Backpacker's Paradise

Around the middle of last week, my husband and I saw the weather forecast for the coming week, and Friday through Tuesday looked like some very peachy days indeed. So I scheduled Friday, Monday, and Tuesday as vacation days so we could get away for a late-October leaf-peeping extravaganza. We didn't really have a plan at the outset, but one emerged over the days as they arrived.

On Friday, we visited Shawnee State Park. On Saturday and Sunday, we car-camped in the Quehanna Wild Area. And on Monday and Tuesday, our plans were to backpack in Sproul State Forest, not far from the Chuck Keiper Trail.

I would have to say, quite honestly, that when we got home on Sunday evening, after running around for what felt like days on end, I wasn't really looking forward to leaving the house again. After all, houses are comfortable, and full of amenities (not to mention a nice, soft bed). And my favorite Tabbycat, he of the stunningly white paws and charming disposition, lives there.

But the weather forecast was calling for our possible first snow to arrive on the first weekend in November, and we were starting to get that "go now or forever hold your peace" kind of feeling. We just hate to miss any part of what October has to offer. So even though we'd been gone for days, we headed out again. And so it was that Monday around noon, we found ourselves heading to the Sproul State Forest.

The foliage colors are variable right now. In some places, they have already peaked and passed. In Sproul, some golden colors still linger, but quite a few of the leaves have already come down; many of them brought down, no doubt, by the swirling winds that arrived over the weekend (and convinced me to sleep in the back seat of my car in Quehanna on Saturday night, rather than setting up my tent).

And so we packed our gear and backpacks in the back seat of my car and a cooler in the trunk, and headed into the woods. We parked the car and strapped our packs on, and in less than an hour's hike, we arrived at a new camp site that my husband found a month or so ago without me. When we got there, we set up our chairs and relaxed a while. By mid-afternoon, I set up my camp site, and my husband set his tent up near mine.

What you see in this photo is my section of our camp site. On the left is my blue Kelty women's pack, the first and only backpack I've owned since the mid-1980s. I think its boxy style might be considered "retro" now, in these days of slim lines and smooth, modern designs. To the right is my home away from home, an ALPS Mountaineering Zenith three-person tent, which I consider "new"; I've owned it now for a few years, but have only used it a handful of times.

Technically, it's a three-person tent, but my experience with the ratings the companies provide regarding tent sizes is that to fit three in this tent, those three people would have to be awfully tiny, friendly, scent-free, stackable individuals. The tent fits one woman and all of her gear (and in a pinch, the backpack too) comfortably. The tent has stargazer panels all the way around. The weather was to be good overnight, no precip, so I didn't bother putting the fly on.

Under the tent is a ground sheet. Before setting up the tent, I crawl around on the ground sheet on my hands and knees, checking it for any rough spots and removing any sticks, rocks, and acorns. Inside the tent, the floor is lined with two thin blankets. I use three sleeping pads, and on top of those is my sleeping bag. There is even a make-shift pillow - clothing I wasn't currently wearing, tucked into a blue stuff sack.

The miscellaneous stuff in the front center of the photo is my own tiny mess: a small ground sheet, a green foldable chair, my camera bag, a frisbee to put stuff on, a drink, a hat, the latest Vogue, and part of the Sunday newspaper. These are a few of the vestiges of civilization I carried with me.

At this particular point in the day, we had everything set up for the night and my husband had just hung the LED lantern near his tent, ready to turn it on once true darkness fell. My one complaint about camping out this time of year is that it gets dark early now - it is too dark to set up a tent by 7 pm - and when we change the clocks soon, it'll be even worse.

In the early years - and even occasionally now if we camp out in actual winter time - we occasionally built a fire. But as the years have passed, we've pretty much given up on bonfires. Once you build one, your whole existence goes toward maintaining it. And one wayward ember landing on a piece of good camping gear can ruin it. So these days, we stick with LED-type lights, not actual flame.

So this is a view of my tiny slice of the Pennsylvania wilderness, at least for this night. It is complete with some of the most important amenities of home. I admit that going backpacking is usually my husband's idea, not my own. But once I get there, I am always glad to be in the woods. And especially glad to wake up there in the morning.

Welcome to my own little backpacker's paradise.

The soundtrack: Eddie Money, Two Tickets to Paradise.