Norwegian fjords. Definitely.

Oooh, I’d love to finally do the Grouse Grind some time…

would love to have it!

i’ll mail you a drawing!

I went hiking in Olympic National Park and I swear, I was actually in Ewok Village.

Ooh these are beautiful!
My dream is to go to iceland. I’d use a backpack like this to lug around my cameras. I’d die to go to the Blue Lagoon. Hopefully one day I’ll get my butt out of college and save up some money.

YEs please .. again

After I graduate college I would take this baby all over to music festivals all across the nation. I want to be a music journalist, and this bag would definitely help me stay classy when jamming out and not showering for days.

I would love to go backpacking through San Francisco. Sounds kinda silly, but it’s enough of a city to canvass back and forth for several days and still have plenty to explore.

I’d love love love to go backpacking across the midwest!

that will be lovely gift for my gf

Personally, I’d love to go backpacking through Spain, France and Central/South America. There are so many dynamics that exist in each of these places, socially and historically. Recently, I’ve really been into some spiritual pursuits including the idea of connectedness. Exploring Mayan land seems like it’d be a great place to start. We are, after all, physically\genetically bound to ancient civilizations.

When the sun is shinning and the summer months are happening the best backpacking that can happen is around town with your skid friends. Especially when you’re too poor for gas but don’t care because thats what summer is for. This summer I spent hours and hours just getting from A to B but if the backpack is full of the necessities you’re in for a rad time. its funny how you miss stuff like that.

-Cranbrook BC
Canada

Nice bag! In college, I spent a summer backpacking through Europe. One of the best experiences of my life.

Next year (September 2012 – May 2013) I will be backpacking around Europe. I can only imagine the people I will meet, things I will learn, and experiences that I will have. I would really appreciate and utilize a backpack like this!

While traveling thru the island my friend and I were looking for any available decent hostels (all booked, busy summer!) so we ended up at some “guest house” on top of a strip bar in Victoria.

The room smelled like armpits, the pillows were non-matching 70′s cushions and we had to ask for toilet paper in reception cuz “the guests always stole it”…classy.

As we prepare to sleep (an avoid to contract airborne herpes) we noticed that some “gifts” were left by previous guests. Such gifts were condom wrappers and ripped ladies underwear. Just what you want to find in your vacation. My friend, in an attempt to be funny (fucking stupid) stuffed the mentioned dirty, ripped undies in my backpack without my knowledge. Funny! (IMBECILE). When I got home I got the pleasant surprise of reaching in and grabbing them. The bag and it’s contents were washed so harshly that they ended up being translucent. The bag was thrown out. Please, help me recover my faith in bags and trips by having one of these beauties. I will only stuff clean undies in it. Please and thank you.

Happy Holidays!

Friends and I planned a spring break Appalachian trail hike a few years ago. We expected it to be sort of warm, pleasant. We were planning to hike pretty exclusively on the roller coaster, which is all steep hills and switchbacks and rocks and awful. When we got there we parked one car where we intended to end, doubled back, got to our starting location and set out. It was about 45 degrees. It began raining immediately. It would continue to rain nonstop for the next three days, the temperature just barely above freezing. We were so soaked that we decided just to wear shorts and t shirts. We had two candy bars per man, which was basically our only nourishment given that we couldn’t get a fire going. The first day was pretty uneventful. The second day we ended up at a shelter, but it was occupied. We couldn’t tell who was inside because they’d hung a large tarp over the front, but we heard some rustling. We pitched a tent downhill. Later in the night, we saw four flashlights emerge from the shelter and run in opposite directions. Then the lights when out, and the figures started screaming like howler monkies. We all dived inside of the tent and brandished whatever we could as weapons. We sat in there awake for the next six hours. The entire time we heard a rustling outside from each side of the tent, like a bull rubbing its’ hooves against the ground preparing to charge. There was also this vague, horrifying moaning sound, that seemed to come and go. Eventually we all fell asleep due to exhaustion. They weren’t leaving, but they weren’t getting any more aggressive either, and I think we’d sort of convinced ourselves that we were making it up, that the noise was the wind, or some animals rustling through our packs (which we had ditched when we dove into the tent.) When we woke up in the morning the tarp was gone and the occupants of the shelter seemed to have disappeared, but outside of our tent there were four crosses made out of sticks and tied with twine, stuck into the ground in the cardinal directions. Our packs were still there, but they’d been arranged into a mound and covered in white ash. We hiked as much of the remainder as we could but didn’t make it to the car. Luckily that night was uneventful. We made it to an unoccupied shelter and watched the front in shifts. On the third day my friend sprained his ankle (all of the rocks were slippery, and he wasn’t wearing boots), and we carried him for about two miles. When we got to the car, we found that it had accrued $250 worth of tickets. Evidently you weren’t supposed to park there overnight, although no such signs were posted anywhere. I drove home and popped off my boots and dipped my bleeding feet into a saltwater tub, and fell asleep on the couch.

The canvas rucksack is crucial for any travel. I had a black bag similar to this, quite a bit lower quality, when i went to rome for a weekend. I have a sister in berlin and was staying there for a little visit, for my birthday she got me a ticket to rome. It was the end of my visit, and i had very little money left. The night before i had gone out and not really slept. I arrived in rome only with my backpack and a few dollars. My hostel wouldn’t allow me to check in until the evening for some reason, so there i was in rome with little money, no sleep and my backpack. I traversed the city on foot, eating the cheapest pizza i could find, drinking cheap peroni and there were many moments when i felt lost in the city. At one point I was walking down a narrow street, not really paying attention, and all of a sudden there was the Parthenon, a giant structure thousands of years old. At that moment I felt like the travelers of old must have felt, a moment where media, tourism, etc. didn’t exist, it was just me and the parthenon.

I’ve never really done a backpacking excursion, but I think most of all I would love to see Antarctica. Not only would the starkness be beautiful, but I couldn’t help to imagine how it would feel to see such extremes and perhaps something which is slowly fading away.

So I flew to Los Angeles and took my friend backpacking in Joshua Tree where we both almost died, yelled at each other, and found beauty in subtlety. All before we went to San Francisco where he proposed to his girlfriend in the middle of the Golden Gate and I fell in love with her friend running back across the bridge and reading poetry to her upstairs at Vesuvio. She broke up with me and I need a new pack to find a new love. Thanks.

