Backpacker

28 10.2017ILLUSTRATION BY JASON SCHNEIDER``````I’M ON THE ROAD A LOTfor work, which means I’malmost always without areliable backpacking buddy.Sure, I could go alone, but I’ma social guy. As therapeutic assolo trips can be, adventureis more interesting when youshare it with someone.I’d never thought aboutgoing on a weekend tripwith a complete stranger,but when I found myself at anetworking event in Denverwith an offer to head down toGreat Sand Dunes NationalPark for two days, a light bulbwent off: Maybe this wasthe solution to my lack-of-a-partner problem.I’d always wanted to check``````out the dunes. At up to 750feet high, they’re the tallestin North America, tuckedbetween Medano Creek andthe 14,000-foot Sangre deCristo Mountains—and justfour hours south of Denver.Enter my new acquaintance,a fellow work function happyhour attendee. Thanks tosome flaky friends, hisweekend plans had justfallen through, and like me,he was itching to get out.I hadn’t brought backpackinggear, but he had spares ofeverything I’d need, a four-wheel-drive Jeep, and alocal’s knowledge.There was nothingromantic about the offer, yet``````it still felt like being proposedto on a first date.“You seem cool, man, butare we ready to share a tent?I don’t even remember yourname,” I joked.“Justin,” he said, notlaughing like I thought hewould. “Come on, what’d youcome to Colorado for? To sitaround all weekend?”A little bit forward? Sure,but he was making a lotof sense. I did want to gobackpacking, and here hewas handing it to me on aplatter. But that’s whatmade me skeptical.I wondered: Did his friendsreally bail on him, or did hekill them all?Calm down, Will. We’d metat a work event, not in a backalley. Still, what if he talkedtoo much? Or too little? Whatif he didn’t drink whiskey?Oh, what the hell, I thought.When opportunity is youronly criterion, you take whatyou can get.Justin picked me upthe next day. I was feelingoptimistic, but I sent a photoof his license plate to a``````friend, just in case he turnedout to be an axe murderer.On the road, ourconversation stuttered andstalled. I started to think I’dmade a mistake. This mightbe a long weekend.But when the dunesrose into view below theserrated Sangre de Cristos,we fell into quiet admiration.That we could sit in easysilence together was a reliefconsidering the fact thatour conversations so farhad sucked.We parked and shoulderedour packs. Following Justin’stip, I took off my shoes andhiked in my socks, whichlet me feel the massage ofthe sand without burningmy feet. He could still be apsychopath, but at least hehad good advice.Justin led the way overthe first set of dunes, andI was happy to follow. Wefound a low spot about amile in where we set up thetent, gave up on staking it inthe loose sand, and decidedto summit a nearby dune.The effort of the climb left``````THE CHALLENGEBackpack witha StrangerIs hiking with a total stranger a smart way tofind a partner—or a trail wreck unfolding one stepat a time? BY WILL McGOUGHpass failskills