For years, the smartphone has been hailed as the ultimate multipurpose backpacking tool: It’s a camera, map, GPS, diary, music player, plant identifier, book, and all in one.

Smartphones have become particularly ubiquitous on long trails. Thru-hiking-specific guide apps like FarOut allow hikers to access useful information like elevation profiles, weather, camping options, trail angel contact info, and access to critical updates like trail closures, reroutes, and wildfires—all from the backcountry. For all that functionality packed into one device, a smartphone is an ultralighter’s dream. But as technology plays an increasingly dominant role in our daily lives, some backpackers while on the trail. On a weekend trip, ditching your device is easy. But how about a long trail?

Of course, you can safely and successfully thru-hike without a smartphone—backpackers have been doing it for decades. Shane “Patchwork” Linden, an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker from Rochester, New York, is among a small contingent of backpackers going about it the old fashioned way. Linden, 28, does carry a smartphone for emergencies and to keep in touch with loved ones when he’s in town, but he uses it as little as possible on the trail.

“I came out here because I had a job that was on the computer and I was just staring at a screen all day,” he said. “I noticed that even when I wasn’t working, I would be on my phone or I’d be listening to a podcast or music. And I figured that this [thru-hike] could be almost like a retreat.”

Linden is currently a little over halfway through the AT, and says it’s gotten harder to keep his phone in his pack as he’s progressed. He says the vast majority of thru-hikers he meets use FarOut to inform their treks, and his peers are often incredulous when he tells them he doesn’t have the app. Initially, he decided not to use FarOut because he didn’t want to pay for a subscription, which ranges from $8 to $15 per month. But he’s gotten by just fine without it, instead relying on “,” a print guidebook that outlines the trail’s many landmarks as they correspond to an elevation profile. The guide also features town maps, water source and camping info, and more. Linden has a PDF version of the guide on his phone as backup, but he mostly references a paper copy.

“I just feel like this might be the only time in my life where [I won’t always be using a phone] and I want to try to savor that, even if it is challenging a lot of the time,” he said.

Linden says he sometimes feels like he’s missing out on the wealth of knowledge that exists online from other thru-hikers who post beta about good views, campsites, water sources, or other happenings along the trail. Apps like FarOut provide real-time information that Linden can’t get from his paper guide. But, he says, not relying on the internet allows him to be more spontaneous and make connections with those around him. When Linden stumbles upon an unexpected view or a spring he didn’t know about, he feels a rush of serendipity. This allows him to stay in the moment rather than planning every aspect of his hike ahead of time.

“It’s a good starting point, too, for conversations where I can be like, ‘Oh, can you let me know if there’s a good water source up here?’ Then we just get started talking and that’s what I’m out here for.”

Thru-hikers who ditch the smartphone may find themselves packing a few more gear items to make up for its functionality—Linden hikes with a disposable camera in addition to his paper guide, for example. And whereas plugged-in hikers can often get away with subpar navigation skills, those who go analog need to take extra care to brush up on their

Linden says he misses out on the occasional meme or inside joke that circulates among hikers on FarOut, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Recently, he was sharing a shelter with some other hikers who noticed there was great cell service in the area. While his companions settled in to watch videos on their phones, Linden resisted the temptation to catch up with friends back home and kept his device packed away. Instead, he took in the view from his home for the night.

“I don’t get that much in my life—the chance to just watch the sky change colors as the sun goes down.”

Tips for Hiking Unplugged

Backpackers have been doing it for decades, but can be easier said than done if you’ve become reliant on it. Here are some tricks to ease the transition.

• Learn to navigate. Even if you plan to use or another mapping app while hiking, you should be proficient in Familiarize yourself with your route ahead of time so you can anticipate trail junctions and other decision points.
• Plan ahead. Apps can take the hassle out of logistics in the moment, but doing your research before hitting the trail will make for a smoother experience. Scope out and mark and camping options on your map, as well as any potential evacuation routes or alternative routes. If you can’t plan your entire hike before hitting the trail, consider investing in a paper guide for your route, which you can reference as you go.
• Dial your kit. If you rely on your smartphone for multiple uses, you may need to make some gear swaps when you go low-tech. Think about everything you use your phone for and pack accordingly. (You may want to carry a notebook, watch, book, deck of cards, camera, and/or an emergency communication device, for example.)
• Make friends—but don’t count on them. Self-reliance is key on any long hike, so don’t rely wholeheartedly on obtaining beta from plugged-in hikers you meet along the way. That said, striking up a conversation with other backpackers is an effective way of gathering information and forming connections—which is often what thru-hiking is all about.

The post Is the Smartphone-Free Thru-Hike Dead? Some Hikers Are Bringing It Back appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

An intrepid spirit is all a good adventure dog truly needs—but having the right gear can help pups and their guardians enjoy the journey. Canine hikers can’t always advocate for themselves, so we prioritized products that put safety, comfort, and function at the forefront. For all the joy they give us, our favorite companions deserve the best.

At a Glance

• How to Shop for Your Dog
• How We Test
• Meet Our Testers (and Pups)

All gear in this guide was tested by multiple reviewers. When you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside. Learn more.

NiteIze NiteHowl Max Rechargeable Safety Necklace – Disc-o Select

Sizes: One size (fits 12- to 27-inch neck diameter)

Pros and Cons
⊕ Great visibility at night
⊕ Rechargeable
⊗ Once you cut to size, there’s no adjustability

The best pet products give loving owners peace of mind, and this luminescent collar accomplishes that. Whether your dog likes to explore the campsite after dark or stroll the neighborhood before bed, the NiteHowl Max allows you and others to see your pet from a distance.

Whereas smaller collar lights might get lost in your dog’s fur or be invisible from certain angles, the NiteHowl Max’s wide band is designed to stay on top of especially fluffy fur, completely encircling your dog’s neck in colorful light. Set the light to one of three glowing colors, or turn on Disc-o mode if you want to get the campground party started. The 10-hour runtime was sufficient for weekend trips, and the light is rechargeable via micro USB.

The cut-to-fit band is durable, weather-resistant, and can accommodate dog necks from 12 to 27 inches in diameter. But if your pup is still growing, take note: Once it’s cut, the collar’s size can no longer be adjusted.

Orvis RecoveryZone Couch Dog Bed

Sizes: S, M, L, XL

Pros and Cons
⊕ Supportive, recovery-optimized foam
⊗ Pricey

After a long day exploring the mountains, your dog deserves a comfortable place to rest his head. Our pick for active and old pups: The RecoveryZone Couch Bed, boasting four inches of medium density solid foam topped by a 1-inch-thick Serene Foam layer to cradle weary joints and muscles so dogs can rehabilitate faster.

