a mylar space blanket. If you have that knife kit on your belt, you'll always have enough to make it through the night.

The Perfect Combination

Though many of us lightweight fanatics abhor duplicating our equipment, I will make an exception when it comes to knives. Maybe it is something that came from 18th century reenacting where everyone carries a half-dozen knives or maybe it comes from years of backcountry experience, but I usually carry two.

The primary knife I carry is a neck knife worn around my neck (duh) and is always handy. It is what I use for cooking, cutting, and occasionally cutting myself loose from a sled. As a secondary knife, I carry a small multi-tool like the 1.8 oz. Leatherman Style PS with small pliers. The pliers serve as a great pot grabber, plus there are still fold out scissors for trimming moleskin. I found that this is a great combination and provides a backup tool in case of extreme emergencies. Remember that the knife is one of the 10 Outdoor Essentials for every foray into the outdoors.

A knife is an integral part of Outbound Dan's Critical Four, along with whistle, fire starter, and compass

The Most Dangerous Way to Cook Spam

2026-02-24T08:32:00.000-08:00

Canned foods can be dangerous if cooked wrong. Read on to learn more.

Cook Time

Cook time: 10 min

Ready in: 10 min

Yields: 1 can may be scrounged to feed one hungry person

Ingredients

12-ounce can of SPAM

Caution: Contents Under Pressure

You can't go wrong with SPAM; it is consistently delicious, lasts for years, and cooks up easily. I bet you never knew that cooking SPAM can be dangerous. Though this article is published under the guise of a recipe, it is more of a cautionary tale than a practical method for preparing this delectable meat.

It all started when I was a 12-year-old Boy Scout on a Troop campout.

Granted, my Troop was a little different than those depicted in Norman Rockwell prints. During the day, we donned camouflage and played Capture the Flag with tactics that special operations teams would be proud of. At night, we retreated into our tents and played Dungeons & Dragons or some other role-playing game, often until we were too tired to go on. The thing is, we always had fun and were generally safe.

Then, however—I tried cooking.

Our Scoutmasters didn't cook our meals, and our mothers didn't pack our lunches. We were on our own in exploring self-reliance. Usually we cooked as a patrol, but this time we were individually cooking for this camp's duration.

I have never been exceptionally gifted with culinary greatness. Most of my cooked meals consisted of cup-of-soups or Spaghetti-Os. Even as an adult, I managed to bake my toaster at 350 degrees inside my oven.

This time, though, I was determined to cook one of my favorite things—fried SPAM. I had planned to fry it up over the campfire with the skillet from my mess kit. I should have stuck to my plan.

Who knows what danger lurks inside this can of SPAM? | Source

Where Things Went Wrong

Earlier that day, in between our tactical forays, we were discussing our meals. I was already dreaming of eating a whole can of crisp SPAM. Then someone told me, an older Scout, that I could keep my pan from getting dirty, by cooking the meat while it was still in the can. All I had to do was place it in the fire. Well, at least that was what I heard.

I don't remember whether he told me exactly how to cook the SPAM or not. Most likely it was an adolescent's propensity toward fits of selective attention. As I crawled through the bushes, I knew one thing was certain—when I got back to camp, I was going to lob my can of SPAM into the fire to let it cook.

For those of you familiar with thermodynamics, you probably know where this is going.

The autumn sun was barely over the treeline when we arrived back in camp to start our meal preparation. The fire we started at noon had died down to a hot bed of coals—it was perfect for cooking. The other boys in my patrol of six were cooking everything from foil dinners to ramen noodles.

As everyone was mucking about preparing their supper, I dug my can of SPAM out of my food bag, walked over to the fire, and buried it in the searing coals. Then I walked away to mess about with my gear in the nearby tent. I would check on it in a few minutes.

A few other Scouts had taken up residence around the campfire, both cooking and staring into the mesmerizing spell of dancing flames. It had been a great day, full of play. It was just cool enough to ward off the sweat, though no chill was in the air. After about 10 minutes, I started returning to the fire ring, when ... boom!

A typical campout with my Troop back when I was a Scout. I'm the one peering around to the far left. Yes, I know I am wearing tiger stripe pants with Nike sneakers—an early fashion faux pas. | Source

After the Explosion

The three other Scouts sitting by the fire and I ducked as if under an artillery attack. Did somebody bring fireworks to the campout? Our Scoutmaster was going to be furious.

We looked around, surveying the area and checking ourselves for gaping holes. Then we saw that blue and yellow can. My SPAM had blown up, sending its can flying 15 feet out of the fire ring past the heads of those sitting there. Little pieces of SPAM shrapnel dotted the campsite. My technique had gone totally wrong.

The other Scouts glared at me with contempt like I had just tortured a kitten. I picked up the can with the gaping hole blown through its side and stared down at it, wondering what I had done wrong. One of the older Scouts asked me, "Did you open up that can before throwing it in the fire?"

I looked back down at the can, then at my supper that was scattered in bits and pieces. About that time, our Scoutmaster emerged from the bushes looking for the culprit that brought firecrackers with them. I turned and showed him my can, and he began to laugh.

Everyone had a pretty good laugh at my expense that night, and luckily other Scouts shared their supper with me so I wouldn't go hungry. The chuckles about Dan and his SPAM still creep up in conversations twenty years after the incident.

One thing is for certain—no other Scout in the Troop ever threw a sealed can into a fire again.

Safety Considerations

Cooking SPAM, or any canned meat product this way, is dangerous and not recommended. The provided information is intended for educational and entertainment purposes only. Caution: Humor may be a by-product of this teachable moment.

How Not to Cook SPAM!

Build a roaring campfire.
Let the fire burn down to a hot bed of coals.
Insert unopened can of SPAM into bed of hot coals—please see safety considerations.
Find cover and wait for loud bang.
Gather bits of SPAM from fire and surrounding area.
If still hungry, begin begging for food from other campers.

4.2 stars from 13 ratings of Dangerous SPAM Cooking

A single serving of SPAM is a great treat on a backpacking trip. | Source

A Safer Way to Cook SPAM

After that day, many years ago, I never attempted to cook anything in the can again. However, I've been assured by many people that venting the can will avoid any sort of explosive pressure build-up.

Despite nearly killing my campmates, I still do eat SPAM when I am both indoors or out. Now, however, I dump the meat product out of the container first and then fry it up on a skillet. It only takes about five minutes on a medium heat to bring a slice of SPAM to a crispy golden brown.

