Backpacker – August 2019

JULY/AUGUST 2019

106 BACKPACKER.COM

PHOTOS BY ISTOCK (4)

YOU UNDERESTIMATE...

MICE

You worry about bears

when bigger threats are

much smaller. Mice will

chew a hole in your pack

or tent. Store smellables

in the bear canister or

hang them.

MARMOTS

Consider them enor-

mous mice. Take normal

precautions, plus hang

anything sweat-soaked,

including packs, boots,

and trekking poles (they

really like the salt).

R AVENS

Your unprotected chow,

nevermore. Ravens scan

for food from the air, so

use a beak-proof bag

(like an OutSak) or con-

tainer to keep your food

safe from air raids.

YOU ANGLE FOR THAT MEMORABLE SELFIE.

Bison, bighorn sheep, moose, coyotes, wolves, and bears don’t “like” you. Even deer think

you’re a tool. Keep your dista nce.

You think that fuel canister will last

the whole trip. Draw a fuel gauge

on your canister and you’ll never

wonder again: backpacker

.com/fuelgauge.

Your compass is... wrong? Unlikely.

At the trailhead, don’t orient your

map when it’s sitting on your car’s

hood. All that metal can confuse

the needle.

You assume vacuum-sealed food

doesn’t smell. Maybe it doesn’t to

you, but a human’s sense of smell

is nothing compared to that of a

mouse, bear, or other animal.

You see a moose and think, awwww.

Yes, they’re kind of cute, but also

kind of blind. They might decide to

aim those dinner-plate hooves at you

just in case. Give them space.

YOU’RE

DOING IT

WRONG! WILDLIFE

MY BAD

I Peed on

a Snake.

I STEPPED DISCRETELY behind a

scrub oak in search of privacy.

It was challenging to find sneaky

pee spots, away from the crew of

teenage Boy Scouts I was leading

on a trek in New Mexico’s Philmont

Scout Ranch. It required military-

grade stealth and discretion.

No sooner had I started to go

when I was interrupted by a sound

worse than a “lost” scout. I looked

down to see what my ears already

knew: There was a very disgrun-

tled, now very wet rattlesnake

coiled between my feet. Had I

really not looked down?

I lost my balance and toppled

into the brush, shorts still sus-

pended near my knees, rattlesnake

God knows where. I tried to roll

away but was tangled in my own

clothes. Perhaps it was the com-

motion, or the Lord’s name used

very much in vain, that attracted

the attention of my very young,

very male, very Mormon crew.

The staccato shake of the rattle

continued as I squirmed in the

grass, barely managing to pull my

shorts up so that I could at least die

with dignity.

Suddenly, a loud whack, punctu-

ated by a dull thud, and the rattle

stopped. A fellow backpacking

guide had—partially—severed the

snake’s head with a McCleod tool

he’d grabbed from a nearby con-

servation work station. Another

whack finished the job. My col-

league knelt to retrieve the still-

writhing carcass as a semi-circle of

wide-eyed scouts formed around

him. I scrambled to stand, brushing

twigs from my hair.

The lesson? Safety has a hierar-

chy, and dangerous wildlife trumps

modesty every single time.

–Zoë Rom

QUICK
FIX

YOUR WAY

WHAT DO YOU DO WITH

YOUR FOOD AT NIGHT?

34%

Bear canister

45%

Bear bag

9%

Vestibule

12%

Pillow