The initial excitement of the hike wore off after 15 minutes. The trees lost their luster as the weight of my pack distracted me from the world around. It was a two-and-a-half-mile hike of steep, vertical climb before reaching the lake; it didn’t help that I was carrying a gallon of sangria, and the weight kept my body moving on a 45° axis. When I interviewed my colleagues about where we went wrong, the resounding response was, “We started drinking on the way up.” I disagree. I found the sangria to be a strong motivational factor. When we reached the top, the gallon was half-empty, and our steps were less planned and found more often than not through miscalculation. But the view was incredible. Blue mountain water was tinged pink with the setting sun and the mountains that enclosed us on all sides reached high into the sky, so that where they met the clouds, it looked like Adam reaching out to God in the Sistine chapel.  

A band of college freshmen had claimed the nearest camping spot by the trail. We continued, finding a place farther down the shore with our own private view of the water. We set our small yellow tent on the grassy strip before the beach and settled on a simple meal of baked beans with some garlic bread and summer sausage. We poured the beans into the cast-iron pan and heated the bread up with some savory brown sugar sauce. We cut thick slices of summer sausage and put the two together in the best campfire sandwich I’ve ever had. As we ate, we watched the light of the day—and the heat—fade away in brilliant pinks and golds that reflected off the leaves around us. 

Bellies full and bodies aching, we washed the taste of the hike away with the last of the sangria. As we sat looking up at the purple velvet of the night sky, a shooting star blazed by leaving a burning trail long after it passed.  

But with the setting sun, we lost our warmth—the lanterns were poor substitutes for a campfire. The freshmen we passed had a fire burning cheerily that cast drunken shadows into the woods. We joined them but then left soon after a beer can was tossed into the fire and exploded. That’s a different story.  

The hike back to our campsite was treacherous, as roots clawed at our toes and dark trees crowded the trail. Once back, we crawled into the tent shivering beneath the blankets and sleeping bags, praying for sleep. Later, we woke to one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen: the early morning fog settled over the lake like low-hanging clouds, catching rays of sunlight that peaked through gaps in the mountains and shimmered prismatically through the air. Out of all the tips, this is the most important: Do have fun with it. Plan to bring some stupid, unnecessary items, because bonds formed under discomfort are often the strongest. Good company makes the journey bearable, but an even better destination is what makes it worthwhile. Plan accordingly. 

INSETS FOR DESIGNER HERE:  

Tip 1: Every ounce counts when backpacking. Imagine hiking while piggybacking someone the whole time. It’s an exaggeration, but not by much. Pack sleeping bags, not blankets. Be prepared for barebones; backpacking isn’t glamorous. It’s about the views and experience more than the comfort. 

Tip 2: – Don't bring a melon like we did (it was $5.99). It’s just unnecessary weight. Premade camp meals are the best option, especially if you can avoid bringing a cast iron pan. Bread and hard sausage are simple and delicious as well.  

Tip 3: If you can have a campfire, that’s preferred. Propane stoves and tanks take up space and add weight.  

Tip 4: Bring extra clothes, especially socks, because chances are, you’ll be sweaty after the hike.  

Tip 5: Clean up after yourself. Please keep nature pretty.