Bolsters on three sides give your pup a place to rest his head (it also comes in lounger style without bolsters), and a recycled polyester cover is easily removed for machine washing. Though it takes a while before it needs to be washed. “I have a wet and often muddy dog, and dirt just fell off this bed,” reported one tester.

When our furry tester tore his meniscus playing ball, the RecoveryZone provided the perfect landing pad while he healed from his third surgery.

Skida Dog Bandana

Sizes: S, M, L

Pros and Cons
⊕ Easily slides onto your dog’s collar
⊕ So cute
⊗ Can interfere with ID tags on your dog’s collar

Skida’s new line of dog bandanas brings the colorful prints the brand is known for to your pup, with a handful of dog-specific design features. With a channel sewn into the top of the bandana, the fabric slides right onto your dog’s collar, eliminating the need to tie it around their neck. A reflective, high visibility patch also adds a layer of safety when playing at night.

The quick-dry polyester fabric with a water-repellent finish stood up well to all varieties of puppy romping. “It shed sand and water as my dog ran, rolled, and dug in a sandbar on Oregon’s Columbia River,” said one tester. “Even when she splashed after sticks the water-repellent coating held up, and the bandana was dry by the time we made it back to the car.”

After weeks of continuous wear, it still hasn’t required a wash. Best of all, it comes in many of the same prints as Skida’s human hats, neck gaiters, bandanas, and headbands, so you and your best friend can match on your adventures.

Atlas Pet Company Lifetime Harness

Sizes: S, M, L (fits dogs 15 to 130 lbs)

Pros and Cons
⊕ Minimalist yet tough
⊕ Quick to fasten
⊗ Hair can collect on the nylon webbing
⊗ Harness doesn’t always sit centered

Atlas Pet Company’s simple, durable harness had a grip on every single tester. (Their dogs, who would rather have been cruising leashless, thought it was just OK.)

With its tough magnetic buckle and range of reflective colors, the Lifetime Harness pulled the most praise for its tug-discouraging design that loops around the torso and over the chest. “It was super easy to use, and looks great, too,” said one tester, noting that the lightweight, minimalist design saved her thick-coated dog from overheating (and cut down on uncomfortable rubbing points) on long hikes.

Testers liked that the sturdy nylon webbing was supple right out of the box and, combined with the ability to adjust all four straps on the harness, moved right along with their dog.

Ruffwear Trail Runner Dog Running Vest

Sizes: XS, S, M, L/XL (fits dogs with chest girth from 22 to 42”)

Pros and Cons
⊕ Adds just enough control in a lightweight design
⊗ Testers with squirrely pups wished for a front leash connection for extra control

Ruffwear’s canine vest, with room for two included 500 milliliter water flasks (360 milliliters in the XS size) and a collapsible bowl (not included), saved human testers from carrying extra weight and made their dogs look like furry ultra-marathon competitors.

Those with less experienced pups praised the vest’s secure, highly-adjustable fit, which provided much-needed control when Fido spotted a bunny on one jaunt. (We do wish it also had a top handle for lifting our dogs in emergencies.) Breathable fabric kept dogs cool on hot days, and a loop to attach a light offered security for post-sunset runs. Neon colors are a bonus safety feature for those who like to take their jogs to the sidewalk, though testers who did more trail running would’ve liked more color options.

The complete Trail Runner system—sold separately—includes a stretchy leash and pared-down belt for humans, with space for a water flask, keys, and phone. “Super comfy and functional,” one regular trail runner said. “A really excellent design.”

White Duck Outdoors Dog Bed

Sizes: L (36” x 27” x 4”), XL (40” x 28” x 4”)

Pros and Cons
⊕ Roomy and sturdy
⊗ Two available sizes are too big for really small dogs

There was something about this humble bed that acted as a doggie tranquilizer. “My dog has never been a big bed user, but as soon as this arrived, she curled up and took a nap,” said one Washington-based tester.

Maybe it was the cushiness that also offered a little give—courtesy of a polyester fiberfill that repurposes plastic bottles—for dogs who like to burrow. Dogs seemed to like the supportive cotton-polyester blend fabric, while humans appreciated the removable cover with its water-repellent coating for its grime- and claw-resistance. “One of the better beds for outdoor use,” another tester reported.

Wilderdog Backpack

Sizes: S, M, L (fits dogs with chest girth from 17-34”)

Pros and Cons
⊕ Roomy
⊕ Accommodates dogs of many sizes (even a Great Pyrenees)
⊗ Dogs may need time to get used to it before hitting the trail

Testers were jealous when their pals donned Wilderdog’s jewel-toned backpack, made of water-resistant cotton-poly fabric in four shades. “It’s so pretty. The design and aesthetics are top-notch,” a New Mexico-based tester said.

It’s got all the bells and whistles of a top-tier pack: velcro tabs to keep straps from dangling, a handle on top for emergency lifting, aesthetically pleasing patterned accents, and a poop bag dispenser.

But it’s what’s on the inside that impressed us the most: seemingly bottomless space. Testers managed to stuff all their pooches’ backcountry needs within: kibble, treats, collapsible bowls, several water bottles, and layers for chilly nights. Despite its size, testers reported no slippage or awkwardness thanks to four easy-to-dial-in adjustment points.

Wilderdog Sleeping Bag

Sizes: One size, 36” x 28” when zipped shut

Pros and Cons
⊕ Lighter, warmer, and less pricey than competitors
⊕ Stands up to even the stinkiest of dogs
⊗ Just one size (won’t fit large dogs)

We would do anything for our dogs, but we simply refuse to share a sleeping bag with them after they’ve spent a long day hiking, crossing creeks, and rolling in suspicious substances. But testers were pretty sure their pals didn’t mind snoozing solo when they rolled out Wilderdog’s bag.

This cocoon is stuffed with synthetic fill to a pleasingly chunky thickness, and with a cozy, quick-drying cotton lining, our California-based tester confirmed her dog was “snug as a bug” within. Its hefty water-resistant polyester outer makes it a no-brainer to lay out as a campsite resting pad too. (Our Great Pyrenees tester was too big to get inside, but happily lied on top.)

At 1 pound 13 ounces, it’s certainly not for ultralight hikers, but it’s lighter than other brands’ more expensive offerings and rolls down to the size of a large loaf of bread in its included stuff sack. For the peace of mind that our dogs weren’t shivering all night in alpine environments, we found it more than worth any extra pack space.

OllyDog Flyer Disc

Sizes: One size, 8.25” diameter

Pros and Cons
⊕ Packable without sacrificing a satisfying glide
⊗ Your dog might want about 50 of them

Dogs love a classic frisbee for a reason: it catches some sick air so they can live out their Air Bud fantasies. But the discs’ rigid materials aren’t very packable and can be hard on dogs’ teeth over time. Softer discs are usually weaker fliers, but not so for the OllyDog Flyer Disc, our testers reported.

