Trailspace Blog May 2007
Ode to a Pack
Me and my pack on Mount Monroe, N.H., 2003
Ten years ago I bought a black Kelty daypack at the EMS store in Burlington, Vermont. At the time it was a simple purchase. I needed a backpack for hiking. I tried on various models. I found one that fit and I liked. I bought it. But, I had no idea what adventures were about to ensue with that little black backpack.
Together we’ve hiked in Denali National Park on my honeymoon, bagged the New England 4,000-footers (at least the ones I didn’t backpack over), and carted many pounds of gear for skiing, ice climbing, and various travels. In a decade of service it has been ignobly used as a seat on rocky summits, hauled through thick Maine spruce forests, stuffed into airplanes’ overhead compartments, and subjected to heavy hail, freezing rain, snow, and one flash flood.
I love this backpack. I do not say that lightly. I love it for every single outing we’ve gone on together and every place we’ve explored—from the familiar rocky peaks of New England to red rock canyons, Hawaiian beaches, and extremely wet Irish hills. I love it for every outdoor experience I’ve had with it and everything I’ve gained from those experiences.
Despite my pack’s overall stellar performance, by last year it became increasingly clear that it might be time for a new daypack. Signs of its impending demise included decreasing support from the back foam pad and hipbelt, the way the pack now sagged, its relatively heavy weight, and the ripped side pockets.
Normally I’m eager to try out new hiking gear and I don’t need a major excuse to do so. In fact, in the pack department I’ve acquired several internal frames, an ice climbing pack, and a couple hydration packs over the years. But for more than a year I resisted replacing that Kelty pack.
So it felt significant last week when I bought an Osprey Talon 22. Like the Kelty, the Talon’s streamlined profile appealed to my own stripped-down approach to things outdoors. It also offered several features that my older Kelty didn’t, like hipbelt pockets and a hydration slot, all at a lighter weight (1 lbs 9 oz for the Talon versus 2 lbs 4.3 oz for the Kelty).
I’m very excited about getting out on the trails with my new Talon. I can’t imagine what adventures we’ll soon have. But, replacing my Kelty pack signifies the end of an era. It was my first “real” daypack and ultimately it became much more to me than a way to carry my gear. It became a symbol of my own self-reliance and hundreds of memories.
I know it may sound a bit much to go on like this about one little pack. I’m sure, or at least I hope, that most of you have had packs you’ve liked that have taken you wonderful places. If you’re lucky you’ve had at least one you’ve loved. If so, share your favorite pack memories below.
The Kelty was my pack and you never forget your first good pack.
Fire Up the Yaks
Yesterday we got this e-mail autoreply from a Trailspace newsletter subscriber:
I am currently in a remote region of Nepal walking through the valleys of the Himalaya towards Everest Base Camp at 17,700 feet. When we stop at the next village I will ask a Sherpa if I can use his computer to check my email. I may or may not be able to reply depending on how fast his yaks can turn the generator. At any rate, I will no doubt read your correspondence sometime in the next few weeks, or months, but definitely before June.
Commute Another Way
Today starts Commute Another Way Week here in Maine, encouraging people to forgo their solo gas-guzzling car commutes and instead walk, bike, carpool, or try whatever energy-saving alternative moves them (kayak, rollerblades, ferry, train). Last year, when it was still Commute Another Way Day, 5,000 participants saved 3 tons of pollution, 4,600 gallons of gasoline, and $76,000 in commuting costs...in one day.
The now weeklong event is tied to the national Bike-to-Work Day (Friday, May 18) and Bike-to-Work Week (May 14-18), though many community events promote both biking and walking—the main idea being to curb your car.
Driving a car is the single most polluting thing that most of us do, according to the EPA. The obvious benefits of walking or biking instead are better health, less pollution and carbon emissions, and energy and money savings. But it’s also just more fun to start your day with a walk or bike ride.
Here at Trailspace my commute consists of walking to the office in my house. Commuting another way wasn't an option, but I've been working on reducing my still-too-high carbon footprint and wanted to participate. So, now that it’s spring (and the road's shoulder is no longer a large snowbank or thick mud), my son and I take the jog stroller whenever we visit our local library/playground. It’s more fun having him along for the ride (and more of a workout pushing his 32 pounds, plus "kid gear").
You may not be able to curb your car completely (though feel free to accept that challenge), but we can all find ways to drive less: hold off on that single errand until you're ready to do a bunch at once, run (literally) some of your errands, bike to school with your child. Find a bike month event near you and make walking and biking part of your lifestyle, not just a special day or week once a year.
Will my runs to our library alone stop global warming, air pollution, a national obesity crisis? No. But even though I can't do everything, in fact because I can't do everything, I still must do something.
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