Gail Binkly’s memories of hiking in the
“good old days” (for her, the 1980s) ring a lot of
bells (HCN, 8/4/03: When did we become such gear-toting wimps?).
But does she really prefer those heavy boots made of solid rock and
worn jeans that stayed wet for three days after a downpour? How she
got 20 years of use from a cheap dome tent is truly a marvel, but
she has forgotten what a new-gear revelation it was when she bought
it. If she had slept in a tube tent and then an A-frame in the
early ’70s, she might not think the dome such an ancient
stalwart. Of course, all John Muir had was a tall Sierra tree and a
blanket to sleep under. Now there’s “good old
days” for you.
She conjures up the spirit of Edward
Abbey, who must be doing cartwheels in his grave to think that he
has become the outdoors standard-bearer against which everybody
must compare. I don’t think it would have mattered much to
Abbey whether or not he tramped around in jeans and heavy boots or
nylon convertibles and all-terrain hiking shoes. Despite a
published opinion on mechanical gadgets separating a “man
from the world around him,” he depended on them just like the
rest of us. An internal combustion engine got him to the trailhead,
cameras took his photographs, bridles and other devices kept him
firmly atop any horse and a stove kept his trailer warm in the
winter, without which there would have been no Desert Solitaire.
Like Binkly, I too have had “some of the richest
times of my life with some of the cheapest equipment,” but I
was once younger than today. I still take my Luddite soul and
middle-aged body backpacking. As I ponder the crowds and the
ongoing challenge of locating solitude in the wild, that aging body
appreciates better boots, dry pants, secure shelter, pure water
that doesn’t make it sick, Thermarest pads and Crazy Creek
chairs. I was once a trail-head Ned-Ludd purist sitting atop my own
high horse, but, to paraphrase another acerbic American cynic, the
times they are still a-changin’. I hope that when I’m
finally in my dotage, there are still wild places to visit and
anti-gravity backpacks to strap onto my faltering frame.
Evan Cantor
Boulder, Colorado
This article appeared in the print edition of the magazine with the headline Bring on the anti-gravity backpacks.
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