The lightweight and packable circle comes in 11 colors and is easier on the gums after repeated chomps and games of tug-of-war. Constructed of repurposed plastic bottles, it floats on water for dogs who like to do a good lake leap.

And it may be soft, but it’s durable: “It’s holding up impressively considering the abuse it gets,” says one tester. Two New Mexico-based testers said it “flew very well” and let our dogs “leap high in the air.” Just like Air Bud would have wanted.

How to Shop for Your Dog

Before you go on a dog gear spree, grab a tape measure and jot down these key numbers for your pal: weight, length from neck to the base of the tail, neck circumference so you can still insert two fingers’ width under the tape, and circumference of the widest part of the chest. Sizing varies widely among canine brands so you’ll always want to vet your choices alongside actual measurements.

A lot of the rest is highly individualized. Ask yourself about your dog’s unique needs and pain points. Has your dog yet to master the art of walking normally on a leash? Look for harnesses with the option to leash on the front of the chest, which offers more control. Do they love getting in the water or the mud? Water-resistant and quick-drying materials are your friend. A lot of dog gear is made of polyester or a blend, so you’ll want to read the description to make sure a water-repellent coating or waterproof outer is included.

For leashes and collars, fastening points are key: Do you find the leash clip or collar buckle easy to use and secure? We’ve found that leash clips sometimes play better with certain leashes and harnesses (and the rare few come unclipped!), so give new combos a test run in an enclosed space.

For new harnesses or backpacks, pay attention to potential irritation spots; we’ve found that a harness with too much material near the armpits is a no-no for a lot of dogs.

Along with the right sizing, designs with multiple attachment points should also help avoid slipping and rubbing. A good dog pack should have those points at the neck, chest, and belly.

If there’s one thing all our testers took from the process, though, it’s that good poop bag holders and dispensers are worth their weight in gold. If you find a poop bag holder design that you love (or, say, a backpack that comes with one built in), grab it and never look back.

How We Test

• Number of products tested: 15
• Number of canine testers: 4
• Breeds represented: 4
• Ages of dogs: 11 months to 8 years
• Miles hiked: 400+
• Nights spent camping: 24

Our test focused on products that would help adventurous dog owners and their best friends enjoy nature together, from essentials like leashes and harnesses to accessories like trail booties and car seat covers. In order to choose our favorite pet products, our canine testers and their owners took to the parks, trails, lakes, and campgrounds and played hard.

Dogs are great durability testers—they roll, dig, chew, zoom, splash, jump, and nap more in a day than their human counterparts can fathom. Any product that broke, appeared to make our pets uncomfortable, was ill-fitting, or failed to prioritize safety was eliminated from the test. Items that offered peace of mind, held up to hard use, and maximized fun got the final tail-wag of approval.

Meet the Testers

is a senior editor at Backpacker where she specializes in skills and survival stories. An avid hiker, skier, and mountain biker, Zoe has recreated across the U.S. and beyond, often with Juno, her three-year-old border collie mix, by her side.

is a writer and contributing editor atĚý°żłÜłŮ˛őžąťĺąđĚýmagazine. She lives in Seattle, Washington, with her partner and an Australian cattle dog-Chihuahua-pug mix named Henry who looks like the dog a child would draw if you asked them to draw a dog. Henry has an esteemed history of testing forĚýşÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Gear Guides and most loves doing zoomies at the park or splashing in backcountry streams.

Meet the Pups

Lilo is a one-year-old golden retriever. She loves chasing balls and swimming near her home in Portland, Oregon. She frequently gets the zoomies at every campsite she visits. Her favorite treat is cheese sticks.

Juno is a three-year-old border collie mix who is happiest chasing a mountain bike or sniffing wildflowers along the trails near Bellingham, Washington. She loves her human friends more than anything, especially if they’re throwing a frisbee.

Moose is a two-year-old chocolate lab who lives to chase leaves and sticks while hiking near Washington, D.C. But nothing gets his tail wagging like a delicious bone treat!

Murphy is an eight-year-old lab who loves hiking, canoeing, and paddle boarding around Maine and New Hampshire. He has had three knee surgeries which allow him to keep doing the fun outdoor activities that he loves.

The post The Best Outdoor Gear for Your Four-Legged Trail Buddies appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

Some pieces of gear are just controversial. Trekking poles, camp shoes, and even have their haters and die-hards. As it turns out, so do pee cloths. While legions of women have hailed the pee cloth—a reusable square of fabric used to dab drippy nethers—as a great equalizer in the backcountry, others have rolled their eyes at the excess. For years, the debate has raged on: is the pee cloth an absolute necessity, or just an unnecessary accessory? Here’s our editors’ take.

Pee Cloths Rule

My is a treasured staple in my backpacking kit. Sure, sticks and leaves can keep me dry-ish in a pinch—but why would I settle for subpar and scratchy and flirt with when I can invest just half an ounce of weight and zero pack space into being dry and clean?

Air drying is OK in a pinch, and snow works where I can find it (brrr!), but my pee cloth keeps me feeling as fresh as I do at home, and it has a cool design that adds some razzle dazzle when hanging on the outside of my pack. If I’m going to spend a week being grimy, I’ll take the small comforts where I can get them. That includes extending the use of my underwear before I’m dying for a fresh pair. I can wear a sweat-stained t-shirt for days, but dry underwear makes all the difference for my enjoyment on trail.

Smell isn’t an issue, either: My Kula dries in a flash in the sun and washes easily in the laundry when I get home. It’s odor-resistant and antimicrobial, so I can feel good about my hygiene. Nothing against smooth rocks and vegetation, but I’d rather keep the dirt on the outside of my hiking pants).

Sure, I could spend a laborious extra minute in a deep squat, trying to shake off the drops, but I’d rather do my business, pat dry, and be back on the trail in a heartbeat. I’d prefer to save my quads for that next climb, anyway.

—Zoe Gates, Senior Editor

Pee Cloths SuckĚý

Christ on a bike. You wipe with the wrong leaf one time.ĚýWe all make mistakes in our youth, OK, Zoe?

Still, I confess that after the aforementioned incident, I did try the pee rag method for a while. It seemed like such a good idea for all the reasons you lay out. But in reality, it’s just more trouble than it’s worth.

One of the best things about hiking is that you have the freedom to drop trou at a moment’s notice, whenever the mood or scenery strikes you. But if you have a pee rag to worry about, you can’t just kick into a wide stance and let loose. Instead, you have to remove your pack (delicately, to avoid tossing your pee cloth in the dirt), unfasten the rag, and then discreetly carry it into the woods with you. Once you’ve done your business, you must then carry it, dripping, back to the trail, refasten it, and hoist a backpack covered in moist pee. If your bag is heavy, you must sling it onto your shoulder carefully to avoid whipping your partner in the face with your urine-soaked pennant. Not ideal.

