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Hot-Weather Hiking
Image Credit: https://www.cdc.gov/orr/infographics/ast-heat.htm Most of the camping and hiking blogs I’ve seen assume that readers will have to deal with wet and/or cold climates, but rarely do I see any that take the hot and dry extremes into account as well. I often have to make some substantial adjustments based on the assumptions in these blogs, ideas like “chocolate is a great backpacking food” or “there’s no such thing as the wrong weather for hiking!” Er, well, chocolate is great, as long as you can be sure that it won’t melt and get all sticky and gross. As for “no such thing as bad weather,” those stories assume that you can always put on more or better clothing. They don’t seem aware that there really are times when you have to hide indoors, like summers here in Texas where it can be 108 degrees for weeks or even months on end.
Sorry.
‘Round here, y’all, I don’t pack chocolate unless I can pack an ice chest too (hot cocoa is different: hot cocoa don’t melt). And if we see someone gearing up for a hike out here and we know the weather is about to turn, we darn well chase after them and ask if they’re from out of town.
It’s tragic when carrying too much water can kill you just as fast as not carrying enough, but that’s the reality: it can KILL you, especially if your body is not used to sweating this hard and carrying heavy loads in the heat. You can get mixed signals from your body about the temperature and your fitness to keep hiking right up until the minute you pass out.
Yep, I usually batten down the hatches and try to tough out the summer indoors, even though seeing sunny days outside doesn’t suggest “lie low” to the hindbrain the same way as clouds and chills do. And when I do go camping for longer than one or two overnights, I go far enough out of town that I can find some decent terrain, because that’s where you get water sources. And for this little invalid, water sources are the key to making hiking survivable when I can’t carry more than a day or two worth of water.
That’s right, minimalist backpacking includes knowing my limits, and I’d rather use the amount of weight I’m able to carry by carrying a day or two of water, instead of carrying so much stuff that I pass out before I can get to the next water source. Some ultralight hikers use hydration bladders for carrying water, but me, I can’t live without my Nalgenes. You can’t re-hydrate astronaut food in a water bladder, but you can pour boiling water into a Nalgene all you want – and I do. I wrap my Nalgenes in my sleeping bag and/or extra clothes to keep the water hot while it cooks my ramen or whatever I happen to be eating. I carry two 48 oz HDPE Nalgenes, full to the brim, as well as one or two empty collapsible water bottles if I have space. These extra water vessels help when gathering water and hanging out at a water source to filter or treat your water, hydrate, and cook, which I highly recommend. One of the tricks to surviving the high temperatures is to stay close to the few water sources when you find them. I usually camp out nearby so that I can cook dinner and breakfast, and have plenty of time to drink lots and lots of water. This is also a good time to boil water, sanitize your water bottles and dishes, and do any laundry that you deem necessary. It’s better to hike out from your campsite well-hydrated than to carry lots of unnecessary stuff.
That’s also why I eventually ditched the water pump. It was taking up too much weight and time. Now I focus almost exclusively on boiling my water with my jetboil (or treating it with potable aqua tablets, or lighter yet, aquatabs. But I try to use those resources sparingly – light though they are, I’m always wary about using up something that I can’t refill quickly). If the water is silty, I strain it through a bandana or one of my sweat-absorbing hankies before treating it, but that’s about it. I have seen a lot of ultralight hikers recommend the Sawyer Squeeze, but I haven’t had a chance to try it out yet. I do, however, carry a LifeStraw for emergencies (and for those times when I’m so relieved to see a water source that I can’t wait for reasonable activities like boiling or treating the water before I take a drink). Group camping is different. In addition to being able to share resources so no one has to carry too much, the cost/benefit analysis starts to work in favor of larger gravity-fed water filters and similar. [I will cover group camping in more depth in another post].
As for clothing, Cover. Your. Head. And not just the brim of a hat: cover your whole head, even if the part over your pate is just netting. You can get skin cancer on your noggin, don’t forget, and hair isn’t always enough to protect you (especially if you part your hair or if it parts naturally in hot weather. Or if you’re bald, of course, but I bet if that’s the case then you’re used to the perils of too little sun protection.)
I prefer hats that can fold up, and for best results I love my stylish straw sunhat. These are also great for travel. And yes, when I’m not worried about matching my travel outfits, I get just about everything in blaze orange, preferably with reflective strips. What can I say? I’m from Texas. And I’ve been shot at by hunters off-season while wearing blaze orange, so my sense of what’s safe and what isn’t might be a little skewed.
