Learn to identify birds in Florida, and make bird-watching even more enjoyable with Stan Tekiela’s famous Birds of Florida Field Guide. This book features 140 species of Florida birds organized by color for ease of use. Do you see a yellow bird and don’t know what it is? Go to the yellow section to find out.
This new edition includes more species, updated photographs and range maps, revised information, and even more of Stan’s expert insights.
Here are some amazing birds to watch out for:
The Crested Caracara is the largest member of the falcon family. The bird is often found in the open savanna or in tropical scrubland habitat.
The Crested Caracara mainly feeds on roadkill, often coursing (patrolling) at low elevations on roads at sunrise. It is very different from all other raptors in North America, using its legs to stalk and chase prey such as mice.
It is often seen in the company of vultures, but it glides on flat wings, unlike vultures in flight, which hold their wings upward in a semi-V shape. At night it roosts in trees.
One of Florida’s most dramatic-looking birds, commonly seen in the Everglades, is the Purple Gallinule. The bird uses its extremely long toes to walk on floating vegetation in freshwater and saltwater marshes, where it hunts for grasshoppers and other insects, seeds, and frogs. Family groups stay together, and the first brood sometimes helps raise the second. The Purple Gallinule moves out of northern Florida during winter and can be seen year-round in the southern part of the state. Individuals are known to wander well north of Florida.
Found in central Florida and nowhere else, the Scrub-Jay is well known for its cooperative breeding system in which the young from one year help to raise the young of the new year. The bird has a wide variety of raspy, hoarse calls and prefers a transitional scrubby habitat, usually of oak trees around 10 feet (3 m) tall with some openings. The Scrub-Jay is not a backyard bird, like the Blue Jay. Sadly, it is a threatened species and its population has declined up to 90% over the last century due to habitat loss.
So grab Birds of Florida Field Guide for your next birding adventure―to help ensure that you positively identify the many birds that you see.
About the author: Naturalist, wildlife photographer, and writer Stan Tekiela has written more than 175 field guides, nature books, children’s books, wildlife audio CDs, puzzles, and playing cards, presenting many species of birds, mammals, reptiles, amphibians, trees, wildflowers, and cacti in the United States. With a Bachelor of Science degree in Natural History from the University of Minnesota and as an active professional naturalist for more than 25 years, Stan studies and photographs wildlife throughout the United States and Canada. He has received various national and regional awards for his books and photographs.
Also a well-known columnist and radio personality, his syndicated column appears in more than 25 newspapers, and his wildlife programs are broadcast on a number of Midwest radio stations. Stan can be followed on Facebook and Twitter. He can be contacted via www.naturesmart.com.
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Little Washington presents 100 of the state’s tiniest towns. With populations under 2,000, these charming and unique locations dot the entire state―from Neah Bay along the Northwest coast to LaCrosse, a farming community in the eastern county of Whitman.
With full-color photographs, fun facts, and fascinating details about every locale, it’s almost as if you’re walking down Main Street, waving hello to folks who know all of their neighbors.
The selected locations help readers to appreciate the broader history of small-town life in Washington. Yet each featured town boasts a distinct narrative, as unique as the citizens who call these places home. These residents are innovators, hard workers, and―most of all―good people.
The locations range from quaint to historic, and they wonderfully represent the Evergreen State. Little Washington, written by Nicole Hardina, is for anyone who grew up in a small town and for everyone who takes pride in being called a Washingtonian. These towns may be small, but they have huge character!
Little Washington is Nicola Hardina’s attempt, 100 times over, to get to know the state she calls home. It’s part history, part travelogue, and a love letter to the Evergreen State.
About the author: Nicole Hardina has lived in Washington for more than 20 years, in towns big and small. Alaska-grown, she is a Seattle-based writer sharing an apartment with two cats, a guitar, and several overflowing bookcases. Her writing has appeared in Scope,Months to Years, Out There Outdoors, the Bellingham Review, Proximity, and elsewhere. She received a Grant for Artist Projects award from the Artist Trust in 2016 and is working on a memoir that is equal parts grief account and love letter to the Pacific Northwest. When not writing, she can be found on a flying trapeze or via her website, www.nicolehardina.com.
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Birding is big—and getting bigger. As topsy-turvy as this year has been, its events have shaken up enough routines to cause people to notice new things in the world, and that includes the birds flying around their homes.
