The Adventures of my Rucksack

This summer I completed my Mountain Leader training, and the last two days involved an expedition: navigate to a camp spot, set up camp and undertake a night navigation. As we hauled our heavy rucksacks out of the vehicle, one of my fellow trainees commented on my rucksack. Mucky and faded, he said something about how it must have been on lots of adventures.

It got me thinking about the stories my rucksack could tell.

I'm trying to remember when I got it, but I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure my parents bought it for me as a Christmas or birthday present. Perhaps it was before the trip to Iceland, where 3 of us toured the ring road looking for waterfalls for the boys to canoe off. It certainly accompanied me on some fun mini adventures in Scotland.

Singing Sands, Scottish Highlands

The rucksack definitely accompanied me to New Zealand. With university done and dusted, Ben and I took off to the other side of the world in search of Middle Earth, the Kiwi lifestyle and the one and only "vanlife".

Abel Tasman National Park, NZ

Yet I'm sure most of my rucksack's faded age and muck came from our two months trekking and exploring in Nepal. For a whole month, the rucksack and I were like one entity. I was like a tortoise, carrying my life around on my back. After a month of clipping the belt around my waste, I suddenly realised there was a patch of skin on my left hip that had gone numb. It took months for it to feel normal again. You can read more about our Nepal trekking adventure here.

Trekking in Nepal

My rucksack has been to Canada, where it enjoyed relaxing in the canoe as Ben and I paddled around the Bowron Lake circuit. It bumped around on my back anytime we had to portage. It accompanied me up on the Skyline Trail in Jasper National Park, and then got all soggy as we bailed from the route due to poor weather and descended back to the highway through the misty woods. My rucksack clung onto my back as I sang "Bear Necessities" the whole way down because I was so scared of bumping into a bear. 

Skyline Trail, Jasper National Park, Canada

Where will my rucksack go next? The Tropics...

My rucksack is a Lowe Alpine Annapurna 65:80.
All photos by Ben McKeown https://www.thebigbluetree.com 

A Flying Visit to Iceland

I never take short breaks abroad. I'm not a good flier for one thing. Any mention of the word "turbulence" sends my stomach into knots. I'm also trying to live a more environmentally friendly life, and I do suffer from "flight shame" when I travel abroad. For some reason I feel better about it if I spend a longer period of time wherever I'm flying to. However, this September I flew to Iceland for 3 days. Sorry planet, but this was a one off. A special occasion to meet up with some besties, one of whom lives on the other side of the world now.

I visited Iceland in 2010, with two boys who were keen to explore the island, but were also chasing waterfalls to catapult from in their kayaks. We spent a week driving the ring road in our just-about-a-4-wheel-drive, wild camping along the way and living as cheaply as possible (a challenge). It was amazing, and I've wanted to go back for years. I've just been, and I want to go back again.

There was a little driving this time, but it was as much about catching up in the lovely city of Reykjavik, wandering the streets and eating lots of chocolate. And cinnamon buns. And drinking lots of coffee. Did I mention eating chocolate? The fish tacos were good too.

We spent a day exploring the Reykjanes Peninsula, an often forgotten corner of Iceland. People tend to swarm the Blue Lagoon (which was a fab experience I have to admit), and then zoom off to Reykjavik and the other more famous honeypots. Yet the Reykjanes Peninsula has plenty to show, from The Bridge Between Continents to the Viking Museum to the mud pools and steam vents at Gunnuhver. We walked through the rain towards the sea from the mud pools (I'm drawn to the sea like a magnet), and came across an old lighthouse, white paint peeling, looking out over the most dramatic coastline. Waves crashed black igneous rock, the sea having worn the headland down to various stacks and stumps over time.

You see so much in a day in Iceland. It's geologically fascinating, it's dramatic and it's vast. I can't wait to go back and explore again. Best save some pennies first.