My AT resolution: No gear shaming

I currently live in Denver, Colorado which I would self-declare as the “gorpcore” of the world. What this means to me is that people are rich not in a Balenciaga, Mercedes G Wagon type of way but an Arcteryx, suped-up 2024 Forerunner type of way. Conversations with people who live here are dominated by what your sports are, how often you do them, how good are you at them, and maybe most annoyingly, how nice the gear is that you do them with. 

People here talk in a language I am finally starting to understand in my 6th year of residency, a language full of gear specs, brand names, product names, etc. Back on the East Coast, where I grew up, people never asked any questions about how many pairs of skis and bikes you have, how many 14er summits has your Melly been on, or how far you live from the REI. (All questions I’ve been asked more than once.) I had friends who hiked in Nike air forces with a plastic Poland Spring water bottle. (And they got to the top and bottom just the same.)

I love hiking for the accessibility and simplicity of it. It’s something we are programmed to do.  

When I hiked the Colorado trail, I packed my bag two nights before I left. Checking off the things I needed as if going on my typical two-night backpacking trip. I had no idea what “base weight” was and most of my gear was thrifted second-hand to serve the purpose it was made for. I took a photo of my gear (see below) cause I had seen it once on Pinterest. Weight was not important to me until I met some ultralight thru-hiking pals who shed some knowledge on me by helping me do a proper shakedown and eliminate pounds off my back. I remember a girl at our hostel actually laughing at my years old Osprey bag (it fit me perfectly and I love that bag) and for having a sunglasses case. “Awwww, sweetheart! That is so cute!” She said in between laughs as if to mock my stupidity. 

Posing with my CT gear

Now, as I prepare for the AT, I find myself absolutely obsessed with weight. The best cost/weight upgrades is almost all of my Google searches. So, let me be clear, I am not trying to shame the culture as a whole, I do enjoy talking about gear hacks and understand that the weight on your back is one of the only things you can control on a thru-hike. But I have noticed myself being so entranced with people’s kits and upgrades that I am scared I am starting to lose the point of why we go outside to start with. To be outside! 

My dog, Charlie, is soooo happy I upgraded my pack to a ULA circuit

My AT gear picture! Notice so many upgrades from the CT, dog included

It’s a contagious phenomenon. Once you start researching lighter options, frameless packs, Tyvek, breathable jackets, waterproof, water resistant, 650 fill, 900 fill…10 oz!? It’s addictive and the people I meet every day love their hobbies so much that I understand why it can be all-encompassing. But I think this “consumerism” way of hiking and being outside makes it intimidating for the average person to start going outside at all. “I don’t even have hiking boots” I’ve had friends tell me when I suggest we go for a walk in the Flatirons when they are visiting. Curse you TikTok Instagram Facebook, curse whatever made people believe you NEED hiking boots just to walk! Wouldn’t the world would be a much better place if everyone we met went outside for a little bit? Soaked up the sun, showered in a waterfall, and smelt the dirt like the creatures we are at our core? 

Biggest smile ever after showering a waterfall

Since that moment in the hostel, I have pledged to never make someone feel as small as I did just about the gear they are so brave to carry. So with that being said, I am hiking the AT this year with a conscious goal of not “gear shaming”. Dear Trek reader, I publicly pledge that I will not judge anyone by the gear they are carrying or even mention it unless they bring it up to me first. No one is more or less qualified to be thru-hiking based on gear alone. And I’m starting to believe that stories about adventures are so much more enthralling when based on silly circumstances and not riddled with stats that outdoor companies have accidentally forced their way into our everyday vocabulary. 

I hiked most of the CT with a broken trekking pole, it worked!

Trail runners, hiking boots, osprey packs, Hyperlite packs, cnoc, plastic water bottle, blow-up pad, foam pad. Everyone deserves to be outside! It’s where we belong! And if you made it this far, I challenge you to do the same. Who cares if someone is carrying a sunglasses case or a bag twice the weight of yours!? Gear is meant to keep us alive, comfortable, and happy. I’m sure there will be some jealousy when I notice someone having something I don’t have, that’s natural. Something I love about the thru-hiking community as a whole is that most people want to teach each other, not be better than each other. Together, perhaps, we can slowly end the gatekeeping of the expensive “facade” of roaming around in nature. As someone very wise once said to me, “hike your own hike!”

Aren’t we all just trying to have a great adventure?!

My CDT section hike this summer – see you out there!