While some backpackers don’t mind the junk show look, I prefer to . I want my pack neat and tidy, without any danglers to snag on overhung branches or get caught in thorns during sections of bushwhacking. Then there’s the matter of (literally) airing your dirty laundry on the trail. I wouldn’t want a pair of panties dangling off the back of my pack. So why would I want the world to watch my pee flag fluttering in the wind?

Even during the days when I carried a pee cloth with me, I still found myself shaking dry the majority of the time just to avoid the hassle. It’s so easy to do a little wiggle and then use a smooth stick or stone to flick off extra drops. That way, you leave your urine where it ought to be: in the ground, not all over your pack.

In my mind, the pee cloth craze is just another way to get you to spend $20 on a piece of gear you don’t really need. I’ll keep my money—and continue peeing the way nature intended.

—Corey Buhay, Interim Managing Editor

The post Marketing Ploy or Essential? Our Editors Debate the Pee Cloth. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

Treadiquette is a monthly column helping hikers calibrate their moral compasses. Have a burning question about ethics or etiquette on the trail? Send your predicaments to treadiquette@backpacker.com

Dear Backpacker,

I recently visited a very popular trail while on vacation out of state. I’d been looking forward to the hike for months, and when I arrived, the trailhead was packed. I circled the lot a few times, but all of the official spots were taken. However, there was room in a line of cars parked in a “no parking” zone beside the road. I joined the dozen or so other cars—what’s one more, after all? My hiking partner, however, got mad at me, and was grumpy for the rest of the hike. Who’s in the right here?

—Trailhead Renegade

Dear Renegade,

Your dilemma is one most hikers are familiar with—the devil on one shoulder goading you toward the open trail, while a rule-abiding angel tells you to hit the road. It’s immensely difficult to delay your hike, especially one you’ve been eagerly anticipating, and even more so when you see scores of other hikers bending the rules in their favor. But exercising a bit of willpower could save you from a gut-wrenching end to your hike: No one wants to return to the trailhead, weary-legged and hungry, to find a hefty ticket, or worse, that their car has been booted or towed.Ěý

Parking restrictions serve many purposes. On many occasions, illegally parked cars have prevented emergency vehicles from accessing trailheads. The same is true for snow removal vehicles in winter, trail maintenance personnel, and rangers who need to access the trail for myriad reasons. Importantly: Parking illegally also tends to piss off local residents, giving hikers a bad reputation (and in some cases, threatening access).Ěý

Leave No Trace also starts before you even get out of the car: Roadside parking can have ill effects on plant life and surrounding habitat. Just like we encourage hikers to keep their boots on the path to , it’s best to avoid running over plants or delicate soil.Ěý

Limited parking can help manage crowds on hiking trails, which reduces impact on the environment and boosts your enjoyment as a visitor. Parking only where permitted is a , both on the trail and off.Ěý

We know the disappointment of showing up to a crowded trailhead, so take the following steps to avoid driving home in frustration. When visiting a busy area, always identify a nearby alternative hike—you might even discover some unexpected solitude if you have to take plan B. Where available, take advantage of shuttles and carpooling so you can skip the parking lot drama altogether.Ěý

Our best advice: Get an early start. You might be tempted to snooze the alarm, but the only way to guarantee a parking spot is beating the crowds. Those lonely miles in the crisp morning air will make it oh so worth it.Ěý

Zoe Gates is a senior editor at Backpacker. She runs the Treadiquette column and does her best to avoid trail widening.

The post Parking Like a Jerk Is a Trailhead Epidemic. Why Shouldn’t I Do It Too? appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

I was on a Backpacker winter gear testing trip when I knew I was ready. It was five days of skiing and camping in Oregon’s . Cotton candy sunsets and perfect corn turns punctuated the long skins, sticky snow, and frigid nights. There was plenty to be blissful about: great food, cheerful company, and a snow-blanketed mountain range seemingly to ourselves. And yet my favorite part of the trip? Our guides’ two golden retrievers, who accompanied us on every tour.Ěý

Luna and Sadie rode shotgun into our basecamp on their owners’ snowmobiles. They trotted alongside us on every ascent, and when it was time to descend, they barrelled down each pitch with such displays of joy that I fell instantly in love.Ěý

I grew up with dogs, and have always known I’d have my own some day. But having just turned 25, my future felt too uncertain to make such a long-term commitment. Luna and Sadie, though, flipped a switch in me. They were the perfect : playful, obedient, and complete rippers on the snow. Plus, nothing is better than a warm puppy snuggle on a winter night in camp. As soon as we got back to town I turned on my phone and began scrolling rescue sites. I didn’t want just any dog; I wanted one who would love to play outside as much as I do.Ěý

Six months later, Juno came home. She was an 8-week-old . Throughout my search for the right pet, I’d been adamantly opposed to the idea of a herding dog; too much energy, I thought. But as soon as I saw her photos, in which she looked simultaneously like an innocent stuffed animal and a little maniac, I knew she was mine.Ěý

Few of my friends had dogs. They’re too much work. It would hold me back, they’d say. Like many 20-somethings living in Boulder, Colorado, we spent every winter weekend on skis and every summer one on the trails. After-work hours were for bike rides or climbing sessions. We could decide on Friday afternoon to make a spontaneous trip to Moab or Crested Butte and be in the car by 5. Would getting a dog change all that?Ěý

Juno’s homecoming brought a wave of joy into my life. She was adorable, fun, and remarkably well-behaved. We bonded right away. But on my second Saturday with her, I got my first dose of FOMO. My boyfriend and roommates were all out riding bikes and doing non-puppy-friendly activities. It was a gorgeous fall day, and I was home—something I was unaccustomed to.Ěý

So I called up a friend and we planned a last-minute hike to nearby Lake Isabelle. Juno, then too young to walk more than a few minutes on her own, we rigged with a daypack and towels. As soon as we arrived at the alpine lake and I let her out to explore, my FOMO melted away. Late afternoon sunlight sparkled off the water. The little ball of fluff awkwardly clambering over the talus had stolen my heart. I wasn’t on my bike or on a spontaneous overnight, but I was experiencing a new brand of beauty.Ěý

Juno has been in my life for a little over a year now, and I’ve fully embraced the “my dog is my personality” mentality. Even as ski season ramped up, I didn’t experience an ounce of regret about adopting a puppy. Every morning, she’d greet me by baring her puppy teeth into a little smile. She quickly became beloved by all my friends, who spoiled her with new toys and Starbucks pup cups. And while I may have had to cut a few backcountry tours short to race home to her (and her signature full-body wiggling greetings), life with a dog has given me a whole new perspective on time spent outside.Ěý

