Going It Alone

A smart backpacker does not go alone. There is safety in numbers. If one in the party gets in trouble, others are around to assist, and hike out for help if it should come to that.

But there are some who feel that going alone is such a good experience that it might be worth the risks taken.

The benefits of solo backpacking are hard to explain, but Freedom is a big one - to go wherever you want, to meander in a gorgeous valley if that is what you feel like, to climb to a high ridge just for the sunset view.

Beauty is best noticed when you are alone, because it is so subjective. There is noone to debate the pieces of nature your mind's eye sees as beautiful. All you see in that regard is accepted as such, with divine approval.

A solo backpacker must accept the danger inherent in going alone, and not take unnecessary risks. If things go bad you are on your own. Watch out for rocky slopes and loose footing. (I have stepped on wet logs and gone down so fast I didn't even have time to put my hands out). Don't overexert yourself to the point of weakness. Eat and drink often to stay nourished and hydrated. Above all keep your sleeping bag dry. The rule of backpacking is that you can withstand almost any kind of weather as long as you have a warm and dry sleeping bag.

Last Month I spent some time up in Montana. My dogs and I hiked eight miles up to a valley that gets so little use that the trail disappeared a mile and a half from the its head. I had to bushwack across country the rest of the way, which is not an easy thing to do with a full pack on.

But I definitely will never forget what it was like up there. Me and the dogs walked the banks of many lakes in the basin.

All had a deep blue color at mid day, from the bright high country sunshine. The wildflowers were still in full bloom.

Several had vivid reds and pinks and blues. The spruce on the edges of the lakes were tall and pyramidal. At one spot I cam across a dead tree branch that was scraping against the trunk of another, producing a life-like song of wood and wind.

Part of the time it was calm up there, part of the time it was windy. Backpack long enough in the mountains and you will grow accustomed to the wind. It is the voice of solitude in high places, the language of mountain loneliness. And I love it. Let me lie on my back on the body of a great mountain with my dogs at my side, in the comfort of my tent, and listen to the wind blowing outside as the stars appear in the black sky, and there is not much I lack.

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