Depending on where you live in the world, the term backpack has a variety of definitions. Although commonly used as a noun (at least in North America), backpack can also be a verb meaning “to travel or hike carrying one’s belongings in a backpack.” In other words, backpacking involves multi-day trips with all the necessary supplies stuffed into a bag you put on your back. This past summer, my interest in backpacking grew as I came to understand the beautiful simplicity of being self-sufficient in the wilderness. There’s something so appealing about spending the days and nights in a natural space devoid of nearby cars, buildings, or tech connectivity.

I was especially excited for my trip into the Ansel Adams Wilderness on the eastern side of the Sierra mountains. I would be going a total of eleven miles, but it would be a hefty 2,400 foot uphill climb along a crest. My target destination was Deer Lakes, a collection of small lakes that reside at close to 11,000 feet in elevation. This would be my first backpacking trip at such a high altitude. I had spent the past week acclimating to the decrease in oxygen levels, so I was confident that I could handle such a strenuous hike.

If you’re interested in watching a video of what I packed in my bag, click here!

From the get-go, I could tell that this hike would be difficult but extremely rewarding. Immediately after setting out from the parking lot, the trail went up at a steep grade. It always takes me a mile or two to adjust to the weight on my back (around 30 lbs) especially when compared to my typical day-hike bag. I took deep breaths, grateful for the early morning shade and cool breeze. Onward I walked, trekking poles in hand to help balance me as well as propel me forward.

Within half a mile, the vistas became incredible. I could spot the town of Mammoth Lakes in the distance, and a mélange of trees-water-mountains all around me. (I took many pictures, but due to a technical difficulty after the fact, I lost many of them).

By the third mile, the other hikers that I had thinned out, and it was just me and the open sky. I had underestimated the power of the sun at such heights, so I shamelessly took regular water breaks to rest near shrubs and reapply sunscreen. There was something dizzying about being so alone in the outdoors. Because of covid, many of my outdoor adventures had been in places that weren’t at all crowed, but now I was 100% by myself. No one else for miles. For a split second it was daunting, and then I leaned into the solitude and relished every moment of it.

When I crested the high point of a ridge, I glanced down onto Deer Lakes and smiled. It was spectacular – better than I had imagined. I made the short descent into a bowl-like topography that housed these handful of lakes. I enjoyed exploring the area casually, finding the best place to set up camp that minimized sun exposure as well as mosquitoes.

Then I rested, dipping my feet into the lake, snacking on peanut M&Ms, and reading a book I had brought. I walked around the lake in my camp sandals and looked at interesting rocks. And then I just watched a storm pass next to me while sitting on a rock watching the sky. An hour passed without much activity on my part (the clouds were crazy!). My growling stomach reminded me it was time for a dehydrated meal and an electrolyte drink.

The solitude was phenomenal and made up for the pain that would rear up in my knees on the way back down. Tomorrow during the descent to the car, I would feel every downhill step. But for now, I was content and comfortable. For now, I was leaning into solitude and all of those happy feels.