In the new normal of inescapable household intimacy, the pettiest irritations can quickly escalate into intolerable aggravations. For some couples, this might be the ultimate test. But if you can survive quarantine together, you can certainly survive a long-distance hike.听
Having backpacked 12,000-plus听cumulative miles on the Appalachian Trail together, as well as sections of the Pacific Crest Trail听and听New Zealand鈥檚 Te Ararora, we听can say with confidence that the gear we chose for long treks听saved our marriage. And after听years of testing, we鈥檝e found that certain gear picks change the way we interact with each other听and make it easier to coexist on the trail.听
Shelter and Sleep Systems
When we decided to spend most of our fifth year together on an听Appalachian Trail thru-hike, we knew we had to听upgrade our shelter for more space. Our biggest complaint about our single-wall tent was that the听front door鈥攖he only听door鈥攆orced us to clamber over each other and our stuff in the vestibule if we needed to get out. It also lacked ventilation, so if one of us accidentally hit the tent wall in the morning, it resulted in听an unwelcome shower of condensation.
Forking over the big bucks for our 听tent ($450) stung at the time, but it has become our stalwart gear champion years later. (We鈥檝e used multiple Copper Spur models as the line has evolved, and we听recommend them all.)听
This听tent is one of the reasons our marriage is still thriving after hundreds of backcountry nights. Besides Patrice鈥檚 late-night bathroom trips being less disruptive thanks to two side doors, one of us brings more stuff than the other, so each of us听having our own vestibule is like having individual closets. The steep walls yield 40 inches of headroom, and the 29 square feet of usable听floor space helps prevent bumping elbows and fraying nerves.
Respect for personal space (and an average of one shower per week over several months) is also the reason we鈥檝e maintained individual sleep systems. We have both opted for sleeping pads (starting at $145), but because Patrice is a cold sleeper, she sticks with a 20-degree bag (starting at $370) and packs a 听($63), just in case. Justin uses varying blankets and bags, such as the ($439), depending on the temperature.听
Cookware and Food
Trail-food habits certainly run a wide gamut. We met a hiker in New Zealand who chomped on cold ramen in order to go stove-less. Another guy on the Appalachian Trail carried a four-pound jar of peanut butter听because he听didn鈥檛 realize听it would be easy to resupply. But we don鈥檛 judge, because we have our own quirks, like eating cold oatmeal out of the packets to speed up our morning routine and spare us听dish duty.听
Truthfully, we are lazy backpackers. And there are some听choices we agree on, including听meals and meal prep.听We鈥檝e done nothing more than boil two cups of water in our 1.4-liter pot from the听 ($65), using听our ($45), to put together听a dehydrated meal night after night.听
The most creative we get is to save certain meals for special occasions. We had听 ($8) the Thanksgiving we spent on top of Guadalupe Peak in Texas and ate听 ($11) to celebrate听Valentine鈥檚 Day in New Zealand. We spice up birthdays with a dehydrated dessert, like the听 ($4).听
Neither of us has a romantic notion of camp dinners over an open fire鈥攖oo much time and effort. Plus, we are grazers, so splitting a two-serving meal at night is usually enough. At the end of a 20-mile day, we like to equally divide camp chores and keep our routine low fuss. There aren鈥檛 even any dishes, since we eat right out of the package with our long-handled ($4).
Suffice it to say听we鈥檝e eaten more dehydrated dinners than we want to admit. We are听so obsessed with this routine that when we thru-hiked New Zealand鈥檚 Te Araroa, we toted 76 dehydrated meals through customs for fear that we wouldn鈥檛 be able to find reasonably priced meal varieties overseas. Admittedly, we felt silly when the agent spilled the meals across a metal table and said, 鈥淵ou do know we have food in New Zealand, ay?鈥
Backpacks and Other Essentials
The same laziness applies to our water situation. Justin鈥檚 water intake is more听camel than听human, but Patrice has an unquenchable thirst and sweats when she looks at the sun. We match our opposite needs by using our ($22) to drink on the spot during听extended breaks听at the various water sources. In addition, Patrice always carries a ($40), while Justin鈥檚 weight-saving strategy is to be more conservative, carrying maybe one liter on the hottest stretches.听
You鈥檝e probably figured this out by now, but we鈥檝e never claimed to be ultralight, so that goes for our packs as well.听
We lug around our life on our backs with the and (women鈥檚 and men鈥檚, respectively, both $300). They鈥檙e our听favorites because of their numerous pockets and compartments. We prefer this organized system to听keep an efficient camp life. While Justin tends to shoulder more of our joint gear鈥攑articularly the tent鈥擯atrice totes lunches and dinners, resulting in diminishing daily pack weight.
We fill our packs with our own snacks (gummies are a necessity) and personal gear. Justin鈥檚 luxury list is admittedly longer than Patrice鈥檚, like his ($35), a spotting scope, and one too many extra layers (another reason having his own vestibule has been a relationship game changer). One luxury item we agree on: our favorite card game, ($8).听
It took years of misadventures and failures to perfect our backpacking system.听If only we could go back in time to听that first backpacking trip together in 2003 to tell ourselves听that sharing one foam pad is not worth the cost savings.听