On the Pennine Way in 2015 I was carrying the Outrider penknife, weighing in at 156g. In pursuit of a lighter load, I took a 110g Evolution 23 on the South West Coast Path in 2018. Now, for LEJOG this year, since I won’t be camping, I’ll be packing the minuscule Rambler, a mere 30g. It doesn’t have a corkscrew, but then I’ll be sticking to beer when I’m walking alone, for which it does have a tiny bottle-opener – even if it does take a couple of tugs to remove a cap. It has a small pair of scissors and a nail file, so I’ll be adequately manicured and not poking holes in my socks. And it has a toothpick, for those nights when I’ve indulged in a steak or a pork chop. On those evenings when I’m lucky enough to have my wife with me, we’ll leave it to the wine waiter to wield his worthy sommelier knife.
I don’t know about you, but I find it really hard to switch from acquisitively garnering as much gear as I could conceivably ever need for hiking in any conditions imaginable, to whittling it all down to the lightest possible load. Perhaps it all starts when you’re first setting up a household, when the fiancée arranges her first items neatly in the bottom drawer. Or are those notions now completely outmoded? Perhaps it’s all done on credit cards now, a bit like the old never-never. Even so, it’s probably still the case that most young couples start with relatively little and have to shop cautiously, with a keen eye for a bargain. If they proceed to have children, many of their acquisitions will be strictly temporary ones, as the kids sooner or later grow out of both clothes and toys. Eventually though, as birthdays and Christmases go by and bairns fly from the nest, the possessions start to accumulate, eventually to a prodigious extent; have you ever had to clear out a house following the death of its last elderly occupant? A lot of those who grew up in more deprived times found it hard to throw stuff away so, 60 years later, the sheer quantity of old tat in the garage, the loft, the spare bedroom and under the stairs has you tearing your hair out. My father’s childhood development was interrupted by the war, when he found himself caught in a zone between the German and Russian armies. He spent the rest of his life trying to make up for all the fear, the frustrations and deprivation. There were forty shirts crammed into his wardrobe, for example, shirts bought before the days when they were imported from China or Malaysia, so pretty expensive ones. He probably never heard the term ‘minimalism’, except in connection with music, and wouldn’t have known where to start if you asked him to chuck old stuff out – it was an alien concept; you never knew when something might come in useful! Well, I’m a son of that generation and now the stuff I own has reached saturation point, but at least I am able to get rid of things – I’m a regular at the nearest charity shop and know by heart the opening times of the household recycling centre. I guess I’m just over the summit of the acquisitions hill and have started freewheeling down the other side but, the thing is, when I started hiking I was still in ‘give me more’ mode; now I have half a dozen rucksacks, three pairs of full-on boots and a couple of pairs of walking shoes, a cupboard full of hiking clothes, numerous waterproofs and a couple of boxes full of bits and bobs, from sporks and filter straws to compasses and torches. Oh, and 43 cotton handkerchiefs! Thoughtful relatives, having read in my e-book about my talent for losing hankies along the South West Coast Path, have been abundantly generous and not a little ironic in trying to ensure I never run short of hankies again; it seems to be the only present I get these days! Piled on top of all the other gear, it’s way too much! It just makes paring back to the bare backpacking essentials more difficult – how on earth do you cut down to a 9kg load if you’re carrying 43 hankies? I guess it’s all part of globalisation which, for all its demerits and its deleterious effects on the climate, has made goods so much cheaper. We’re all still getting used to that, to judge by the queues at the dump. Who even takes the plugs off all the electrical gadgets they throw away these days? I was chatting with Joe the electrician the other day and he was bemoaning the fact that his wife is a clothes shopaholic; to make room for new stuff he has to take bundles to the charity shop, some the items still having labels on! And don’t get me started on the packaging industry – plastic-wrapped swedes and plastic soap dispensers, for heaven’s sake! Kerazee consumerism!
My packing list is still something of a work in progress – for example, I haven’t quite decided about taking gaiters and I’ve just bought a fourth, lighter, breathable waterproof, saving nearly a pound in weight. It’s particularly difficult to stay dry on wet days, especially if you’re trying to travel light. Getting wet, either from an ingress of water or from sweat, means that you get cold as soon as you stop moving, even in summer. You have to shell out big time if you want something that’s both waterproof and breathable and, since I sweat freely even when not encased in man-made fibres, that’s precisely what I need. I tried a poncho combined with shorts on the Pennine Way, but it doesn’t really work in hill weather; the inside still gets wet from condensation, and your socks get soaked from the rain running down your legs. This is all very well but, once your feet are wet, the skin gets soft and you’ll rub blisters even if your feet are well hardened so, much as I um and ah about whether to take gaiters, I probably will – especially for walking through long, wet grass. As for the top half, I had every confidence in my Mountain Equipment Llotse jacket, but it weighs 530g, so now I’ll be trying the Berghaus Hyper 100.
