A few weeks ago I managed to carry close to 50 pounds of freeze-dried food and camping gear about three miles up a Colorado mountain at 9,000 feet. Then, three days later, I made the trip a couple of times up and down carrying elk quarters, and eventually my camping gear, back to the truck.

I guess that qualifies me as a backpacker. Backpacking – real, big-load, calf-grinding pack humping – is new to me. As a Boy Scout, I did the overnight down-by-the lake campouts, but for years, as an adult outdoorsman, I avoided the lure of the serious Appalachian Trail treks. In my mind, the discomfort factor trumped the romance of it all. Then I began to notice the incredible improvements in backpacking gear: super light one-man tents, feather light sleeping bags, palatable freeze-dried foods, and relatively comfortable internal frame backpacks. It dawned on me: “I can do this thing.” If I could carry two days of camping gear on my back, new opportunities were presented for fishing and hunting.

In preparation for a Colorado backpacking elk hunt with my son and some younger men, I did a number of things. I bought a lot of new gear. A few overnight campouts were undertaken. These involved lugging my Colorado pack three or four miles to a trout pond and camping overnight. For six months, Diane and I walked three miles every morning. Some mornings I wore my new mountain boots and strapped on my 5,000 cubic inch backpack full of firewood. (As you might guess, this lash-up drew some puzzled looks from neighbors).

Of course, the Colorado mountains represented the Big Test! When you carry 25-30 percent of your own body weight up inclines in mid-day heat at higher elevations you find out quickly whether your carefully laid plans and physical conditioning were adequate.

Was I ready? Honestly?

The candid answer is: just barely. Although the Colorado mountains and hiking in thin air is not new to me, carrying that kind of weight up hill at altitude was a novel experience. Oh, I made it through. My younger hunting partners did not have to carry me or any part of my gear. My 67-year-old body panted and gasped for air like my English Setter after a day of hunting thick bird covers on a hot day. There were an embarrassing number of water breaks along the way. At the three-mile mark just a few hundred yards from our destination, my legs “hit the wall.” I said nothing to my 40-year-old hunt mates, but the old guy had come to the end of the trail for that day.

We had a great hunt, and the days got easier as our bodies adjusted to the altitude. My high-tech camping gear worked as advertised. We brought back one quartered-up elk down the mountain, and that was enough as far as I was concerned. If you have thought about getting into the backpacking business, remember: there is a considerable amount of trial and error that goes with it. Don’t tell my wife, but too much Reynolds money was squandered in the beginning on gear that was not satisfactory. So here are some pointers that might save you time, money, and physical discomfort:

1. Buy the best gear first. (It makes all the difference in your comfort and safety).

2. Forget the external frame backpacks. Purchase a big, high quality internal frame backpack, and make sure that it is the right size for your particular torso. This is critical when it comes to getting the pack load on your hips, not your shoulders.

3. Play around with freeze-dried foods. There is a world of difference. Some are downright awful and some taste pretty good when you are cold and famished.

4. As for physical conditioning, work on those leg muscles (I made the mistake of thinking that walking alone would prepare my leg muscles for load-bearing hikes. Not so in my case).

5. You cannot spend too much time winnowing down the size of your pack. You need to make hard choices about what is a must-have on the trail and what is not. Bill Irwin, who walked the entire AT without the benefit of eyesight, said that he started his trek with a 100-pound pack and was soon down to 35 pounds. He says that the ideal is never carry more than 20 percent of your body weight in your backpack.

6. One thing I did do right was to not make a purchase decision on my backpack and tent without thoroughly studying the options beforehand and talking to experienced hikers. I finally settled on a small two-man mountain tent from Mountain Hard Wear and an internal frame backpack from L.L. Bean made by Gregory called a Whitney. This equipment was put through its paces in Colorado and I couldn’t be more pleased with it.

Tough decisions

A side benefit of a backpacking elk hunt is that it is not nearly as tough on the pocketbook as hiring an outfitter to get you in and out of elk country. I have done these Colorado elk hunts the easy way and the hard way. Asked by my wife, who has been watching me “recover” from lost sleep and sore muscles, if I would do it again, I replied without hesitation, “Yes, it was the best hunting trip ever! The toughest, but the best.”

V. Paul Reynolds is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide, co-host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network (WVOM-FM 103.9, WCME-FM 96.7) and former information officer for the Maine Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. His e-mail address is [email protected].