Reality checks, while necessary, are never an enjoyable aspect of life. The same was true when my wife and I decided to do our first “backpacking” trip. While it wasn’t a true backpacking experience, we learned some of the harsh realities of backpacking.

Our first outing was originally meant to be a real backpacking trip, although controlled and quite calculated. Initially, the plan was to go to a local metropark that had 2 different camp grounds which were connected by a 16 mile loop. As the camps were on opposite sides of the trail, it made for two 8 mile days of hiking. This seemed like an ideal practice run, until we learned that both camp grounds were completely booked.

With that option out of the picture, we instead went to Mohican State Park, which has walk in tent sites. While hiking would not be directly involved with the camping experience, we decided to treat it as close to one as possible, including loading up our packs, eating backpacking meals, and doing everything as we would otherwise, except bathrooms.

The first reality hit us quickly once we had stuffed everything we thought we needed and had bought meticulously, over the winter. After several attempts, we stuffed everything into our two bags, mine a 65L and my wife’s a 45L. The precision required to make it all fit was alarming. We even had to remove things, such as the sleeping pads, from their specially designed sleeves and rearranged it into our compression sacks with our quilts. Once we finally had it all comfortably packed, then came time to weigh the bags. Karly’s came in at a respectable 24.4 pounds while mine came in at 42.7. Clearly, we were doing something wrong.

With this new knowledge, we dumped basically everything out of the packs and looked for things that could go. Even after removing several items, my pack was only down 4 pounds. Granted, we were carrying extra layers for the cold, but the reality was that we were carrying a lot of stuff. I was still able to somewhat comfortably shoulder the pack and move, but the weight was obvious. I was never going to get this pack across 8-15 miles of trail a day.

Determined to still make this work, we decided to go ahead with the trip, since we were car camping anyway, and would do a short hike with the packs once we got to the park. This seemed like a perfectly logical plan, until we arrived at the campground with rain looming overhead, the first sprinkles splattering across the windshield of my truck. We opted to scrap the hike idea and set up camp.

The first night went fairly well, camp set up was smooth, and our first time filtering water was a complete success. We nestled into our new sleeping quilts and went to sleep to the soft patter of light rain. In the morning, the soft patter had grown into a dull roar. It was the kind of steady, long lasting rain that springs in Ohio were known for. With this development though came another reality that I personally had the hardest time accepting: camping can be boring sometimes. The rain was unceasing and unrelenting. Even with our canopy that we brought to put over the picnic table, there was no place dry to hide out except for the tent.

For years my wife and I had camped in a tent we named Jacques, christened because we referred to it as our chateau in the woods. It was a Coleman behemoth that could fit 6 with an attached screen room portion. By the time we filled it with our cooler, two plastic totes, and our double high queen sized air mattress, we were living in the lap of luxury minus electricity. Therefore, the significantly smaller size of the new, lighter, and decidedly better tent was a bit of a shock for me. The idea of being stuck in it all day made me a bit antsy as well. I knew this could be a potential reality, and I made a decision to get over it, but the first time wasn’t so great. I was bored, cramped, and tired of being wet. After a few hours I convinced Karly to go to the local library with me to dry out and get some hot chocolate. Lesson learned here: be sure to bring something to entertain ourselves, especially me, for days stuck inside.

Our last full day at camp was bright, sunny, and filled with the hiking we had been craving. It was a much welcome change to the rain and cold. That night though was a lesson in itself. First, we have always been very conscious of our food, garbage, and cooking supplies, particularly in the proper storage to prevent attracting animals. Normally, we never had a problem. That night though was different. That night a skunk, the cheekiest skunk I’ve ever seen I’ll add, decided our camp looked enticing. I was no more than 5 minutes from taking the trash to the dumpster when along sauntered the white striped varmint who then planted itself squarely in our garbage bag. We tried shining lights, shouting, tossing sticks in its area to attempt to scare it off and it was unfazed. Finally, we opted to just leave it alone, leaving the site entirely, for about 15 minutes. When we came back it was gone, so I quickly collected the garbage bag and disposed of it. It came back later but didn’t linger as it quickly lost interest in the lack of food.

Our final strike of reality came while we were sleeping that night. The temperatures dipped down to 36 degrees in the valley we occupied, but we were confident in our quilts, rated to 20 degrees, and the rest of the warm clothing we were wearing. We were wrong. We awoke at 2 in the morning, shivering in our beds. We quickly dressed, threw on our boots, and trudged to the truck to warm up. We then quickly decided we would be spending the night there, so I retrieved our quilts and returned. The rest of the night was not that restful, but it wasn’t life threatening at least. That’s when we set a temperature limit of 45 degrees, no colder. Not until we figure out more about what our bodies like to stay warm in those conditions.

All in all, the trip was a valuable experience. It taught us a tremendous amount about how unprepared we were. Since this trip we have made several changes, such as our ideal conditions, the inclusion of cards and books for passing time, a stove change and other paring of equipment to bring our pack weights way down. Our next planned trip is the real deal, and we look forward to sharing even more lessons from that. Until next time!