Home is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there
I come home, she lifted up her wings
I guess that this must be the place
-Talking Heads
There’s a moment every year when backpacking season stops being an idea and becomes real again. It usually starts quietly. After 33 years of backpacking, you would think that feeling might fade. It doesn’t. If anything, it gets stronger. Summer 2026 is shaping up to be one of my most fun filled seasons of adventure sharing my love of the sierra’s and exploring new terrain.
This year’s theme for me is simple: No Easy Miles.
Not because suffering is the goal. Not because every trip has to become some dramatic test of endurance. But because the best places rarely come easy. The good campsites are always one more climb away. The unforgettable views usually show up after the point where most people turn around.
I’ve spent the offseason dialing in gear and refining what comes with me into the mountains. A few things changed this year. Some old favorites stayed. A few luxury items disappeared after hard debates with myself. Others survived because, after enough years outside, you learn that comfort matters too. I’ve got a new tent, new shoes, some new recipes, and will be reviewing some gear that was sent to me by companies in the off-season.
The pack is lighter. The legs feel stronger. The excitement feels exactly the same as it did decades ago.
There’s also something different about this season though. Not because I love backpacking any less. That part of me will probably always exist. The mountains have shaped too much of my life for that to change now. They’ve been my reset button, my therapy, my church, and sometimes the only place where the world made complete sense.
But there is a strange tension in loving two things deeply at the same time — the pull of wilderness and the pull of home. One teaches solitude. The other teaches connection. Somehow both matter. And maybe that’s part of growing older too. The younger version of me chased miles without looking back. Now I still chase the miles… but I also look forward to the drive home.
Still, the mountains are waiting. I’ve missed all of it. So here’s to another season, to dusty trails and alpine lakes. To hard climbs and tired legs. To being above tree line. To granite. To stories that only happen when you’re willing to leave comfort behind for a while. Summer 2026 starts now.