Ten years ago, I quit the job everyone but me thought was perfect. I gave away all my furniture and put everything I needed into a backpack and moved to Germany, in the winter. From there, I boarded a train headed east. After crossing the border into the Czech Republic, I got off the train when we reached a town whose name I could not pronounce and that I had never heard of. I wound up in a house warmed by charcoal, drinking coffee so thick with grains, it felt like soup. I traveled on foot through towns covered in snow, communicating with hand gestures and drinking beer that got colder the longer we took to finish the bottle because the taverns lacked heat. I remember rye bread, sleeping in converted prisons, and thinking it takes so little to live life so fully. This backpack I would take on my next adventure — destination to be determined.

Most of my backpacking these days is around my neighborhood, carrying giant books, but I’d love to go backpacking through South America.

Arriving at a trailhead just outside Canmore, a young and foolish Jesse steps out of the car with hop in his step and confidence in the journey that lies ahead. The seven hour car ride was going to be worthwhile.

Opening the trunk to pack the bags he thinks, “Now to just go into the tub where my tent, sleeping bag and pad are…”

Then that sinking feeling.

Young and foolish Jesse left the tub on the couch back in Saskatoon.

And that’s the story of how I bought my first “good” tent, and slept on the ground, wrapped in sweaters for 3 nights. Lesson learned.

Please, I’d treat this bag with the utmost respect.

And to answer the other question: next (major) hike will likely be the Juan de Fuca.

Happy holidays!

I went hiking with a calamitous group of 10 10 year olds for a week while working at a camp in Virginia. This group had run into some misadventures the previous week including broken canoes, soaked gear, and fractured ankles. Apparently my presence was supposed to help set them straight, but the mishaps only continued. The first two days it rained non-stop. I spent several sleepless nights due to a drenched tent and sleeping bag and/or bear paranoia. When the sun finally did shine, we had a good hike for half a day. The creek’s were running high and we did some fancy rope work at some of these crossings to get the kids across. We almost ran into a moonshiner’s trap (some sort of rusty, DIY, large-scale mouse trap) after heading down a wrong path. After this incident, it began pouring once again, and then it began to lightning. With no shelter in sight, we had to space ourselves across the trail for 1 hour in a rather uncomfortable squatting position. Once we started back up, we ran into a crossing that was too sketchy, and turning back was not really an option. Stuck, we phoned base camp on the cell phone, which was virtually dead, and waited. We waited from about 5 pm to 9pm huddled together. Some kids started having fatalistic visions, so we threw them under sleeping bags to keep them warm. With no contact with base camp, one of the other leaders kind of broke down (she ended up being mildly hypothermic). Finally around 1 AM we saw headlamps on the ridge. Thus began about a 3 hour rescue involving standing in frigid creeks, ropes, and the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had. None of the 10 year olds were really harmed. They got pizza afterwards.

oh god those are beutifull! i really want to go backpacking in the Adirondack mountains or along the river near my house, gosh that would be wonderfull <3

I would love to go backpacking across Scandinavia with a Hasselblad and a Herschel bag.

I’ve traveled around Australia a bit, but I don’t think I’d call it backpacking. At some point I’d like to backpack around Norway, most likely in the summer time.

i was once chased by a bull in the middle of a foggy night just northern Ontario. Hopped a fence which cut my arm. 20 stitches later, good to go. Traveled across Canada with one friend, one backpack of goods and a sleeping bag. best time of my life.

I almost peed my pants seeing this. I have been hiking through out New Zealand. I have grown up in the northwest, since I was young I have been hiking around the woods. I plan to do the Pacific Northwest Crest Trail this summer, starting in Washington and getting as far as possible into California. I have also done quite a bit of hitch-hiking throughout the states…does that count??

The most fun i ever had backpacking was in the most unexpected of places. After couch surfing through california, biking all over wine country, i ended up spending twenty days in Oakland, of all places.
I only intended on staying there for a night before i caught a flight to the midwest, out of San Francisco, but Oakland wouldn’t quit the awesome. I saw everything from an outdoor art gathering turn into an orgy to a punk-all-girl-lady-gaga cover band show turn into a cypher! I ended up emptying my backpack into a donation box in order to make room for priceless mementos.

I’d love to go backpacking through Yosemite! Pick me, pick me!

I’ve never been! We’ve have our annual canoeing trips, but never backpacking. So I guess I’ll go with future trip! I’d love to go backpacking through Europe (or more recently, Iceland, have you seen that post a few days ago?), to visit as many art museums as I can afford and paint.

Herschel makes the best bags! They’re perfect for backpacking along the lovely Appalachian Trail in Georgia- where I’m from!

Love Herschel and all their products! The quality of work is one of a kind! If I win I would love to go backpacking in the Phillipines! Plan on going back to my homeland!

I would love to backpack switzerland, i was there for a few days a couple of years ago, but with this backpack who knows how long i will be there!

I live in Mississippi. I would like to go backpacking in Arkansas. Arkansas is really pretty.

Oh man! A new backpack would be nice for my road trip around the Midwest next summer!!!!!

Dear Jeff,

I had nothing to lose really. I was eighteen and I found myself in a challenge. I was in in love with a forbidden romance, I scraped by to study art in Santa Fe, and I was living on the streets, dumpster diving to pay heed to my hunger. Things were falling apart. I got kicked out of college because I couldn’t keep up with my tuition, my community ties were breaking, and my happiness plundered with other temptations. I had to get out.

I sold all of my possessions, which consisted of a guitar, a microwave, clothes, and some paintings. Once I had enough funds to feel comfortable, I told my lady at the time that I was on my way out. Requiting her infatuation, she dropped everything of hers and followed the treacherous trail I led. We copped two rucksacks and threw an outfit or two inside, along with the essentials; for me a hunting knife and a canteen for her.

We made it to Nogales in a few days. The clear issue of translation was removed once we crossed the border. I was fluent enough to sweet talk cute Mexican girls, so I already knew I had an edge. We jumped on a bus going south. It was packed and we didn’t sit together. I chopped it up with a viejita from Hermosillo, who engaged me by relating my persona to one of her mijos. The bus played an American movie with Spanish subtitles, which was what I was trying to get away from.

The bus was a b-line to Mexico City. Four days on this bus was atrophying my limbs. While sleeping, we rear-ended the shit out of this truck. I woke up feeling like I was in the shower, realizing the water was actually windshield glass. I though it a great excuse to stop and stretch. To no avail, we kept going.

We finally made it to the biggest city in the world, at one point of course. The first thing was to get the hell off this bus and spread out into the urban landscape. The zocalo was enroute. I was excited to see some danza Azteca in the plaza. Instead, there were local bboys showcasing some flashy sets. With a strong background in breakdancing, the irony was starting to get annoying.