I don’t worry too much about clothing that is marketed as UPF. Plain old coverage is fine for my purposes, though in this weather I definitely pony up for the nicer lightweight long-sleeve safari shirts with side vents. I layer these with a shelf-bra workout top with reflective strips, because there are times when the idea of even the lightest, driest long-sleeve shirt can make you want to dig a den and hibernate until winter.
Personally, I also prefer to hike in cargo pants regardless of the weather. I also wear ultralight desert combat boots or similar to cover my ankles (mine have vents near the sole to help with the heat). A lot of the damage hikers sustain is on their exposed skin, and I know the shorts-lovers will never convince the trousers-lovers and vice versa. The combat boots are a must, though, especially for solo hikers like me. Not only can they prevent most snake bites and provide much-needed ankle support, but if you do twist your ankle or sustain a similar injury, you’ll be able to hike back out sooner if you can cinch your boots tight around the afflicted area to give it more support.*
Sorry.
‘Round here, y’all, I don’t pack chocolate unless I can pack an ice chest too (hot cocoa is different: hot cocoa don’t melt). And if we see someone gearing up for a hike out here and we know the weather is about to turn, we darn well chase after them and ask if they’re from out of town.
It’s tragic when carrying too much water can kill you just as fast as not carrying enough, but that’s the reality: it can KILL you, especially if your body is not used to sweating this hard and carrying heavy loads in the heat. You can get mixed signals from your body about the temperature and your fitness to keep hiking right up until the minute you pass out.
Yep, I usually batten down the hatches and try to tough out the summer indoors, even though seeing sunny days outside doesn’t suggest “lie low” to the hindbrain the same way as clouds and chills do. And when I do go camping for longer than one or two overnights, I go far enough out of town that I can find some decent terrain, because that’s where you get water sources. And for this little invalid, water sources are the key to making hiking survivable when I can’t carry more than a day or two worth of water.
That’s right, minimalist backpacking includes knowing my limits, and I’d rather use the amount of weight I’m able to carry by carrying a day or two of water, instead of carrying so much stuff that I pass out before I can get to the next water source. Some ultralight hikers use hydration bladders for carrying water, but me, I can’t live without my Nalgenes. You can’t re-hydrate astronaut food in a water bladder, but you can pour boiling water into a Nalgene all you want – and I do. I wrap my Nalgenes in my sleeping bag and/or extra clothes to keep the water hot while it cooks my ramen or whatever I happen to be eating. I carry two 48 oz HDPE Nalgenes, full to the brim, as well as one or two empty collapsible water bottles if I have space. These extra water vessels help when gathering water and hanging out at a water source to filter or treat your water, hydrate, and cook, which I highly recommend. One of the tricks to surviving the high temperatures is to stay close to the few water sources when you find them. I usually camp out nearby so that I can cook dinner and breakfast, and have plenty of time to drink lots and lots of water. This is also a good time to boil water, sanitize your water bottles and dishes, and do any laundry that you deem necessary. It’s better to hike out from your campsite well-hydrated than to carry lots of unnecessary stuff.
That’s also why I eventually ditched the water pump. It was taking up too much weight and time. Now I focus almost exclusively on boiling my water with my jetboil (or treating it with potable aqua tablets, or lighter yet, aquatabs. But I try to use those resources sparingly – light though they are, I’m always wary about using up something that I can’t refill quickly). If the water is silty, I strain it through a bandana or one of my sweat-absorbing hankies before treating it, but that’s about it. I have seen a lot of ultralight hikers recommend the Sawyer Squeeze, but I haven’t had a chance to try it out yet. I do, however, carry a LifeStraw for emergencies (and for those times when I’m so relieved to see a water source that I can’t wait for reasonable activities like boiling or treating the water before I take a drink). Group camping is different. In addition to being able to share resources so no one has to carry too much, the cost/benefit analysis starts to work in favor of larger gravity-fed water filters and similar. [I will cover group camping in more depth in another post].
As for clothing, Cover. Your. Head. And not just the brim of a hat: cover your whole head, even if the part over your pate is just netting. You can get skin cancer on your noggin, don’t forget, and hair isn’t always enough to protect you (especially if you part your hair or if it parts naturally in hot weather. Or if you’re bald, of course, but I bet if that’s the case then you’re used to the perils of too little sun protection.)
I prefer hats that can fold up, and for best results I love my stylish straw sunhat. These are also great for travel. And yes, when I’m not worried about matching my travel outfits, I get just about everything in blaze orange, preferably with reflective strips. What can I say? I’m from Texas. And I’ve been shot at by hunters off-season while wearing blaze orange, so my sense of what’s safe and what isn’t might be a little skewed.
