Still Fiddling Around

It’s not the load that weighs you down, it’s the way you carry it.

Lena Horne

I have had a backpack since I was eighteen years old, when I carried my brother’s old Boy Scout pack on the Wonderland Trail around Mt. Rainier. Obviously over the many years and miles that have followed I have replaced that old pack repeatedly and most of my other gear as well. You would think I would have it figured out by now: the right pack with the right gear at just the right weight. But equipment keeps improving and getting lighter, and I am a backpacker, so I just keep fiddling around with gear.

Most recently I have decided to swap out my heavy bear canister for an Ursack. If you are reading this for equipment ideas note that the heavy hard sided canisters are required in many locations, including the National Forest near my home, where grizzly bears are occasionally sited. Neither canister nor Ursack are one hundred per cent safe from bears. Reportedly there are places in the Adirondacks where bears have learned to twist open the lids and help themselves to the food supply, something I find hard to comprehend, as I have enough trouble opening a canister, now relying on my multitool for assistance. Perhaps bears in the Adirondacks carry these tools.

Most thru hikers will tell you that an Ursack is a better choice, not because they are safer but because they are substantially lighter and much easier to pack with their soft sides made of Kevlar. A bullet cannot penetrate your Ursack. Neither can a bear. The tricky part is tying it closed and securely anchoring it to a tree.

I tried an Ursack several years ago when I hiked the Pacific Northwest Trail and decided I did not trust my arthritic hands to tie secure knots. Midway through the trip I swapped it out for my dependable canister, which made packing up each morning more complicated, as a canister obviously does not compress in your pack. Six years later I am still fiddling around on the never ending quest to lighten my load. I brought out the Ursack again and have been practicing knots this past week.

If you drove by my house a couple of nights ago you may have seen the white sack in the front yard attached to the trunk of a small pine tree. I did not really expect a bear to come ambling by looking for food in my front yard, though they most certainly are around here. Instead I wanted to see how the sack and my new knot-tying skill would fare through the night, and if my food would be safe from rodents. In the morning all was well: the sack, the knots, my food undisturbed. I had even added a pound of bacon to the sack to entice hungry critters.

I then packed my food and gear for a trip I am planning for next week. When I stood on the scale I was delighted and surprised to find that I had lightened my load by two-and-a-half pounds, which felt like a great accomplishment. I have removed the Ursack and placed it in the refrigerator, so the cheese does not mold before my departure. The pack remains propped against a cabinet so that I see it every time I walk into the house. I am excited about my upcoming trip, and the pack reminds me that I may be an old lady with aches and pains, but I can still carry a pack alone into the wilderness, tie knots, and hang my food securely from bears.

It would seem that I am not alone in my fondness for gear and the associated fiddling it requires to figure it all out. My posts about gear are among my most well read, and always I receive comments offering suggestions and stories. Much as I cherish my old green plastic cup, I cherish each piece of gear that goes into my pack. The pack propped against the cabinet is a kind of monument, something to remember as I go about my daily life. I will try out the Ursack. . .still fiddling after all these years.