The sun went down. As once explained to me, don’t stay in the city afterdark, shit happens. We had our fill. So we jetted to one of the seven bus stations in town, looking for the next bus to Oaxaca. We bought our tickets and took a load off. I stood up to get a Coke and the only person who was at my height in the room shot a glare at me. I can’t really explain it but Native Americans know when other Native Americans are around. The only two brown guys above six feet were at a stand still. It happened to be Junior, a local of Albuquerque and one of the youngest Native doctors I knew! Crazy enough, we had tickets to the same destination, with the same bus. We celebrated with a beer, naturally, and since he was a lightweight, the bus operators gave us grief. I used my ambassador/flirting skills to make a worthy argument. My neurons have never fired so fast.

We spent a week or two in Oaxaca, Oaxaca, and it was glorious, for the most part. In this time, we washed our clothes in the sink, ate tacos, and made friends with local graffiti writers, who looked more like ex-convicts, which they were. My lady and I were free and high on love. The hostel was more like our premature honeymoon suite.

One night out, a saucy senorita advanced on me and she was insanely gorgeous! My neurons couldn’t fire fast enough. No matter. She was interested in other things. Feeling like a telenovela tramp, I realized my true love could never be challenged by some hussie, even though she made me feel like Antonio Banderas and she like Salma Hayek.

Next day, we went the plaza and grabbed some ice cream. I knew I had to do the “deed” once the top scoop of strawberry fell on the cobblestone. Gesturing to pick up the dessert, I got on my knee and I asked my love to marry me. Of course, she said “for how long?” Just playing. So we celebrated and went to Chiapas to celebrate in a locked-down San Cristobal with EZLN, the Zapatista army. They were on the heels of the Otra Compana, or “the other campaign.” We were on the beginning of another campaign…

There is a lot more I can tell, but I will leave the essence of what backpacking means to me at that. I was about being fearless, taking charge of the will, using the tools at hand, and making the most of what life brings every second. The marriage didn’t work out, but I still have that worn-out rucksack.

My story isn’t really a great tale, but it’s a memorable hike that was incredibly fun.

My brother, girlfriend, and myself all set out to conquer Fossil Springs over the weekend. It’s a popular backpacking trip here in Arizona as it isn’t a super long distance and has some good swimming.

We began our hike on a pretty clear day, put on our gear and started to trek along. About a mile into the hike, grey clouds started looming in the distance. We thought nothing of it, just some light rain most likely, plus we brought panchos with us.

CRACK-BOOM! That’s the sound of lightning striking inside of the canyon that we are walking into toward Fossil Springs. It’s insanely loud and bright as you can see it striking not that far in the distance. To top this, it is raining like crazy! There not much else you can do when hiking down into a canyon other than keep on trekking. It was truly terrifying and awesome.

Finally, as we near our final destination, the sky opens up and we’re able to take off our panchos. We set up camp right next to the creek and start to do our camping activities. Went and chilled by a huge pond that has a rope swing to jump into it. Night came, we had a terrible dinner and a terrible fire as all the wood was wet. Still, had lots of fun, especially when a spider found it’s way inside of our tent.

The next day, we had to hike out. Loaded up water from the spring and treated it so we don’t get sick.

The hike out was absolutely terrible. It was like hiking a staircase for miles with no signs of it leveling off. Probably why I hate hiking in canyons, the way out always sucks. To top it off, it was stupid humid thanks to the fresh rain and a brutal sun. My girlfriend cursed the entire way up and cursed nature, it was hilarious. We made, feasted at a local diner and drove home.

I just got my favorite bag stolen from the train when I fell asleep for a brief moment. Luckely my keys, wallet and phone where in mij pocket. But my favorite moment with the bag would have been when we traveled to Berlin by train. It took us forever but the bag was packed with nice food and drinks wich we shared with other taverlers who became our friends after.

I climbed up Mt. Sinai in Egypt with some friends, and some strangers (including a group of Korean nuns, and pilgrims from Brazil.) We climbed in the darkness, but we saw everything clearly, because without light pollution, the stars were all the light we needed. When the sun rose over the horizon the nuns and pilgrims separately broke out into a hymn that rolled off the mountain and into the desert. I was and am still pretty damn grateful to have been on that mountain top.

I’d go here: Dismals Canyon in NW Alabama – they have these things that glow. Not sure if they are animals or plants but they are MAGIC.

went hiking in my home country norway along the fjords. probably the best hiking experience you will ever be a part of.

Georgia!

every since i was young i always wanted to go to greenland.

This is so cool! Give me one~

Isla del sol, Bolivia

Pagosa Springs, CO

Last August I worked at a Bistro and lodge in southwest Colorado. I lost my job–and thus my place to live–and decided to rough it in the woods. I packed up my gear and lived beside a creek in the San Juan Nat’l forest. I was alone save the coyotes who cried and called at nigh, and a bear I amiably named pooh who ate berries off the nearby bush and played in the creek. It was a time of being alone and utterly relying on my gear and nature. It was then and there that I realized how very natural everything is. My synthetic tent, my stove, were made from by-products that at some point came from this earth.

Hiking the John Muir Trail through Yosemite down to Mount Whitney.

I went backpacking in Lander, Wyoming the summer I graduated from high school. We came across a 20 foot waterfall and took turns jumping into it, where the water was freezing cold. I could only handle the plunge a few times before I had to lay out on the rocks to defrost. It was the most phenomenal time and I hope I get to adventure like that again sometime.

I am going backpacking in Europe this July with 4 friends I met while I did a four month study abroad in Finland a year ago for painting and printmaking. I’ve maintained great friendships and can not wait for more adventures!

I’ve never gone backpacking, but I’d love to in Japan. There’s something strangely haunting about their forests.

I’m going to Spain and Ireland this fall and plan on hiking/backpacking a ton!

My boyfriend is going abroad for 5 months starting in May 2012 to work on various farms throughout the UK as well as nomadic sheep herding in Austria to gain experience for the farm we’re going to hopefully own sometime in the near future. This backpack would be perfect for him (or for me when we meet up halfway when I join him on his trip!)