I don’t worry too much about clothing that is marketed as UPF. Plain old coverage is fine for my purposes, though in this weather I definitely pony up for the nicer lightweight long-sleeve safari shirts with side vents. I layer these with a shelf-bra workout top with reflective strips, because there are times when the idea of even the lightest, driest long-sleeve shirt can make you want to dig a den and hibernate until winter.
Personally, I also prefer to hike in cargo pants regardless of the weather. I also wear ultralight desert combat boots or similar to cover my ankles (mine have vents near the sole to help with the heat). A lot of the damage hikers sustain is on their exposed skin, and I know the shorts-lovers will never convince the trousers-lovers and vice versa. The combat boots are a must, though, especially for solo hikers like me. Not only can they prevent most snake bites and provide much-needed ankle support, but if you do twist your ankle or sustain a similar injury, you’ll be able to hike back out sooner if you can cinch your boots tight around the afflicted area to give it more support.*
Image Credit: https://www.cdc.gov/disasters/extremeheat/warning.html That brings me to the one thing on this list that I usually wouldn’t bring on an ultralight hike: chemically-activated cold packs. I only carry one or two when I’m going out for more than an overnight hike, and I don’t waste them on injuries. They only last a couple of hours at best, so I keep them in reserve in case I stop sweating, feel dizzy, throw up, or any of the other signs of Heat Exhaustion and Heat Stroke (these links aren’t products, they’re CDC recommendations. READ THEM). Again, if you’re going solo backpacking, make sure that you’re current on your first aid training. And remember that if you pack it in, you have to pack it out. If you’re not willing to carry a bag of heavy, used-up chemicals in your trash when you hike home, don’t bring the cold packs.
One neat, lightweight, high-tech item that you don’t need to keep in reserve is a microfiber cooling towel. You only need one per person, and you can use and re-use it throughout your whole trip. It’s lightweight and worth the water consumption, I promise (and I know it’s gross, but sometimes this is a necessary consideration: the water doesn’t need to be filtered, or even clean, in order for the cooling effect to function. Be prepared, though: it’s polyester and it WILL smell if you sweat on it or use gross water.)
You may have noticed that up to this point I haven’t mentioned sunblock. YES, you should bring sunblock and apply it whenever it occurs to you, yes, you should try different brands and bring a kind that you like (I have to use baby sunblock or powdered sunblock, darn my sensitive skin).
One neat, lightweight, high-tech item that you don’t need to keep in reserve is a microfiber cooling towel. You only need one per person, and you can use and re-use it throughout your whole trip. It’s lightweight and worth the water consumption, I promise (and I know it’s gross, but sometimes this is a necessary consideration: the water doesn’t need to be filtered, or even clean, in order for the cooling effect to function. Be prepared, though: it’s polyester and it WILL smell if you sweat on it or use gross water.)
You may have noticed that up to this point I haven’t mentioned sunblock. YES, you should bring sunblock and apply it whenever it occurs to you, yes, you should try different brands and bring a kind that you like (I have to use baby sunblock or powdered sunblock, darn my sensitive skin).
I like the travel-size sunblock containers, and if I’m bringing powdered sunblock I put it in a separate container (hot tip: you don’t need to carry a makeup brush to apply powdered sunblock. This is not Cover Girl. Two fingertips are fine for what we’re doing here). [Second hot tip: if you are taking something pale and powdery out of its original container, DON’T BE A DUMBASS. Avoid carrying around white powder in plastic baggies, lest you get hassled by cops. When I bring protein shakes with me on the trail, I mix chia seeds into the serving precisely for this reason]
Yes, yes, sunblock is great and super important. HOWEVER, I do not trust myself to ACTUALLY stop and re-apply every 2 hours, and for best results, especially if you’re hiking without tree cover, that’s precisely what you need to do. So I rely on physical barriers between me and the evil day-star, and I use sunblock as a backup. And yes, I have pasty white skin that burns and discolors easily, so if that’s not your personal reality, your mileage may vary, but please please do remember that every skin type can get skin cancer. Those blessed with enough melanin to protect them from the sun evolved their beautiful dark or tan skin BEFORE we did so much damage to the ozone layer and let the scary UV rays come through in the quantities we experience today. You’re beautiful. You can get skin cancer. Try NOT to get skin cancer, okay?