, the first thing I do every morning and the last thing I do before bed is step outside for a walk, whether I like it or not. I’ve stood under the stars more nights this year than I ever have, even if from the sidewalk outside my house. I gained an appreciation for the nature outside my doorstep and for the early-morning sunlight I’d normally sleep through. Juno and I have stopped to observe countless squirrels, and we never miss a chance to walk through the community garden and sniff the flowers. Thanks to Juno, I also got to know my neighbors. She encourages me to get up from my desk at least once every day just to appreciate the fresh air.Ěý

The weekend warrior mindset values quality over quantity—go epic every weekend, then white knuckle it through the workweek until Saturday rolls around again. But with Juno, I’ve learned to t every single day.Ěý

We recently moved to a new town in a state I’d never even visited before. Thanks to Juno’s exercise needs, I’ve discovered miles of enchanting local trails that I would have otherwise overlooked for the mountains a few hours away. With her, any random Tuesday lunch break can become an adventure. When I’m tempted to lie on the couch and watch TV, she encourages me to grab the leash instead. We’re both better for it.

Having a dog doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice my time outdoors. In fact, it’s been the opposite: I’m lucky that she loves to be on the trails as much as I do, and watching her explore nature adds a new dimension to adventures that I never thought possible. At only a year old, Juno’s driven across the country with me five times. She’s gone rafting, , backpacking, and swimming. Big trips might require a little more planning, but it’s worth it to have my best friend by my side. And as soon as she learns not to bite bike tires, we’ll swap out afternoon walks for trail rides. By adopting a dog, I didn’t lose out on outdoor experiences. I gained the best kind of adventure partner—one who’s always positive, can outrun me any day, and is darn cute. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

The post Getting a Dog Taught Me to Love the Outdoors All Over Again appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

I see them every single day: Neatly-knotted plastic bags of all colors, sometimes “discreetly” tucked by a trailside boulder, atop a marker post, or, in the most egregious cases, right in the middle of the trail. On my local trails and in the backcountry, abandoned dog poop bags can seem more common than unscooped poop. This needs to end.Ěý

, perhaps you’ve been tempted to ditch their doodoo, telling yourself you’ll circle back for it later. Sure, I’ve been tantalized—like when my dog has a particularly stinky elimination at the least convenient part of a hike (on our neighborhood jaunts, she likes to time it for after we’ve passed the dumpster but before we’ve actually gotten to the trail, maximizing the time I’ll have to carry it). But even when it means toting a putrid package for miles on end, I pack out the dog poop. Because not only is it likely I’ll forget to pick up my trash on the hike out, but also because other hikers shouldn’t be subject to staring at my garbage, even if it’s only there for an hour.Ěý

In my opinion, leaving a bagged turd on the side of the trail is even worse than not picking it up in the first place. Plastic bags are more visually intrusive than naked droppings, which tend to blend in with the ground. (Mind you, I’m not condoning this sort of neglect either. And forget the “other animals poop outside!” nonsense—deer and coyotes are native, your pup isn’t.) As a community, hikers have largely gotten over . You wouldn’t drop your crushed beer can or candy wrapper on the ground. Why are doggy bags any different?

“I’ll just pick it up later,” you may say. “What’s the harm in that?” Temporarily littering is still littering, and your actions signal to others that it’s OK to do so. The cumulative effect of multiple poop bags degrade the hiking experience for your fellow trail users. And let’s say you do forget to circle back for that bundle. It’ll take much longer to decompose than unbagged excrement (). Perhaps you justify the act by telling yourself that at least someone won’t step in bagged waste, but a spoiled view is just as unpleasant as a dirtied boot sole.Ěý

Backpackers pride themselves on going days without a shower, sleeping in the dirt, drinking river water, and doing our . So why do we have such a problem carrying some dog poop? In a sealed plastic bag? If properly picked up, carrying your dog’s poop for a few miles poses no health risk—and if you stow it properly, should cause little to no noticeable odor. From licking salsa off a shelter floor to comparing blisters, I’ve seen hikers unflinchingly do much grosser things.Ěý

I get it: it can be plain inconvenient to carry out a bag of poop, especially on hikes where you need to keep your hands free. I’ve had to get creative, lashing poop bags to my bike handlebars or carabinering them to the outside of my pack. Hikers are inventive. If you can jerry-rig a broken tent pole or treat a sprained ankle, surely you can find a way to transport a bag of poo with you until it can be disposed of.Ěý

If you follow the first principle of Leave No Trace (), you won’t need to enlist that creativity. Poop is inevitable, and every dog owner should have a plan to dispose of it before bringing their pooch along for a hike. No excuses.Ěý

If carrying those extra few ounces by hand or shoving it in next to your first aid kit is too much for you, I’ll offer some solutions: Designate a fanny pack or a pocket of your pack as the poop compartment. Bagged poop shouldn’t leak, but if you still get the ickies, line that pocket with a trash bag or a dedicated, lightweight dry bag. If you really want to go hard on odor blocking, carry an empty coffee bag or some Ěý

Even better? Get your pooch a backpack. If you don’t want to carry out your dog’s excrement, make them do it! Your pup won’t mind the smells, and can also carry their own water and treats.

If you still feel tempted to ditch that plastic bag trailside? It’s time to find a dogsitter, and hit the trail by yourself instead.

The post Leaving Dog Poop on the Trail Is Bad. Leaving Dog Poop Bags on the Trail Is Worse. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

Treadiquette is a monthly Backpacker column helping hikers calibrate their moral compasses. Have a burning question about ethics or etiquette on the trail? Send your predicaments to treadiquette@backpacker.com.

Dear Backpacker,

I love to hike with my dog, who is very well-behaved. I keep him leashed on busy trails, but on a recent hike, I let him off-leash despite signs indicating that leashes were required. We didn’t see any other hikers or animals for the whole day, and not holding the leash made it easier for me to navigate uneven terrain. Was I wrong to do this?

—Dog Dad

Dear Dog Dad,

I’m an obsessive pet owner myself, and because of that—not in spite of it—I can answer emphatically: Yes, you were wrong. It’s great that you leash your pup on busy trails to respect other hikers. As you probably know, some people, dogs, and kids don’t like being greeted by an unfamiliar pooch when out enjoying nature. But leash requirements exist for a whole host of reasons, and they’re still important even when there aren’t other hikers around. Let’s start with the one that might speak most to a pet parent like you: keeping your dog safe.