Something I’ve always daydreamed about is the fanstasy of my little brother and I getting lost in the woods and becoming hardcore survivalists. Well this summer we decided to hike out to a little plot of land 20 miles from our house with only one can of beans, a knife, water, and our sleeping supplies. We ended up eating the beans right when we arrived and forgot to collect wood for a fire. So with nothing to do in pitch black and not knowing what time it is (since, we purposefully left out clocks at home) we decide to go to bed. But I thought there were too many spiders on the ground because I saw them when it was light out. So I had to hop in brothers hammock. In the hammock we had to scissor for balance and talked for a while. That is until we heard animal outside our brotherly cocoon sniffing the can of beans. Scared out of our mind we decide to book it out of the woods on the count of three.
When three came we ran as fast as we can until we found an IHOP parking lot. Which is where we slept for the remainder of the night. When coming home the next day we made a pact the never speak of this again to anyone close to us.

I went backpacking in India a few years ago. It was great fun, my friend and I stayed in the mountains up north, a little town called McLeod Ganj, the place where the Dalai Lama has his residence in exile. After a few days of being in the country I had the misfortune of eating a dirty mango. My stomach did not take that well. We were boarding a bus to get back to Delhi but earlier that day everything that I had been eating started making it’s way back…very rapidly. I had to be near a bathroom constantly as every five minutes I was in a dire need to use one.
However, the tickets were already purchased and we had to embark on a six hour, very very bumpy ride in the mountains. There were no bathrooms on the bus…or anywhere along the route…not that the driver would be stoping for me every minute or so.
While everyone was on the bus waiting to depart, my backpack was already loaded, I was in a nearby grocery store unloading and freaking out about a trip that I had to take, walking was too much movement for me and I was not sure how I could last all the way to Delhi.
Not sure how it all worked out but we got to Delhi that night, I didn’t shit my pants (although I used up almost a whole roll or precious toilet paper to make a makeshift diaper) and ended up having a great month in the country, with some similar stories throughout my trip.

I’ve never been hard-core backpacking, but I did some light hiking in the Grand Canyon during winter with my family. The sights were breathtaking. There was so much snow and the hike turned into a snowball fight. This was my first time seeing snow, so it was incredibly memorable. Merry Christmas!

I’d love to go backpacking in Machu Picchu.

I was backpacking through the national forests all through Arizona for a while. I stopped near Canyon De Chelly in Navajo land on my way to the Hopi Reservation and we started talking about skin walkers (Native american spirits that can manifest any animal) and i totally scared the crap outta myself. Made a fire and cooked some snacks. I was sleeping in a clark jungle hammock so i had to find 2 small juniper trees which was kinda hard in the middle of the desert. So after i made some snacks and was gettin ready for bed, 2 dogs from the reservation were sneakin around and scaring me, one totally looked possessed and i was scaring myself so bad thinkin about skin walkers. So i went to bed, and left my bag clipped, tied and secured closed when i went to bed. I heard some noise at night slung my hammock open to catch some kinda creature running away from where i was, and again scared the shit outta myself thinkin about skin walkers again. A few hours later i was woken up by some animal smelling my butt hangin down in the sleeping bag. I was hung up pretty high so i got freaked out again because it was too tall for a dog to sniff my butt. I woke up in the morning my back pack was unclipped, untied open, and 10 feet away, the food was gone, but the messed up thing was that my sketch book and tied art supply kit was gone and i found it under a tree and open with a pencil out. I never saw the dogs again, so i think they were spirits, and i packed up and made my way to Second Mesa Hopi reservation. NO JOKE! I love back packing!! PLEASE GIVE ME THIS BAAAAAGGGGG.

Backpacking in Vietnam from Saigon to Hanoi. Absolutely breathtaking country.

OMG, I WANT IT!!! It’ll be my perfect Christmas gift this year!!
I love hiking, especially with my uncle and cousins when I visited Switzerland last summer.
It was between 1000-2000m high up in the mountains- GORGEOUS scenery in every direction/angle you turn, it’s really THE utopia…all those snow mountains & the alps were close by too! What made it memorable is that my uncle doesn’t like taking the roads provided for hikers…we rolled/walked down those mountains through the most scary and dangerous paths..right by the cliff sides!! Not to mention there were no fences too! It started raining right when we walked down the mountain that day..I must admit, it’s one of the most scary/dangerous things I’ve ever did & I loved every minute of it!! I hope I can visit that place again soontime and be in that utopia again..maybe this time we’ll stick to some “path”.
I need to find some places to go hiking around where I am (Canada), but man! I’ve been dying to get one of these bags!!!!

I haven’t done any backpacking…yet. My friend Meda & I are planning a trip for the summer before we turn 40 (birthdays are in the fall & winter). I have done some canoeing with a group of people in Wisconsin when I lived there. It was an overnight trip down the Wisconsin River & with the exception of feeling like a misfit with this group I had a really good time.

I go camping tons, but never backpacking. Hopefully I’ll get to give it a try sometime and when I do, I’d love to go to Banff!

I haven’t been backpacking, yet. I can think of no better reason to go then to have one of these fine backpacks and hike the many scenic areas of the Great Northwest! Thanks!

I was a leader of an outdoors program at my college. On my first trip I lead 10 young women along the A-T for several nights. We were on a steep sections of trail and needed to move quickly to make sure we caught the bus awaiting our arrival on the last day to pick us up and bring us back to the college. One day, after our lunch break, we were walking on the trail and heard a rustling noise–it was like leafs blowing in the wind but louder and more distinct. As it got more audible we could see a mass of black objects moving on the ground ahead of us on the trail. The young women I was leading began to get scared and started freaking out. I tried to calm them down and told them we would be safer if we were quiet. I approached first, slowly and trying to hide my own fear. Finally it became clear that we had stumbled upon a heard of about 100 baby piglets wandering the New England woods! They were all about the size of very plump cats, but hairier and more noisy. Their snouts all raised at the sight of us and they wobbled away like penguins across the trail in front of our feet. We just stared in amazement and tried not to anger them. (Though they were small, 100 of them was still fairly intimidating.) In time, they passed and we finished our trip safely. My most bizarre camping story!

i love this backpack! i just moved to nyc to start graduate school and the amount of stuff i need to lug has become over whelming this back would be perfect to make my way through the crazy city.

I’ve never really done any legit backpacking. I’ve always dreamed of backpacking around Iceland or Nepal. The landscapes of both regions are just beautifully secluded. I’ve always been a person who enjoys spending time by myself, or 1 or 2 other people. Besides the millions of photo-ops, I feel like Nepal and/or Iceland would be the ultimate place for me to backpack, and have a life changing experience!