Now, let’s talk about my next major reason not to go hiking in the summer in Texas: BUGS. Once upon a time, I had no problem with bugs. I was always the one in the house/cabin/tent to catch the sweet little spider, hornet, bee, or moth while my companions were screaming “kill it! KILL IT!” And I would let the innocent little invertebrate outside with all the care of a 3-year-old flower girl scattering one petal at a time ahead of an impatient bride. Then, one summer a few years ago, I forgot my good common sense and planned a two-week section hike on a part of my favorite trail that I hadn’t seen before. Apparently, no one else had seen it in months, either: the trail was COVERED in new-growth branches and vines, and most of all, there were spider webs every few feet. The mosquitos and other biting insects were bad enough that even when I was in a trail shelter, I unpacked my hammock tent and slept in it on the floor, just for the bug net. (Sidebar: I love my hammock tent and I never solo-hike without one. Take that, tent poles!) After only a week, (and a life-threatening injury, thank you), I was back at the trailhead and enjoying my car’s air conditioning. I promised myself that if I ever decided to do something so DUMB again, I would at least bring a machete. As it was, my hiking poles were covered with tree gunk and spider webs when I got back. I had developed a little flailing maneuver with my poles as I hiked, to knock the vines and spider webs out of my path before setting the tip down on the ground and taking my next step. (Hot tip: don’t try this maneuver unless you have wrist straps on your hiking poles. Even if you’re hiking alone, let’s not risk flinging our equipment into the bush, shall we?)
This leads me to our bug-repellent segment. Don’t bother with single-use bug spray wipes, citronella candles, or aerosol bug sprays. Avoid single-use anything: if you pack it in, you have to pack it back out, and that kind of trash builds up when you’re section-hiking or through-hiking, believe me. It’s less eco-friendly to generate that much trash anyway. And candles are pretty, I grant you, but they’re not worth the weight. Same goes for aerosols; also, a lot can go wrong if an aerosol canister gets pierced by accident, so you’re adding extra weight and extra danger for no real reason. Instead, carry a travel-size deep woods bug spray, and spray it all over (especially around the inside of your waistband, and the inside of your socks before you put your boots on in the morning). I spray morning and night, and touch up throughout the day if I start to feel bites.
Yes, yes, sunblock is great and super important. HOWEVER, I do not trust myself to ACTUALLY stop and re-apply every 2 hours, and for best results, especially if you’re hiking without tree cover, that’s precisely what you need to do. So I rely on physical barriers between me and the evil day-star, and I use sunblock as a backup. And yes, I have pasty white skin that burns and discolors easily, so if that’s not your personal reality, your mileage may vary, but please please do remember that every skin type can get skin cancer. Those blessed with enough melanin to protect them from the sun evolved their beautiful dark or tan skin BEFORE we did so much damage to the ozone layer and let the scary UV rays come through in the quantities we experience today. You’re beautiful. You can get skin cancer. Try NOT to get skin cancer, okay?
Now, let’s talk about my next major reason not to go hiking in the summer in Texas: BUGS. Once upon a time, I had no problem with bugs. I was always the one in the house/cabin/tent to catch the sweet little spider, hornet, bee, or moth while my companions were screaming “kill it! KILL IT!” And I would let the innocent little invertebrate outside with all the care of a 3-year-old flower girl scattering one petal at a time ahead of an impatient bride. Then, one summer a few years ago, I forgot my good common sense and planned a two-week section hike on a part of my favorite trail that I hadn’t seen before. Apparently, no one else had seen it in months, either: the trail was COVERED in new-growth branches and vines, and most of all, there were spider webs every few feet. The mosquitos and other biting insects were bad enough that even when I was in a trail shelter, I unpacked my hammock tent and slept in it on the floor, just for the bug net. (Sidebar: I love my hammock tent and I never solo-hike without one. Take that, tent poles!) After only a week, (and a life-threatening injury, thank you), I was back at the trailhead and enjoying my car’s air conditioning. I promised myself that if I ever decided to do something so DUMB again, I would at least bring a machete. As it was, my hiking poles were covered with tree gunk and spider webs when I got back. I had developed a little flailing maneuver with my poles as I hiked, to knock the vines and spider webs out of my path before setting the tip down on the ground and taking my next step. (Hot tip: don’t try this maneuver unless you have wrist straps on your hiking poles. Even if you’re hiking alone, let’s not risk flinging our equipment into the bush, shall we?)
This leads me to our bug-repellent segment. Don’t bother with single-use bug spray wipes, citronella candles, or aerosol bug sprays. Avoid single-use anything: if you pack it in, you have to pack it back out, and that kind of trash builds up when you’re section-hiking or through-hiking, believe me. It’s less eco-friendly to generate that much trash anyway. And candles are pretty, I grant you, but they’re not worth the weight. Same goes for aerosols; also, a lot can go wrong if an aerosol canister gets pierced by accident, so you’re adding extra weight and extra danger for no real reason. Instead, carry a travel-size deep woods bug spray, and spray it all over (especially around the inside of your waistband, and the inside of your socks before you put your boots on in the morning). I spray morning and night, and touch up throughout the day if I start to feel bites.
