A Report On The Backpack Department Essay
Poles and a water bottle in hand, we locked the van doors and took our first steps of the journey. I typically have some breathing problems at the start up uphill climbs, and this case did not differ, except that I was still on level ground and had walked no more than a minute. My pack already seemed heavier, the pain had not subsided, and I was silently gasping for breath. I kept silent, but if the pain escalated, I knew that I would soon cry like a baby and abandon all notions of backpacking, probably forever, except back to the van. Julie also appeared to be in some discomfort; since her first hike at age ten, she was using trekking poles, something she felt were for the old or unfit.
During the planning stage, I anticipated a 3,000 foot backcountry climb and campout on a scenic mountain summit or high grassy bald, with the possibility of meeting and chatting with other hikers on the trail. As our gear stockpile grew larger, I realized that, not being born a mule, I was neither prepared or willing to climb such a steep slope, especially with a fully loaded backpack on my maiden voyage. Most likely because of its reputation of isolation and solitude and the proximity to water, my daughter favoured the Lakeshore Trail alongside Fontana Lake, a place we 've only seen looking down from nearby mountain summits.