The most fun I have ever had was backpacking around South America. I ended up in Ecuador for New Years, in this tiny beach town called Montanita. By day it was a sleepy little surf town. Perfect sandy beaches, beautiful waves, awesome day activities liek ziplining through the mountains, but at night this place was the definition of the den of inequity.
New years was amazing. Fireworks on the beach, people passed out by 12:03. Incredible.
Too bad I lost the camera I had with most my pictures from that night on it.
I’ll never forget it though. Nor will I ever forget the friends I made while I was there.

I’ve never gone backpacking but I can imagine myself with everything I need trekking across the land of Iceland. It sounds typical because everyone wants to go there but it really is a beautiful country. My high school sophomore earth science teacher got me interested in it ever since he came back from Iceland himself and told us his stories. Then Urban Outfitters’ recent catalog got me a lot more interested. I was imagining me carrying my whole closet with me snapping photos of every abstract scene I saw composed by ice and steam and the sky. The trip would conclude in a nice hot springs treatment. With this bag or not, I will go to Iceland and do these exact things.

My father took me back to the mountains/hills in Sudbury that he used to climb with his brothers back when he was a kid. Back when he would wake up, eat, go climbing,and be home for dinner. No phones, no safety gear at all, just him and his brothers.

He took me and my brother there and we visited spots he still remembered. Just a backpack full of odds and ends and a lunch for the three of us to enjoy on the rocky hillside.

It was nice.

1998. Streets of Amsterdam. I was supposed to stay at a hotel for 4 nights then head to Paris. Lived out of my backpack and dwelled on peoples couches for ten moons instead. Loved every minute of it. I’m especially thankful for my trusty backpack… she is no longer with us, may her soul rest in peace. We were inseparable; things have never been the same. That backpack even got me laid once (I’ll leave that story or another time)! BOOOOOOOM, help me get over my loss?

i’d love to ride through wyoming again but not before i get to alaska. it’s pretty up there when you’re picking wild blueberries and eating salmon caught off from the river.

When I was 14 my friend Tim took me hiking in the Adirondacks. It was October and there was a foot and a half of snow for our hike. I tried not to complain because no one else was, and when we reached the top of the mountain his Dad boiled some awful hot dogs for lunch. That was the best meal of my life.

Last August I had some solo hitch hiking adventures in South Eastern BC. I took photos of all my rides and wrote a little about the sketch bags that picked me up. Read about in this blog post:

http://shouldercat.blogspot.com/2011/11/hitch-hiking-adventures.html

Last summer, riding freight trains and hitchhiking the U.S. from coast to coast, carrying not much more than a sleeping bag and a pocket knife stuffed into an old jansport backpack. Feeling the wind whipping against my face while rolling through a picturesque forest that most people will never get to see. Watching the sun rise in the Appalachians as a heavy mountain mist dissolved. The meditative feeling that is a mixture of both helplessness and the freedom that is experienced when riding an iron giant on an unknown route to an unknown destination. Running the gamut of emotions where euphoria, fear, despair, and hope are all experienced within a single day . Spending nights sleeping in an empty storage unit, on a downtown rooftop, or cuddled up under a canopy of trees with some new friends who share a similar outlook on life. Hitching a ride with the most unexpected of people, weather it be from a kind hearted ex-convict or a young family taking the kids on a road trip. Meeting incredible new people that you know will be a part of your life forever. The adventure that affirmed the following: the world is full of amazing people, and certain things are best left to chance.

would love to backpack around in japan!

Living in upstate New York, I’ve been able to go on some fantastic hikes in the Adirondacks that I am so partial to… Yet unfortunately, I haven’t been able to go backpacking and stay in the mountains for more than a day or two. I would love to do that this coming summer! A quality backpack would be more than appreciated!

An accidental trip while on a rafting trip in Mexico. All the rafts but one got destroyed in some unexpected low white water, we had to hoof it out, it took about a week and we got lost twice. Some good times.

Possibly a strange desire, but I’ve always wanted to backpack between small towns in Iowa. It might even be considered anti-backpacking, but there’s something about the complete lack of scenery that makes me think that it might be something worthwhile to do.

I’d hop trains, like the Midnight Ghost in Dharma Bums, around the coast of California and hike mountains.

If I had a chance to go to the Philippines again, I’d backpack up and around Bagio to see how much it has changed, but I’d go during the summer, when it is raining, because it’s gorgeous then.

I would go from Montreal to Fairbanks (AL) to see where Chris McCandless died. Also, maybe go down the west coast to see California in the summer. Hitchicking. My god. Hitchicking. F*ck yeah.

I was hiking in kananaskis, in Alberta, and we were crossing this river, over a log and I my foot got caught on a twig that was pointing up, and I tripped and fell in the water.

I’ve always dreamed of backpacking through New Zealand. The landscape looks so beautiful and untouched. Sometimes when, I’m stressed out or going through a hard time, I close my eyes and imagine myself on top of a green hill, breathing the fresh air.
It works, try it!

I’ve never really been backpacking but the closest though would be probably on family visits to the Philippines where we would be hiking in the mountains to get to some relative’s houses. I would love to go backpacking around Europe as I have never been.

I recently backpacked my way through Ireland and Scotland. The trip was amazing, however, supbar equipment did put a damper on it at times. Specifically, my bag was an old army surplus bag held together by safety pins and compression straps. This lead to several fiascos, including but not limited to- a rain damaged journal, the bag getting stuck in baggage equipment at the airport, and a skirmish breaking out between me and the French man sleeping in the hostel bunk below me. The fight happened when a croissant I was saving for later slipped through a hole in my bag and down onto the Frenchman, hitting him square on the head and spraying flakey bits of day old bread all over him and his sleeping bag. He woke me up irrate, cursing in french and yelling “le pain le pain”. Who knows how smoothly my adventures could go (or how many international friends I could not lose) with functional equipment!

Well, I would like to come by the woods of northern america for a stay, so I could atleast participate to this contest, because I think that backpack is gorgeous. Had my eye on a navy one back a while.

Good luck all you lucky americans!

i would like to go backpacking in germany, australia and new zealand! due to lack of funds, i’ve never been able to go on trips like that… but it sure is nice to dream. and with a lovely backpack like this, i feel like i could have many adventures in my future!

i would like this for when i move to washington state in a couple of months. there is a lot more areas out there to backpack than here in wisconsin.

I would love to go with the backpack to Italy

id take it on my motorcycle tour after i graduate and after my trip to china seeing the country side where my parents grew up. seeing my roots. seeing what my parents left behind to give us our start in america.

After traveling through Scotland, England, Spain, and France, my friend and I were happily trekking through Italy. The two of us, both young artists happily photographing our little hearts out, were wandering through a small town outside of Venice.

