How much did childhood experiences influence your interest in backpacking.

We grew up in the city in southern California. When I was a little guy, I tried scouting, but it wasn't for me. Our local scout troop never seemed to do anything even remotely interesting- no camping, hikes, climbing, etc. Fortunately, my parents liked camping so we spent many weekends throughout the year and extended summer trips car camping in various state and national parks around the American West or camped out on a beach. I always enjoyed these trips and looked forward to our big trips each summer.

While my folks loved to be outdoors and away from the city, they weren't able/willing to do any backpacking trips. We often dayhiked though and I can remember always wondering what's just up ahead around the next turn; trying to cajole my folks to continue on a little bit farther. I also remember always being intrigued, perhaps even envious, of backpackers we'd see heading off on their own adventures.

I recall my first overnight hiking trip occurring while I was in high school when some friends and I simply stuffed some basics in our rucksacks and took off for the night. The ability to access more remote places (as opposed to car camps) and stay the night was instantly contagious. It's what I had been wanting to do for years…

Been doing it ever since.

"How much or how little did your childhood experiences affect your interest in backpacking?"
I don't know that it affected my interest, but think it established a comfort level.
My grandfather had me fishing and shooting before I could hold either a fishing rod or firearm by myself, hunting, building shelters and turkey blinds, things of that sort. Cub Scouts, Webelos, Boy Scouts, Airborne Infantry-while I wasn't raised in the country, and it was not a way of life, spending time outdoors was normal throughout youth and early adulthood.
My interest in(or at least regular practice of) backpacking was fairly minimal until the past 5 years, but I'm as comfortable in the woods as in my own home. A couple decades of working in dangerous conditions, much worse than natural ones, plus out in the elements, means bad weather doesn't really faze me, either.
I think those aspects of my "real life" experiences have had a very positive effect on my backpacking ones, because it's hard to get me out of my comfort zone, and I'm able to have fun where most people would be miserable or staying home.

No family camping or backpacking, but I wandered on foot and bicycle alone from breakfast to sundown or dinner time, whichever came first. We moved a lot – 25 times in ten years, and some of those locations were way back in the hills or in the middle of the desert or other relatively wild locations. I really enjoyed being outdoors almost in spite of my family.

Six months in the Boy Scouts introduced me to suffering in the wilderness with crappy gear which almost ended my outdoor pursuits.

But a high school teacher/coach introduced me to backpacking with "modern" gear like an Army surplus feather-filled sleeping bag, a tube tent, and a backpack with padded shoulder straps and an unpadded hip belt. I was hooked, and in college took every opportunity to go backpacking.

— Rex

This goes way back. (I'll be 58 in the Fall) I have vague memories of vacations in the Irish Hills in Michigan before I even turned three. Parents bought an Avion trailer the next spring. Camping in Michigan 61, trip around Lake Huron. Out east in 62, Gettysburg, DC, Shenandoah. Wisconsin and UP in 63. RMNP and Yellowstone, Black Hills in 64, first real day hikes. Catskills in 65. 66-Canadian Rockies, Glacier NP, long day hikes where mom and siblings bailed, dad and I did them. 67- Trip to great aunt and uncles off the grid cabin on an island in Northern Ontario, GU was the ultimate outdoorsman, Gaspe, Maine, White Mountains. 68- Bruce Peninsula Ontario. 69-Great Smokys NP, 70-71-72 many trips to Michigan, overnight canoe trips, first backpack trips, overnight bike packing. 73 -Around Lakes Superior and Huron, backpacking in the Porcupine Mts, Killarney ON. 74-built trails with the YCC, BPing in Colorado. 75-BP in PA and AT in Georgia. All before I turned 18.

Not as a kid: I biked as a kid in the 70's constantly (wasn't let inside the house while it was being cleaned every day until dinner). Did great on the few hikes I went on but wasn't really exciting. The military really wasn't backpacking after 2 nights in Basic or any assigment after that. I'd say the 90's after driving a packed 4WD for a ski trip with my then wife, … I looked at some winter backpackers outside our condo and said that looks a lot more relaxing. So a balance of off time than life itself.

When I was pre teen , my family took car camping vacations in state and national parks. As us kids got older, my parents worked extra jobs. However, on holidays and summer we would go to my grandmother's house. She had 15 acres about 20 miles outside of a smal town in West texas. About 10 of them, were 1/2 of a densely treed and rocky mountain. We were often kicked out of the house and told to go play….which we did for hours on end. We would hike, climb, and explore all over that place. It was a form of heaven…it felt like we were a million miles away from the city in another world. Being in the wilderness now brings back those feelings and a sense of timelessness that I always have enjoyed about nature. I like backpacking because it allows me to go find those places that are far away from civilization.

I always like the outdoors and enjoyed a little fishing and camping. In my 30's I became a manager in healthcare and found myself working 10-12 hour shifts everyday with oncall responsibilities for a 6 month stretch. A good friend told me he knew what I needed and told me to bring only what was on the list and he would take care of everything else. I found my time in the wilderness to be liberating and therapeutic. It allowed me to slow down and think. Shortly thereafter I quit, made some life changes and now routinely return to the wilderness to heal.

My dad was a workaholic, a city boy who didn't know the first thing about camping/fishing/hiking. We never did anything outdoors.

Then when I was 16 I went on a backpacking trip with friends to Red River Gorge in Eastern Kentucky. That still seems to be the number one hiking destination for people around metro Louisville.

