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Home > Trip Reports > Backpacking with kids: The rewards, the challenges
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Backpacking with kids: The rewards, the challenges
July 2007
Sequoia National Park , CA
posted by 4hikin
“Walk like a duck!”
I tilted my head back to see from beneath my hat brim and up the steep slope only to watch my son disappear behind a giant boulder. I took his advice; turning my feet into the herringbone position, as if I were ascending a snowslope with Nordic skis.
But I wasn’t. I was working my way up Sawtooth Peak’s south flank, which is basically the surface of an ocean beach but vertical and with a lot less water. This prominent landmark stands sentry over the Mineral King valley in Sequoia National Park.
Our family of four – including our two teenagers, ages 18 and 17 – had been on this mountain many times before, but had always avoided ascending it with fully-loaded backpacks. But here we were, on our first day of a nine-day trip, and at this point all separated along this off-trail portion, each hiking at our own pace and selecting routes that would get us to the top of the steep ridge, then across to Glacier Pass.
As I put the duck walk into practice and began making steady progress in hauling my 55-pound pack toward the ridge’s backbone, I thought back on our previous backpacking trips that had, over our children’s lifetimes, made it possible to get us to where we were today. This journey was bittersweet for me as it very possibly could be our last together since our children are now grown and may soon choose to spend their summer vacations elsewhere.
I realized that the four of us had never backpacked without each other. We started together in 1996 and every year except for one have taken at least one extended trip.
Together, we learned the ins and outs of backpacking ever since our debut outing, a two-night trip that consisted of a 3.5-mile trek to a lake that immediately immersed us into the joys and challenges of the sport. Our memories include a mosquito attack that enabled us to work our way cross-country to our destination at a surprisingly quick pace and a two-hour thunderstorm that rolled through as we took refuge in our brand-new tent and spent the afternoon reading aloud from a paperback novel.
That evening was spent helping the kids to fish, then savoring the gourmet supper that featured the catch of the day seasoned with wild onions and sage. The clouds went away as quickly as they had come, and a spectacular alpenglow just before dark turned the surrounding granite cliffs to hues of yellow, then orange and red.
A hike the next day took us to an upper lake where we enjoyed a picnic lunch after dunking ourselves several times in the ice-cold water and basking on sun-drenched boulders.
Our subsequent trips have all been variations of the above, where we have been totally at the mercy of nature and, concurrently, awestruck by nature. The trips grew longer as we streamlined our gear and the kids became strong enough to carry more than just a water bottle and a whistle.
As I looked above me now, I could see a miniscule outline of Johnnie, 17 – this year carrying 40 pounds – nearing the ridgetop. I smiled as I recalled all the times I’ve had this view of him. More often than not, he’s the one who reaches the top of whatever we are climbing first.
Down below on the sandy slope, I watched Jennie 18, working her way determinedly up the trail. Steady and strong; the way she hikes is also how she approaches life.
I was raised outside in remote places every summer of my childhood because my dad was a seasonal ranger for the National Park Service. By the time I became a parent, I had the mountains in my blood and the benefit of hindsight to know that children can actually survive a summer without television or telephone and be the better for it.
I was determined that my children would have that same experience. And as computers, cell phones, and video games began to invade our household, I resolved that we would unplug the electronic distractions, if not for an entire summer at least for a week or two each year, and instead tune into the natural world.
Continuing my trudge up the mountain, I contemplated what it takes to plan a “vacation” like this. At times, the preparations are overwhelming because the planning takes significantly longer than the actual trip.
Here is what I’ve learned during the past 12 years:
First of all, after the initial investment of gear and clothing, backpacking is an inexpensive vacation. But there is some effort involved in all aspects.
Conditioning is important and, if a fitness routine is not in place year-round, then regular workouts and dayhikes should be started several months in advance of hoisting that pack. As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed that I have to be in peak shape to really enjoy a vacation that entails carrying a house on my back while tackling some of the steepest peaks and passes in the Sierra day after day.
Being fit and acclimatized is especially important when hiking with young ‘uns because the strongest member of the team needs to be Mom or Dad, so when the trail becomes too steep, the mosquitoes too thick, the weather too stormy, or the pack too heavy, the parents can ease the burden, handle any situation that arises, and keep everybody upbeat and moving along safely and somewhat on schedule.
That brings us to the route, which must be planned meticulously. Once a trip is selected, factor mileage with the number of days minus layover days desired to make sure the trip is feasible within the time constraints.
Also to be considered in route selection is the transportation to and from the trailhead(s), the time of year that travel is planned to pre-estimate the level of snow and waterways, and the daily vertical elevation gain. Then each day’s approximate mileage should be determined based on everybody’s expertise, fitness, and pack weight, and campsites conditionally selected.
Next is food preparation. This also must be started a couple of months in advance. There is no room for error in the planning of meals and snacks, and while a person hiking solo may be content with three meals a day of energy bars, kids need more sustenance and will work with anticipation toward the day’s destinations if knowing a scrumptious meal awaits.
Then there is the gear to check, repair, or upgrade. And the clothing, which should be light and packable, but adequate for every type of weather situation that could possibly arise.
When all of the above is accomplished, it’s time to pack. While planning a wilderness trip with children, there are always anxious moments when strategically placing the items into the various backpacks, because the kids are completely entrusting their parents to have all the gear necessary for survival and there are no second chances if a detail is overlooked or an item forgotten.
An additional curve was added to this equation when, in 1999, our son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. Since then, an extra three to five pounds of supplies are packed, some of which are daily necessities and others that ensure we are ready for any emergency associated with this disease that could possibly arise.
With relief I reach the top of the treeless ridge where it is now a mostly level trek to Glacier Pass. Even though he is nowhere to be seen, I see Johnnie’s tracks in the sand and begin to follow them.
This brings to mind a concern I’ve always had when traveling in a four-pack, which is that we’re not the lightest on the land. But we’ve attempted to minimize impact by restoring every campsite we’ve trampled and teaching our kids to live by no-trace sensibilities that have become second nature.
Although the planning phases of a weeklong backpacking trip may seem daunting, as well as the journey itself, it is the time spent together as a family that has made us continue this tradition year after year. We are one on one with our children, doing everything from spending day upon day on the trail together with no outside distraction other than expansive vistas and wildlife sightings, as well as eating together, bathing/swimming together, and sleeping side by side.
Now that’s the definition of a close family.
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