Over the years, the design of the SPAM can has changed, too—from rolling back a strip of metal with the attached key to the current pull tab.

Most recently, single servings of SPAM in foil packages have flooded supermarket shelves. These 3-ounce, 250-calorie packages are great for canoeists and backpackers when size and weight are an issue. The nice thing about packing SPAM is that you can eat it cold (if you want to). Adaptable meals are great when you run out of fuel or your stove malfunctions. Luckily, I've never managed to blow up a stove.

For now, it is lunchtime and time for a SPAM sandwich.

The preferred method of cooking SPAM without any loud bangs

How to Clean Stinky Sandals

2026-02-24T08:30:00.000-08:00

Time to Clean Your Smelly Sandals

Generally, most sandals can be given a quick rise under the hose, and some, like Keens, can be tossed into a washing machine. However, sometimes a great funk arises to offend the olfactory senses.

The thing is, if your sandals stink, there is most likely bacteria growing in the footbeds and straps. These stinky little buggers eat away and weaken the material over time. So not only do your sandals clear campsites, but they are breaking down with every smell-filled day.

This article demonstrates how to clean funky sandals in just six easy steps in about five minutes. You'll save money, water and electricity with this method as opposed to letting them romp around in your washing machine for half an hour.

How to clean your stinky sandals quickly and easily. | Source

When to Clean Your Smelly Sandals

You should clean your sandals when any of the following occurs:

Your spouse makes you keep them outside.
The local gas station made an addendum to their "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service" sign: "No Smelly Sandals"—and it has your picture next to it.
While going for walks at the beach, friends encourage you to stay downwind.
A skunk has initiated a mating ritual when your sandals get within smelling radius.
The EPA has sent hazard workers over to your home to investigate a strange odor.
You walk into a shoe store, and the salespeople don protective clothing.

Abused and neglected Keen Newports | Source

Test Subject: Mildewed and Stinky Keen Newports

My Keen Newports have been a great companion on trails and around town; however, they started to get the funk. No, they didn't start listening to Wild Cherry - they just stunk. Then I did the unmentionable and something that a gear guru knows better than to do. I stored them wet!

I came home from a bit of creek-walking, threw my wet Newports into a bag, and tossed them into gear purgatory in the basement. When I remembered where my favorite sandals were, I was in for a big surprise.

Not only did they have the pungent aroma of foot funk, but little colonies of mildew dotted the blue webbed shoes. I had to act quickly and decisively to rescue my Keens.

Brush all the loose dirt off your sandals outside before starting to wash them. | Source

1. Remove the Loose Stuff

The first step to any footwear cleaning ritual is to go outside and remove the loose dirt and grime with a stiff, bristled brush. Doing this outside will reduce the amount of mud you have to strain out of your sink later on.

At this point, it is a good idea to thoroughly scrub the tread too. You never know, the smell emanating from your sandals may be the residual remains of excrement from your neighbor's dog.

Before adding soap, thoroughly wet the sandal and scrub away loose dirt. | Source

2. Wet and Scrub

The second step to cleaning your funky sandals is to wash them under a warm water faucet and continue to scrub any wayward particles down the drain.

You may find it a good idea to have two brushes for your cleaning needs: a wet brush and a dry brush. Using the two-brush system keeps things a little tidier, especially if you are using the kitchen sink.

Apply Nikwax Sandal Wash | Source

3. Apply Soap Like Nikwax Sandal Wash

After removing the visible grime, it is time to soap up your sandals and allow the defunkification to begin. If you are cleaning a closed-toe sandal, use special care to get inside the webbing by the forefoot. If I was bacteriathis is where I would hide.

The easiest-to-use and best-performing soap I've used is Nikwax Sandal Wash. It removes the stink and leaves shoes looking and smelling great.

If you are using Nikwax, remember to shake the container before opening it. (Just imagine you are giving a soda to that cousin you never really liked.) Also, be sure to press down on the applicator sponge to break the seal—you should hear a slight "click."

Lather the soap on the footbed and webbing. | Source

Scrub the exterior, interior and footbed with a brush. | Source

4. Scrub Again

If you are in cleansing combat with a stubbornly dirty sandal, it is time to scrub the shoe again. For some cases of foot funk, the soap sponge applicator is never enough.

Use a stiff, bristled brush to scrub away the grime. If your footwear is leather, avoid the harder brushes and opt for something like a nail brush to scrub away the stink.

Rinse away the soap with clean water. | Source

5. Rinse

After your sandals have been sufficiently lathered, rinse them with clean water. Again, with closed-toe sandals, ensure that the soap has vacated the toe box.

At this point, go ahead and take a whiff—your sandals should be smelling pretty dang good by now.

Before and After: The dirty sandal is to the left (with excess dirt removed) the clean Keen is to the right. | Source

6. Dry

Now that your footwear is clean, it is time to dry them. Before drying sandals in an oven like Mr. Bean dries his underwear, please read ahead. It is best to complete the cycle away from a direct heat source.

Direct heat sources include:

Dryers
Ovens
Furnaces
Campfires
Usain Bolt's Feet
Red Dragons

What works best for this author is throwing them on the back step out of direct sunlight. There is plenty of air circulation, and they'll dry in a few hours.

Thumbs up for Nikwax Sandal Wash. | Source

Benefits of Nikwax Sandal Wash

As someone who has rescued smelly sandals from the brink of exile, I trust Nikwax's Sandal Wash to clean my funky sandals. For something so inexpensive, it works surprisingly well. Plus, a bottle will treat a small sandal collection to sweet smelling bliss.

The first reason I like it, is that it works on a variety of materials (leather, fabric and synthetic) so you don't need multiple cleaners for one job.

The second reason I like this, is that Nikwax is an environmentally friendly company. Their environmental policy is as follows:

"No propellant gases, non toxic, environmentally safe. Not tested on animals. Does not contain fluorocarbons"

The third reason this cleaner is fantastic, and perhaps the most important, is that it works. I haven't met a sandal yet that it hasn't defunkified.

Ten Hacks for a Lighter Backpack

2026-02-24T08:27:00.000-08:00

Backpacking ... Lighter

You can easily shave several pounds off your backpack without sacrificing comfort or safety. You don't have to spend a lot of money investing in titanium zippers or DCF underwear, either, as most of these techniques are free. I also promise not to mention cutting the handle off your toothbrush (even though you can save .4 ounces by shortening it a few inches).