Earlier this summer, an unleashed dog in North Carolina another leashed dog. The attack proved to be fatal for the leashed pet. Your off-leash dog could put you at risk, too, by luring a defensive or aggressive mountain lion, bear, or other predator right to you. Last summer, by an aggressive moose in Colorado. Authorities ended up shooting and killing the moose.Ěý

An animal lover like yourself might also empathize with the ways leash rules protect wildlife.ĚýĚý

“Dogs evolved from predators, and deep down, they still have that instinct,” said Mark Biel, natural resources program manager at . Biel is a dog person himself; his trained border collie, to shepherd deer, mountain goats, and bighorn sheep away from highly trafficked areas. Your pet dog, on the other hand, isn’t trained to behave around wildlife, and could negatively impact wild animals. A leash is an easy solution.

“If you keep them on the leash, the dogs won’t harass the wildlife, which in turn prevents the wildlife from having to expend precious fat reserves to either run away or defend itself,” said Biel.Ěý

Also, don’t even get us started on .Ěý

“Dog feces is a great way to transmit diseases from domestic animals to wild animals that might not be vaccinated against some of these diseases. And that can lead to potentially wiping out a population in a certain area of the park,” said Biel. If your dog is leashed, you’re way more likely to .Ěý

You mentioned your dog is “well-behaved.” Biel points out that while that’s probably true, we can’t count on predicting our dog’s behavior in unpredictable backcountry scenarios. Even Gracie, who underwent 12 weeks of specialized training, stays leashed when she is on duty moving animals in Glacier National Park.Ěý

“Dogs are individuals that have a mind of their own,” he said. “You might have a general idea of what they’re going to do, but it’s like trying to predict what a teenager’s going to do.”

If you can’t safely navigate the terrain while keeping your pet safely leashed, it’s time to reconsider the types of trails you’re hiking with your dog. Training your pup in loose leash walking will ease the burden on both of you. The is a great resource for . Biel also recommends the National Park Service’s program, for more information on recreating with your pup on public lands. There are plenty of areas where your dogĚýisĚýallowed to roam free. But when you’re on a trail that requires otherwise, it’s best for you and your furry friend to follow the rules.Ěý

The post Should I Let My Dog Off-Leash While Hiking? appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

This article was first published by .

, perhaps you’ve been tempted to ditch their doodoo, telling yourself you’ll circle back for it later. Sure, I’ve been tantalized—like when my dog has a particularly stinky elimination at the least convenient part of a hike (on our neighborhood jaunts, she likes to time it for after we’ve passed the dumpster but before we’ve actually gotten to the trail, maximizing the time I’ll have to carry it). But even when it means toting a putrid package for miles on end, I pack out the dog poop. Because not only is it likely I’ll forget to pick up my trash on the hike out, but also because other hikers shouldn’t be subject to staring at my garbage, even if it’s only there for an hour.

In my opinion, leaving a bagged turd on the side of the trail is even worse than not picking it up in the first place. Plastic bags are more visually intrusive than naked droppings, which tend to blend in with the ground. (Mind you, I’m not condoning this sort of neglect either. And forget the “other animals poop outside!” nonsense—deer and coyotes are native, your pup isn’t.) As a community, hikers have largely gotten over . You wouldn’t drop your crushed beer can or candy wrapper on the ground. Why are doggy bags any different?

“I’ll just pick it up later,” you may say. “What’s the harm in that?” Temporarily littering is still littering, and your actions signal to others that it’s OK to do so. The cumulative effect of multiple poop bags degrade the hiking experience for your fellow trail users. And let’s say you do forget to circle back for that bundle. It’ll take much longer to decompose than unbagged excrement (). Perhaps you justify the act by telling yourself that at least someone won’t step in bagged waste, but a spoiled view is just as unpleasant as a dirtied boot sole.

Backpackers pride themselves on going days without a shower, sleeping in the dirt, drinking river water, and doing our . So why do we have such a problem carrying some dog poop? In a sealed plastic bag? If properly picked up, carrying your dog’s poop for a few miles poses no health risk—and if you stow it properly, should cause little to no noticeable odor. From licking salsa off a shelter floor to comparing blisters, I’ve seen hikers unflinchingly do much grosser things.

I get it: it can be plain inconvenient to carry out a bag of poop, especially on hikes where you need to keep your hands free. I’ve had to get creative, lashing poop bags to my bike handlebars or carabinering them to the outside of my pack. Hikers are inventive. If you can jerry-rig a broken tent pole or treat a sprained ankle, surely you can find a way to transport a bag of poo with you until it can be disposed of.

If you follow the first principle of Leave No Trace (), you won’t need to enlist that creativity. Poop is inevitable, and every dog owner should have a plan to dispose of it before bringing their pooch along for a hike. No excuses.

If carrying those extra few ounces by hand or shoving it in next to your first aid kit is too much for you, I’ll offer some solutions: Designate a fanny pack or a pocket of your pack as the poop compartment. Bagged poop shouldn’t leak, but if you still get the ickies, line that pocket with a trash bag or a dedicated, lightweight dry bag. If you really want to go hard on odor blocking, carry an empty coffee bag or some

Even better? Get your pooch a backpack. If you don’t want to carry out your dog’s excrement, make them do it! Your pup won’t mind the smells, and can also carry their own water and treats.

If you still feel tempted to ditch that plastic bag trailside? It’s time to find a dogsitter, and hit the trail by yourself instead.

The post Please Take Your Dog-Poop Bag with You. Thanks. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

If I didn’t know any better, you could’ve convinced me I was standing on a floating ice chunk somewhere in the Arctic Ocean. The setting sun cast a glow on the horizon that, despite the , painted everything a warm orange. Just moments ago, besides our pair of red, expedition-style tunnel tents, everything had been white. Flat snow filled every inch of my vision, punctuated now and then by sculptural masses of ice poking up from the surface like translucent shark fins.Ěý

This was March on Minnesota’s Lake of the Woods, and according to renowned polar explorer and expedition guide Eric Larsen, it was the closest approximation of polar conditions in the contiguous U.S. It’s where Larsen, who has visited the north and south poles and the summit of Everest in a single year, trains clients for polar travel. During this session, he had three clients; one was headed to the North Pole, another to the South. Me? I just wanted to get over the winter camping hump. So I joined Larsen for week of classroom-based lessons followed by five days on the ice. If I could survive simulated polar conditions, how hard could a few December nights in the Rockies be?

With temperatures dropping to -15°F at night and hovering in single digits during the day, conditions were balmy by Larsen’s standards. Nevertheless, we operated as if it were -40°F, and encountered a range of conditions from whiteouts to powerful winds. As it turns out, self-supported expedition-style travel, whether at the North Pole or in , is a good parallel for winter camping, where self-sufficiency is paramount to survival. Here’s what I learned.Ěý

Staying Warm

This, of course, is the crux of winter travel, and where you’ll focus all of your energy. Finding the right layers for any given situation takes some practice—sweating can be dangerous, so you must constantly adjust to maintain a dry, warm equilibrium.Ěý

Gear Essentials

Polar explorers travel anything but light. Here’s what students pack for Larsen’s expedition training courses.

