How Backpacking Became My Entire Personality

By: Sophie Yao

“There is more in us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps for the rest of our lives we will be unwilling to settle for less.”

—Kurt Hahn

This summer, I went backpacking for two weeks with a program called Outward Bound. I knew none of the other eleven kids on the trip, nor had I gone backpacking before, nor had I wanted to, but it had been a choice between two-week backpacking and three-week math camp and I chose what I thought was the lesser—or at least shorter—of the two evils. It turned out that these would be the best two weeks of my life, because as my hygiene slowly deteriorated, the relationships I built did the opposite. I returned a changed person, who had seen how beautiful the world could be and now realized how lacking everyday life was. After this experience, I think that every person needs to go backpacking with strangers before they exit the key teenage years of development.

We walked fifty miles, gained forty thousand feet of elevation, and didn’t shower for any of it, instead using alpine lakes and rivers of snowmelt to our advantage. Thirsty? Water with two drops of iodine. Hungry? Good ol’ raisins and peanuts. Tired? We had to meet our goal for the campsite first. That meant 6 miles per day and pulling into camp at 5 pm. I earned two scars, one along my palm and one along my forearm.

Does this sound horrible? Perhaps it was, in the moment. At some points I considered allowing myself to get hurt so that I would be evacuated and sent home. But everytime I felt my motivation falling and myself unable to get over a hill, I would think of all the stories I could tell when I got home, and of my friends, several feet ahead of me, calling me forward. And, of course, of the hot meal that we would prepare at camp. Each night I would fall asleep the moment I crawled into my sleeping bag—or I wished I could, except I couldn’t help but talk through half the night with my friends.

Several days were pure misery, such as the day we deemed “Double Dome,” where we summited two domes in one day, walking six miles and gaining 2200 feet of elevation. However, the views—and caramel candy provided by an instructor—were worth it. Standing on top of something only a few people have ever summited makes you realize just how small you are and just how beautiful nature is.

At the end of the course, we ran a 5k, gaining several hundred feet of elevation. Now, to clarify, I hate running. I hate running uphill because it makes me breathe hard and my calves burn. I hate running downhill because my knees start popping and my feet start hurting. I even hate running on flat ground just because it feels like it’s useless and I’m going nowhere. However, the moment I took my pack off and we readied ourselves at the starting line, I had to run. It helped that my friend was running beside me. We didn’t finish the 5k in first place, or even in the top third. We were completely average. But it wasn’t a race; it was a test to see if I was willing to push myself further than I thought I could go, and I did. 

Still, it’s not even this that was the most significant to me. It was how shocking it was that given fourteen days together, it felt like I’d known the people on the trip for my entire life. I would say and tell them things that I’ve only told a couple people. I never want to go backpacking with strangers again, and it’s not just because it was torture—though it was. It’s because I don’t want to feel like I’m replacing the people I met before.

Of course, attending backpacking courses is very expensive. The course I did was $5,000, not including the 900 dollars I spent on gear. That’s why programs such as Outward Bound, Montana Wilderness School, NOLS, and more offer scholarships to those who are underprivileged and can’t afford to pay the full price. Backpacking is for everyone to experience, and these programs realize that.

I returned with the purest sense of confidence that I have ever felt. It wasn’t me being cocky or arrogant. It was this warm feeling inside me that from then on anything I did wouldn’t be even close to as hard as this. That’s why everyone has to go backpacking with people they don’t know before they exit the years of development. It’s not just to push yourself and make yourself uncomfortable, though of course expanding your tolerance is a plus. It’s to realize that you are someone who can do so many things. You can walk fifty miles, living only off what you carry on your back. You can befriend people you were scared of only a day earlier. Give away two weeks of your life to backpacking, and you will receive a much fuller life for it.