Tips to reduce pack weight | Source

1. Ditch the Pillow

Average Weight Savings: 6 ounces

Ditch my pillow? But what will I lay my little head upon after a hard day of hiking? First of all, don't be such a wimp. You are out to "rough it," right? Second, use something you already carry (preferably not your ice crampons) for a pillow.

Use Your Stuff Sack Instead

For years, even when car camping, I've used the stuff sack I carry my sleeping bag in. Simply stuff the bag with your extra clothes and—ta-da!—an instant pillow. If you don't have any extra clothes, turn the stuff sack inside out and stuff it with pine duff or leaves. For a bit more comfort, wrap your neck gaiter around the stuff sack so it is comfy against your face.

You can still have a peaceful night sleeping without a pillow. | Source

2. Cut Down the First Aid Kit

Average Weight Savings: 1 pound

When I hiked the Appalachian Trail, do you know what my first aid kit was? It consisted of a tiny roll of duct tape, Neosporin, toilet paper, and ibuprofen. With that, I learned I could take care of most cuts, scrapes, blisters, and assorted ouches.

I love the organization of packaged first aid kits and use them for search and rescue and Scouting but not when out on a personal trip. Do you really think you are going to use 15 Band-Aids on a weekend trip? Let's get that down to one or two and have the ability to improvise if the need arises.

Big first aid kits are great but can be cut down to a few essentials. | Source

3. Carry Fewer Tent Stakes

Average Weight Savings: 5 ounces

When you buy a tent, they usually come with enough stakes to stake down a circus tent in the midst of an Oklahoma tornado. The thing is, you generally don't need nearly that many stakes. Carrying fewer also means that there are fewer to keep track of (and potentially lose).

I carry enough stakes for my tent or tarp corners but plan on using sticks, roots, or rocks to anchor out my fly. Another option is to purchase lighter-weight stakes. Those nail peg stakes you can drive through a rock are over two ounces each but a lightweight stake like MSR's Groundhog weigh in at only 0.35 ounces each. The y-cross section design boosts durability while cutting weight in half.

Lightweight tent stakes are great but you probably don't need as many. | Source

4. Limit Backpacking Electronics

Average Weight Savings: 1.3 pounds

From headlamps to GPS units, the modern backpacker has a slew of electronics to keep running. Just imagine the calamity if one was out in the wilderness and all of a sudden all of your electronics stopped working. It would be … peaceful.

Anyway, before delving even further into the gadget's place in the outdoors, you should consider carrying fewer in the first place. If you have a phone, camera, kindle, GPS, satellite messenger, weather radio, and solar panel, you probably have too much.

One device can do many things. Personally, I've got it down to my cell phone and satellite messenger/GPS. (Or if you really want to get down to basics, here's how to navigate without a GPS or compass.)

Backpacking electronics are handy but heavy. | Source

5. Eliminate Stuff Sacks

Average Weight Savings: 10 ounces

Gear snobs like their gear. We like to study, buy, play with, and accessorize our camping purchases and then brag about it on social media. Heck most of us keep our stuff sacks inside of stuff sacks. However, that visually appealing organization system may be weighing you down a bit. I'd argue too that it makes things harder to pack. Having everything in a separate sack is like trying to jam 15 bowling balls into a mailbox.

For the last decade, I've used garbage compactor bags as pack liners. They are waterproof, cheap, and everything fits nicely into one. When they get worn out, I recycle them. I still store food in a separate bear bag, however, to keep the shared odors down.

Leave a few stuff sacks at home for weight savings. | Source

6. Carry a Tarp Instead of a Tent

Average Weight Savings: 3 pounds

In blackfly season, you'll want a tent to keep the nasty bloodsuckers at bay but most times of the year, you can use a tarp for shelter. Tarps are much lighter, less expensive, and easier to set up in the rain.

In the quest for the lightest pack possible, I've carried minuscule tarps as small as 3'x6'. They work in fair weather but you'll get wet in anything heavier than a dew. My go-to is a 5'x7' silnylon tarp, but if the weather is threatening, I'll carry my 8'x10' monster.

Pairing a tarp up with a bivy sack is a great backpacking shelter. | Source

7. Carry Less Water

Average Weight Savings: 2 pounds

Along the Appalachian Trail, I found out I was carrying way too much weight in water in my three bottles. I quickly ditched one bottle and only consistently filled up one unless hitting a dry section.

So before heading down the Grand Canyon with a flask of Gatorade, take care to plan where your water sources are and how to purify it. If you have a quick mechanical filter, you can easily clean the pathogens out of the water on the trail and refill as your bottle depletes.

Just make sure you are carrying enough water as dehydration is common among perspiring hikers.

Plan on purifying water you find on the trail to avoid carrying too much water. | Source

8. Wear More Gear

Average Weight Savings: 1 pound

One trick to a lighter pack is to carry it elsewhere. Before you wrap the fuel line from your Whisperlite stove around your belt, I have a few better ideas. I generally carry many of my essentials and survival gear on me and not in my pack. This way, if I lose my pack in a water crossing or in some sort of weird trail mugging, I'll still have some gear to make it through the night.

I carry a knife, like my CRKT Minimalist or ESEE Izula, in a Kydex sheath around my neck. It keeps the knife handy for opening packages or trail muggings. The cord is handy for carrying your signal whistle too.

For navigation, a backup wrist compass is worn and my main compass is usually inside my shirt pocket. For lighting, I've found that the best place to carry a headlamp is in your cargo pocket as it gets dark quickly. Lastly, I always have in my pockets at least one way to make fire. (I tried carrying hot coals, but it was uncomfortable.)

Wearing a neck knife eliminates the need to carry a blade in your backpack. | Source

9. Carry Less Food Packaging

Average Weight Savings: 1 pound

This may blow your mind, but the average backpacker is carrying several pounds of garbage into the backcountry. That is stuff we don't use and is just more to lose in the environment along the way.

I start with repacking snacks like gorp and granola bars into one reusable silicone baggie. Then coffee and other beverage mixes are transferred and combined into tiny medicine pouches. Lastly, dehydrated meals can be cooked inside much lighter freezer bags or even cold-soaked in a container.