• Expedition Nordic skis, skins, poles, and boots
• Short- and long-sleeve baselayer shirts in a variety of weightsĚý
• Fleece jacket
• Expedition anorak with a fur ruff (You’d be amazed at how much heat fur traps around the face)
• Medium-weight down jacket
• Heavy expedition down jacket
• Synthetic underwear
• Baselayer pants in a variety of weights
• Shell pants or bibs
• Insulated pants (down or fleece)Ěý
• Sock liners
• Hiking socks in various weightsĚý
• Heavy wool socks
• Glove liners
• Fleece gloves
• Fleece mitten liners
• Over mittsĚý
• Insulated gloves
• Insulated expedition mittens
• Warm hat
• Buff
• BalaclavaĚý
• Sunglasses
• Goggles with nose beak
• Sleeping bag (see p. 93)
• Bivy sack (for packing your sleeping bags into—stuffing them causes the down to freeze while compacted)
• Two foam sleeping pads
• Large stuffsacks
• Insulated water bottle covers (Make your own out of insulated packing material and duct tape)
• Other personal items for campingĚý

Don’t Do This: Be Bold, Start Cold

Many winter hikers and skiers have heard this one, but Larsen doesn’t ascribe to it. Start comfy, shed layers as your body temperature rises, and always prioritize layer management over pace. In groups, it can be useful to set a policy: If one person stops to adjust layers, the entire group waits. This creates a that keeps temperature management at the forefront—and over time, it’s more efficient, as no one needs to stop to deal with sweaty layers or numb fingers. Larsen’s key to comfort: Be proactive and selfish.Ěý

Layering

Core: For high-output travel, maximize breathability but also wind protection. Larsen’s polar travel layering system eliminates fleece and down while moving (they’ll make you sweat). Try multiple baselayers—up to three or four—with a shell on top in windy conditions. They’ll keep you as warm as bulkier layers while still allowing sweat to escape. Whenever you stop, put on your big puffy to trap the heat you generated while moving.Ěý

Head: Protecting your face from wind and helps ward off cold injury. A balaclava, hat, buff, and nose beak allow you to adjust as needed.

Hands: Combine glove liners, fleece mitts, and over mitts. Reserve your big mittens for emergencies or times when you need to warm back up quickly.Ěý

Feet: Keep your boot liners dry. In extreme temps, your liners won’t dry out in your tent overnight—they’ll freeze. Keep them dry longer by wearing vapor barriers: Layer either plastic bread bags or commercial models (like Rab Vapour Barrier Socks) inside your sock, either next to the skin or over a sock liner.

Pro tip: Your body is all connected, so keeping your core warm helps maintain your extremities, too. Got frigid fingers? Zip up your jacket, put on your hood, and move your body.

Sew Your Own Nose BeakĚý

A nose beak protects your face from exposure to cold air and wind, but unlike a Buff or mask, it allows more air circulation to avoid saturation and freezing from your breath.

Materials: recycled fleece from an old jacket, recycled nylon or windproof fabric, dental floss, sewing needle

1)Ěý Using chalk or a marker, trace the nose indent of your goggles on the fabric. The top of your nose beak will attach directly to the foam on the bottom of your goggles. Below this, trace an oval large enough to cover the lower half of your face.

2)Ěý Cut out matching pieces of fleece and nylon. Using the floss and needle, stitch around the edges to attach the fabrics (it doesn’t have to be pretty).Ěý

3) Stitch the beak directly into the foam of your goggles, fleece side in. Pinch the beak to create a small gap at the bridge of your nose—this will hold the beak slightly away from your face and allow air to escape while still keeping you warm. Without proper airflow, your goggles will fog—pack an extra needle and floss in your repair kit so you can adjust as needed.Ěý

Strategic Systems

In extreme environments, your most important survival tools are your systems, which you must develop and dial in ahead of time so that they become second nature by the time you’re in the field. Regular travel can turn into a survival situation in the blink of an eye—a piece of gear fails, you get wet, the weather changes. What might not be a big deal in summer can turn dire in extreme temps where stopping, removing gloves, and tinkering while the wind is gusting can be dangerous. The ability to fall back on your systems prevents little problems from becoming big ones. Preparation and efficiency at every step of your day is key so that you can focus your attention on the basics: eating, hydrating, and staying warm.

1)Ěý Your number one job is staying comfortable and ready to deal with issues as they arise. You won’t be able to problem solve effectively if you’re .Ěý

2)Ěý Prepare your gear so you can use it as seamlessly as possible when you’re bundled up and cold. Larsen keeps all of his expedition tents ready for quick deployment by leaving in poles, pre-rigging guylines, and rolling it up into a large bag instead of a stuffsack. Assess your own kit: Can you add longer zipper pulls to your jacket? Modify your sled for ease of use? For expeditions, you need to put as much effort into planning as the trip itself.Ěý

3)Ěý Consider impact over time. On long, arduous expeditions, the toll on your body doesn’t just reset when you go to sleep at night. Every inefficiency, error, or small injury that may be minor in isolation has a cumulative effect; maximizing your efficiency in all tasks saves you invaluable time and energy in the long run.Ěý

Pro Tip: Wrap Thermoses, fuel bottles, ski poles, and other exposed metal with hockey grip tape. They’ll feel less cold to the touch, and reduce your risk of frostbite while making them easier to grab.

Pulling a Sled

When you can’t fit all your gear in your pack, it’s time to enlist the pulk sled. “Honestly, I think sleds are good for most winter terrain, with the exception of bigger and steeper slopes,” says Larsen. “Of course, there are the obvious factors of the terrain and amount of snow.” While a pack might perform better on continuously steep ups and downs or fast and light missions, a sled can generally help you tow winter loads, which tend to be much heavier and bulkier than summer gear.Ěý

A dollar store kids’ sled paired with a duffel or pack can be sufficient for many types of winter trips. Purpose-made expedition sleds tend to be more durable and have more carrying capacity. For polar missions, Larsen custom fits expedition sleds with riveted-on sled bags to keep gear covered.Ěý

Pro Tip: How to pull your sled over pressure ridges, inclines, and other obstacles

• Ski up to a dropoff, pull your sled as close to you as possible, side step down, point your skis forward, and use momentum to pull the sled over the obstacle.

• Use your bodyweight to lean in the direction you want the sled to go.

•For small inclines or bumps, take a few “running” steps to gain momentum.