Maybe the boom in new birders is simply tied to the fact that many of us are safe at home and looking out the windows at times when we’d normally be stuck in traffic commuting. Or maybe, even during quarantine, people have found that they want to get outside and, for social distancing reasons, have discovered new places to go. Birding fills that bill nicely.
Of course, it could be that in a digitally-engaged-always-on-Zoom world, people are finally waking up to what birders have always known: Birding is fun, and you’re guaranteed to see some amazing things. As a hobby, birding gets a lot right.
There’s a very low cost to get started.
There’s a low learning curve.
It works great for small groups.
It works just as well for individuals.
It takes you outside and away from screens.
Birders are introduced to more about the world around them.
It’s a hobby that you can participate in year-round.
These books for beginning birders also have information on birdseed and other bird foods. Not all birds eat the same kinds of foods, and you’ll be amazed at how the mix of birds in your yard changes once certain foods, feeders, bird houses, etc., are put into use. The guides also have information on bird nests and trees, as well as a few words on the habits and migration patterns of some of the birds in each region.
[Note: the following information was current as of August 1, 2020.]
The Bighorn Fire, named for the bighorn sheep that roam the Santa Catalina Mountains north of Tucson, began after a lightning strike hit those mountains on June 5th, 2020. Fanned by high winds and exacerbated by hot, dry weather often exceeding 100°F, the fire burned for almost 7 weeks, burning 119,978 acres (178.5 square miles) of forest. At its height, more than 1,000 firefighting personnel were involved in containing the blaze, and several helicopters and aircraft were used to dump water and fire-retardant slurry over remote areas that could not be reached by road.
The village of Summerhaven high on Mount Lemmon was evacuated, and many residents of homes in the Santa Catalina Foothills were also forced to leave. Fortunately, the fire crews were successful in saving the buildings and no lives were lost or major injuries reported. While some wildlife unfortunately did not survive, many animals were able to escape the fire. In fact, a herd of 14 bighorn sheep was seen strolling through a suburban neighborhood in late July.
The US Forest Service has closed all facilities in the Santa Catalinas until November 1st. With the annual monsoon rains expected through September, it is likely that the burned-out areas will not be able to absorb the rainfall and dangerous flash flooding will result. There have already been some flash floods of tarry water carrying blackened debris closing roads and potentially threatening homes. All trails have been closed until the flood danger is over and crews have inspected trails to assess if they are safe and passable.
This means that trails described in the Mount Lemmon, Sabino Canyon, and Santa Catalina Foothills sections of the book are closed. Also, Sabino Canyon and the Catalina State Park are closed until further notice. The Mount Lemmon Highway was temporarily closed during the fire but reopened on August 1st with restricted access to Summerhaven. Because parking space is limited, the road may close temporarily until space is available. Further information is available on the Pima County Sheriff’s Road Condition Report at (520) 547-7510.
Saguaro National Park is open. However, both visitor centers are closed until further notice.
I live 2 miles south of the evacuation zone in the Catalina Foothills. During most of June and into July, I could see the fire burning, huge clouds of smoke billowing, and firefighting helicopters and aircraft passing overhead. Often, I could smell the smoke. Most residents of Tucson and the surrounding communities experienced the same to a greater or lesser extent. 2020 has been an abnormal year for everyone, and Tucsonans got hit with a little bit extra.
When things improve in the fall, I will report back with details of which trails are reopened. Meanwhile, stay safe, stay hydrated, and please wear a mask in public places as mandated by Pima County and the city of Tucson.
About the Author: Rob Rachowiecki is the author of Five Star Hikes: Tucson, which focuses on 38 Spectacular Hikes around the Old Pueblo. He has authored hiking and climbing guides to Central America and the Central Andes, as well as travel guides to Peru, Ecuador, Costa Rica, and the American Southwest.
Although I grew up in Colorado, I did not grow up hiking with my dad. I really don’t know why this was the case, but at some point, he was a single dad of two with a full-time job, while I was a sassy teen with a part-time job and homework and friends and crushes. Hiking together just wasn’t part of our world.
Yet, when I set out to update 60 Hikes within 60 Miles of Denver and Boulder, my dad was one of the people I ended up doing some memorable hikes with through the seasons. It hadn’t occurred to me before to ask him to join me, honestly, and I was so pleased that he wanted to come along.
I’ve got a few tips for enjoying a hike with your dad (or stepdad or grandfather or uncle) as I share a few stories from our hikes.