Repackaged backpacking food | Source

10. Split Gear With a Buddy

Average Weight Savings: 5 pounds

Though I've been an advocate of solo backpacking, the advantage of going with a group is that you can have a lighter pack. Yes, the tent is larger and therefore heavier but you can easily split things up. One person carries the tent body, one the poles and stakes, and one the fly.

Also, in a group you can share emergency supplies and cooking gear. There is no need for everyone to have their own stove but you'll probably need to tote an extra fuel canister.

The trail can be more fun with friends and your pack may be lighter.

How to Wash and Waterproof a Softshell Jacket

2026-02-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

How to Wash and Waterproof a Softshell Jacket

Dan Human shares what he has learned from several thousand miles of backpacking, hiking and paddling.

Three softshell jackets from Arc'Teryx, The North Face, and Marmot getting ready for a Nikwax cleaning and waterproofing treatment. | Source

Restore Breathability and Performance by Washing your Jacket

When camping mates begin to wrinkle their noses as you walk by, you know it is time to wash your favorite softshell jacket. Sure, that grime tells the story of your adventures, but did you know that, like hardshells, softshells work best when they are clean? But if you use any old detergent off the shelf, you are likely to ruin the breathability and water repellency of the garment.

It doesn't matter how many hundreds of dollars you spend on a softshell; if you don't care for it properly, your technical garment will make an excellent seat cover for your car.

This article provides general guidelines to clean and restore a waterproof finish to your softshell jacket.

Expert Tip

Clean softshell garments regularly to restore breathability and maintain water repellency.

How to Clean a Softshell

Though softshells can easily be hand-washed, throwing them in the washing machine won't hurt them as long as you follow the care instructions. People ask when a softshell should be washed, and unfortunately, there is no good answer. Generally, I'll wash my shells in the washing machine after every long trip; my jackets go on several day hikes and local jaunts before venturing into the laundry basket.

General Softshell Machine Washing Instructions

Empty out all pockets—you would be surprised how many batteries and candy wrappers are in there.
Close all hook and loop (AKA velcro) fasteners and pockets.
Set washing machine to normal cycle (usually) and use warm water.
Add a sport-wash detergent - SEE MORE ON THIS BELOW
Allow machine to cycle through and completely rinse
Remove the garment from washing machine and dry on low in dryer until the jacket is dry to the touch. Often drying the garment will restore the DWR (durable water-repellent finish)

Technical Detergents

When washing softshells or any kind of technical apparel, it is critical to use the correct laundry detergent. My favorite product for cleaning softshells and all technical apparel is Nikwax Techwash. Techwash is very easy to use. Just add two to three cap fulls of detergent to the washing machine. Often after washing a raincoat with Techwash and throwing it in the dryer, the water repellency, as well as the breathability, will be restored.

If you can't find a detergent specifically used for waterproof breathable garments, try an organic type of detergent. Make sure it states on the package that it doesn't leave any residue and completely rinses.

Nikwax Tech Wash,10 fl. oz., Nikwax Tech Wash Technical Cleaner for Jackets and Outerwear, Restores Waterproofing in Rain, Ski, and Snow Gear, Safe for Gore-Tex and DWR

Buy Now

Helpful Hint

Front-load washers are easier on clothing and gear because of less agitation. If you don't have a friend with a front load washer, take your technical apparel to a laundromat and use theirs.

Waterproofing softshell jackets with Nikwax Softshell Proof . | Source

Waterproof the Softshell

So, you've properly cleaned your softshell and dried it on low, and it still isn't as waterproof as it use to be. It looks as if the DWR has worn off. Most DWRs, especially on softshells, are hydrophobic fabric treatments that resist fabric saturation, and they do wear off over time. Whenever your softshell begins to wet out, it is time for a treatment.

To retreat your garment's DWR and restore that weather-resistant finish, you have two options: either wash in or spray on.

First, before using any sort of waterproofing agent, ensure that the garment has been cleaned properly with some sort of tech detergent.

Again, though many companies like McNett / Revivex and Grangers produce softshell treatments, Nikwax Softshell Proof is easy to use and very effective.

Directions for a wash-in application using Nikwax Softshell Proof

Place garments in washing machine and fill with warm water
Add entire 10 oz. bottle of Nikwax Softshell Proof
Run machine to warm, heavy, and low water level
Air dry or tumble dry on low

Directions for a spray-on application using Nikwax spray-on Softshell Proof

Hang clean garment, preferably outside
Hold bottle about 6 inches from the fabric and spray evenly
Wait two minutes and remove any excess drips
Hang to let dry

I use a combination of wash-in and spray-on applications for my technical garments. I usually re-proof them once a year or so with a wash-in. However, if I start to detect leakage at seams or along the shoulder area (where I usually get wetness), I will spray the affected area.

Have a Hard Shell?

If you have a hard-shell rain jacket check out my other guide at How to Wash and Waterproof a Rain Jacket: Restoring the DWR.

How to Clean Marmot, North Face and Arc'Teryx Jackets

Of the softshells I use, few differ in their laundering and care instructions. Below, I have listed verbatim the care instructions for each of these softshell garments.

Arc'Teryx Venta SV Jacket

Machine wash in warm water or dry clean
Do not use fabric softener
Tumble dry on low heat
Do not iron

Marmot Sharpoint Jacket

Close all fasteners
Machine wash warm
Powdered detergent
No fabric softeners
Do not iron, bleach, or dry clean
Tumble dry low.

EMS ENDO Jacket

Machine wash warm
Tumble dry low
Do not bleach
Do not use fabric softeners
Do not dry clean
Cool iron if needed

The North Face Summit Series Windstopper Jacket

Do not dry clean
Hand or machine wash separately on delicate cycle in warm water
Use mild detergent
Rinse well
Do not bleach
Tumble dry at low heat
Secure all hook and loop closures

Marmot Approach Vest

Machine wash warm
Wash with like colors
Powdered detergent no fabric softeners
Do not iron, bleach, or dry clean
Tumble dry low
Close all fasteners

An Appalachian Trail Thru Hike in Pictures

2026-02-24T08:22:00.000-08:00

"Southern Comfort" overlooks the North Carolina Mountains in fall. | Source

My Appalachian Trail Journey

The Appalachian Trail stretches over 2,170 miles from Mount Katahdin in Maine to Springer Mountain in Georgia. In 1998, I had the chance to undertake this journey, and it still affects me to this day. I started June 1st of that year in Maine and walked south along the AT until I reached the peak of Springer on October 23rd. In those four and a half months of backpacking, I perfected my style, eliminated distractions, and found an unmatched peace in my soul.

