People keep asking us “Do you have all your gear?” The short answer is no, we don’t. Actually the long answer is also no, we don’t. Turns out, it's actually a pretty simple question to answer.
It is both extremely exciting and also extremely horrible to buy gear for a long distance hike like this. Exciting because every purchase feels like it moves us closer to our adventure. Horrible because there are so many choices. Too many choices.
Take trekking poles, for example. Used to relieve pressures on your lower half and for stability when crossing rivers and such. Pretty simple, right?
Nope.
Do I want aluminum or carbon fiber shafts? Carbon fiber is lighter, but more expensive. Should the grips be cork, rubber, foam, or a combination of those? Should they have a lever locking or a twist locking mechanism? Desert sand and grime could get in the twist locks, but the lever locks include a screw that often needs hand tightening. Should the trekking pole segments telescope into one another or fold up? If they have a hand strap, should it be set at a 15° corrective angle to help keep my elbows square?
That is too many things!
So I turned to the experts: those who review gear and communities of other hikers.
Gear reviews don’t help that much. Lately it seems like most gear reviews are written by someone who was provided an item for free just to write the review. Why do I want to read a review of something the reviewer didn’t even buy? I don’t care what they think of trekking poles they got for free. I want to know what they think of trekking poles after spending $200 of their own money and deliberated over all the choices like everybody else. Anyone can like a thing they got for free.
Forums of hikers are also unhelpful. These kinds of gear questions are posed often. There is usually a lively debate; it begins with everyone listing their own personal preferences and ends with some crusty old hiker proclaiming that they never needed any kind of fancy poles, there are sticks in the forest so just pick one up and walk with that for a while like a real man.
So, after weeks of occasionally checking in on the all the trekking poles offered on Amazon and REI, and after hours of thoughtfully weighing all my options, I did what I should have done weeks ago: got tipsy on half a bottle of wine and impulse-bought a bunch of stuff online before I could talk myself out of it.
But what if the aluminum shafts are too heavy? What if the rubber grips give me little palm blisters? What if I really did need a 15° corrective strap angle? What if the trekking poles aren’t strong enough and bend again like my last pair?
What if I made the wrong choice?
The fact is, I can drive myself crazy deliberating on the best choice for everything I carry onto the trail. But if something breaks, or gives me blisters, or doesn’t work the way I wanted it to, I still have to carry it and use it. At least until I reach civilization. Once you are hiking, that is the only choice.
Maybe if I really hate something I can try to find a store in town that sells a replacement, or I can order something else online and have it sent to me care of the post office in the next stop up the trail. But I probably won’t. It sounds like a hassle. A thru-hike has a way of teaching you to just deal.