Pardon my bragging, but I have a small group of friends who are quite accomplished adventurers. We’ve done things. Biked all the way across the Pisgah Ranger District. We’ve snow-camped at 5,500 feet in the middle of a blizzard. We’ve ridden our bikes 150 miles from one brewery to the next. We’ve run through the night, as a team, with a DJ accompanying us while carrying a boom box on his shoulder. We’ve raced serious time trials in cut off jean shorts. We’re worldly. Follow our advice for planning your next epic adventure, be it a formal race or three solitary nights in the woods, and you too will come out the other end far more worldly.
1. Don’t bother training. Got a race with a distance you’ve never even driven before? Wing it. It’s best to go in with fresh legs. I don’t care what your Cat 2 racing neighbor says, you can ride 100 miles in the summer heat without logging any tempo workouts. Look, anybody can race in their peak performance shape, but only a few of us have the courage to tackle the challenge with a pudgy belly.
2. Leave the map in the glove box. I like maps when they’re hanging on a wall and marking the spot for pirate treasure, but they have no place in the backcountry. Ditto for compasses. And don’t get me started on GPS. If Columbus had a GPS, he never would have discovered America. Think about that.
3. Fact: hydration is important. Fact: beer hydrates. That’s not just mumbo jumbo, there’s real science to back that up. Not only does beer hydrate your body, it hydrates your mind. I’ve gotten some of my best adventure ideas while hydrating at a local hydrating establishment. I find it’s best to keep hydrating throughout the epic adventure.
4. Agendas are meant to be broken. Having a plan of attack is all well and good, but sticking to a strict “schedule” feels a bit like school, doesn’t it? Try this the next time you’re planning a multi-day backpacking trip: Write down what time you need to be at the trailhead, how long you plan to hike each day, and where you’ll camp each night. Then burn that plan, eat an enormous breakfast at the Waffle House, take a nap, and show up to the trailhead six hours late so you’re forced to hike for three hours in the dark just to reach the next flat campsite. That’s the way real adventurers do it.
5. Bail at the first sign of trouble. Determination is a fine trait amongst terriers and pit bulls, but it can be downright dangerous in an adventurer. There’s no need to be overzealous about actually completing your adventure. If you have the opportunity to, say, take a shorter trail that leads to a Taco Bell, you should take that trail. If you’re in the middle of a century and you get a flat, by all means, hitch a ride. You’ll make more friends and have a better story to tell.
6. Ask no one’s advice. The mountains are literally filled with experts who’ve hiked the exact trails you’re looking to hike, fished the rivers you want to fish, biked the roads you’re determined to bike. The knowledge they have could fill volumes. Do not ask them for help. Why would you want to go into a multi-day road ride with first-hand beta of the route and restaurants along the way? That’s practically cheating. You may as well be carrying a GPS.
7. Ignore the weather conditions. Sure, it’s 2 degrees and dumping snow, but you’ve got a brand new three-season tent and a 45-degree bag you’re itching to use. Go for it. Frostbite isn’t as bad as people say it is. It’s actually kind of tingly.
8. Leave your significant other a detailed plan. This is my favorite note: “Honey, I’ll be right back.” Then disappear for three days into the woods with no cell service. All those calls to the emergency room and rescue squads will make your relationship stronger. I promise.
9. Plan all your meals and snacks in advance. Then cut those meals in half. Then cut them in half again to save weight. Yes, you’re burning 5,000 extra calories a day, but you want to know how to get supermodel thin real fast? Get two-days deep into the woods on a five-day trip and realize you’ve eaten all your food. You’ll be looking like Kate Moss in no time.
10. Spray big.
Talk up a big game at the local hydrating hole about how you’re going to knock out the entire A.T. in two months while tweeting haikus from every mountain summit. The next morning, pull a switcheroo and decide to spend a weekend car camping at the nearest state park. But still tweet the haikus. Haikus are cool.