SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2019
40 BACKPACKER.COMI
SAW THE PHOTOS in a magazine—
an adventurer atop a stand-up paddle-
board, her pack strapped at her feet,
cruising across a calm lake to a secluded
campsite. The realization hit me at once:
I love backpacking and I live in Hawaii,
where you can rent paddleboards on every
corner. I thought of all the coves and secret
beaches that are tough or impossible to
reach on foot. I could kayak out, sure, but
SUPing—that would be a novel adventure.
So I marked off an upcoming weekend
and took to the Internet for advice. I learned
that the average paddler covers 3 to 5 miles
per hour in calm conditions. I had SUPed a
few times. I was average.
On Friday, I rented a board from a surf
shop and set it out on my living room f loor.
Strewn around were the things I normally
bring backpacking—about 30 pounds of
gear (I’m no minimalist). Looking at it all
next to the board, it was clear I would have
to cut down. And, because my adventure
would take place on the ocean and not a
calm lake, I had to be precise with how I bal-
anced my gear. The best thing to do, I read,
was to forgo one big pack in favor of two
smaller dry sacks lashed to the front and
back of the board.I opted for my lightweight hammock over
a tent and exchanged my stove, gas canister,
and pot for bread, cheese, and snack bars.
I packed clothes, a filter, and other neces-
sities into the two dry sacks, keeping the
weight equal in each.
I arrived at the beach before sunrise. My
goal was a seldom-visited cove I’d heard
about from a friend, a few miles from the
Papohaku Beach Park on the western end
of Moloka’i. I dropped my board on the sand
a nd lashed on my gea r with bungee cords I’d
gotten from the rental shop. The wind was
blowing in toward the coast, creating plenty
of chop, and there were 5-foot waves break-
ing onshore. This was not quite the pretty,
magazine-ready scene I’d pictured.
Paddling out in the shallow surf proved
impossible, so I swam next to the board and
pushed it. Kicking with all my strength, I
fought to get out far enough to go up and over
the waves. Though my load looked light for
backpacking, it felt cumbersome here—
angry swells of whitewater repeatedly
rushed over the gear-weighted nose of the
board. By the time I made it past the break
and clambered onto my board, my enthusi-
asm and energy had all but vanished. And I
hadn’t even picked up the paddle yet.SUP INTO CAMP
It’s just like backpacking, but with a
paddleboard instead of boots. Right?
By Will McGoughMIKE ELLISSkill Set
PASS/FAIL