Backpacker Spring 2022

It was springtime on the Appalachian Trail, and a new season in my life as well. As a soon-to-be senior in college, I was feeling career pressure, so rather than doing something useful, like an internship, I shouldered my old-school Kelty in the Berkshires, heading, I hoped, for Grafton Notch in New Hampshire. It was not meant to be; our hiking party was snowed out on Killington Peak in Vermont. Best-laid plans and all that. But the disappointment isn’t what sticks with me now. What I remember is rounding the shoulder of a ridge in the early morning, emerging from late-winter shadows into a spring supernova. Because of the low sun and the angle of the trail at that moment, a million tiny birch leaves were suddently illuminated; it was a…

Wins for Wilderness Plants and animals can’t speak for themselves, so we must be their voice. When exploitation and careless legislation threaten the natural world, we have to take action to protect their victims. How rewarding it is, then, to acknowledge the success stories that prove the fight isn’t in vain. Check out these notable advances for the flora and fauna that lived here long before we showed up. • Padre Island National Seashore (“Texas Sea Turtles are Still Under Threat,” September/October 2021) received a $300,000 grant for sea turtle research. • The U.S. District Court for Alaska reinstated the EPA’s proposed determination of Bristol Bay as a protected area. The EPA has also promised a decision on the Pebble Mine and permanent protection for Bristol Bay, by May 2022 (“Just Keep Swimming,”…

THRU-HIKER / ACTIVIST Backpacker: Tell us about your brain. CGW: I have a rare brain disease called pseudotumor cerebri, which produces an increase of pressure in my brain. I had many, many surgeries to implant shunts, remove shunts, and try alternate shunts. None worked. Then, in 2014, a doctor recommended a neuromodulator—an implant that regulates the amount of spinal fluid in my brain. BP: And you manage to hike with that implant? CGW: I’m currently section-hiking the Great Western Loop in three parts. [Ed. note: The GWL is a 6,875-mile mash-up of the Pacific Crest, Pacific Northwest, Continental Divide, Grand Enchantment, and Arizona Trails.] I started last summer and hiked 1,200 miles, and now I’m preparing for part two. I’m section-hiking it so I can leave the trail and recharge my neurological implant every…

Bottles Are Best SHANNON DAVIS A water bottle has only one alleged downside, so I’ll start there. As we all know, there is no delivery hose with a pacifier at the end through which to hork water while multitasking on your phone. But rather than being a downside, I would argue that the lack of a hose is just one of the bottle’s unbeatable attributes. The naked hose of a sloppy-to-fill and difficult-to-repack reservoir freezes solid as soon as the mercury drops. And heat is no better: Three scorching sips precede lukewarm liters of water on every summer hike. How refreshing! An indestructible, easily filled, and svelte bottle, on the other hand, can be packed away and protected from the elements. They also come in insulated models to keep your liquids ice cold or…

I felt incredibly grateful—and lucky—to have shelter when Cyclone Ianos arrived unexpectedly with the dawn on my third day in the mountains of Greece, effectively pinning down everyone in the hut until it blew itself out twenty hours later. Outside the water-stained windows of Giosos Apostolidis, the highest mountain shelter in Greece, a thick gray haze obscured the cliff-hung views of Stefani, Mt. Olympus’s third-highest peak. The only choice was to sit by the old stove in the company of a few fellow adventurers and exchange mountain stories over tsipouro shots for what felt like an eternity. At least I had a successful summit story to tell. Olympus, the tallest peak in Greece at 9,570 feet, is better known for its mythological status than the magnificent limestone cliffs and mountain-ringed meadows…

At my campsite 7 miles in on the Big Boulder Trail in Idaho’s White Cloud Mountains, I woke up early to wander the expanses of Big Boulder Lake Basin, where gray stone cupped a string of tarns. I worked my way up the valley, passing five lakes nestled in flower-filled drainages beneath snowy ridgelines. With every step, I felt torn between stopping to savor the views and continuing to find out what lay over the next rise. The push-pull finally led me to Sapphire Lake. The payoff: panoramic views down the entire basin. Scouting the photo opportunities, I waited until clouds bubbled up to the east. Looking for the most dramatic shot, I waded into the lake’s outflow stream, brandishing my wide-angle lens. Mosquitos kept me company for the two…