Tales from Gregory the Backpack
Where are you from?
I come from a long line of outdoor packs. My parents are known for their suitability on multi-day backpacking trips. They’re bigger than I am, but I will never grow to be their size. I was the runt of the family at 16 liters, but I’m okay with that. I can hold my own, let alone anything you’d need for a day outdoors. Plus, have you seen my expandable front pouch? (*demonstrates*) I’m full of surprises.
When did your adventures begin?
I was picked off the hook in REI in Spring 2017. After a long bout of indecision, Emily decided I was the one and took me home. She had no idea the number of adventures she’d have with me, but I knew. At first, I was more of a “weekend warrior” kind of backpack. Our adventures were usually casual solo hikes—nothing crazy—but I would hold her things with pride. I got to make friends with many CLIF bars—Sierra Trail Mix was my favorite. He’s a chunky fellow and he’d tell great stories about the Sierras.
I could tell Emily found me incredibly useful from the get-go. Over the past three years, we’ve been so many places together, and I feel I’ve served my duty well—from commute runs; to the Sierras, Enchantments, and Alps; to climbing gyms; to rock faces. Emily’s blood, sweat, and tears live in me, literally—they’re woven into my fabric. She’s given me character as I’ve ridden piggy-back on all these adventures, big and small. She’s shown me so much of the world, and I like to think I’ve been the wind at her back while doing so.
Can you describe one highlight moment? It sounds like there’s been a lot, but if you could choose one?
Ah, the first thing that comes to mind is glissading down Mount St. Helens in June 2019. I was strapped to Emily as she slid down the mountain (literally on her butt), ice axe in hand. I could hear how much fun she was having from her laughs, and though I was facing the other way, I could feel her huge smile. As she slid down this snowy slide, I got to enjoy the view, too. I’ll bet you’re wondering where my eyes are, huh? They’re the side mesh pockets, which means I get a pretty good panoramic view! This glissading experience is all on video, by the way. I feel a little famous.
What about one of the scariest moments?
Hmm probably climbing Fly Boys in Mazama, WA. It’s an 1800-foot, 18-pitch climb. We only did half of that, but boy was I nervous. Emily hadn’t been climbing for very long at that point, let alone outdoor climbing, but she was a champ. She carried me on the entire climb. I was holding her extra jackets and snacks—the peanut butter-filled pretzels and I were debating the whole way up about creamy versus crunchy. It was a nice distraction for me because I was constantly faced with the view below. Talk about feeling exposed! I wrapped myself a little tighter around Emily as we got higher. Climbing cuddles! These moments bond us the most.
What’s your favorite thing to carry?
Snacks, duh. I take a lot of pride in making sure Emily always has something to eat. She can get a little hangry.
What’s it like always facing backwards?
That’s a great question. Humans are generally always looking ahead, figuratively and physically. I, on the other hand, am always looking behind them. It sounds disorienting, but you get used to it. Occasionally I get to look ahead when I’m put down. Emily usually faces me out toward the view—I think she knows I can see. But I really enjoy always looking backwards. Humans hear all the time to not look back. But looking back has its purpose, especially to see how far you’ve come. For me, I love to see all that gets left behind as I’m moved through space. I watch all the animals poke their heads out to see what just passed through their neighborhood. I’ve exchanged many glances with trees—they’re so stoic, you know. They just stand there, but they demand so much respect as they do so.
Next time you’re on an outdoorsy adventure, I encourage you to think from your pack’s perspective. It’ll make you think about the progress you’ve made and appreciate all that you just passed through. It’s important to look behind you every once in a while—it’s not always about forward progress. But do be careful to stay focused when the trail is a bit bumpy. Emily is super clumsy, and I’ve taken many tumbles with her as she slips and trips. Thank god for microspikes, which, by the way, fit perfectly into my side mesh pocket. And no, they don’t poke my eyes out.
Do you have a secret pocket? What’s in there?
Wouldn’t you like to know! That’s between me and Emily. My lips are zipped on that.
This may be a little personal, but have you ever been cleaned out?
Nah. You see, my dirtiness tells a story. The white dust is from chalk bags. The spec of blood is from destroyed fingers after a hard climb. The sand is from being beachside at Lake Tahoe. I wear dirt like a cloak. A dirty old day-use permit is a badge of honor. I think I even have a random green ribbon at my bottom. I really don’t know where that came from, but who knows when you might need a silky ribbon, right? Maybe one day I’ll be invited to a black-tie kind of event. I’d clean up for that…maybe. (*winks*)