01: Go ahead and extend the invitation. Dad saw my posts on social media about my first few hikes and called me to ask if he could hike with me. It wasn’t that I deliberately did not invite him—I wasn’t so organized to have a list of hiking partners—but I hadn’t thought of him yet. Maybe you think hiking isn’t something your father likes or he hasn’t done it before, but don’t let that stop you. If it’s new to him, start with something relatively flat with places to stop and rest along the way. Even if he says no, it will make him feel good to be included.
02: One interesting thing about being an adult child is that sometimes you forget you’re still someone’s kid. I was humbly reminded of this on a gorgeous hike outside of Fort Collins, Colorado, to the top of Greyrock Mountain where little lakes filled with talkative frogs dwell. The hike had been hotter than expected, so it felt longer; by the time we were scrambling up rocks near the top, my legs were wobbly. My 70-something father hoisted himself up, and I stood there looking at my hiking poles and looking at the rocks and back and forth. “You want me to take the poles?” he asked. “No, I’ve got it.” I said. Like he can’t see right through me! I finally abandoned the poles and gave him my hand and he half-pulled me up. You’re never too old to still need your dear old dad.
03: Remember to pack your sense of humor along with your water bottle and other hiking necessities. One of my earliest hikes for my book was not in the previous edition, so I did a little research and headed off to meet Dad on a late-summer afternoon. Like many trailheads, this one had several trail options, and I misread the distance. As we walked and talked, it became clear this hike would be longer than we expected—by about a mile, it turned out. “How long did you say this hike is?” he asked me as we began the loop back. I had to confess that I no longer knew, and this seemed hilarious to us. On our various hikes we laughed about all kinds of mishaps—from those in the past to our getting lost en route to the trailhead—and this made us want to go on another hike together.
04: Try new things together—from taking selfies during the hike to having a meal together after the hike. Even though you’re all grown up, you can still make memories together. Just because we didn’t spend my childhood going on lots of hikes didn’t mean we couldn’t start now. Now retired, my dad has the time to hit the trail and spend the next day recovering, if needed. We have so much to talk about as we hike, and we laugh a lot about past and present stories we share. Next thing you know, we’ll have new hiking experiences to talk about over Christmas dinner with more family members, and our relationship and history will just keep evolving through these shared moments.
05: Adjust your hiking style. If you’re a weekend warrior bagging peaks with your buddies, that’s cool, but that’s maybe not quite what your father can handle. There’s a lot to be said for slowing down and simply appreciating the company you’re with and the time outside. If it’s your dad who is the budding athlete while you’re a weekday desk jockey, ask him to go at your speed so you can hike together.
Out of the more than 70 hikes I did for my research, only a handful of those were with my dad, but those were some of the best ones, and I have indelible memories from each one. We were both awed by the beauty we saw, and we easily laughed off our foibles. It wasn’t a trip down memory lane, but a chance to keep building remembrances in our lives together.
No one would ever describe me as an athlete, so I am probably late to the game in appreciating my body’s functionality. Being blessed with good genes so that I’m generally healthy also means that I tend to take my body for granted.
The truth is, I long thought of my body in terms of how it looked, how it fit into clothes, or how it was judged by others (the weird mental woman’s work of developing opinions of my own body based on what others might think).
When I set out to update the guidebook60 Hikes within 60 Miles of Denver and Boulder in late 2018, I pictured myself getting buff and toned and looking better than ever as I traipsed along Colorado’s Front Range trails more than once a week. I look back on that and shake my head, thinking, “What foolishness.” Note that I was thinking how I would look, not feel.
It takes actually using your body to appreciate it rather than judge it. Otherwise, we might miss important messages from our bodies that can direct our wellness—or underestimate our abilities as we sit back and demand that the body just be as we wish.
A Scientific Americanarticle titled “We’ve Lost Touch with Our Bodies” looks at how a combination of medications, technology, and our modern culture have led to many problems in which we are increasingly disconnected from our own bodies. Without going into great detail, the concept is called interoception, and it’s about how our mind receives and responds to basic internal signals from the body such as hunger and thirst. When we numb ourselves through medicines, screens, and more, then the messages don’t get through.
I certainly wasn’t feeling out of touch with my body, but I do think that a full-time office job and daily commute meant my body—like so many others—had morphed into the shape of a dining room chair, and I didn’t give it much thought. As long as I wasn’t sick, made it to a yoga class and the gym every so often, and fit into my favorite jeans, there was nothing to think about, right?