Image Credit: https://www.cdc.gov/lyme/removal/index.html Now, let’s talk about ticks! Ticks are the main reason I specifically recommend the deep-woods versions of bug spray, although both ticks and chiggers are why I tell you to spray it where your clothing cinches up tight around your ankles and waist. Ticks are also why I say that every first aid kit should include tweezers. (They’re good for splinter removal too, of course, if you don’t want to carry a special splinter tool.) And yes, I do recommend bringing the fancy eyebrow tweezers with the tilted flat edge and the sharp point. When you make camp every night, check yourself all over for ticks. The only way to do a truly effective tick-check involves stripping down to what my favorite author, artist, and blogger Ursula Vernon calls “the least-sexy form of nudity,” and running your hands over every inch of your skin. This is where buddy-hiking can come in handy, as long as your buddy is over 18 and therefore you are not scarring children and/or being a perv. Don’t be a perv. If you find a suspicious hanger-on, (the tick, not the perv. Though the tweezers can come in handy there too, I suppose), DO NOT PULL IT OUT WITH YOUR FINGERS. The point of the flat tweezers is to try and get the whole tick, preferably alive. Its head will be buried VERY firmly in your skin, and the head will come apart from the body much more easily than you think. Use your flat tweezers, don’t clamp them too tight, and pull gently in a straight line to try to get the tick’s head out with the body. Then you save the tick so it can be tested for Lyme disease and other vector-borne illnesses when you get back to civilization. I was originally taught to preserve the tick by sticking it to a small piece of medical tape and folding the tape over, but that method kills the tick. Now I use an empty pill canister on the off-chance that I can keep the tick alive until I reach a doctor. (I usually store my daily meds in pill canisters of this kind because even my favorite travel pill case doesn’t close tightly enough for backpacking purposes. I’m hard on my equipment.)
Questions? Concerns? Comments? Feel free to comment below or use this website's Contact Form. And as my 5-year-old is always saying (usually when I'm eating and he isn't), "Sharing Is Caring!" The more you share this post, the better I will be able to provide for my adorable little terror, known as The Wild Scamp. One of my soon-to-come blog posts will be about taking The Wild Scamp on some of his first camping trips and hikes -- and all of the products that we got ahead, as well as the ones we wished that we had.
Stay safe, leave a travel plan with a friend (with maps! MAPS, DARNIT!) and give your body a chance to acclimate to moving around in the heat before you decide what you can and can't carry in this blistering weather.
All my best,
-FibroHiker
*Note: DO NOT DO THIS unless you have received the necessary first-aid training to know how to diagnose and treat your own ankle injuries. And definitely do not try walking on a sprained ankle until you ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO. A sprain can be worse than a break, and walking on it too soon can mean your injury lasts years, even decades. Ration your resources so you can give yourself extra days of rest, keep your leg elevated, and for heaven’s sake call, whistle, and smoke-signal for someone to come out and help you. That’s right, I said it. Ask for help. Call for help. Don’t move unless you’re 100% sure that help isn’t coming, and even then, wait as long as you possibly can. Don’t make me come lecture you if you have to have your leg amputated because you wouldn’t ask for help. And YES, that’s a real thing that can really happen. The amputation and the lecture, both.
Questions? Concerns? Comments? Feel free to comment below or use this website's Contact Form. And as my 5-year-old is always saying (usually when I'm eating and he isn't), "Sharing Is Caring!" The more you share this post, the better I will be able to provide for my adorable little terror, known as The Wild Scamp. One of my soon-to-come blog posts will be about taking The Wild Scamp on some of his first camping trips and hikes -- and all of the products that we got ahead, as well as the ones we wished that we had.
Stay safe, leave a travel plan with a friend (with maps! MAPS, DARNIT!) and give your body a chance to acclimate to moving around in the heat before you decide what you can and can't carry in this blistering weather.
All my best,
-FibroHiker
*Note: DO NOT DO THIS unless you have received the necessary first-aid training to know how to diagnose and treat your own ankle injuries. And definitely do not try walking on a sprained ankle until you ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO. A sprain can be worse than a break, and walking on it too soon can mean your injury lasts years, even decades. Ration your resources so you can give yourself extra days of rest, keep your leg elevated, and for heaven’s sake call, whistle, and smoke-signal for someone to come out and help you. That’s right, I said it. Ask for help. Call for help. Don’t move unless you’re 100% sure that help isn’t coming, and even then, wait as long as you possibly can. Don’t make me come lecture you if you have to have your leg amputated because you wouldn’t ask for help. And YES, that’s a real thing that can really happen. The amputation and the lecture, both.
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