Comfort in Camp

Beginner's Guide to Backpacking

Comfort in Camp
For me, the first night or two in a sleeping bag is always a bit restless. Hard ground and the confinement of a sleeping bag are a big change from the luxury of a queen-size bed and flannel sheets. That minor discomfort, and many others, vanish after a few days, and I quickly begin to feel much more at home in the wilderness. I don't know of any shortcuts to sleeping-bag adaptation – unless you want to bivy in your backyard for a night or two before the trip.

Sleeping cold, on the other hand, is a preventable problem even on the first night. The first line of defense, of course, is an adequate sleeping bag and, equally important but sometimes neglected, adequate insulation beneath you in the form of your sleeping pad. Some people have a philosophical objection to sleeping in their clothes. They choose to sleep in the buff under the stares, er, stars. Don't ignore how much warmth those clothes can give. I like to sleep in enough clothes that I can slip out of the bag at night or in the early morning without immediately feeling uncomfortable. In the winter, on truly bitter nights, I sometimes even wear my shell gear.

In addition to wearing adequate clothes, make sure you go to bed warm and well-fed. A nightcap of hot chocolate or tea is a great way to start a cozy night's slumber (although unfortunates with small bladders may prefer different methods). If you go to bed cold, it can take a long time to warm up even in the best sleeping bag. Be sure you use your bag to its fullest extent. It's easy to slide into the sack on a cool but not cold evening and fall asleep without cinching down the hood, then awaken at 2 a.m. uncomfortably chilled and spend the rest of the night clutching the bag around your shoulders, trying to warm up. Many people in that situation fail to realize how much heat they lose through the mouth of the bag. Take the time to carefully fasten the sleeping bag collar (if it has one) around your neck, then cinch down the hood leaving just your nose, mouth and eyes exposed. Try not to breathe inside the bag. You'll cause condensation that will soak your insulation.

Close confinement inside a tent during a prolonged storm can erode even the closest of friendships. Minor quirks and innocuous habits that are easily overlooked in the city can mushroom into major irritants in the backcountry. David Roberts, in his book about an attempt to climb Alaska's Mt. Deborah with Don Jensen, wrote how he "learned to loathe the way Jensen ate his soup." I've felt the same irritation, utterly irrational but real, during long, demanding expeditions in the Alaska Range when my partner chose to snack on an item he'd saved after I'd already eaten my rations for the day. Ask for your tentmate's okay before you start chomping on another stick of bubble gum. Look into her glowering eyes before humming the twenty-fifth repetition of "Having My Baby." A little extra empathy will defuse most problems before the spark hits the dynamite.
When the sun finally does begin to shine again, the first priority is often to dry out the gear that inevitably became soggy during the storm. Condensation can soak the inside of a tent fly even if no precipitation fell during the night. If you plan to move on that day, remove the tent fly as soon as you get up, and spread it upside down on a rock or branch to dry. You'll save yourself carrying the extra weight of a soaking-wet tent, and you'll help preserve the coatings on the tent fabrics. You can usually pick up a free-standing tent by the poles (after unstaking it) and shake loose dirt out the door before striking it. Be sure to pick up the inevitable twist-tie or candy-wrapper that emerges from hiding when you do so.

Before leaving your site, scour the ground of all bits of trash, big or small, yours or the previous party's. If the site has never been used before (or looks that way), be sure to leave it just the way you found it. Restore natural litter to the tent site and replace any rocks you may have moved. Give others the same pleasure you enjoyed when you chanced upon such a pristine, perfect site.

Some novices worry about thieves stealing gear left behind at a backcountry camp while the owners go for a day hike. Or they worry about being assaulted. Fortunately, such incidents, while not unheard of, are very rare. In Rocky Mountain National Park, for example, no backcountry thefts or assaults were reported in 1998, although the park recorded 46,555 backcountry user-nights. Other national parks report similar statistics. Backcountry crime is nothing to lose sleep over.

Car break-ins at trailhead parking lots are a bigger but still manageable problem. There's not much you can do about car-clouting except to avoid leaving valuables like your wallet or purse in your car. If you must leave something worth stealing, be sure it's out of sight when you leave. Thieves have been known to hang around and see who leaves what choice items in which trunk. Consider stopping some distance away from your final destination, stashing your valuables out of sight in your trunk, then driving to the trailhead and hitting the trail. Not all thieves are human: bears have also been caught clouting cars, although they're usually more interested in the bread in your cooler than the bread in your wallet. Avoid storing odorous food anywhere in your cars, and avoid storing food or items resembling food anywhere in plain sight. With any luck, your car will be fine when you return.

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