Backpacking–a quick explanation

Not everyone fully understands what I mean by ‘backpacking’, so before my report from the first 2016 trip, I thought I’d just jot a few things down that will bring the term to life and explain why I do, what I do. I appreciate my holidays aren’t necessarily the norm. (See 'About Me' for a simple explanation of the term. Found on the right-hand side of this blog.)

For me it’s all about travelling on foot through the landscape, experiencing the landscape/countryside. I also feel to some degree that I’m paying my respects to the countryside, just as I would never climb a hill/mountain and then say I’d conquered it. With daylight fading, I’ll find a place to camp, preferably somewhere fairly remote on a hillside. Come dawn, I’ll wake, view the new day before me and realise I’m in a beautiful place, come rain or shine. Able to enjoy the fresh feel of the morning and hopefully the sun’s warmth spreading across the landscape.

Hilleberg Akto tucked away

For a short while at least, my life is governed by nature, not technology. I go to sleep when it gets dark, I wake up when it gets light. The birds and most other creatures of the countryside join me. Or perhaps more accurately; I join them. There’s a distinct feeling that they at least know the right way to do things – in tune with nature.

There was a time when the journey was the adventure. Air travel, the internet and our fascination with speed have reduced the world in size. Backpacking helps restore a sense of proportion and reality to life. A long walk through a wilderness would be even better, but I take what I can get, generally Wales! It’s refreshing to feel in some small way that you’ve reclaimed some independence. You’re using your own skills and experience, and improving your fitness into the bargain. Backpacking reminds you of our place. Despite what technology gives us, we are but one of Earth’s creatures, still largely powerless when Mother Nature decides to flex its muscles.

Chilling out, enjoying the view

 You become aware of small things; some initials in an old stone wall, bits of metal protruding from the ground, a sign of industry now long since gone and forgotten. A small plant alone on a rock face, a solitary flower standing defiant, forever hopeful. Walking paths and track ways now rarely used, but judging from some of the sunken lanes, once busy with locals heading to and from work, or to market in the next village or town. Being a family historian means that such images may be a little more resonant and in focus; imagining my ancestors. They’re not just names on a computer database.

One benefit infrequently mentioned, is that you do get to meet some interesting people, whether it be in a local cafe, or out on the hillside. Listening to a mix of local history and perhaps a story or two, adds welcome flavour and helps bring the countryside alive. And perhaps it’s the fact that you’re walking long distance through their beloved (usually) countryside, that they seem more approachable and forthcoming – a mutual respect perhaps? I’m walking though it to experience it, whilst they are trying to look after it, acting as guardians. This human interaction, is an experience denied those cocooned against the countryside in their air-conditioned cars. That same countryside they feel they are visiting. I appreciate that in a thunderstorm, that same car may seem like the ideal place to be – perhaps?

You do pay a price of sorts for this type of experience. It’s called carrying all your needs on your back – hence backpacking. This includes all the essentials; tent, minimal air mattress, sleeping bag, maps, compass, coat, camera, toiletries etc. Including the weight of the rucksack, these constitute the base weight. In my case, this adds up to about 24-25lbs (Between 10-12kg) – a typical summer weight. I was doing quite well on the weight reduction front, until my photographic desires resulted in a new camera with interchangeable lenses. A new mobile phone didn’t help. Perhaps I’m becoming obsessive? Winter backpacking requires a few more essentials, primarily connected to warmth!

To this base weight is added food and water. Wild camping requires carrying a bit more in the way of food and water, especially now that many village shops and local pubs have closed. Water is the penalty. One litre weighs 2lbs (900g) – a bag of sugar in old money. In high mountains, water from streams may well be fit to drink as is, though I still treat it with tablets. Lower down, particularly in sheep country, I prefer to carry what I think I need. When out alone, often in areas not regularly walked, a backpacker’s sense of personal responsibility is increased, a factor depressingly being ignored by the mobile phone generation, who think Mountain Rescue volunteers have nothing better to do! [Allow me a little rant.]

Heading towards a place to wild camp

So, fully laden I may have about 30lbs (13.6kg) on my back. I don’t deny it comes as a bit of a shock, but you have to remember that I walk everyday. I walk everyday with a rucksack. Admittedly, not that heavy, but my body is used to the feeling. I’m frequently surprised how quickly my body gets used to the extra weight and once the first day is done, everything seems normal. It of course pays to have a rucksack fit for the purpose, packed correctly and to be wearing it properly (to be covered in a different post, specifically about gear). Consequently, the pace of travel is relatively slow. All the better to appreciate the sights, sounds and smells. To savoir.

There you go, a few random thoughts. At the end of the day, it’s a drug, and I admit my addiction. Exercise and enjoyment – what’s not to like? More people should experience it, though I’d be grateful if they found their own bit of countryside to explore – sorry!

PS. Nearly all wild camping in England and Wales takes place illegally. Technically you should have the permission of the land owner. For this reason, the backpacking maxim is; camp late, leave early. Where possible you should always aim to camp above the last fence/wall line. In other words, in open country. All that should show you’ve camped there is some flattened grass, quickly restored within a few hours of leaving.