Though, thanks to thieves, the diamond shaped metal AT signs are rare, the trail is marked with white 2x6 - inch blazes along the way. I only lost the trail a few times during my journey. | Source

In this article, you'll see pictures I took during my sojourn. I mailed the completed film rolls home (yes, it was before digital); I only regret that I didn't take more pictures than the seven rolls I used. As a solo backpacker, I have gotten quite handy with the timer on my camera and the use of a mini-tripod. Therefore, when you see the pictures with me as the subject, I painstakingly arranged the camera to try to capture the moment. I will update this page as I continue to scan in pictures from this trip.

The 5,268' Mt Katahdin in Baxter State Park, Maine is the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail and an imposing mountain. | Source

Here I am, Appalachian Trail day #1 on top of Katahdin. | Source

Quick AT Facts

A continuous footpath stretching about 2,160 miles from Maine to Georgia.
The highest elevation is 6,625 feet.
3 to 4 million people walk some portion each year.
Travels through 14 states.
First national scenic trail (1968).

A moose forages in a Maine pond - one of many moose I saw on this trip. | Source

A Close Moose Encounter

I was a few days in on my hike in Maine's 100-Mile Wilderness, staying in a lean-to overlooking a picturesque pond. I hadn't seen anyone in a couple of days and had yet to camp with anybody. In fact, I wouldn't camp with anyone until venturing South of Monson. Though Southbound thru-hikes offer peace away from the crowds and time to contemplate in solitude, at times being a lone traveler can be eerie.

Though your senses are heightened during the first few days of a wilderness trip, after that your mind becomes accustomed to the crashes and sounds of the night. However, the noise I heard this morning was one I wasn't going to sleep through.

It was in the pre-dawn hours when sunlight strives to weave its strands through mountain passes, allowing just enough light to illuminate the shadows of the woods. I was sleeping, nestled in my REI bag from a cool Maine June morning.

Then I was shaken awake! The entire lean-to was rattling; it felt like a bear had hopped into the shelter with me. I pushed my arms through the opening near my head and reached over for the hiking pole by me. Sitting up quickly, pole in hand, I was ready to fight off whatever had disturbed my slumber.

But nothing was in the shelter, save the mice that hid under the floorboards. Instead, only feet from me a cow moose and her calf ran through my campsite and into the pond below. My heart pounded wildly never having been that close to a moose before.

Of course what really made me think, as I smiled at the experience, was I almost set my tent up where the moose ran the night before to offer some solace from the black flies. I was glad I was too tired to set up the tent and passed out in the lean-to. My exhaustion may have saved me a good moose trampling.

Anyway, after experiencing something like that, you can't go back to bed. You have no choice, but to start hiking early.

This sign greets hikers at the southbound entrance to Maine's famous 100-mile Wilderness. I experienced fantastic solitude in this section, only meeting one other hiker. I was able to do the section in five-days. | Source

The Carrabasset River crossing nearly drowned me, the bridge had been taken out by the ice earlier in the spring. I ended up bushwhacking several miles to get across this awesome river. | Source

Due to several drownings on the Kennebec River, this ferry service is now provided for hikers. | Source

As a Southbounder you should be prepared for solitude, I spent many nights alone in lean-tos or in my own camp. | Source

On Camping

One of the most common questions I hear, is "Where do you sleep?" When I started, I had a one-person Walrus Swift tent that I carried (mostly to provide solace from the Maine black flies). However, I found myself squeezing into lean-tos most of the time. A lean-to is, generally, a three-sided structure but some of them are mountain cabins; there is a lean-to about every eight-to-ten miles along the trail.

When I started reducing the weight of my pack, I sent my tent home and bought a nylon poncho at an outfitter along the trail. On the occasion I couldn't squeeze into a lean-to, I'd stretch up my poncho with some parachute cord and shelter myself from the sometimes fierce mountain storms. I'd also find "natural" shelters: under picnic tables in town parks, under bridges, and once in a large culvert pipe.

There is always room for one more in an AT lean-to. This stormy night in Maine found ten bottlenecked Southbounders in a six person lean-to. It's okay as long as you sleep head to toe and ignore the smell. | Source

A full pack in the White Mountains. | Source

What is a Thru-Hiker?

A person that walks the entire trail in one continuous journey –versus a 2000 miler that hikes the entire trail over a few seasons.
It takes about 5 million steps to complete the journey.
The first thru-hiker was Earl Shaffer in 1948 – (1965 and 1998 too).
You can walk in either direction (Me>Ga) (Ga>Me).

Heat rash is a problem for many thru-hikers pushing out twenty-mile days under the hot sun. I made this kilt out of polyester microfiber that I bought in a craft store in Massachusetts. It took me about a week to sew in the pleats. | Source

Wear a Kilt to Protect Yourself from Heat Rash while Hiking

Anyone that has ever walked 20 miles a day for a few months, or heck even a few days, can understand the anguish of heat rash. Each morning I lathered up my legs with diaper rash ointment, but still, that rash took some of the joy out of hiking.

Many of my fellow thru-hikers were wearing sundresses, in fact I contemplated buying one myself. I flipped through the racks in a thrift store trying to figure out what size I was. The lady behind the counter glared at me with pity, curiosity, and displeasure.

I left that store with the intention of making my own kilt; I had done so for reenacting a couple of years prior. I was overjoyed when I found polyester microfiber in Stewart plaid - it made the perfect hiking kilt. The good news was - I didn't have to worry about heat rash again - the kilt cured me.

Of course, there was that one time I did a somersault in my kilt near a scenic outlook. I'm sorry if anyone bore witness to that incident.

Thru-Hiker Statistics

The average hike is 6 months.
10-15% of perspective hikers succeed
It will cost on average of about $3,500.00 plus gear
15% of hikers quit in the first week
In 2001, 2375 people started from Springer 397 completed
In 2001, 275 people started from Katahdin, 57 completed
About 8,000 people are 2000-milers
Women make up 25% of all completions.

