America’s Best Backpacking and Outdoor Adventures
By Michael Lanza
Like moths to a flame—or perhaps pikas to talus—at some point, many serious backpackers will decide they must thru-hike the John Muir Trail. But some will wonder whether they’re ready or have the time for a 221-mile hike that may take up to three weeks—and many will fail to get one of the most sought-after wilderness permits in the country. What then?
By Michael Lanza
While I always prefer to get as far from any road as possible whenever I visit a mountain range, one truth that may—and perhaps must—be said of the Canadian Rockies is that they will leave you smitten with an lifelong, unshakeable love before you even step out of the car. Driving to any trailhead along the 143-mile-long (232-kilometer) Icefields Parkway between Lake Louise and the town of Jasper, or along the Trans-Canada Highway across the mountains, and you will struggle to sound like a literate person as superlatives and simple gasps of “wow” roll repeatedly off your tongue. On my most recent visit we saw, in addition to countless, sizable glaciers tumbling off a chain of peaks stretching for miles, perhaps the largest grizzly bear of my life (a sow with two cubs), two bull elk with racks possibly broader than my wingspan, and a pod of bighorn sheep—all from the car in one afternoon on the Icefields Parkway.
By Michael Lanza
Have you been disappointed by backpacking trips that were too hot or too cold or too buggy or too crowded, or too hard or long or short, or where permits weren’t available for the hike you really wanted, or where you had sketchy creek or snow crossings or other scary hazards, or you missed the wildflowers or foliage season or didn’t see much wildlife?
If so, this story is going to help you solve those problems.
By Michael Lanza
A thin, hazy overcast keeps the sun from frying my longtime friend and adventure partner David Ports and me as we descend the Grand Canyon’s South Kaibab Trail—a trail I’ve now hiked more times than I can immediately recall. And yet, watching how the marching, broken clouds cause the light to shift across the broad expanse of canyon visible to us, seeming to repaint and reshape the landscape every few minutes, it still feels fresh and thrilling to me.
By Michael Lanza
On the first afternoon of a five-day, late-summer backpacking trip covering much of the 93-mile Wonderland Trail around Mount Rainier, two friends and I were making a long ascent through meadows bursting with lupine when we spotted two mountain goats staring at us from rocks partly hidden by bushes—and within seconds, we counted nine goats. Not much later, the morning fog finally lifted, revealing Mount Rainier in all its glory, a vast mountainside of ice and snow rising nearly 8,000 feet above us. Crossing endless wildflower meadows in warm sunshine, a light breeze, and just about perfect hiking temperatures, we reached Panhandle Gap at 6,750 feet—the highest point on the Wonderland—with its expansive view of The Mountain. Below us, at least 18 mountain goats grazed in a flat meadow carpeted in green grass.
And that anecdote encapsulates scenes that occurred daily on the Wonderland Trail.