Body image is a complex topic for both men and women, and it changes with age, not just size. Psychology Today did extensive surveys on body image over the decades and concluded that, despite discontent with their bodies, people would rather be assessed for what they do, not how they look.
Somewhere on about hike 30-something in the middle of one of the snowiest Colorado winters in years, I began to think differently about my body, as I needed more energy and muscle to get from trailhead to peak and back, over and over again. I forgot all about how my body looked or might look in the near future and instead focused on what it needed from me in terms of types of food, hydration, and rest. My goal was essentially the same—complete all 60 hikes by deadline—but how my pants fit was no longer on my mind.
I developed a new respect for the hard work my body was doing as I tackled trails with thousands of feet of elevation gain in just a few miles, pushed myself to get up pre-dawn to be on the trail, and then asked my body to do it all again the next day or a couple of days later. I became grateful to my body for making it possible for me to meet my goals, and I showed this by making sure I ate protein-rich foods along with fresh vegetables and fruit, had enough snacks and water with me on each hike, and soaked in plenty of Epsom salts when I got home.
I started off as a slow hiker, and I finished as a slow hiker. My pants fit exactly the same on my last hike as my first. And I was thrilled with my body!
I learned that what matters is how you feel, not how you look.
In the post I said, “The more prepared I was, the more enjoyable the experience.” By this I meant that I had water, snacks, hand warmers, a trail map, bandages, sunscreen, a hat, and so on. I found that when I took a little time to research what conditions I might expect, what the elevation gain would be, and other basics that would affect how long I would be out (how much food and water I needed, for example) that I could enjoy myself more.
Yet in a world of Facebook groups for all kinds of hikers and apps to show how crowded the parking lots are or where hikers can share photos from the trail the day before, some of the spontaneous fun of heading out in nature can be lost.
Here’s a little story in which good preparation led me to an unexpected adventure. I wanted to get in a hike on a later summer afternoon (okay, maybe it was more like early evening). My husband said, “You’re going to need a flashlight or a headlamp,” as I left the house. I said, “Really? OK, I’ll throw one in.” When the last 2 miles of my 6-mile hike were in the dark, I was very glad to have that flashlight—and I have never hiked without it since. Because I had a flashlight, I safely hiked in the light of the moon!
I recently read a query in a Facebook group for hikers in which someone described everything he had learned about a specific trail, but he just wanted to know what else to expect. Who knows? Maybe you’ll hear a hummingbird zip past your head, see a deer grazing in the trees, glimpse a moose wandering by, pick up the scent of a new flower in bloom, or watch the morning light hitting the rock just so as a snake slithers over it. No two people will have the same hike from one day to the next. Part of the joy of being in nature is the unexpected. The adventure of hiking lies in what doesn’t make it onto Instagram—those moments that take you by surprise in spite of your planning.
I can think of so many hiking experiences that make me laugh because things didn’t go as planned. There was a group hike in Eldorado Canyon State Park where the wind just wouldn’t let up, and at one point I was holding onto a tree to keep steady! I was prepared with a warm coat with a hood, but the adventure was in finding ways to block the wind in a group as we kept moving. Another time I went to the wrong trailhead, completed a hike, realized my mistake, found the “right” trailhead, and did that hike too. Then I decided that I liked the “wrong” hike better and put that one in my book instead.
It’s not that a little insight isn’t helpful, but it’s OK to learn from just trying, even if you have to make more than one attempt. Those accumulated experiences become part of your preparation. In doing research for my book, I found that, much like restaurant review sites, hiking reviews can be a bit misleading if not inaccurate and can therefore create missed opportunities for others. In doing some basic research for the land agency website for a trail, I found that people had been leaving reviews for the wrong trail, in one instance.
Life is made up of stories. A year or so of hiking by myself, with family, and with friends has resulted in a patchwork quilt of tales to tell and reminisce over together—not a string of hikes just like someone else’s.
Hit the trail with some preparation, but keep your eyes wide open for the unexpected joys of being outdoors.
About the Author
Mindy Sink is the author of 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles: Denver and Boulder and Walking Denver, which her daughter, Sophie Seymour, contributed to. She contributes regularly to The Denver Post, Colorado Parent, and other publications. Before becoming a guidebook author, Mindy worked for The New York Times Rocky Mountain Bureau, covering regional topics. Mindy also works in healthcare communications. She lives in Denver with her husband, Mike Seymour; their daughter, Sophie; and the family’s non-hiking cat, Marvel.