As we turned a street corner, we were met by an elderly woman – a beggar. She was holding out her hand and demanding that we give her money. “For your foto!” she would say over and over again. I was very confused as my friend rushed me away from her, explaining to her that he had no idea what she was talking about.

He later explained to me that he had photographed the woman while she was sitting on the street much earlier in the day and was surprised that she had followed us so far.

Only two days later, we both began having nightmares involving the woman. In one of my dreams, I opened the fridge to find her there yelling at me, “For your foto!” amidst Kraft singles and expired milk. These dreams ensued for weeks, both of us. Almost nightly.

I’m convinced to this day that the gypsy woman cursed us for what my friend did. I will never photograph a beggar without paying. Ever.

The rest of the trip was totally fun, though! Gypsy magic aside …

If I win the bag, I’ll do an amazing impression of the woman for you and post it online …

JM

I’ve only gone backpacking once; in the western sierras. I just remember waking up to wolves howling every morning and it makes me want to be there all the time!

Been backpacking in Germany with my friend. An elderly couple caught us up in the highway, took for ~500 km and we ended up in drinking wine in their garden with nice view of vineyard in Schwarzwald.

I grew up hearing my father tell stories of his years motorcycling and backpacking through Europe in his heyday. Whether it was getting run off the road in Bitburg by a hunchback Canadian or witnessing a revolution in Greece, he has always had had a story about his times in Europe to entertain his friends and family. After graduating from high school, my father’s present to me was a 60-liter backpack and a plane ticket to Europe. His intentions, obviously, were for me to enjoy similarly unforgettable times abroad as he had 35 years prior.

When he gave me the backpack and the plane ticket, I immediately started planning meticulously for my adventure ahead. This planning resulted in a day-by-day agenda that included all of the sights possible for a 27-day trip, spanning 5 countries and hundreds of miles. I felt that I had planned a trip that Rick Steves himself would be jealous of. This planning, however, left little room for “error” as a traveler. High pressure for an 18 year-old traveler trying to have the time of his life, right?

A week into my trip, I had taken my backpack through the pristine hillsides of Tuscany, along the canals of Venice, and the… rainy streets of Munich. I kept to my travel plans, but was not enjoying those “unforgettable times” that my father so colorfully reflected upon throughout my childhood. Frustrated and exhausted, I went for a beer in Munich. It turned out that Germany was playing in a big soccer match that evening, so I ended up meeting several friendly Germans over a few beers at a public viewing event (catered by the Hofbrausaus, no less). In a conversation with an especially intoxicated Bavarian, I elaborated on my plans for the rest of my time in Europe. His slurred response was simply, “It sounds like you’re too organized to have any fun.”

At that point, I realized the reason that I wasn’t accumulating those “great stories”. I was using my backpack as a suitcase—a device for structured travel—rather than using it for its intended purpose, which is spontaneous, unencumbered adventure. The backpack is meant to be able to go anywhere its owner wants, on a whim. I was too busy seeing everything that I had read in the travel guides to really enjoy traveling on my own. This encounter with a drunken German allowed for me to realize that traveling was as much about learning about myself as it was seeing the world around me, and that my backpack (and my willingness to use it) was the only thing that would allow me to do that.

After changing my philosophical outlook on the bag strapped around my shoulders, I tackled the rest of my trip with a vestige of my previous priority of planning, and a new willingness to take the adventurous, unplanned path as I came upon it. Much thanks to this new outlook, my final weeks in Europe churned out some of the best memories of my life. From Germany, I hiked/camped through the Alps where I lived off of the best cheese I’ve ever had in my life, went to Rome where I randomly met an alum of the college that I’m currently attending, and ended up spending the last night of my trip celebrating Bastille Day in Paris. I met some amazing people, saw some amazing things, and pushed my backpack to its limits both physically and philosophically.

I was writing something long and awesome about Machu Picchu that would have been as entertaining and delightful as anything you could have read innn lets sayyyy an old issue of MissBehave Mag. But guess what? It somehow got deleted.. So, I’m taking it as a sign. Give me a bag. Im gonna be famous one day. And I’ll tell everyone about how dope this blog is. While I back pack in Peru with BBC recording my each and every inhale.

Danke
KALAE

I always go backpacking in holidays!! holidays are not real holidays if you take your whole house with you!!! I’ve been backpacking in Scandinavia last year for 12 days, nothing booked apart from the flight and a car to go around. It has been one of the cheapest holidays of y life (and there is very difficult) but we managed to spend less being host of some of our friends, sleeping in the car in the mid of the fjords and couchsurfing!!! We’ve been through Sweden, Norway and Denmark, each day deciding what to do!
It has been very exciting!!!!
I know I’m from Italy but I have friends in USA so if I win it they’ll send me!!!!

PLEASE i want it!!!

raining outside. stayed at home

i whant !

puss / pia sweden!

After doing a university exchange to Perth I decided to do a road trip to Melbourne, on the other side of Australia. It took me and my eight friends eight days in two small rental vans to get there. We drove straight through the desert, where at many points along the way we almost ran out of gas before the next station, or had to spend the night in a gas station parking lot and wait for it to open. At every point we stopped at, we would make sure to get out of the car and do a dance before anything else. We did a dance on the longest straight road in the world, in the desert, on some cliffs, near a waterfall, on the beach, near some kangaroos and at some wineries. When we finally arrived in Melbourne we didn’t make the rental place before it closed, and had to pay for another day plus a late fee. Since everyone blew their budget on the high gas prices through the desert I had to foot the bill for all of it. But, even though I ended up poor at the end of the trip, I’m glad I did it and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

As a kid, my backyard went on for miles, literally. Living in the country afforded me the opportunity to backpack, imagine, and fulfill my wildest dreams without ever leaving the “safety” of my own “backyard”.

When I was seventeen, I spend a bunch of months in Israel. Israel’s really narrow, so a common backpacking trip is to hike straight across the country, from the Sea of Galilee to the Mediterranean Sea, a hike which takes about three days. There are a number of different routes to take, and they sell maps that show all of the various routes. Unfortunately, my friends and I did not have much foresight at the time. We decided to take the trip the night before, and the six of us quickly scrounged together the few supplies we had and threw them into the largest bags we could find. We brought what we thought was a good amount of water and food, and figured we’d be able to navigate our way to the various springs and fountains along the way.

We couldn’t. By the second day, our water was used up, and the one spring we were able to find was dried up. Fortunately, the route we were taking was commonly used for single day trips as well, and we passed by several elementary school classes who were out on shorter hiking expeditions. We wound up begging water off of elementary school kids who had a lot more water than they needed and didn’t want to carry the heavy bottles any more. Not my proudest moment, but I made it home to tell the tale.