It was the late 70's and no one knew anything about ultralight. I bought an exterior frame Northface pack that weighed about 5 lbs. I carried a 3.5 lb synthetic Coleman sleeping bag and a 4 lb Eureka solo tent. I was young and tough then, the weight didn't matter.

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This was really interesting to reflect on.

My family definitely wasn't into camping or anything like that. And I did spend a good chunk of my childhood in the suburbs. But thinking back on it, my happiest memories were in the outdoors. We lived in the caribbean for a few years when I was young and I was allowed to just roam free there, and I was right at home out there. Another experience sticks out at me- my dad took each of the kids on a one on one trip when we became teenagers. I remember my sister made him take her to L.A., while I chose to go to Baja, mexico and spend two weeks sailing the sea of cortez, kayaking, hiking, etc. It was an experience that changed me, for sure. My heart has always been outside.

<span style=””><span style=”font-size:14px”>I wrote this article  15+ years ago.</span></span>

Hiking, backpacking and camping was not part of my childhood.  With boyscouts, I only went camping a handful of times.  Looking back on it, the camping trips were an excuse for the adults to have some weekend time away from the rest of the family. :)  For a variety of social, economic and cultural reasons, the “outdoors” just was not something that both my immediate and extended families or my  peers took part in.  

But I always remembered that trip I linked above. The stark beauty of the alpine environment was a lot different from the hardwoods and green of the woods of my native Rhode Island.  

I remembered it a decade later when my buddy from Catholic school allowed me to tag along on a backpacking trip one weekend.

That trip, more or less, helped to get me on the path to my current life.

The outdoors is what helped to show a different path in many ways.  If I had not gone on that hiking trip so many years ago, would that spark have been there? Or would I be where I grew up, in the same neighborhood and wondering if there is something else I could have done?

We went car camping as a kid, often to lakes on Grand Mesa in Colorado. Those would be one week of mostly driving per year, and maybe two nights of camping with a station wagon or camp trailer. My Dad being restless, we moved camp often in hopes of getting better fishing at another lake. One time I climbed down a steep hill from the car parked on a forest road, and found a stream with clear pools and big fish in them. It was sublime. I tried to get someone to come down the hill and look, but they were in too big of a hurry to get going again.

I was in Boy Scouts in Kansas, where wilderness is a strip of woods by the river, next to plowed fields. But that was fun, but shortlived.

In high school my brother and I would hike 4 miles across the desert near Quartz Hill CA, into the foothills in the spring, with an army mess kit. The flowers would be out, and we'd cook eggs and bacon on a sage brush fire, and thought it was the coolest thing, close to heaven. By then my Dad was into jeep camping, 4 wheeler excursions where the fun was seeing who in the group would break an axle, and then figuring out how to fix it or get it back to town.

About then (age 17, Lancaster CA (think Mojave desert)) I went on a backpack with a YMCA backpacking club, and that was it. It just clicked with me and I instantly recognized that this was for me. We did an overnight each month, a day hike each month, and a 9 day backpack in the summer, and I ate it up. Shortly I was leading the trips, and climbing peaks with a group mentor. On the 9 day backpacks I just had a feeling that this was "real" life, what happened back in town was not "real." It was fake life. Real life was wind, rain, hiking, river water, streams, meadows, bird sounds, tree smells, campfire conversations. I've been cursed with that misunderstanding since then, and 47 years later (age 64) can't seem to shake it.

The town where i grew up Front Royal VA is at the gateway to SNP. My childhood home was literally right beside an AT trailhead. I remember being very young and going to the post office and seeing all the thru-hikers come in to get their resupplys. I asked my Dad what these people were doing and when he told me i became fascinated with hiking and backpacking. I hiked the length of the AT in SNP by myself when i was 11 years old. Before that i explored the part of the AT close to my house. I've yet to thru hike the AT but it's on my bucket list. I have thru'd the Tuscarora Trail and The Long Trail and have hiked the entire AT in Virginia which is 500 and some odd miles i believe. I just simply love to walk in the woods.

My parents took me and my siblings on camping trips, Yellowstone, caves, lake fishing, ocean. I hiked only occasionally in my teen years, but more day-hiking in my 20's. I'd always admired the freedom that backpacking represented to me, and finally decided to backpack by my late 30's with a new group of friends. Have done a few solos now and love that even more.

My sister, who grew up with the same influences, says "you work so hard for your home, why would you want to spend your free time living like you're homeless??" :)
Kelly

Not one comment about Doug's post. Interesting group.

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"Not one comment about Doug's post. Interesting group."

I imagine because most, if not all, knew I was kidding. Either that or now they're afraid of me….. :-)

Funny stuff Doug!

I haven't been able to sleep, worrying about Doug

At least now I understand…

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In the '50s (hey, I'm a geezer) I was a Boy Scout, complete with:
> frameless, waistbeltless canvas Yucca pack,
>kapok-filled rectangular sleeping bag,
> Scout knife W/ can opener
>and Boy Scout cook kit.

I learned "pioneering", Scout lingo for lashing saplings to make furniture. I learned to sharpen and use a hatchet and axe, (yep!) and I learned how to build a fire in the rain.

But most of all I learned what frikkin'lousy (one word) gear we had and began making my own and buying better gear.

And I learned to appreciate that skills were more important than frikkin'lousy gear.

Then there was my grandfather's farm which had a big woods in which I roamed, camped and hunted when I wasn't busting my butt with chores.

And then there were all those great outdoor books like Sigurd Olsen Northwoods canoeing books and Calvin Rustrum's "Paradise Below Zero".