As I was updating the book 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles: Denver and Boulder, I found myself learning new things—about myself and hiking. I hit the trails mostly on weekends to complete more than 60 hikes for the book in every season. Here are my takeaways that seem relevant to life, both off and on the trail:
1. Meditation doesn’t require sitting still.
I have never been able to meditate. Finding quiet time to sit in a comfortable position and let my mind go still leads to what yoga teachers call “monkey brain.” That is, my thoughts are racing around in my mind. Yet without trying at all, my thoughts would quiet on the trail. In fact, I would mentally plan in advance what problem or issue in my life to think through while on the trail. Then I would arrive, get my backpack ready, set my GPS, and start off… and nothing. By the time I returned to the trailhead after a few miles I felt calmer and sometimes realized that what I had thought was a problem really wasn’t. Om.
2. Be grateful. Or, I like my body.
I recently read an article about how we—as humans—are all increasingly out of touch with our bodies. Essentially what the author was saying is that we aren’t using our bodies, and when there is a problem, there’s a pill to take, so the true cause of a pain or other symptom is often ignored. Add to that all of the body judgment so many of us have about ourselves or others. Rather than just being awed at what our bodies can do, we push them to have certain shapes or skills (or even harm them). When I was signing on to research and write my guidebook, I boasted to my editor, “Imagine the shape I’ll be in!” How embarrassing! Who cares? By trail 30-something I was just grateful to my body for getting me up the sides of mountains and safely back to the trailhead. I stopped caring about my shape and began treating my body with more kindness and appreciation for the hard work it was doing.
3. It’s probably not personal.
I like hiking alone, but I also like to hike with family and friends. I think it’s safer to hike with companions. When I started doing my guidebook research and posting pictures on social media, people came out of the woodwork asking if they could join me. Family, close friends, people I hadn’t seen in years, all asked to hike. “Yes!” I said to every single one. Then many of these same people would vanish mid-text. There was a moment where it bugged me, but as these good intentions piled up, I found my sense of humor and empathy. For one thing, I barely had time to join me on the trail! At any moment, people might be busy with family or work or find themselves ill or not up for a hike in winter, and it doesn’t matter. Instead I saw this as a chance to appreciate that they’d reached out in the first place. (Sometimes it turned out to be a good thing I was hiking alone anyway, as I would get a little lost or discover poor conditions; it was a relief to not feel responsible for another person on the trail.)
4. You got this. Or, believe in you.
Given my deadline, as well as travel plans in another country during peak hiking season, work, family, and just life, I had friends say, “You can’t do it.” Not in a mean way, but in a math way. Ouch! But it’s not personal—and I had a deadline—so I just did the work. Yes, at times things felt out of balance in my life, but it was finite; after some time on the trail, my mind felt calmer, so I wasn’t worried. I honestly didn’t know if I could do it; I just kept hiking and doing the math and moving forward with my deadline/goal in mind.
5. A little stubbornness goes a long way.
I’ve always been a stubborn person, for better or for worse. If you’re into the zodiac, I’m an Aries through and through. There were many times on trails where I was tired or confused or fed up or not sure if I could do it, and I just kept going. For example, I hiked a mile on the wrong trail, turned around to the trailhead and started over, making my 8.5-mile hike a 10.5-mile hike one day. To be sure, this was no Cheryl Strayed moment on the Pacific Crest Trail, just a lady less than an hour’s drive from a comfortable home and a hot meal who was feeling unsure and weary and time-starved. Yet in so many ways in life this lesson can serve as a reminder to push through bouts of discomfort to achieve a goal.
6. Connect where and when possible. (Say hi to your fellow travelers.)
There’s something about being among
ancient, massive trees and rocks to make a person feel small in the universe. I
ended up doing many hikes in the off-season, and this meant seeing fewer hikers
on trails than I would have in the summer months. I would get so excited to see
them, ask about trail conditions, and share a laugh about something or other.
How amazing to connect with other people! Now that we are so often looking at
our little devices, hearing them unexpectedly ping in the wilderness (I used an
app on my phone for my GPS), human-to-human connection feels increasingly rare
and therefore special when it happens.
