Adventuring outdoors can have many different looks and feels. Those looks and feels make up a category of activities you usually learn when you’re young, preferably & sentimentally taught to you by your parents, who learned from their parents and so on. That is knowledge, skills, experience, nuance, and exposure -to something like pitching a tent outside in a place you can only reach by foot- passed from one generation to the next. I can imagine it’s easy to take that kind of generational wisdom for granted but for some, like myself, it’s a bit unfathomable. Transcendent generational knowledge can be a beautiful thing and this slightly exclusive category of activity fuels an entire industry.

"Opt outside" - REI

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"Never stop exploring" - The North Face

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"Let's get outside" - Merrell

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"Feed the adventure" - Marmot

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"Built for the wild" - Yeti

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"Opt outside" - REI 〰️ "Never stop exploring" - The North Face 〰️ "Let's get outside" - Merrell 〰️ "Feed the adventure" - Marmot 〰️ "Built for the wild" - Yeti 〰️

Now that marketing has thoroughly hyped you up, what if you don’t know the first thing about pitching a tent outside in a place you can only reach by foot? What if you’re an adult with zero outdoor experience, zero of this generational knowledge thing and the barrier to entry feels intimidating?

Take a breath. You’re not alone. You and I, we’re called adult-onset adventurers. The name is still being workshopped so bear with me. Don’t get me wrong, I had a wonderful childhood and am extremely proud of my parents. However, as the child of immigrants who did not have a particularly favorable childhood themselves, “opting outside” wasn’t in the itinerary. Opting inside with 4 walls, a roof, and warm home cooked meals was more like it. They worked their asses off to provide security and consistency for their children, the rest wasn’t so accessible. As a child, when I was exposed to the world of outdoor enthusiasts, I never saw anyone that looked like me participating so it didn’t feel realistic. I remember being 12 years old and hearing about a friends camping trip and thinking, “must be a white people thing.”

This month marks the 10th anniversary of my 1st backpacking trip. I was a third year in college, I discovered you could rent camping gear from the recreation center and I had a few friends without any spring break plans. In honor of that trip, here is a curated list for my fellow late-blooming adventurers (still workshopping), the top 3 things you don’t need, to go backpacking.

Again bear with me here, this list is based on my own experience which fulfills my definition of success.

The belated-journeyer’s definition of success:

Did you survive?
Was anyone badly injured?
Do you want to do it again?

If no, no, yes are the answers, the trip was successful.

Number 1: A tent

I felt the need to duck while writing this. You don’t need a tent to go backpacking. It’s true, on our 3 nights in the backcountry of Big Bend National park, we did not have a tent. I didn’t have the money nor the realization of how important a tent could be. Almost in unison, on the first night of the trip while we were setting up camp eager to make dinner, my group of post-poned trailblazers asked “who brought the tent?” Turns out where wasn’t much of a camp to set. Someone did bring a large green tarp (for some reason). Amidst the quiet Texas desert we laid the green tarp on the ground, draped every layer of clothing we brought over our arms and legs, and slept under the stars. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Number 2: A sleeping pad

You don’t need a sleeping pad to go backpacking. Ignorance is bliss on this one. When I heard the recreation center cashier ask me if I wanted a sleeping pad I sincerely thought, “a pad to sleep on? Sounds luxurious.” Everyone says camping is sleeping on the ground, right? So, I did just that and didn’t think twice.

Number 3: Your ego

You don’t need your ego to go backpacking. As cliche as this sounds, leave it at home. We do this thing as we age, where the older we get the more we’re expected to know what we’re doing. As an adult-onset adventurer, the following will always be true:

You will be a beginner.

You will always know the least.

You will have the least amount of stories, and the ones you do have will never start with “when I was a kid…”

It will be uncomfortable, but that is okay, because eventually you will learn what the heck a sleeping pad is. Relish in being a beginner at something, it’s braver than you think, even if you’re riding the coattails of ignorance. What matters is that you’re here. You’re paving the way in every sense of the phrase. You will be the starting point for generational knowledge, and that my friend is beautiful thing.