Whether or not a backpacker carries a camp chair tells you a lot about them. Do they view camp as a destination to get comfortable and enjoy? Or just a brief pause that鈥檚 necessary if they want to spend a weekend walking without collapsing from exhaustion? While camp chairs have gotten lighter and lighter over the past several decade, they鈥檙e still far from standard in most backpackers鈥 gear lists. Should they be on yours? We asked two of our editors to weigh in.
Ditch the Camp Chair
I want it on record that . I鈥檓 the kind of person who鈥檚 constitutionally unable to sit on a couch without eventually oozing into a lying-down position. I like fireplaces and cozy flannel shirts. I鈥檝e been known, on occasion, to wear Crocs. But when it comes to comfort, it鈥檚 possible to have too much of a good thing.
If you鈥檙e a middle-class person in the global north, you likely live in an environment that鈥檚 tailored to your physical ease. Your clothing is mostly soft and always clean; your furniture is upholstered, your temperatures are controlled. Like a fish in water, you鈥檝e likely become so used to the comforts surrounding you that you鈥檝e ceased to register them.
But sometimes, I think, a little discomfort can help us fully engage with the world. When you feel the sweat trickling down your neck or the hard rock underneath the seat of your pants, what you鈥檙e really experiencing is the feeling of being a human being out in nature, immersed in the sun and the bugs and the cold ground. Yes, when you leave the chair at home, you鈥檙e sacrificing a little bit of comfort鈥攂ut you鈥檙e gaining so much more.
Then, there鈥檚 the obvious problem with carrying a chair: the weight. Backpacking chairs have gotten a lot lighter over the years, with models like the tipping the scales at a single pound. But you know what weighs less than bringing a lightweight seat? Leaving it at home. A chair is a luxury item that you can replace with any log or relatively flat rock. If I鈥檓 going to carry that weight, I鈥檒l bring a book, a first-night meal, or exactly 1 pound of .
I don鈥檛 judge anyone who brings a chair鈥攐r any other personal luxury鈥攂ut to me, focusing on comfort in camp is missing the point. The joy of backpacking is in movement and, for once in our comfort-swaddled lives, immersing ourselves in the wide world around us. So rebel, I say. Leave the chair at home. Sit on the wet grass or the cold, hard rock. 鈥擜dam Roy, Editor in Chief
Pack the Camp Chair
Just like Adam, I have an admission up top: I don鈥檛 hate discomfort. I several years ago, and it changed the way I behave. This Nordic trait boils down to channeling your determination to rise above all adversity. Just when you think you鈥檝e reached your limit, you can always dig deeper. Basically the opposite of hygge, it鈥檚 how Finns are resilient enough to ice swim through the winter months, which is central to their culture.
Since I read that book, a lot of my life has trended toward hobbies and activities that test my patience: I actually enjoy running marathons. I write for a living. On the weekends, I climb rocks until my fingertips are raw. Plus, I regularly spend long hours carrying lots of weight on my back and setting up camp far from my comforts of home. I know what it鈥檚 like to test my strength, and doing so has let me experience parts of the backcountry that I鈥檇 never be able to if I took the easy route. However, there is a line between a hardy challenge and straight-up misery. How can you balance the two when you鈥檙e voluntarily putting yourself into uncomfortable scenarios? For me, having reliable comforts makes all the difference.
I bring a chair on most backpacking trips, and I actually use it. It doesn鈥檛 detract from my ability to connect with the outdoors at all. I鈥檓 still hearing the same birds, feeling the same wind, and getting bitten by the same bugs as I would if I was sitting on a rock. In fact, I feel like I can focus on connecting with nature a little more. (Sitting directly on wet grass or cold ground would also trigger my Raynaud鈥檚-prone extremities to numbness that would take me out of the experience of being outdoors.)
In a community that prides itself on grit, it can be controversial to admit that you go out of your way for luxury. However, determining your hiker status by how much you want to suffer isn鈥檛 something we should be doing. We all have had hikes that tested us, whether with , technical scrambles, or . After a brutal hike, being able to reliably and comfortably sit down can help recharge your suffer meter. And doing so on an uneven log or soggy grass patch definitely doesn鈥檛 do it for me.
It鈥檚 easy to get caught up in the argument about weight, but honestly, chairs don鈥檛 weigh that much. My legs have never buckled under the weight of my 1 pound, 11 ounce REI Co-op Flexlite Camp Chair. And a chair weighing a single pound, like the Helinox Chair Zero? Weight-wise, that鈥檚 chump change. A decade ago, we wouldn鈥檛 be splitting hairs for the sake of weight class status, and doing so now is pretty trite. Just grow up and bring the extra pound or two. 鈥 Emma Veidt, Assistant Editor