One of many bog bridges guides your way through sensitive areas. | Source

What, you mean you can take a train to the AT? | Source

Hostels, like this one in Delaware Water Gap, offer a place to shower and do laundry while resupplying in town. | Source

After years of zinc smelting, the Lehigh Ridge in Pennsylvania is now dead - a sobering reminder of man's destructive power over the wilderness. | Source

Here is "Crawdad" at Pine Grove Park in Pennsylvania undertaking the half-gallon challenge. I ate a half-gallon of moose tracks for my challenge. | Source

On Food

Another question that thru-hikers are often asked is, "what do you eat?"

Though many people conjure images of eating nuts and berries as we hike merrily through the woods for six months, it would be difficult to consume the massive amount of calories that a thru-hiker requires. Sometimes though, it is fun to play along with people's perceptions of our pastoral playtime.

There are generally two methods of food resupply that long-distance hikers use on the Appalachian Trail: Mail drops and Grocery Stores.

Hikers relying on mail drops have pre-packaged food mailed to them at post offices along the trail. Yes, trail town post offices are well -accustomed to holding packages for hikers. The advantage of this system is that you are guaranteed nutritious food and generally at a reduced cost. The downfall being the boredom you may find eating the same sort of food day after day. Hiker boxes in towns are always full of oatmeal and energy bars. Another downfall to mail drops is arriving in town when the post office is open, you may have to wait a couple days in town if there are no Saturday hours.

Relying on grocery stores is a little more of an adventure and the method upon which I relied for sustenance. Of course the term "grocery store" is used very loosely. Sometimes your resupply point is little more than a gas station. Most places have ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese, but sometimes you walk out of town with pork rinds and snicker bars.

Of course it is every hiker's duty to take advantage of restaurants, diners, ice scream stands, outdoor barbeques and whatever else they can find. It isn't off to "eat out" four or five times in an overnight town stay. Of course those places which are ALL YOU CAN EAT are perennial hiker favorites. Don't worry about not knowing where these places are, for all conversations amongst thru-hikers revolve around food.

The historic armory at Harper's Ferry; the ATC headquarters is just down the street. | Source

One of my best lunch sites along the trail in Virginia. | Source

The Hungry Tree | Source

Walking into the sunrise over Tinker Ridge, Virginia. | Source

A fine AT footbridge, thanks to the thousands of dedicated volunteers. | Source

A butterfly rests on thistle in Shenandoah National Park. | Source

Sunrise behind a simple cross someone erected on a Virginia mountain top. | Source

The Grayson Highlands State Park in Virginia is a welcome escape from the "green tunnel." | Source

The "wild" ponies of Grayson Highlands State Park. | Source

One of many bears I saw along the trail, this one is in the Tennessee woods. | Source

"Southern Comfort" overlooks the North Carolina Mountains in Fall. | Source

A bittersweet end to a fantastic journey on Springer Mountain, Georgia. | Source

ESEE Izula Review as a Neck Knife for Survival and Backpacking

2026-02-24T08:20:00.000-08:00

Review: Esee Izula Neck Knife for Survival and Backpacking

Izula with survival shelter in background. | Source

Field-Testing the Esee Izula Neck Knife

The compact and lightweight Esee Izula neck knife is a tough outdoor tool for survival, backpacking, and hiking. Even though many of my fellow outdoor enthusiasts glare at the blade hanging down around my neck with apprehension, for me, there is nothing handier than having something where you can reach it. Those of you familiar with the time I had to cut a dangling sled loose while snowshoeing realize why I love neck knives.

The Izula is a short-bladed, two-ounce knife that features an injection molded sheath, which is perfect for carrying around your neck. Using the optional MOLLE clip, this knife can be attached to tactical gear or even clipped on a belt for low-profile carry.

The Esee Izula is a compact neck knife perfect for backpacking and survival. | Source

So What Does "Izula" Mean Anyway?

According to the guys at Esee, Izula comes from Isula a local Peruvian word for what most of us call Bullet Ants. These tenacious insects come equipped with a poisonous bite, so watch out!

I remember rutting through the Panamanian jungle myself and becoming rather acquainted with these crafty little critters. It hurt like hell when they stung you and tasted terrible when you tried to eat them. Cutter Ants on the other hand—are delicious.

So let's see if this tough blade warrants the moniker of the most ferocious ant in the jungle.

Here, I used the Izula to make a figure-4 deadfall trap trigger. | Source

Neck Knife Safety

With all knives there are safety considerations, but neck knives have additional concerns.

Don't strangle yourself. Tie your knife so it easily slips over your head. Even better, think of using a ball chain or a partial chain so the neck cord will break in case you get tangled.
Don't stab yourself. Though people that stab themselves shouldn't be allowed to use knives, it may be a little easier with a neck knife. Remember, guide the blade back into its sheath.
Tuck the knife under your shirt while conducting patient assessment or anytime you are leaning over someone. As a SAR team member, I found out that people don't like to have your knife handle banging them in their face while you are trying to put them in a cervical collar.

The ESEE Izula in the snow with green paracord wrap. | Source

Maintain Your Knife!

Esee uses 1095 carbon steel—it holds an edge and takes a beating. However, your knife can rust if you don't take care of it. Coat the blade with a rust inhibitor every so often and make sure it is dry between uses.

Knife Specifications and Features

Manufacturer: Esee (Randall's Adventure and Training)
Model: Izula
Overall Length: 6 1/4"
Blade Length: 2 3/4"
Weight: 2 oz - knife only
Sheath: Injection Molded - like Kydex
Steel: 1095 -57 Rc.
Handle: Skeletonized, optional micarta handles are available.
Lifetime Warranty
Made in USA

I attached a Jetscream whistle to the sheath so I could still blow it. Remember, a whistle blast carries much farther that your voice will; blow three times if you need help. | Source

Wrapping the Handle with Paracord

The skeletonized handles are superbly functional; however, they can be a bit uncomfortable after carving for a while. Though you have the option of adding micarta handles, those slabs aren't as handy as a cord-wrapped grip in a survival situation.

I wrapped the handles easily with four feet of parachute 550 cord in about five minutes using a simple weave. The trick to wrapping any knife with parachute cord, is to be able to untie it quickly so you can use it for survival purposes.

But you'd never actually unwrap it right?

That is what I thought until I needed cord to set up a tarp during an emergency bivy in the Adirondacks. I was glad I used real paracord with multiple strands inside. By stripping out the "guts" of the nylon, I was able to increase the length of my rope by five times.

