Is Going Ultralight Making Your Hikes Boring?

As an avid hiker, Reece’s must-have items aren’t a titanium spork, freeze-dried spag bol, or a bivy bag. Quite the contrary – a beer, book, and hacky sack. A keen advocate for maximising fun and indulging in trail comfort, Reece explains how to get the most enjoyment out of your hike, whether it’s a few hours or a week long.

My first hike more than a few hours long was a two-day jaunt in the Snowy Mountains in early 2021 with my best mate. From the base of Thredbo, we walked up and around the Main Range loop before heading back down the ski hill.

We’d planned the trek the day before and had spent an hour in Woolies working out the cheapest and most efficient hiking meals we could muster. We landed on what ultralight enthusiasts would consider sacrilege – a loaf of bread, fresh ravioli, and two cans of Coopers XPA.

We climbed slowly, unaccustomed to long-distance hiking but managed to reach the halfway point of our 38km walk an hour or so before dark.

However, we struggled to find an appropriate campsite due to rain that hit the area earlier in the week and had to walk another hour to secure a flat and dry (enough) site, meaning we set up camp in the half-light of sunset.

We were knackered – our bodies weren’t used to the load. However, one of the few things that got us through the afternoon’s frustration was that we each had a beer to cheers on arrival.

Not that we were dying to drink but after a day full of new discomforts, we had a small luxury to celebrate what we’d achieved together. A single beer has never tasted so good and to this day, it remains one of the most memorable I’ve ever had.

Good view for a brew!

The Allure of Going Ultralight

A pioneer of the ultralight movement, Mark Jenkins, published an article in a 1994 edition of Backpacker, claiming, ‘With a light pack, you reduce life to its most indivisible, to its most potent and intoxicating’.

A big fan of Matthiesen’s The Snow Leopard, I’m no stranger to Jenkins’ philosophical prose – I pride myself on the deep internal discussions and revelations I have whilst on trail.

However, I, the layman hiker, hardly have the drive to backpack with nothing but a down jacket, subsisting off cold food, and reducing my water consumption to whenever I pass a stream, as Jenkins did.

I’m not saying to stuff your bag with loaves of bread and ravioli – I learnt the hard way that just because you can fit it, doesn’t mean you should – but don’t limit yourself to a bare-bones kit just to hit an imaginary weight goal.

You’re sacrificing comfort and enjoyment for moot savings on your back.

You need a good snack to properly enjoy a view like this

Slowing Down to Soak It In

On many a trek, I’ve walked hours to arrive at the highlight view of the day, tired and craving a rest. This is normally when I pull out my percolator and abundance of snacks I’ve been looking forward to all morning, allowing myself to soak up the environment and enjoy the slow process of making a warm espresso. Often I’ll stay a hour or so and watch a school bus-worth of people arrive, take a photo, and linger a few minutes before moving on.

The way I see it, the 400 extra grams I now carry on most treks, in the form of this coffee kit, is unnecessary comfort for ultralight-ers but a worthy one for me.

Parque Nacional Patagonia, Chile

I’ve never really hiked for the Strava statistics or Instagram photos. My aim is never to move quickly and arrive at camp as early as possible (that is, unless the weather requires it) but to spend extended and intentional time moving through a landscape, appreciating the experience as fully as possible.

By rejecting the need to move quickly, I allow myself to carry some luxuries at minimal expense to my hiking capabilities, providing the splendour of a home comfort, with a view that trumps any inner-city espresso bar.

Now an espresso is hardly everyone’s choice of comfort but whatever it is – a hot chocolate, sketchbook, or your crochet needles – bring it, provided it doesn’t mean going overboard. An extra few grams won’t weigh you down extensively and may significantly improve your on-trail enjoyment.

As I see it, hiking was never meant to be a test of how much discomfort you can handle, so don’t reduce yourself to the bare necessities.

Hunger Isn’t a Weight-Saving Strategy but a Serious Risk

I’ve met many seasoned hikers who have gawked at the three hard-boiled egg and mayo wraps and entire packet of biscuits I tend to eat on a standard day on trail, while boasting that they subsist on a singular protein bar between breakfast and dinner.

When I hike, I get really hungry. Previously, on day hikes or overnight missions, I’d subsist on the typical beginner’s hiking meals of instant oats and packets of ramen – and I’d count on myself to walk out of the bush in time for a big pub dinner to make up for two days of malnutrition.

However, as I’ve put more kilometres in, I’ve come to realise that my discomfort often came from a lack of adequate fuel, rather than hills, blisters, or an overly chatty hiking partner. Half of my day’s walking would be spent ravenous, with the thought of food often occupying my brain so much that I couldn’t enjoy my surroundings – the entire reason I’d gone in the first place.

Read more: My Formula for Creating Nutritious Meals on the Trail

It’s not just a comfort meal – not bringing enough food on a walk is a serious safety concern. Without proper fuel, fatigue can occur significantly quicker, meaning you risk serious injury should you fail to supply your body according to its needs.

An age-old rule of thumb for multi-day hikes is to always pack an entire day’s worth of extra food, for the chance of getting stuck or having to retrace your steps is higher than you may think and a lack of fuel could subject you to a life-or-death situation.

Even a day hike can take twice as long as expected due to unforeseen circumstances. Even if you only expect to be out for three hours, an extra packet of biscuits could sustain you for nine if necessary.

Crushed but adequate fuel for the rest of the day’s walking. Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, Argentina

Don’t Tempt Fate

In his article, Jenkins provides a sample ultralight gear list, stating he opted against bringing any ‘emergency and survival items’, for he claims his ‘experience and physical capabilities would carry [him] through any tough situations’, given he was hiking through familiar terrain. Whilst written before the introduction of smartphones, compact beacons, and personal first-aid kits, his statement would still sound appealing to the budding ultralight enthusiast attempting to scrounge every gram out of their pack.

I’ve heard many hiking incident stories and unfortunately, have a few of my own. Subsequently, I always carry a first aid kit, a PLB, an extra layer, and extra food on any trek, be it a single day or two weeks.

Contrary to Jenkins’ recount, I do this on treks I know well, in terrain I grew up in. Self-perceived knowledge and capabilities can quickly become defunct in the face of environmental changes, unexpected injuries, or simple mistakes and those emergency supplies could quickly become life-saving for yourself, your partners, or other hikers.

Never is it worth saving a few hundred grams of pack weight and subjecting yourself or others to the risk of turning a minor accident into a life-threatening one.

Read more: How to Stay Safe in the Bush: The Ultimate Hiking Safety Guide

Have Fun – But Know Your Limits

I’m not saying your backpack should be full of fresh fruit and board games. But hiking doesn’t have to be a test of how close you can teeter the borders of discomfort, subjecting yourself to boredom, malnutrition, and ill-preparedness in the name of fitting yourself into the ‘ultralight hiker’ category. That extra half a kilo or so won’t break your back but it may just make your experience that little bit better.

So next time you get out there, bring all your ultralight gear but chuck in a treat – you deserve it.