7. Preparation is vital.
I think I’m in the majority when I say planning is something I’m planning to get to… eventually. When it came to hiking every weekend, as opposed to just once in a while, I had to train myself to get my backpack prepared ahead of time, to research what I was getting into, to call ahead and ask about possible closures or trail conditions, to maybe buy additional gear, and so much more. The more prepared I was, the more enjoyable the experience—even in less-than-ideal conditions at times.
8. Stopping is just as important as going.
Given my schedule, I often wanted to just get to the end of the trail. Not so fast there! What’s the point if I don’t pause to see where I am? Gosh, the views. So often I was hiking in a place I had driven by my whole life, or even hiked before, but I was seeing it with new eyes, from a different perspective. Yes, I was being mindful. Remember to pause, look around, take a deep breath, and have a moment of gratitude and awareness for being in this time and place.
9. Love begins with the self. Or, keep hydrating.
It’s nice to be pampered and taken care of,
and I certainly earned some massages. Yet caring starts on the trail—not after—with
doing what your body needs in terms of drinking plenty of water, eating
nutritious snacks, and taking a break as opposed to pushing on to the summit or
rushing to the finish. When we fill our own cup, so to speak, we can be there
for others, too, and research shows that giving to others simply makes us feel
good. When I had to plan my own refueling, it reminded me to be kind to myself,
to take care of me, and, in that way, I became more able to spread kindness to
others I met along the way.
10. It’s the little things.
I didn’t do a thru-hike (or even a full segment of a thru-hike!) or climb a famous mountain or do anything extraordinary, but I did something that challenged me and I’m better for it. It wasn’t about competing or punishing my body; it was about doing something that was fun and finding ways to share it with others. None of us has to be the best, to have the most likes or follows or sponsors; we just get to improve daily and with each new hike.
About the Author
Mindy Sink is the author of 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles: Denver and Boulder and Walking Denver, which her daughter, Sophie Seymour, contributed to. She contributes regularly to The Denver Post, Colorado Parent, and other publications. Before becoming a guidebook author, Mindy worked for The New York Times Rocky Mountain Bureau, covering regional topics. Mindy also works in healthcare communications. She lives in Denver with her husband, Mike Seymour; their daughter, Sophie; and the family’s non-hiking cat, Marvel.
“Carry as little as possible but choose that little with care.” ~ Earl Schafer
I have an obsession with pack weight. I got it early in my backpacking days while carrying a base-weight that must have been in the 45-pound range. After a few trips with a 3-pound sleeping bag, 4-pound pack, heavy stove, heavy leather boots, and lots of extra stuff I didn’t need, I began to make different choices when it was possible to replace or eliminate something. I have an older post, “Preparing for Multi-Day Backpacking Trips,” at ozarkmountainhiker.com that was well received. For this post, I’m focusing specifically on pack weight.
Over the last 20 years and after a lot of trial and error, I’m carrying a base-weight of 9–10 pounds when I’m using my lightest options. Base-weight is your pack-weight before adding food and water. The photo above shows my pack with food for two nights and water included.
Going lighter is all about personal choices. I’m sharing the following, not because this is how it should be done, but to give ideas and possibilities for going lighter. If you have a trick that works for you, please share with me through the contact page. I love to pick up good ideas from readers. I will mention brand names for clarity in this post, but I’m not endorsing any company.
The big three areas for discussion are Sleep System, Shelter, and the Pack. Reducing weight here has the most significant impact on pack weight.
1. Sleep System: Rest is essential to your trip’s success, so this is no place to skimp on cost—but a good down quilt is less than a sleeping bag. I use an Enlightened Equipment 20-degree down quilt and a silk bag liner for a weight of about 1 lb. 4 oz. Twenty-degree sleeping bags weigh around 2 lbs. 6 oz. to over 3 pounds.
I’ve used air sleeping pads with good results except for the occasional leak. There are lighter and more rugged options.
If I’m going my lightest, I prefer a Therm-a-Rest foam pad with two extra foam cutouts to avoid cold spots where most of my weight makes contact. I’m a side sleeper, so one extra 6×8-inch pad goes under my hipbone, and the other goes under my shoulder. I cut the two extra pieces from a full-sized foam pad to make it a 2/3 pad after cutting another piece for Hiker-dog. She loves her foam sleeping pad! In cold weather, I place my pack under my feet to get up off the ground.
For me, a pillow is essential. I now use a Platypus water pouch filled with air inside a small pillowcase along with extra clothes. During the day and in camp, I use the pouch to store extra water. If there’s water in the pouch in the evening, I pour it into my cookpot for the next morning’s eggs and coffee. I like double-use items.
