For hard core backpackers pack weight is a serious game, especially in challenging and endurance-taxing terrain like the Adirondacks. Every pound you take on the trail is additional effort. Every extra handful of ounces somehow magnifies the inevitable crushing drain on personal will that, after an extended day with miles yet to go, can cause you to feel as Jacob Marley must have, shambling on through eternity.
For some, saving weight elevates to a competitive and expensive sport, with ultra-light this and featherweight that. Lemme tell you, that gear costs. For the most extreme disciples of light-weight backpacking the quest becomes quasi-religious (and I can arguably drop the “quasi” part). I’ve known people to cut down pencils to save a tenth of an ounce.
We all join the faithful at one time or another: who among we Adirondack hikers has not at least once felt a surge of joy and self-congratulatory satisfaction all out of keeping with the situation when we drained our last water, feeling and hearing our bottles jiggling around oh-so empty, oh-so mercifully airy? “Ha! I’m light now, thank God,” we say to ourselves. » Continue Reading.