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The little you actually need to bring

About 12 minutes

The Little You Actually Need to Bring

People ask me about gear more than almost anything else. I think they want a list, because a list feels like control. Here's mine, and it's shorter than you'd expect.

Water, socks we've already covered, and beyond that you need less than the outdoor store wants you to think.

What actually goes in the pack

A small backpack or a waist pack, whichever you'll actually wear. Doesn't matter which. What matters is that it's small enough you're not tempted to fill it with things you don't need.

In it:

Water. We covered this already and I'm not going to make you read it twice. Bring more than you think.

A snack. Something with a little salt and a little sugar. A granola bar, some pretzels, half a sandwich if you're out longer than an hour. Nothing complicated. I'm not a nutrition person and I won't pretend otherwise, so if you want to get precise about electrolytes or timing, ask somebody who actually knows that world. I just know that a body running on empty makes worse decisions on a downhill, and downhills are where the trouble lives.

A light layer. Even in July the canyon can surprise you if a cloud rolls over or the wind picks up at a higher spot. A thin long-sleeve shirt weighs nothing and takes up no room. Bring it anyway.

Sunscreen and a hat. We sit closer to the sun here than people realize. Elevation does that. Put the sunscreen on before you leave the house, not at the trailhead when you're already late and the tube is buried at the bottom of your pack.

Your phone, charged, with a way to call for help. Not for pictures, though take pictures if you want. For the actual emergency case. Cell service in the canyon is spotty in places, so this isn't a guarantee, but it's better than nothing and it costs you zero effort to remember.

A small first aid basics kit. A couple of bandages, some moleskin for blisters, nothing elaborate. You can buy a tiny one pre-made for six or seven dollars and never think about it again until the one day you need it.

That's the list. Six things, one of them water, one of them socks I already told you about. You don't need trekking poles, you don't need a hydration system with a bladder and a tube unless you like that setup, and you don't need the watch that tracks your heart rate zones. I tried one of those for a month and gave it up, not because it didn't work but because I kept checking my wrist instead of watching the trail. I'd rather you count your own breathing. If you can talk in short sentences and not gasp, you're working at the right level. That's free and it never needs charging.

What you don't need, and I mean this

You don't need new gear to start. You need consistency. I own almost nothing fancy and I've walked this canyon for years. What separates the person who keeps doing this from the person who quits in October isn't the pack, it's whether they showed up three times a week. I'll say that plainly because I believe it and because too much of the outdoor industry is selling equipment to people who'd be better served by just going.

I think about a fellow I passed once. He went by me going uphill at a pace that made me feel old, all the right gear, moving fast. Ten minutes later I passed him again, sitting on a boulder, winded, done for a while. I didn't say anything to him. Wasn't my place. But I filed it away as proof of something I already believed. Steady wins the grade. He had better shoes than me that day and it didn't matter one bit.

One honest caution

If you're carrying anything at all, make sure the straps are snug enough that the pack doesn't shift when you're on loose rock. A pack that swings on a downhill throws your balance right when you need it most, and downhill is exactly where people get hurt. I've said that before and I'll keep saying it because it's true every single time.

Before next time

Go find whatever bag you already own, no need to buy one, and put water, a snack, and a light layer in it tonight so it's ready by the door. Small step, but it's the one that gets you out the door on the morning you're tempted to talk yourself out of it.