Truth is, I think some of us view your upcoming backpacking experience with an odd mix of nostalgia, envy, and remembered fear.
We (or should I just speak for myself — I) remember my first night out alone with my future wife so many years ago. I was carrying 65 pounds (including a one-burner Coleman stove — what was I thinking?).
Bone tired along the AT in Pennsylvania, we set up our huge, heavy canvas tent and lay awake most of the night listening to those weird sounds. It's different than car camping. You are alone. The nearest help if Bigfoot attacks is many miles away. The deer snorting is certainly a bear ravenously hunting human flesh because of a "bad berry season."
Okay, I exaggerate, but only slightly. The experience can be a joyful one, but nobody gets it the first or second time. You are dependent solely on what you have on your back. It can be daunting at first, but if you stick with it, it can become revelatory.
So if some of us seem, well, a bit paternal about the whole thing, it's because we want you to have the best experience possible so that you will realize that this is it: the best thing you can do, a truly mind-expanding, revelatory epiphany. We (I) don't want you huddling together in the dark or feeling the agony of that 40-pound pack.
It took me years (and a lot of $$$$) to discard one after another piece of car-camping gear and reduce my base weight from 50 pounds to 5.5. Nobody expects you to do that for the first trip. But the lighter the load and the more prepared you are physically and emotionally, the better your first experience will be.
And as you stare at the winter Milky Way from the darkest of dark skies, and realize that you can sustain yourself with only what you yourself have carried on your back, the experience WILL be overwhelming . . . joy. There's nothing like it. Hang in there. We may sound like fussbudgets, but all that disappears with the first step on the trail.
Stargazer