Seven years have passed since I wrote the previous edition of this book, years in which I’ve learned much more about backpacking and the wilderness—modifying some techniques, adopting new ones, and abandoning others. I’ve spent more time in the desert Southwest and also in the cold Far North. Much new equipment has appeared. The ultralight movement has boomed, LED lights have appeared, and electronic devices have become the norm. A new and better way of fitting boots is available. This new edition incorporates all these advances and much more.
As with the previous edition, I found more material I wanted to rewrite or change than I expected. Much of the book is new. My choices in gear have changed in many cases, and there are new kit lists showing what I carry on trips now. As before, this is a subjective book: I give my thoughts and describe how I operate. But the reasons for going into the wilderness haven’t changed, nor has the simple activity of hiking. My memories of wilderness trips aren’t about tents or boots or the weight of my load. They are about watching moose browse out in a shallow timberline lake below a dark forest topped by red rock cliffs; of striding along a rocky mountain ridge above a vast panorama of peaks and canyons dotted with blue lakes and deep green groves; of waking at dawn to watch the sun slice through the mist and light up a cliff-shadowed lake; of lying under the desert sky listening to the call of night birds and staring at the bright stars stretching into the infinite; of hearing the welcome sound of a trickling creek after a hot, dry climb. They are about, at heart, feeling part of nature. This is constant. This is what backpacking is.