Here it is, though, all the stuff to take me from Land’s End to John o’Groats, subject to last-minute pruning:
Boots – Altberg Tethera – 1538g
(I may risk the lighter – 1140g – but porous Salomon Quest for some southern stages if the weather forecast is favourable.)
Rucksack – Lowe Alpine Airzone Pro+ – 1570g
Walking stick – Leki – 272g
Dry sacks – Exped Ultralight – 61g
Torch – Random brand – 50g
Penknife – Victorinox Rambler – 30g
Water bladder – Camelbak 2 litre – 208g
Two water bottles + holster – Quechua + random 500ml bottle – 153g
Water – tap – 2600g
Caffeine pills – ProPlus – 1g
Rations – salted peanuts/jellybabies – 35g
Cereal bars – Stoats/Nature Valley – 100g
Kendal Mint Cake – Romney’s – 85g
Phone+shockproof case – Huawei/Aldhofa – 199g
Charger + leads – random brand – 111g
Earplugs – Boots – 6g
mp3 player – Sansa clip – 42g
Waterproof sleeves for phone & powerbank – Ortlieb + A.N.Other – 62g
Powerbank – Anker PowerCore II Slim 10000 – 203g
Masterplan, photocopied maps, waterproof case – Ortlieb – 48g
First aid kit – 180g:
- Compeed plasters
- Other assorted plasters
- Moleskin
- Bandage
- Wound dressing
- Sterile wipes
- Ibuprofen
- Tick remover tool
- Anti-blister stick
Sun lotion/insect repellant – Boots Soltan – 198g
Charter hat – Sunday Afternoon – 100g
Waterproof jacket – Berghaus Hyper 100 Extrem – 108g
Running shoes – Inov8 ParkClaw – 554g
Snood – random brand – 35g
Shorts – Decathlon – 204g
Merino base layer – Crivit – 136g
Long-sleeved t-shirt – Zakti – 185g
Hoodie – Montane Allez – 171g
T-shirt – Parkinson’s logo – 180g
Walking trousers – Arcteryx – 308g
Waterproof trousers – Berghaus – 346g
Gaiters – Rab – 247g
2 x Hiking socks – Bridgdale/Brasher – 128g
Bamboo liner socks – random brand – 39g
Waterproof socks – Sealskinz – 88g
2 x Underpants – random brand – 146g
Wash kit – 329g:
- Soap (also for hair and clothes washing) + container
- Microfleece towel
- Half-toothbrush + head cover
- Toothpaste
- Deodorant
- Razor
- Cotton buds
Silk sheet sleeping bag – random brand – 95g
Wallet, inc cheques – 127g
Loose change – 47g
Watch – Seiko titanium – 56g
Dog chews – 29g
Shoe brush – 31g
Leder Gris – 66g
J-cloth – 9g
That’s a total weight of about 25lbs in old money, some of which I’ll be wearing. The actual pack weight should be around 19lbs plus packed lunch, between 8 and 9Kg.
Do I hear you exclaim “DOG CHEWS?? WTF?” Well, there’s one particular walk I do which passes an isolated house occupied by a little old lady and a horde of dogs – at least a dozen. If they happen to be out loose for their recreation as I’m walking past it can get a little hair-raising because, while most of them are on the friendly to fawning scale, one or two are at the more aggressive and territorial end of the spectrum. These latter pay scant regard to the old lady’s admonitions, so I have to fend off their attentions with the rubber tip of my walking stick. It occurred to me that the proverbial carrot might work better, so I bought some cheap chews but, in line with the law of Sod, the dogs haven’t been out loose since. The next time I passed by, they were in her garden, so I thought I’d test a chew on a friendly dog that came up to the fence to greet me; it worked a treat, but the idea hasn’t been put to the test on one of the less amiable curs.
One item I can probably manage without, at least for the southern part, is the silk sheet sleeping bag. I know the bunkhouse at the Golden Lion in Horton-in-Ribblesdale provides no bedding, but I need to check the other budget accommodation I’ve booked.
So there it is. All I have to do now is get fit for the journey!
White Acorns 