Sometimes I think about the person who invented the bow and arrow. This person, whoever they were, lived a life obscured by the mists of time, surrounded by social pressures and environmental factors that I can’t possibly begin to fully comprehend.
Despite the huge gap in our shared experiences, I know one thing for certain. Within minutes of our hero inventing and successfully using the bow to kill a giant sloth, some other ancient person wandered by and opined–loudly–that the newfangled bow and arrow system was detracting from the elegance and simplicity of the throwing spear. The bow, the argument almost certainly went, isn’t as ideologically pure as the spear or–even better!–the rock tied to the end of a club. Don’t we go sloth hunting to get away from all the innovations that have been complicating our life for the last few years? Fire? Clothes? Drums, for Gog’s sake? Sure, this new bow thing is more effective and safer–cause you don’t have to get within swiping distance of the sloth–but a real hunter shouldn’t need to rely on such gadgets. And what happens when we become too reliant on the bow, huh? What if we forget how to use spears?
Perhaps you see where I’m going with this. In my capacity as an outdoor journalist, I occasionally write or publish gear reviews about electronics–messaging devices, cameras, rechargeable headlamps, and so on. Inevitably somebody chimes in with some variation of “I go backpacking to get away from technology.” Is this huffy commenter inevitably a middle-aged white guy who clearly hasn’t actually read the article? Look, you said it, not me. I wouldn’t make generalizations like that.
He is though.
And so I’ve written this letter to you, Internet Commenter Guy, in the hopes that you will read it and ponder it in your heart. Hopefully before commenting, but I realize that may be too much to ask.
I Go Backpacking to Get Away from Technology
Let’s start with the use of the word technology here. You keep using that word, and I don’t think it means what you think it means. That 3-layer waterproof breathable rain jacket? Technology. Your titanium cooking pot? Technology. Your freeze-dried meal? Technology (Incan technology!). So unless you like to go backpacking barefoot and naked and freeze your nibbly bits off while fighting pikas barehanded for the last of the season’s huckleberries, I’d cool it on the blanket statements about technology. Oh yeah, and no backpack either because–well, technology.
What do you call backpacking when instead of a backpack you just have to hold all the huckleberries in your hands while shielding your private parts from the prying eyes of judgmental marmots?
This isn’t a joke, I’m honestly asking.
Perhaps what you really mean instead of technology is electronics–and that takes us to my next point.
I Go Backpacking to Get Away from Electronics
Cool story, bro. Do you leave your watch at home? Did you drive your car to the trailhead? Are you bringing a camera? Maybe it’s a film camera. If so, make sure you take out the battery that allows the light meter to work. Also, don’t bring a headlamp.
Maybe you are super-hardcore and you rode your bike to the trailhead and you aren’t bringing a camera and you always know what time it is and how long it is until sunset and you always get your tent set up before dark and when you have to pee in the middle of the night you stumble around blindly and stab yourself on tree branches as God and John Muir clearly intended.
Or maybe what you really mean is you backpack to escape the connectivity that certain electronics allow or foster.
I Go Backpacking To Escape the Connectivity that Certain Electronics Allow or Foster
OK, now we can talk. I do that as well. Like most modern Americans, I use my phone a lot, both for work and recreation. I relish the chance to step away from the overstimulation, media saturation, and blue light blasted into the back of my skull that is my day-to-day life. But I also recognize that my phone is an incredibly powerful backcountry multipurpose tool that provides me with navigation, emergency communication, photography, journaling, and–yes–sometimes even entertainment.
Do I watch movies on my phone in my tent? Do I turn my phone on at every summit to check for service? Do I post to Instagram or Facebook from my campsite? I do not. Some people do. And yes, I find those uses of technology in the backcountry aesthetically distasteful. But I don’t say that to people either online or in real life because aesthetically distasteful isn’t the same thing as dangerous, and by and large, those choices don’t affect me at all. And chances are some people find my uses of electronics aesthetically distasteful as well, and I appreciate it when they don’t say so and just let me live my life.
I’ve found a middle path that works for me. I use certain electronic tools (like satellite messengers) to stay connected to a certain extent in order to ease the anxiety that my family feels when I disappear into the woods for weeks at a time. I use other electronic tools (like my phone) because it’s essentially five tools in one, and I like the ethos of bringing less to do more even if the less that I bring is battery-powered. And I use my Kindle Paperwhite because unlike a paperback it holds thousands of books, is waterproof, and I don’t have to use my headlamp battery to read it. I think that’s astounding. It also weighs less than most books.
Everyone has their own path, and as long as that path doesn’t hurt or inconvenience other human beings, or detract from their enjoyment of the wilderness (i.e., Bluetooth speakers!) it’s all good, baby.
That Isn’t Real Backpacking (i.e., You are Missing the Point)
Look, this could be an entirely separate essay (and in fact, it is). All I’ll say is this: Who made you the arbiter of the hallowed Point? How about less gatekeeping and more being excited that our fellow humans are exploring the outdoors with us in a lot of different and cool ways? We could apply this to all kinds of concepts–crowds in national parks, E-bikes, mountain bikers vs. hikers, FKT attempts, on and on and on.
We don’t own our playgrounds–as much as we like to think we do. How other people use them is utterly beyond our scope–aside from obvious stuff like Leave No Trace ethics, fire safety, and noise. If it’s causing trash, making a lot of noise, or is unsafe to the point that it’s endangering others, you are allowed to be grumpy about it. (But first, try doing some friendly outdoor ethics education!)
If it’s not doing any of those things, I’m sorry to say you really have no trekking pole to lean on. So maybe cool it in the comments section and just, I dunno, take a hike or something. No, I really mean it. Get outside and go for a walk in the woods. And if you want to listen to an audiobook while you do it, I won’t judge you.
As long as you are using earbuds.