Oh, and we ran out of food on the third day, and if we hadn’t managed to find our way to a road by nightfall, we’d've been in serious trouble…

Me and my friend were back packing along this trail up to Needles fire look out. Clear weather all the way up; we had lunch up there when out of no where we see storm clouds coming in. So I say, ” time to book it,” we start running down the trail (the trail is roughly 2 and a half miles long) and as we get a quarter mile in its starts raining and hailing golf balls. We see a flash of light 100 ft away with an almost instantaneous boom. We start running faster. A good portion of the trail is up hill and the rain was coming down so hard, it starts to create mudslides coming at us from the trail. All my clothes were drenched and I went to the side underneath a ponderosa and created a quick little shelter so I could protect myself and my friend from the worse. It wasn’t getting better so we started to run through ice cold uphill waters for a mile and finally we reached the car.

italy please

I have no grandiose backpacking trips under my belt as of yet…but my partner and I are hoping to do a Oregon Coast Bike trip (this summer or next) – hitting each beach along the way. Should be lovely. ♥

my brother and myself once went backpacking from vancouver to washington to go see the Sasquatch music festival. we did not have tickets or a tent or blankets. but we figured it would all work out in the end. well to make a long story short, we managed to make the staff of the event believe that we were media and they gave us both all access media passes for the remainder of the festival. so not only were we allowed to get in for free, but we were also allowed to bypass all the lines, and get to the very front of every show!

Jeff, send me one of those backpacks. Please please please!

I take surf trips all over with just two bags; a backpack and a boardbag… this bag would take some epic trips, hook it up!

I was doing a section of the john muir trail with two friends of mine. We had stopped at one of the scenic vista points, miles away from anyone (or so we thought) and decided to have a “success joint”. We couldn’t have been smoking it for more than thirty seconds when a ranger comes barreling around a bend in the trail. He approches us with a frown and says “What do we have here, a bunch of potheads looking for a citation?” To which my best friend responds to by grabbing our large cooking pot off the side of my backpack, placing it on his head and shouting back, “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know there was anything wrong with being a pothead, but you see we have not pans.” Everyone broke down in laughter, including the ranger. He found it so funny he let us off with a warning, promising we wouldn’t smoke anything else we might have on us until we had hit the higher ridges without dry brush. Fantastic trip.

Last summer my buddy and I took a week long camping trip in Yosemite Park. After a few days of hanging out together 24/7 we decided to spend the next day apart. So the next morning, he went east and I went west. When we met back up at the campsite that night he asked me what I did. I told him I found a stream so I followed it and it led me to a big blue lake. I swam, sunbathed, and sketched in my sketchbook. “What did you do?” I asked him. He told me he found some railroad tracks so he followed them. They led him to a girl tied to the tracks! So he untied her and they had crazy sex! Like all day, every position! I was like woah!!!! “Did she give you a blow job too?” I asked. And he replied, “No, I couldn’t find her head.”

I’d go to China and pack a cute baby panda in the bag, grr.

I would love to backpack across Iceland, because I am constantly inspired by this video: http://vimeo.com/31158028

On the hottest day in summer, when the hair on my neck is clinging to my wet skin, and the air in my neighborhood is hazy with pollen and heat, I pack a cold bottle of water wrapped in a thread-bare quilt in my Herschel backpack. I throw in some sunscreen, my 35 mm Nikon with black and white film, and a granny smith apple because they are the most tart kind of apple and biting them makes my face scrunch as though I were biting into a lemon. I throw the bag on my back, jump on my old rusty, under-used bicycle and head to the creek, to find a quiet piece of grass, to lay out my quilt, to jump in the cold mountain water, leaving my clothes tucked carefully under the bag so they don’t tumble away in a stray summer wind, one I would be grateful for. But the wind never comes.

I’m planning on backpacking through Europe. I’ve been waiting to find someone to do it with but I might end up having to do it alone. I’ve always wanted to see Spain, Greece and Italy, I have relatives in Germany and I won’t consider a life fully lived not having been to Paris. I want to photograph and paint my experiences here. If I die before I get the chance to, I’ll have myself cremated and leave the remainder of my money to my closest loved ones so they can spread my ashes in all of the places I never got to visit, to make sure the experience won’t be wasted.

Growing up in the back woods of Maine has given me plenty of time to hike around. I was with a group of friends who were hiking on the shared boarder with Canada, when one of our friends took a nasty tumble, breaking right his leg. The nearest medical center was some small hospital on the Canadian side. As a bunch of Americans it was difficult for him to get treatment due to paperwork and such. In the end they gave him a cot and set his leg in the hallway. When it was all said and done they told him they didn’t want any money except $20 for the crutches and told him to leave. 9hr car ride home, but his leg is fine.

Ive lived on the west coast my whole life. My parents were both landscape photographers and i’ve pretty much been everywhere in Arizona, Utah, Colorado, and California. I would really like to see something completely different, If I could go anywhere next, I would like to go to Nepal. I would like to camp in the mountains for a month, and bring a 4X5 camera. I think my parents would have liked to do that too.

Tired, hungry, and wet, I huddled in my sleeping bag against the frigid ground – attempting to sleep after a day of trudging through the ice-cold rain. Wind roared through the trees overhead, whipping flakes of snow against the tent. I ended day 1 of my first (ever) backpacking trip sleepless and thinking: Why did I ever agree to go on this hike? Two days and 25 miles of trail later, me and the four other guys were at our destination, Mt. Sunapee, NH. We finished it off by sliding down the slushy, closed ski slopes, using our backpacks as sleds. Our journey ended with the wind whipping our smiling faces as we zipped down the mountain strapped to our bags. I have forever since been hooked on taking to the wilderness with a backpack.

I went backpacking in croatia a few years back. After a long day of excitement we found that our planned campsite was overly full and just didn’t look very enticing altogether. So we figured we’ll walk a little further and just pass out wherever it feels right. After finding a location, drinking a few bottles of wine – yes, not a very long hiking trip, very bourgeois, good cheese, wine, and harmonicas – we finally called it a night.
And now imagine me waking up the next morning, pretty much at sunrise – at that time of the year the sun gets very bright and hot pretty much immediately after rising – hungover, no, not hungover, still drunk, trying to find my glasses, and then 20 minutes later finding them, only to realize we had chosen a nudist beach as our campsite.
Beautiful beach, we stayed for hours and made some interesting friends.

