"Hiking": What to carry
Years ago, I took a 5-day group hike in the Sierra Madres. The night before our start, each hiker packed her gear in her one permitted backpack. Then our guide, David, made everyone unpack and spread the contents on the floor. Each hiker had tucked one or more comfort objects among the socks and shorts: cigarettes, fragrance, chocolate, a tiny photo, Tiger Balm. Someone had pills I doubt were licit because they had Tinkerbelle on them.
"These are your habits and compulsions", he told us, "Leave them here. I want you to be completely without what you think 'gets you through'." Mine was, no surprise, a bracelet.
I think of that hike—which I both loved and hated—now, on a different kind of journey with millions of others. What do I need to 'get me through'?
A daily walk is my anchor. The essentials for that now that we're into the rainy season:
Left: A breathable, hooded rain jacket (Löle) with good pockets. Various colours.
Not for walking, but stashed in the house: a Go Bag, in case one of us faces a long wait in a testing facility or hospital. I learned how important a packed bag is shortly before the pandemic, when pain landed me in an ER on a Saturday evening, the worst possible time. All eventually went well, but I wish I'd been better equipped when, at 11 p.m.. the vending machines were broken, the cafeteria closed, and 17 persons were scheduled ahead of me.
We aren't living out of a backpack now. The goodies that David deemed superfluous are morale-boosters, and this is a long slog—we are allowed.
Left: Pearl and bead necklace from Kojima's "Wear Some Joy" series; these make me smile and are ideal with casual wear.
Centre: Cuticle oil comforts Purell-parched hands. I received a gift of Dr. Haushka's; a massage-type oil like sweet almond or grapeseed is effective too.
Right: A friend is making me a mask, but these resuable cotton prints are just so adorable. By Katrin Leblond; sold in packs of four, with one donated for every one sold.
So on we trudge. I miss seeing my family and communing in person with friends. Le Duc needs bike repair, and will be in line at his shop, but at least they're open. I cast a wary eye on the washing machine, rattling from deep inside. "Not now", I tell it. "Just keep chugging."
"These are your habits and compulsions", he told us, "Leave them here. I want you to be completely without what you think 'gets you through'." Mine was, no surprise, a bracelet.
I think of that hike—which I both loved and hated—now, on a different kind of journey with millions of others. What do I need to 'get me through'?
A daily walk is my anchor. The essentials for that now that we're into the rainy season:
Left: A breathable, hooded rain jacket (Löle) with good pockets. Various colours.
Top right: A light, washable silk scarf in spring hues, from PappuMama
Centre right: Mosiso water-repellant daypack with padded strap, big enough to hold a foldable umbrella
Bottom right: Bogs "Sweet Pea" rain bootsNot for walking, but stashed in the house: a Go Bag, in case one of us faces a long wait in a testing facility or hospital. I learned how important a packed bag is shortly before the pandemic, when pain landed me in an ER on a Saturday evening, the worst possible time. All eventually went well, but I wish I'd been better equipped when, at 11 p.m.. the vending machines were broken, the cafeteria closed, and 17 persons were scheduled ahead of me.
We aren't living out of a backpack now. The goodies that David deemed superfluous are morale-boosters, and this is a long slog—we are allowed.
Left: Pearl and bead necklace from Kojima's "Wear Some Joy" series; these make me smile and are ideal with casual wear.
Centre: Cuticle oil comforts Purell-parched hands. I received a gift of Dr. Haushka's; a massage-type oil like sweet almond or grapeseed is effective too.
Right: A friend is making me a mask, but these resuable cotton prints are just so adorable. By Katrin Leblond; sold in packs of four, with one donated for every one sold.
So on we trudge. I miss seeing my family and communing in person with friends. Le Duc needs bike repair, and will be in line at his shop, but at least they're open. I cast a wary eye on the washing machine, rattling from deep inside. "Not now", I tell it. "Just keep chugging."
Comments
Now the Lolë Piper comes in sizes from XXS to XXL. I found the XL a bit too close in the chest. The XXL will be large, but this is also useful for very cool rainy weather (UK, Netherlands etc) with a warm jacket underneath.
More important by far, my bicycle mechanic is also opening, and declaring his shop an essential service. Going there tomorrow, and will also doubtless face a queue.
I agree that your trail guide had a touch of hubris. :-)
lagatta and Carol: a mountain hike requires the absolute minimum weight, because what feels light grows heavy in altitude and no shade. David was an intense man, and also had dealt with inexperienced hikers, which we were.
I copied your Go Bag list to help me put one together, great idea.
BTW I hope everyone who is queuing for whatever reason is observing physical distancing, so important and so hard to do. All our instincts have been turned upside down.