Some Izula users hide fishing line, ferrocerium (sparking rods), and other wilderness survival supplies inside the handle as they wrap the cord.

Attach your whistle to the knife sheath easily with a little bit of duct tape. | Source

A Great Backpacking Knife

You can't beat a neck knife for backpacking. Carrying a knife in your pocket on a twenty-mile day is a recipe for chaffing. Of course, while scrambling over rocks and crossing rivers, you are apt to lose that trusty pocket knife. While winter backpacking, I've found that most Gore-tex pants don't have any pockets at all.

Over the years, I've used a variety of neck knives from Cold Steel and Boker, but the Izula is the one I usually carry.

Though I've written extensively on backpacking knives, I'll show you the tasks I've accomplished with the Izula.

Cutting rope and cord
Slicing vegetables and sausage
Opening my bear canister
Carving tent stakes (I don't carry any to save weight)
Opening packages
First aid - cutting gauze, moleskin, etc.

A knife is, after all, a part of the Outbound Dan Critical Four: knife, compass, fire-starting device, and whistle. These are things that every outdoorsman needs to carry on themselves whenever they venture into the wild.

Safety Tip

Never baton with a rock!

Size comparison of the Izula and the Junglas. | Source

Here my friend Steve batons with the Izula. | Source

Batoning with the Izula

The problem with most small knives, is that you can't baton with them. For those of you unfamiliar with batoning, it is the process of splitting or notching by driving a knife into a chunk of wood using a handle or baton.

This is an essential test for a survival knife, as it can be used for cutting notches for traps and splitting logs for making fire boards. I've snapped and chipped blades of lesser knives while batonning before. Though technique (and avoiding knots) is important - high-quality steel is too.

Much to the amazement of my friends, I've easily driven this knife through small logs for making firewood or improvising survival tools.

Comparison of three knives, with the Izula, ESEE 3 and Zancudo folder. Notice the optional green scales on my Izzy. | Source

After splitting this piece of wood, I notched this fire board for use with a bow drill for fire starting. | Source

A Fantastic Survival Knife

Nobody plans on being in a survival situation, but you should always prepare by practicing your skills and carrying the right equipment.

Though many outdoor experts prefer a large-bladed knife for survival, it is impractical if that isn't what you carry in the woods. The thick blade on my Cold Steel SRK is perfect for chopping branches and making shelters, but at nearly half-a-pound I rarely carry it on a wilderness trek.

What I do like to carry is a small neck knife like the Izula.

So what survival tasks have I performed with this knife?

Notching for a trip-up snare.
Notching for a figure-4 dead fall.
Making and preparing a fireboard for a bow drill.
Carving points and stakes.
Fire starting by sparking a ferocerium rod. I usually carry a small beater-knife or partial hacksaw blade for this purpose, but I've practiced with the Izula.
Splitting wood for building fire.

As a side note, none of these tasks were performed while in the midst of a true survival situation. I do however practice my woodsman skills regularly.

How Cotton Kills Hikers

2026-02-24T08:16:00.000-08:00

Cotton Kills: Why Is Cotton Bad for Hiking?

Why should you not wear cotton while hiking? | Source

Cotton Kills Hikers

If you haven't heard the outdoor adage, "cotton kills," pay attention, and you may just save your life. Sure, cotton is fine to wear while shopping for groceries and looking "outdoorsy," but wear it in the great outdoors, and it may kill you.

Every outdoor organization, from the Boy Scouts to The Mountaineers, warns vehemently against wearing cotton while hiking and backpacking. Despite multiple warnings from these experts, people perish each year from inadequate preparedness whilst in pursuit of outdoor adventure.

A guide friend of mine is so anti-cotton that he inspects each garment of everyone he is taking into the backcountry. He's been known to say, "take in an ounce of cotton and pack out a cold body." A bit dramatic, yes—but is it well founded?

While teaching backpacking classes, my favorite illustration of the dangers of wearing cotton is to soak two pairs of pants—jeans and supplex hiking trousers—and let them sit out overnight. In the morning, the class gasps as the jeans creak and moan as I bent their frozen form in half. Meanwhile, I just shook the ice crystals off the hiking pants.

So which would you rather wear?

Sorry folks, the trail is closed. You'll have to come back when you are properly dressed. | Source

Cotton by Other Names

Denim
Duck
Flannel
50/50 blends

Hypothermia: How Cotton Kills

Wearing cotton doesn't leach dangerous chemicals into your skin or make you more prone to being mauled by a rabid beaver; it kills through hypothermia. Hypothermia is a condition in which the body's temperature falls below 95 degrees; it results in death when untreated.

Most people think that hypothermia only happens while digging through five feet of snow, but often it occurs to unsuspecting hikers during marginal weather in the warmer months. According to Mountaineering First Aid, "Many hypothermia cases are reported in wet, windy weather with temperatures well above freezing."

Winter backpackers are usually prepared to combat freezing temperatures with multiple layers of technical clothing. Conversely, summer backpackers and hikers often skimp on warm extra layers and may wear inappropriate clothing that dries slowly and loses its thermal properties (cotton).

Wetness Equals Death

The major problem with cotton is that its hydrophilic nature causes it to dry very slowly and absorbs moisture like a greedy sponge. Conversely, materials like synthetics and merino wick moisture away from the skin and to the outside of the garment, where it evaporates.

So what does it matter if your cotton shirt is soaked?

According to the Appalachian Mountain Club, some forms of cotton absorb up to 27 times their weight. As a backpacker, you need to think carefully about anything that gains weight while outdoors. Like I said, cotton is a sponge.

Wet clothing conducts heat away from your body 25 times faster than dry clothing, so wet clothing (that favorite t-shirt of yours) is a recipe for contracting hypothermia.

Cotton: It's comfy when dry,

And cheap to buy.

But to wear it in winter,

It's a good way to die.

— John Dunn, "Winterwise"

Notice how the rain droplets soak into this cotton shirt. | Source

As the rain begins to fall, rain droplets bead up on this shirt from Mountain Hardwear. | Source

Loss of Thermal Properties

Cotton is an outstanding insulator while it is dry; that's probably why we love flannel sheets on our beds. However, once cotton becomes wet, it loses 95% of its thermal properties. Yes, it will make you colder—a lot colder.