2. Shelter: There are lots of options here, and I’ve tried several over the years. Right now, I’m using a Big Agnes Silver Spur 2-person tent (2 lbs. 12 oz.) when I expect cold temperatures and want to keep Hiker-dog in the tent with me. When I want to go my lightest, I use a ZPacks tarp. I love the tarp because it’s flexible, lightweight, and I can feel close to my surroundings. If it’s bug season, I pitch a screened Enlightened Equipment bivy sack under the tarp. I sometimes use a piece of plastic under the foam pad in non-bug season. A backpacking tent can easily weigh 4 lbs. The tarp, stakes, and plastic ground cloth add up to 16 oz. With a bivy sack, it’s 21 oz.
3 The Pack: On the John Muir Trail and for many Ozarks trips, I use my Granite Gear Crown 60 pack. I love that pack, and it handles a bear canister well. If I’m going my lightest and a bear canister isn’t required, I use a ZPacks Nero that is super light.
Packing the pack (my way) – Place all items that must remain dry in a trash compactor bag. Both the Zpacks and Crown 60 packs area simple tubes. Pockets, compartments, and zippers are nice but add weight.
The foam sleeping pad is placed against the pack walls, adding structure to the lightweight floppy pack. I press the tarp into the bottom so any moisture will move down from there. Then I press the trash compactor bag into the tube containing the down quilt, silk sleeping bag liner, and extra clothes. Lastly, I pack the food/kitchen bag.
Lightweight hacks: Here are a few tricks I’ve picked up from other hikers and reading:
Hydrating light: If I use a filter, it’s the Sawyer mini squeeze filter. If the water is cloudy, I sometimes pre-filter with my bandana and then the Sawyer filter. If I’m going my lightest, I use Aquamira water treatment drops, rebottled in small plastic bottles. I prefer the drops and leaving the filter in the bag or at home. Sometimes I carry both drops and a Sawyer, depending on what I expect to find out there.
Cooking light: Sometimes, I cook on a fire if there’s already a fire ring and it’s a high-impact campsite, but the stove I carry is a titanium Esbit stove with two fuel cubes for each day. I have a pocket-rocket type of stove that works well, and sometimes I carry that, but it’s heavier, and I despise giving pack space to fuel canisters. I have a Jetboil and would use it for a large group where we wanted to boil lots of water quickly without having a bunch of stoves. A Jetboil could save weight for a group, but it’s heavy for an individual. One of my main trail friends uses a Whisperlite, and he’s masterful with it, but it is a slightly heavier option.
My cookpot (Toaks 550 ml) and cup are titanium. Some prefer a larger pot, but this one boils water for coffee and scrambled eggs, although it does get close to the rim with evening meals. I made a pot cozy using foam and Gorilla Glue that extends the cooking time and keeps the food warm while I eat it. I love coffee and have a somewhat unique coffee recipe. I sometimes wish my mug were bigger, but it fits nicely inside my pot.
Food is generally heavy. I rarely use commercial freeze-dried meals, preferring to pack my own using soups, instant potatoes, and Knorr meals as a base. Add dehydrated vegetables and freeze-dried chicken to make good meals with less packaging and weight. I carry trash in an empty coffee bag. It’s light, durable, and I don’t have to look at my trash as with a plastic bag.
Trekking poles: Hiking poles aren’t a necessity, but I find they improve my stability, especially going downhill. They can also serve a dual purpose as tarp poles. Lightweight and simple are my favorite features. I don’t care for fancy adjustments/shock absorbers; I sometimes see hikers playing with their stick lengths to the point of frustration because of tricky mechanisms. I use Black Diamond Distance Z trekking poles (non-adjustable).
Shoes and socks: I wear lightweight, low-top hiking shoes or trail running shoes. I use crocs for creek crossing and around camp. I carry two pairs of Darn Tough socks with one pair on my feet and a backup pair in my pack. Everything adds up, so wearing lightweight clothes makes a difference in the weight your knees and feet will feel on the trail.
Personal items: What do I really need? I used to tweak around with toothbrushes, trying to lower the weight. I settled on tooth powder for a while instead of toothpaste. Now I just carry a roll of floss; that’s all. I floss each evening. Each morning I snap off a green twig and “brush” my teeth while walking along. After a few minutes, my teeth feel as clean as ever.
