Experience Is Not Enough. Out on the trail as a Trail Guide.


Day two of a three day backpacking trip. One of the hikers in our group, a young girl, eighteen, turns to me with tears welling in her eyes. “Jerry, I don’t think I can do this.”

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During the summer of 2019 my learning curve as a trail guide was steep. By the time I took my fifth group out in early August I had finally discovered the methods I needed to get them prepared. A group of three. They all arrived with everything they needed. Each had been out with me previously. Each had learned.

On day two I would once again be tested as a trail guide.

The plan I devised was not designed to be overly difficult. Though this group now had camping experience, none of them had been on a hike of real substance.

Day one we would hike 4.5 miles to our campsite. It was a campsite with no water sources, and no water sources along the way. I ensured each of us were appropriately hydrated before stepping out on the trail, and we each carried in excess of 3 liters of water. Day two we would find water 3 miles into our 6.5 mile hike. I wanted this group to learn how to camp without a water source right next to you. How this can be done with careful planning.

My test was not due to a lack of water. We arrived at our source before lunch on the 2nd day still carrying water to spare.

The last mile of our hike on day one had been a steep downhill into our campsite. The plan involved backtracking about 2 miles on the same trail the next day, before diverting onto another trail which would lead to our second campsite. Experienced backpackers reading this know what the day one descent meant. When hiking I have a saying, “what goes down eventually goes back up.”

Just a quarter of a mile into our hike on day two is when the young gal began to panic a little.

Her emotions were a combination of embarrassment at not being able to keep up, and an unfamiliar feeling from being short of breath with burning thigh muscles. The next actions I took were not only critical to getting her up the mountain, this experience could ruin her for backpacking going forward.

I sent the other two hikers ahead. We were on a well marked, safe trail. This immediately removed the feeling of embarrassment from the equation.

I knew the sleeping bag she was carrying to be too large and heavy. I had her remove her pack. I handed her my trekking poles. Before she placed her pack back on her shoulders I also took a large water bottle from her. I carried the sleeping bag in one hand, the water bottle in the other.

I instructed her how to use the trekking poles to aid in climbing steep terrain. I also taught her how to handle the early fatigue she was experiencing. When she felt her heart beating into her throat I told her to stop, regain her breath, take a sip of water, breath a little more, then continue on. I emphasized several times how we weren’t on a timeline.

I knew this feeling. In 2002, as I was completing my hike to the top of Mt. Saint Helens, my heart was pounding up into my throat. For every two steps forward I would slid one back in the deep ash near the summit. My thighs burned like never before. I fully understood what she was experiencing.

There is no doubt she made it to the top through her own sheer will and determination. I was merely there to provide the confidence to get through it. But I also had the physical conditioning required to not only continue up that terrain with my pack, but to do it carrying two extra things in my arms, and without the trekking poles I have come to rely upon.

And it was my calm voice encouraging her on. A voice of “having been there.”

Another hike in October, with a group of four, I would end up carrying an additional pack the last 1.5 miles of a 7.8 mile day. I managed to sling the straps over my arms in front of me. I was carrying my pack on my back, and this other pack in front of me. Again, I was able to do this while maintaining a reassuring voice, encouraging the hiker on to the final campsite.

With some pointed questions I can figure out a person’s backpacking experience level. Measuring a person’s physical fitness? That’s another challenge. I would describe these two individuals as physically fit. They each have a slender frame and are no strangers to exercise. But experienced backpackers know full well that exercise at home does not replicate being on the trail with a heavy pack.

The young girl from the trip in August is now an experienced backpacker. She was also on the trip in October where I ended up carrying the extra pack for a separate hiker.

As a self-anointed trail guide, I feel it is my responsibility to be in a position to handle situations such as these. Experience definitely matters.

This past summer it seemed we attracted nearly every thunderstorm during our backpacking trips. But I’d been through rain so many times. In each instance I was able to tell my group, with confidence, how we would be just fine once at the campsite. I cover this in more detail in one of my articles on the Mountain Blazer website.

As a trail guide I also feel it is my responsibility to be able to handle situations which require a certain level of physical fitness.

If you are interested in learning how to backpack, or reading about the challenges incurred by experienced backpackers, please check out the Mountain Blazers.