On the other hand, most specialty hiking clothing retains its insulating properties while it is wet. I've been submerged in streams slightly above the freezing point but was fine due to the technical clothing that kept me warm while wet.

If you do insist on wearing cotton while hiking, you should carry several additional layers to change into when your clothing becomes soaked.

Hoodies Are Most Often Cotton

In a survey of my local outfitter, I found that 90% of hoodies are made of cotton. This is unfortunate because the hoody is a favored garment for warmth, especially amongst the younger crowd. If you love the style, check out Under Armor's synthetic hoody selection.

When to Wear Cotton

Besides wearing for casual use, does cotton have a place in the outdoors?

Many desert hikers extol the virtues of cotton while trampling through arid climates. The sweat from their body soaks the cotton shirt, and the gradual process of evaporation cools their bodies during the day. As the cool desert night air drifts in, hikers switch to dry clothes to avoid hypothermia.

Still other desert dwellers dislike the clammy feeling of wet cotton as they hike, so they prefer to wear synthetics. Though cotton has great UV-blocking qualities, many treated garments like Omni-Shade from Columbia are better than cotton at protecting you from the sun. Even the Skin Cancer Foundation recommends those sun-blocking materials.

Comfortable Alternatives to Cotton

Though some people like to wear cotton because "it is comfortable," they haven't worn some of the newer materials which are more comfortable, wick better, and dry faster.

Synthetics

A synthetic hiking shirt is an awesome thing to have, though some people will balk at the expense. I've had one shirt from The North Face that has lasted over 16 years. It thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail with me, climbed mountains, and bike toured across two states. Talk about rugged construction.
Currently my favorite shirts are the Wicked Light shirts from Mountain Hardwear. It is awesome to hike all day and have a dry shirt at the end of it.

Merino Wool

In the early days of hiking, trekkers clad themselves from head to toe in wool—a renewable fiber that retains most of its thermal properties even while wet. As synthetics grew in popularity, people ditched the itchiness and weight of wool.
However, then companies started using Merino wool, a non-itchy super-comfy wool which keeps you warmer in winter and cooler in summer. Though many people love Merino socks (myself included) my favorite long-sleeved shirt is made from Merino by SmartWool. I have worn it for days at a time.

Cocona

Cocona comes from the husks of coconuts. Now that sounds comfortable doesn't it? Actually it is. After coconuts are shelled, the husks are converted into activated carbon (also used for water filters) and then bonded to fibers for use in clothing.
Cocona products are very soft and comfortable, plus they have excellent technical benefits. I've found that my shirts made with cocona dry faster and have better moisture management than most other hiking shirts. Though antibacterial treatments can wash off, cocona's benefits are renewed when you wash them, which makes it a very sustainable garment.

A Few Examples of Tragic Outdoor Deaths

Nobody ever said hiking was safe, but here are a few examples of hikers who perished in the wild. Wearing cotton clothing seems to be a factor in each unfortunate example.

In September of 2008, a hiking party on the Pacific Crest Trail near Tinker's Knob encountered rain and high wind speeds, despite a sunny start to their trip. One hiker died, and three others were rescued. A responding SAR team representative credited the tragedy with, "They had gotten separated, and they were wearing cotton, which takes forever to dry." (Source: "Exposure suspected in the death of Pacific Crest Trail hiker" by Barbara Barte Osborn.)

One of the earlier examples from the Adirondack High Peaks happened during a tragic Thanksgiving weekend. Despite having a new complement of "appropriate gear," two hikers were clad in all cotton. After getting waterlogged in an overly ambitious pursuit, an exhausted hiker with soaked cotton clothing succumbed to a hypothermic death before help could arrive. (Source: "Thanksgiving Weekend Death in the High Peaks" by Princeton Outdoor Action.)

In September 2005, a man hiking in the Alaska Range near Fairbanks died from the effects of hypothermia. A state trooper was quoted, "He was wearing all cotton, which is the worst fabric for cold, wet weather. ... The weather just got the best of him." (Source: "Body of Wyoming Hiker Recovered From Alaska Range," AP.)

Two shirts out in the rain, my experiment. | Source

So I read the accounts and experienced the lack of comfort in cotton-clad hiking, but was there a quick experiment I could do?

I glanced at the rain droplets gathering on my kitchen window and had an idea. I took two shirts, one lightweight cotton and one synthetic, and placed them on my lawn in a light rain. I let them sit for 40 minutes for a good old-fashioned soaking.

I wrung out both shirts as best I could, hung them on a line in an unheated area of my basement, and watched them dry. Watching a couple of shirts drip dry is slightly more exciting than waiting for the grass to grow, but a sacrifice in the name of "science."

The Mountain Hardware Wicked Lite synthetic shirt was dry within 3 hours.

The cotton t-shirt, a giveaway from National Trails Day, took 6.5 hours to dry.

The verdict: specialty hiking clothing dries more quickly than cotton. Given the facts that wet clothing creates heat loss and that cotton loses thermal properties while wet, cotton seems to be the loser in my mini-experiment.

Part of a comfortable hiking clothing system: North Face convertible pants, a Mountain Hardware fleece and t-shirt. | Source

So what do I wear for three-season hiking in the Northeast?

I always think of clothing as a system, and as the most technical part of my gear. This is generally what I carry.

Shell Jacket: The North Face Verto (water and wind resistant)
Warmth: EMS microfleece (zip neck)
Shirt: Mountain Hardware Wicked Lite t-shirt (one every three days)
Pants: EMS Supplex convertible pants/shorts
Shell Pants: Sierra Designs Microlight windpants
Boxers: Ex Officio Give 'n Go boxer briefs (one every two days)
Socks: SmartWool medium hiking socks (one pair per day)
Warm hat: Mountain Hardware neck gaiter
Glove: Seirus Hyperlite gloves

One of my hiking companions. | Source

So Will Cotton Actually Kill You?

Before accusing me and the entire outdoor industry of sensationalist hyperbolic claims, let's look at cotton one more time.

The fact is, many new and old hikers alike venture into the wild with cotton clothing and return unscathed. However, wearing non-cotton clothing is safer.

As part of risk management, you can't eliminate all risks, but you can make things safer. Surely, nobody plans on twisting an ankle or taking the wrong trail, but you can plan what you wear. You will have a safer and more comfortable time outdoors if you wear non-cotton performance hiking clothing.