Carry backup water
Water is obviously a critical element on any multi-day hike. After discovering that my back was soaked and my previously puncture-free water bladder was empty not long after stepping outdoors, I’ve learned that everything with H2O requires redundancy. It’s wise to carry both a bladder—like a Platypus for easy, while-hiking consumption—and a sturdier container, such as a Nalgene, just in case the bladder fails. But in all that failing, I’ve found many important answers to my end-trip question, which usually allows for important corrections on future adventures. Having redundancy in water treatment is vital, too. While I carry a Katadyn Steripen—a 90-second swirl of ultraviolet light kills the most common microscopic organisms and viruses—you can never put all your faith in the eternal success of electronic devices. So, I also take a back-up option: water purification tablets or a lightweight filter, like the Sawyer Squeeze. It’s also useful to carry items that extend water’s purpose. On my most recent multi-day hike—a punishing trail appropriately named the Devil’s Path, which includes five of the 35 Catskill High Peaks and minimal flat terrain—it was hard to stay hydrated. I started cramping up after all the vertical miles. Electrolyte tablets or powder packs generally take up very little backpack space and also give water some flavor and a hydrating boost. Approximate meals by laying out each breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack. If your preferred mid-hike bite is an energy bar and you know you’ll eat two per day, don’t double up and bring additional fuel-up snacks on top of the bars. (Keep in mind that electrolytic powders and tablets are pretty filling, as well.) Dehydrated meals are a good option, especially when you can add hot water straight to the bag and forgo some tableware. The tradeoff is that you’ll need a small backpacking stove to heat up that water. If you would prefer to limit weight or keep things simple for a two- or three-day hike, plan meals that don’t require a stove (or much refrigeration): breakfasts of overnight oats with dried fruits and seeds, for instance, and some long-steeped cold brew; lunches of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (which are always amazing on a hike); and a charcuterie platter for dinner (dried meats, hard cheeses, nice bread, and perhaps a small bag of olives for that extra touch).
Prepare for a lack of shelter
On a recent trip in the woods, my friend and I thought about spending the night at a lean-to at the halfway mark. But before departing, we also recalled a lesson from a 2005 trek, which took place during Hurricane Katrina. Sixteen years ago, we’d planned to reach a lean-to. But the storm had come north and taken out a bridge over a river, stranding us on the wrong side and forcing us to pitch a tent on very troubling ground: muddy, sloped, full of trees, and too many snakes looking for dry land. Since then, I’ve always hiked with a tent, though I have always struggled to find a nice compromise between functionality and weight. I’ve carried a single-person 5-pound tent and wished I’d invested in something lighter. I’ve carried something lighter and woke up soaked. This last time, I took about 2 pounds of a Big Agnes one-person shelter and avoided much of the weight and much of the elements. My friend, however, decided to skip the tent altogether, on account of those plans to reach a lean-to. But because of our missing-bridge experience 16 years earlier, he did have a backup plan. And it was a good thing, too, because confusion over where to meet at the trailhead meant we got a later-than-intended start and missed the lean-to. Again. Using his trekking poles, a survival poncho, six stakes, and some string, he built a shelter to cover his sleeping pad and bivy and stayed mostly dry despite some overnight rain. Moral: Don’t ever expect to reach the lean-to.
Wear the right clothing
After getting near hypothermic on my first multi-day hike in New Zealand, I always pack extra (non-cotton) gear. Materials like polyester, nylon, merino wool, and fleece are good alternatives. At a minimum, I stash away long underwear, a fleece (which doubles as my pillow), a clean shirt, fresh underwear, extra socks, and a beanie. It’s miserable trying to relax at the campsite in wet, sweaty clothes from the hike. (Make sure to pack all of these articles of clothing, along with your sleeping bag, in a waterproof bag in case of rain or river crossings.) I’ve yet to justify carrying a pair of Crocs—I just go barefoot at the site. Though I do get a bit jealous when I spot another hiker walking across the campsite with that sort of rubber-shoed ease.
