The pure simplicity of walking

Simple and functional shelter

I am very excited about the upcoming backpacking trip to Virgin Falls with my Boy Scout troop this weekend. No backwoods travel captures my imagination like the adventure of backpacking. I guess it reveals me to be a geek, but I love paying attention to all the little details of each item in my kit. I love the freedom that comes with going light in the wild. The pure simplicity of lightweight backpacking speaks to me.

Total weight = 20 lbs.

Back to basics to feel more connected

Like many backpackers and outdoor enthusiasts, I have all the latest, hottest, must-have gear that a gear junkie would want. I have and use a pair of ultralight carbon fiber trekking poles, titanium cookware, clothing made out of the newest wonder fabric, and a tiny, featherweight, silnylon tarp shelter with bivy. The latest, greatest, and lightest gear is hard to resist. It promises to make my adventures more carefree and enjoyable.

The trouble is that as I spend more time in the woods, I find myself gravitating back to the old-fashioned, tried-and-true, traditional gear. When I head out the door, I almost always grab a wooden walking stick and leave the carbon fiber trekking poles in the closet. There’s just something about the feel of a simple wooden walking stick. I don’t know what it is, but it just feels “right.” Recently I picked up a wool jac shirt, and I find that I much prefer its feel to my more sophisticated Polartec® fleece jacket. The wool jacket may be a little heavier, but it seems to keep me warmer and does a much more effective job of blocking the wind. I also rest easy in the knowledge that it will not melt away at the first touch of a campfire spark. While we’re at it, why would anyone want to use a plastic line tensioner thingy for their tent’s guidelines when a good old-fashioned taut-line hitch is simpler and works better? Sometimes you just can’t beat the classics.

Come and Get It!
by Norman Rockwell

Who knows where this will lead? First thing you know I’ll be looking to trade in my trusty titanium “spork” for a plain old fork and spoon. Who knows, maybe I’ll even start cooking more on a campfire with real pots and pans. Trust me, the appeal of just adding boiling water to a foil pouch of freeze-dried food-like stuff loses its appeal after a few hundred meals. Give me real food cooked in a real pot over a real fire, and you’ll find me smiling.

Last November, on a weekend camping trip with our Boy Scout troop, I spent most of the weekend dressed in blue jeans and a cotton flannel shirt instead of my normal nylon zip-off pants and a shirt made of wonder wicking Capilene®. The weather was easy and I didn't have to worry about weight, but I realized by the end of the trip that I hadn't felt so relaxed and comfortable while camping in a long time.

Does all of this mean that I’ll give up the trekking poles, titanium cookware, and my silnylon shelter? Probably not. These ultralight wonders of engineering still have their place, and there’s certainly no virtue in merely being older or heavier. But there is a reason traditional gear is still around: It works, it works well, and it always will.

Perhaps I’m just becoming an old fuddy-duddy, but I think there’s something deeper here. I think there’s something intrinsically comforting about the feel of wood and wool that will never be matched by carbon fiber and polyethylene terephthalate. I don’t know what it is, but I also think there’s something naturally satisfying and connecting about cooking a meal from real ingredients over an open fire. And aren’t these feelings of contentment and connection why we go into the forest in the first place?

1960 Scouts Winter Camping

Perspectives on age: 52, 102, 300

Beth, Joshua, Hannah, & me.

Today was a day of reflection and thanksgiving for me. This is the 52nd anniversary of my birth, and I am a very grateful man. I feel fortunate to have great parents who have loved and nurtured me for more than half a century. I am grateful that I am married to an amazing & beautiful woman who understands my need to walk in wild places. I am convinced that our moving into this hollow a year ago is only because of her love and prayers. It is also because of Beth that I get to be the father of two great kids. Her devotion as a mother makes it fairly easy to be at least a decent dad. This may sound silly, but on more than one occasion I have said, "I can't believe I get to be me!"

On my honor

I also think it's pretty cool that I share a birthday with the Boy Scouts of America, which started in 1910. I guess it's only appropriate that I was born on the 50th anniversary of the BSA. I know that Scouting has improved my life in ways beyond what I'll ever even know, and I feel like I've got one of the greatest jobs in the world being the Scoutmaster of Troop 17. The goal of Scouting is to train young men to be adults who value citizenship, character, and fitness. I know for sure that it has made me a better man.

I am also grateful that our family gets to live in such a wondrous place. Every day I get to walk these woods and feel the peace and timelessness of the forest. Today I was able to measure an old beech that I believe is the oldest in the hollow. The amazing thing is that it escaped my notice until just the other day. It's on the side of a steep hill and obscured from the view of the trail I've been walking.

Ancient beech tree, probably over 300 years old

Because of the hill, measurements are difficult, but it appears likely that this beech tree is about 300 years old. It is hollow, so we can never know for sure, but the most conservative calculations place it at 279 years. A more generous measurement places the tree as 366 years old. This old man of the forest is no longer growing; its crown broke out and rotted away some time ago. Since the calculations are for still-growing trees in prime environments, it may be that the higher estimate is more correct. Whatever the exact age, this tree is clearly very old, and that gives me some perspective on turning 52. I wouldn't doubt it if this old tree is still here when I am gone from these woods.

If only trees could talk! What would this old sentinel of the forest tell us? Would this beech be more comfortable by its Cherokee name, gusv? How many thunderstorms has it endured? Fires? What's the deepest snow it has ever seen? What has changed and what has remained the same in this timeless forest?

I know that I will revisit this tree often. It is my hope that we will become friends, that I will grow to feel something of its sense of time, that I too will grow wise and strong, enduring storm and hardship, and enjoying the peace of the forest. Maybe one day I too will be the old man of the forest.