Crush that New Pack!

Big Buck Packed up for the Trip Out

My Problem

There I was, peacefully lost in my casting form and carefully watchful of my floating #14 mosquito. I hear a rustling in the rocks near my gear and pack. Since we were at a popular high alpine lake, I assumed someone was passing by in the shoreline rocks and making noise. A bit later, I noticed the sound again, like a friendly bag of Cheetos being opened by a four-year old. Hmm, the lake surface was dead-calm, so it wasn’t the wind. I was perplexed.

I brought in my line and scanned the shoreline for intruders. Nothing. I looked over at my pack lying face-down on a large boulder and I heard the Cheeto sound again. This time I saw my pack rocking to-and-fro. The gears spun up and I’m pretty sure there was no smoke or loud clinking sounds coming from the space between my ears. Suddenly, the synapses connected and I lurched from my perch to race for my pack. When I got there, I found a neat little hole gnawed into my outside pocket and a half-eaten granola bar, crumbs drooling onto the rock!

That little shit of a chipmunk I had earlier thought to be so cute and harmless had just put a hole in my brand new, pride-and-joy backpack. If I had been armed with a suitable firearm, he would not have lasted the remainder of that morning; however, as fate would have it he has lived to bite another day.

I did not grieve for my pack exactly. The nasty rat hadn’t seriously damaged it, I supposed. I was seriously pissed at the little monster for defacing my beautiful lightweight Osprey pack on its fourth or fifth outing.

Hunting Packs

Rewind some years…I had won an Eberlestock hunting pack at a local Elk Foundation dinner. I had taken to the habit of loading my gear into it, beating the crap out of it, shoving bloody body parts (wild game) into it, and letting it ride in the back of a dusty pickup truck. This pack had become my go-to hunting pack and it handled everything I threw at it with ease.

Right then and there, I made the decision to start using my new pack the way God intended

So, I had a pack for my sanitary summer high-mountain adventures and one for my grungy, more blood-soaked escapades. The hunting pack weighed over 8 pounds with nothing in it, and my Osprey was too pretty for the hunting field. Or was it? I also had used a great old Coleman backpack for years to take game out of the high country. It wasn’t quite as convenient as the Eberlestock, but boy could it haul meat!

As I get older, I have become increasingly interested in the weight of my gear, particularly if I stray more than a mile or so from camp or the truck. That said, I like to have nice stuff, and the Osprey pack is definitely nice stuff. Well, a while back I was meeting a gent to have him score my son’s B&C antelope (net 89.0 inches…hoorah!) when I happened to notice that the backpack he was loading for his upcoming mule deer trip was a clone to my precious Osprey. Same brand, same model, same size. Once again, the synapses did their thing and I found myself in the middle of a genuine “ah-ha” moment!

Epiphany?

Right then and there, I made the decision to start using my new pack the way God intended: for me to use it in every situation in which it is the superior piece of equipment. Now, the Eberlestock is superior in the amount of weight its suspension can bear. That pack is there for me when a heavy pack is required; however, I would say I rarely load even a game-laden pack over 50 pounds, especially if I need to pack more than a mile or two. I made a resolution right then and there to go ahead and finish the job that dad-gummed chipmunk started. I’m enlisting the talents of that ultra-light and ultra-comfortable Osprey, saving myself about four pounds right out of the gate!

My Eberlestock is superior in its capacity, suspension, and the way it attaches my gear and carries my rifle. So, when I need those attributes more than the weight savings, it still does its job. My point is that I have misunderstimated the value and chops provided by my lightweight mountain pack. So, don’t be afraid to get that fancy pack a little dirty, or even tear or wear it out. That is why you bought it, presumably, and if you wear it out in maybe 10 years, I’m sure you will find a new pretty pack to replace it. Your goal is now to wear it out as fast as possible, of course while still taking good care of it, not abusing it, but by employing it on every possible adventure that suits it well! I hope every adventure that results in a fray or a popped seam is more than worth i!