MealtimeĚý

On summer backpacking trips, it’s . But when weather conditions are extreme, it can be unsafe to sit outside to cook and melt snow. It is possible to safely operate a stove (go for liquid fuel, which works better in the cold) inside the tent, with the following precautions:

•Minimize fire hazards by leaving sleeping bags and extraneous gear in the vestibule while cooking. And no inflatable pads—they create unstable surfaces and tripping hazards.

•Maximize airflow by unzipping tent doors at least 6 inches and opening any vents. Pitch your tent so that the wind gusts through these openings and aids in air circulation.Ěý

•A homemade stove board of plywood, aluminum sheet, and shock cord acts as a flat surface to keep your setup off the floor, and holds everything in place. It can be useful to use two stoves: One for warmth and drying gear, the other for melting snow.

•Make a windscreen out of aluminum sheet and a draw latch to stabilize the pot and maximize fuel efficiency, which is crucial on long expeditions.Ěý

•Always open fuel bottles in the vestibule to avoid spills inside. Set up, prime, and light your stove there, too. Return the stove to the vestibule to turn it off, as it will release vaporized gas.

•Lighters are unreliable in the cold. Use matches.Ěý

•Fuel on your fingers will result in immediate frostbite in extreme temperatures. Wear your glove liners, and use caution.Ěý

•Don’t put an empty pot on the flame. Always keep a thermos of “starter water” in your stove bag to speed up the melting process, and avoid burning the pot by putting in dry snow.Ěý

•Melting snow takes a long time. Budget at least an hour and a half in the morning from when you wake up to when you break camp. A good book, downloaded movies, or chatty tentmates help pass the time.

Meal Planning and Nutrition

Expedition food should be healthy and well-balanced while offering plenty of calories to meet the increasing demand of keeping the body warm and moving. On a North Pole expedition, Larsen will consume up to 8,000 calories per day. Food and fuel are the two heaviest elements in a polar traveler’s kit, so calorie efficiency is especially important.Ěý

•Add butter and olive oil to your dehydrated meals, oatmeal, soup, and beverages to boost calorie intake. Bars, chocolate, trail mix, and salami and cheese make good on-the-go snacks. Ěý

•Know your preferences. The best food is the kind you’ll eat.Ěý

•Your caloric needs will increase over time. Plan for bigger dinners after the first five days, bumping up calories periodically.

•Eliminate packaging and condense food to save space and weight.Ěý

•Keep hard candy in accessible pockets for quick energy on the go. (Partially tear the package before stowing it—you’ll be grateful you don’t need to remove your mittens later on.)

Pro Tip:

•Bacon bits in oatmeal add protein and calories. Trust us.

•Keep bars inside your water bottle’s insulated sleeve to keep them pliable.

•Fill an insulated bottle with hot soup before setting out. A steaming lunch is a morale booster and plays an important role in keeping you warm.

Navigation

Polar travel poses a unique set of navigational challenges, not the least of which is frequent whiteout conditions. When visual cues are obscured, it becomes impossible to navigate without the help of a compass. Left to your own devices in a whiteout, you’ll inevitably move in a circle instead of a straight line. When he’s unable to see his surroundings, Larsen uses a hands-free bracket that holds his compass level against the body. This allows him to ski while keeping his eye on the compass needle at all times to ensure he’s going the right direction without the help of landmarks. Before embarking on a winter trip, make sure you’re comfortable taking and following a bearing.

Bedtime

•, remove any hanging gear from your clothesline and pack it in your stuffsack or sleeping bag. Anything you expose to the air overnight will become frosty as you breathe. In the morning, use a brush to sweep the frost off the tent walls and ceiling before turning on your stove so it doesn’t melt and drip.Ěý

•A two sleeping bag system is versatile and way more affordable than a fancy expedition-style bag. The inner (-20°F) bag stays lofted and dry even when the outer (20°F or warmer) bag is frosty and damp. Put the warmer bag inside, and use a rectangular or roomier bag on the outside. Larsen uses two foam pads, which are insulating, convenient, and more reliable than inflatables.Ěý

•Sleep cold? Layer up and lie on your back to avoid breathing into your sleeping bag and creating condensation.Ěý

Pro Tip: Fill a Nalgene with hot water and put it in your sleeping bag for warmth.

A Day on the Ice

7 AM: Wake up, dress, and move sleeping bags into vestibule

7:15 AM: Light stove, melt water, eat,Ěý dry out gear, and make repairs

10 AM: Take down tent and pack sledsĚý

10:30 AM: Travel, taking snack breaks every hour

Noon: Hot lunch

12:30 PM: Travel, taking snack breaks every hour

5 PM: Set up tent, build wind block out of snow for bathroom

5:30 PM: Melt snow, eat dinner, dry gear, repair gear

10 PM: Sleep

The post A Polar Explorer Shares Lessons on Surviving Extreme Cold appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.

Hikers flocked to Colorado’s 14,272-foot Quandary Peak during the pandemic, and in 2020 the mountain surpassed 14,066-foot Mount Bierstadt to become the state’s most-climbed fourteener. The soaring popularity had its downside, however—the parking lot at Quandary Peak/McCollough Gulch often filled up before sunrise, prompting some visitors to park illegally, block emergency access points, and to even leave their cars along secluded roadways in a nearby housing development.

The trailhead is managed jointly by Summit County and the nearby town of Breckenridge, and in 2021 the managers launched a parking system designed to cut down on the crowds. From June 1 through September 30 would-be hikers could either pay to reserve a spot in the lot ahead of time, or park in town and take a shuttle to and from the peak.

“Over the last several years, it became an incredibly dangerous situation for hikers,” Summit County commissioner Elisabeth Lawrence said at the time. “Illegal parking on county roads blocked access to the trailhead for emergency vehicles. We have been in need of a solution for quite some time and were very pleased with the results of the pilot program from last year.”

The program alleviated the parking stress, and so officials brought it back for 2022. Earlier this week, officials released revenue numbers for the first two years of the system. ĚýtheĚýSummit Daily, inĚý2021, the fees generated $91,852. In 2022, that number jumped to $223,123.

There were multiple reasons for the jump in revenue: In 2021 shuttle to and from the mountain was free, but for 2022 officials began charging $15 for non-residents and $5 for residents. The price for parking also went up. In 2021 hikers paid $50 to park for the entire day, $20 for a half-day, and $5 for a three-hour period. In 2022 officials eliminated the half-day option, but lowered the price to $25 for off-peak days. A three-hour parking pass cost $20.

Now, county officials are planning improvements to the trailhead. Earlier this week the county board of commissioners passed a measure to build a communications tower and a shelter/storage area, and add “allowed trail, accessory trail, and parking uses” in the area.

The post Officials Launched a Parking Fee for Colorado’s Most Popular Fourteener. Here’s How Much Cash It Generated. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔšĎÍř Online.