Luxury item: Give yourself one. It might be an iPod or some other item that adds to your enjoyment. I love my double-wall titanium mug, but it would qualify as a luxury item, so it never makes backpacking trips. My favorite luxury item is a package of wet-wipes. It feels good to clean up before sleeping, keeps the silk bag liner cleaner, and keeps down the stink.
Speaking of stink…. proper pooping is important! There’s a whole book on the subject! For the Ozarks, bury your business away from the trail or water, and pack out any toilet paper. I like to use leaves when possible to reduce the use of toilet paper, although I still carry a little. I like what Ultralight Backpackin’ Tips by Mike Clelland has on this subject and many more.
Life is all about nuanced choices, and the same is true of packing light. Experimenting with your gear can be fun and add to the anticipation of a trip, or it can drive you crazy and annoy those around you.
I think maybe “closet ultra-light backpacker” is the way to go. Quietly make decisions that reduce your pack weight, but don’t initiate conversations about subtle differences between the Toaks titanium cookpot over the MSR Titan Camping Kettle. It is better to have campfire conversations about the trail, scenery, and life.
Enjoy your light pack and the places your happy feet will take you!
Highway 34 roughly follows the Big Thompson River from Fort Collins to Estes Park. We enjoyed this beautiful drive and finally found a nice spot to pull off next to the river. I wanted to go wading but remembered the power of rivers whose source is snowmelt from surrounding mountains. I reconsidered and decided it would be embarrassing to be washed away by a river I didn’t even need to cross.
Estes Park is always a busy place in the summer. We wanted to explore downtown, but finding a parking spot would be challenging. We decided to pick up a few snacks at a grocery store and didn’t feel guilty walking to town when we left the store.
We’re naturally attracted to independent stores, so Macdonald Bookshop was a treat. It opened in the Macdonald’s living room in 1928 and was operated by Jessica Macdonald until 1957. Paula Steige, a third-generation Macdonald, is the current owner.
I wanted to revisit a restaurant from a backpacking trip, so we stopped into Poppy’s Pizza & Grill for a light lunch. So good, we returned to the same place for dinner.
One of our favorite stores carried custom games and puzzles. The owner was very entertaining, and his wife was a teacher like us, so we had some interesting conversations.
We made two drives with some day hiking into Rocky Mountain National Park. Trail Ridge Road is a drive best done in the morning before the threat of thunderstorms becomes an issue. Both trips through were beautiful. On the second morning out, we were surprised that temperatures dipped down to 24 degrees.
We noticed this Steller’s Jay on a stop early in the drive while still at lower elevations. We kept scanning the scenes for wildlife, but the only elk we saw were in downtown Estes Park.
Amazing what a few hundred feet can mean! We enjoyed driving up through changing habitats and then above the tree line where snow was slowly melting.
The Alpine Visitor Center (elevation 11,796 feet) was still closed when we were there in early July. Becca was a good sport and posed in front of the snowdrift showing part of the roof, reinforced with large timbers to withstand the high elevation conditions.
This was a favorite photo taken close to Trail Ridge Road as we returned from an overlook and short visit with marmots. These little guys are built for the winter conditions. Don’t leave you pack sitting around unattended though. I’ve seen them make off with trail snacks. They’re bold.
After a stop at the Continental divide, we descended into the Grand Lake area. It’s usually less crowded than Estes Park. The Visitor Center with its hiking trail is a great stop. I was pleased to see a Menasha Ridge Press guidebook and added a copy to my collection for future planning. Kim Lipker is a prolific author, and this is a great little book. I now have a new contact for information about trail conditions in the Rocky Mountain region.
One of the great benefits from authoring Five Star Trails: The Ozarks has been making contact with other authors. Great resources for future travels!
We enjoyed the trail that begins at the Grand Lake Visitors Center parking lot. I’m pretty sure this is where Becca made the unauthorized collection of wildlife. I teased her about the importance of leaving things in the woods, especially when visiting a national park. She was pleased when I removed the Rocky Mountain Tick, her souvenir from our hike. It’s important to remove ticks as early as possible in case they’re carrying any tickborne diseases. Reading the list of possibilities will give you the heebie-jeebies.
On this trip out west, we repeatedly felt the desire to explore more deeply and spend more time in every location. One of the best indicators of a trip is that it leaves you wanting more. This trip definitely did that for us. We’ll be back!