I Had No Idea Where I Was

Desolation Wilderness, CA · 2012 · First backpacking trip

The first time I went backpacking, I borrowed everything. The pack. The pants. The shirt. The knowledge of where we were going.

Above Echo Lake, 2012. That's my sleeping bag rolled on top of the pack — it didn't compress, so up it went.

That's me above Echo Lake on my first trip into the Sierra. The red pack belongs to my buddy. So do the pants and the shirt. My sleeping bag didn't pack down small, so I strapped it to the top and let it ride. I was making it work on a shoestring, and I had exactly one thing going for me: two friends who knew what they were doing.

Day 1 Just keep up

On the trail. My job was to keep up.

On the trail, I had one job: keep up. I didn't carry a map. I didn't know what topo lines meant. I didn't have GPS. When my buddies talked about which way to go, or debated where we actually were on the route, I had nothing to offer. I just kept walking and trusted that we'd end up somewhere worth the effort.

At some point, we had a conversation about our position on the trail. Someone pulled out a paper map and pointed. Everyone nodded. I nodded too. I had no idea what I was looking at.

Arrival We just… got there

I know now that this is American Lake. At the time I had no idea — I couldn't have found it on a map if you'd handed me one. We just arrived. Our friends led us there, and it was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. I stood at the edge of the water looking at it, completely aware that I had no idea how to get back to it on my own.

I was completely out of my depth, completely dependent on other people's knowledge—and I was completely hooked.

Camp Learning by doing it wrong

My full kit on the granite. I draped my food over a tree branch that night instead of doing a proper bear hang. The chipmunks found it by morning.

Camp that night reflected everything else about my preparation. I "hung" my food in a tree — not a bear hang, just draped over a branch and called it good. By morning the chipmunks had found it and helped themselves. I pitched my tent on the first flat-ish spot I could find.

I didn't know to look for a better spot. I didn't know what better looked like yet.

That night Through the screen

Then I crawled inside and looked out through the tent mesh. The lake. The ridgeline. The last light going flat across the granite. I had done nothing right on this trip, and I was looking at one of the most perfect views of my life.

That night I lay in my borrowed sleeping bag and knew I'd be back. But next time, I wanted to know where I was going.

The lesson You deserve to know where you are

Following someone else into the backcountry is a fine way to start. I'd recommend it. But there is a real difference between following and knowing. When you can't read the map, you can't have the conversation about where you are. You can't suggest a better campsite half a mile ahead. You can't recognize when the group has gone the wrong way. You're just along for the ride.

Every feature in this app came from a specific moment on a specific trail. The routing feature came from this trip. From being the guy who just kept walking and hoped for the best.

When you load your route into Backpackers Friend before you leave, you carry the map in your pocket. You can see where the next waypoint is. You know what terrain is two miles ahead. You can look at a lake and tell someone exactly what it's called. You can be the one with something to offer when the trail gets confusing.

You don't have to be an expert to know where you are. You just need your own map.