1999, a Tuesday: I saw Blair Witch Project. I guffawed and chortled. I was not scared. I told everyone I knew not to be scared either.

The next Friday: I went canoeing and camping in Algonquin Park with a couple of friends. It was gorgeous; we were hopeless. We got lost trying to find our first portage landing.

On the Saturday: Nearing sundown, thanks to a general lack of attention and a series of easily avoidable gaffes, I end up separated from my friends. I cover the length of a 6 km portage trail trying to find them, still thinking those jerks are just hiding behind trees until I reach the edge of the next body of water. Unfortunately, they are carrying the canoe and tent, I am carrying the paddles and backpack filled mostly with our food. I try to laugh at this, but can’t manage to do so without a pinch of dread. Night begins to settle in, followed abruptly by a heavy rainstorm. My smile abandons me. As I wander around in the dark, dithering from one sopping trail offshoot to another, my shirt and bag sagging, my brow knotting itself, my mind ablaze with morbid possibility and my nerves shot, I realize that Blair Witch Project was actually kind of scary.

On the Sunday morning: Reeling from a stressful and exhausting night, my friends and I call for a ride from the first ranger station we come across, unwilling to finish the canoe route we had planned at the risk of having to stick together through another nightfall.

Bolivian Bus Adventure

After 3 great days in Sucre I was ready to move on to Samaipata, a town known for relaxation and rejuvinaton. An hour before my bus was scheduled to depart, I was enjoying a final beer with a fellow backpacker when Sucre was hit with a torrential downpour. I jumped in a taxi, grabbed my bag at the hostel and through the crowded streets ad fogged over windows we made our way to the bus station. Other than the wet clothes, the ride started out like many other overnight rides in South America. I took my seat in the front row of the top deck, next to Kenti from Japan and across the aisle from two young Israeli backpackers. We chatted about out travels and sharred snacks as the bus pulled out of town starting our 13 hour trip benieth what was now a sprinkle of rain.

Althought it wasn´t a semi-cama (almost bed) seat I had become acustomed to in Argenitina and Chile, the Trans Illimani bus seemer compared to its Bolivian counterparts. An hour into the ride we pulled to a stop behind a large flatbed truck. I couldn´t see what was ahead but Kenti could. He told us, in his limited English and Spanish, that all he could see the road was washed out by a big river. We joined a few of our fellow Bolivian passengers and got off the bus to check it out. Sure enough 75 feet of road was covered by a foot of rushing water. No one was quite sure whether this meant we where turning back to Sucre or if we where going to wait it out. We waited, we took pictures, we at some more snacks and 45 minutes later after a back-hoe had taken a pass at the road it was our turn. From our front row seat we watched as the bus pulled to the rushing water´s edge then the driver hit the gas and we charged ahead. I thought at any moment we might get swept away but we made it across. Everyone cheered, we assumed the hardest part of the trip was behind us. We settled into our seats and watched the sun set over the Bolivian Andes.

About an hour later, on one of the countless (un-guardrailed) switchbacks, we felt the back tires slide toward the mountain. The driver and his assistant jumped out with flashlights and shovels to survery the situation. 30 minutes later we had not moved. The assistant came to the top deck and told everyone to get off the bus. 60 men, women, and children stepped from the bus and into the rain. The road was muddy and hills where dark. Kenti stood with his umbrella, joined by two monthers trying to keep the young children they where holding dry. After 45 minutes standing in the rain the women and children returned to the still stationary bus. With the help of a few too many ¨cooks in the kitchen,¨ after another 20 minutes the bus was finally free from the mud. As we climbed back on the bus the floor was completely coated in mud.

We had a hard time sleeping, we kept our eyes on the road. Another hour later we pulled toward another smaller stream of mountain runoff that had created a hole on one side. This time we where the only ones there. The assistant got out and dipped a stick in the hole to test it´s depth. The 3 foot stick nearly dissapearred. He immediately started throwing football sized rocks in the hole. I assumed it wouldn´t work but sure enough 30 minutes later the bus pulled precariously over the makeshift road and the engine roared, a sound that was becoming increasingly comforting.

For 90 minutes we continued on through the darkness. At every sign of water Kenti and I assumed we´d get stuck. At about 2am we pulled past a couple trucks and attempted to make our way up long hill. Halfway up the bus started sliding backwards. The men all got off the bus and tried pushing the bus. No luck. We tried grateing the road with the two shovels and a pick ax. No luck. At 4 am everyone was back on the bus and the without any formal annoucement, lights where turned off. I woke up at 8am to babies crying, the smell of too many people in a closed space, and the beautiful Bolivian countryside. By 9am the road had dried and, along with the help of 20 men pushing, the bus was able to make it over the muddy hill.

All along the road where half-build drainage pipe bridges. Instead of finishing each drainage bridge as they went, they all seemed to be at the same point in construction. At each one the road diverted around the new bridge and into the drainage mud. Not 5 minutes after our uphill battle, where stuck again in one of these ditches. It took 60 minutes and a backhoe to pull out bus back onto the road. By this point all of the passenger where becoming friends, each of these stops another challenge for us to overcome together.

After 2-3 more stops in the mud, typical Bolivian music on the loudspeakers all day and more crying babies, I was finally dropped off in Samaipata at 8pm, 14 hours later than expected. Samaipata is a great town, lots of hikes, friendly locals and delicious food. After 3 days exploring the town, and avoiding the internet, I leave today for Santa Cruz. I´ll hopefully board a train, known as the ¨Death Train¨ because of the casualties during construction, on my way to the Brazilian boarder and on to Rio for Carnaval.

This past May, I was living in Glasgow, Scotland and my friend and I decided to take a trip up to the Isle of Skye to camp for a few days or a week. As we were snaking through Scotland on our way north, we were really excited but as we got closer and closer, the skies got more grey. While waiting for the shuttle that would take us to the island, it started to get rainy. We carried on. It was far too late to turn back and we had hopes of sunny skies the next day. We trekked off into the woods and soon came upon a point where we set up camp for the night, hoping that the morning would show us improvement. It didn’t, and come to find out, it was a Sunday and the shuttles didn’t run an Sundays so we either had a five mile hike off the island or we had to wait it out another day. It was quite miserable, really, but I can not say that I would ever regret the experience. Really, the whole thing made me want to try again. May-June is supposed to be the most beautiful time on Skye. We just got unlucky I guess. But it was incredibly beautiful none-the-less! Other future backpacking experiences? The Appalachian Trail!