This summer, we told ourselves we would take the shortest route to a backcountry lake for the sake of the kids. My husband and I were eager to pitch a tent far from the crowds and noise of developed campgrounds, and the easiest way to do that was to lighten the load and make our eight- and six-year-old boys’ first backpacking endeavor as painless as possible. After all, I wanted them to fall in love. I hoped three days and two nights spent camping high in Colorado’s Indian Peaks Wilderness would leave my sons with an appreciation for the simplicity and beauty of backpacking.

As we clambered up the steep final mile to our site, sharp rocks defining the serpentine trail, Silas, the six-year-old, bounded forward with a puppy’s enthusiasm. Henry was steadier and solid, a bit dehydrated but with his inner diesel engine chugging along. I, on the other hand, was suffering. My shoulders complained and my hips objected to the extra 40 pounds on my back. I hadn’t carried a load like that since being nine months pregnant. Not only was I hauling my fair share, I also had extra water, layers, snacks, and a book for the boys. I’d also thrown in an additional fuel canister, more bug spray, and a lot of sunscreen—anything to make life easier for the kids. But it was making my reality harder (welcome to parenting!) and I silently grumbled that backpacking with kids was absurd, more painful than rewarding.

But then we burst out of the forest and onto boulders overlooking Columbine Lake, a smooth, small waterbody tucked into a dramatic alpine crucible. I shed my heavy pack and turned my sweat-soaked back to the breeze, hopeful that the calm and scenic view would wash away the trail grime and exhaustion. As the kids clambered down to the water to skip rocks, Jeff, my husband, rubbed my shoulders, and I leaned into him with the realization that our simple, three-mile hike was as much for my benefit as for the kids’.

Backpacking 101

Though my boys have grown up hiking on trails and car camping, we had never before pared down to the essentials and walked several miles into the woods with everything we would need for a few days. When I proposed a backpacking trip close to home for our summer vacation, the kids and Jeff were thrilled. I was, too, until I started contemplating all the prep this trip would require. I wasn’t anxious as much as I was pessimistic; first backpacking trips have serious potential for disaster. It’s a far-from-intuitive endeavor.

To wit: the first time I went backpacking—in 1993, three weeks after graduating from high school—a friend and I lugged poorly packed backpacks across eight-plus miles and up some 3,000 feet to a high alpine lake in Grand Teton National Park, only to discover we’d forgotten our water purifier, tent stakes, stove fuel, and bug spray. Our four-day trip shrunk to a sub-24-hour adventure.

For my family’s trip, I mentally divided the planning into two parts: Big Picture and Important Details. This worked well with the dynamics of my marriage; I’m the create-momentum person in the partnership while Jeff sweats the details.

Big Picture Backpacking Planning: Destination, Permit, Gear

There were three things we needed to do to create the scaffolding for our trip: Pick a destination, secure a permit, and procure any gear we lacked.

Destination: For previously mentioned reasons, we decided three miles would be the best distance. Even though Jeff and I carried the bulk of the weight, the boys each toted their own packs with water, snacks, and a rain jacket—more than they’d carried previously—and we didn’t want to overface them. This distance limited our destination options, and after studying a map of the Indian Peaks Wilderness (a destination within a few hours' drive from our house in Boulder), we quickly settled on Columbine Lake.

Permit: The Indian Peaks Wilderness is in the Arapaho & Roosevelt National Forests, and the ranger district happens to be in Boulder, a few miles from our house. We bought our permit in person ($5), but permits can also be acquired by mail.

Gear: Our garage doubles as a massive gear closet, thanks to my years of reviewing it for magazines, my husband’s gearhead proclivities, and our joint penchant for adventure. Still, we were short a few things; mainly, warm sleeping bags and jackets for the boys, and enough lightweight sleeping pads for the four of us. We considered renting sleeping bags and pads from the REI store in Denver, but ultimately splurged on a few key pieces for the boys, namely, Big Agnes down bags (this after they shivered through a few spring car camping trips in big box store sleeping bags), puffy jackets from Patagonia, and Osprey packs. This was entirely a luxury and not necessary (between renting and making do with our gear cache, we could have outfitted the grommets). We decided to invest in good gear because we hope backpacking will become something we do somewhat regularly, and because this backpacking trip was our family summer vacation—why not use some of what we saved by not flying anywhere or staying in hotels for gear? Plus, the kids will have those packs and bags their entire childhood and, hopefully, beyond.

Pre-Trip Important Details

By “important details,” I mean food, water, and toilet.

Food: I married a man whose happiest moments in life include a semester-long NOLS course in Alaska. He thrills at planning detailed backcountry menus and sorting food into individual, labeled bags. Here’s what I learned observing him menu-plan for our trip: Write everything down; shop in bulk; invest in small bottles. Jeff created a menu and detailed every ingredient necessary for each breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Because we wanted the kids to dig in, he indulged: pancakes, pre-cooked bacon, even eggs. He put all of the food into labeled ziplock bags and sorted meals into individual stuff sacks—breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. One dinner was easy: instant ramen with added salami for protein. Our first night, we had hot dogs and buns. Minimalist we were not—we brought tea and hot cocoa, coffee and chocolate, plus crackers, dried fruit, and nuts. Pre-kids, Jeff and I prided ourselves on going light. This time, we justified the extra weight with the short distance into the lake.

Water: We filtered water with the easiest system I’ve ever used: a gravity drip filtration from Platypus. The filter comes with two bags for water—dirty and clean—that are connected by a filter. It’s easy to use and works quickly. And the boys loved filling up the four-liter “dirty” water bag from the nearby creek.

Toilet: I thought teaching the boys about pooping in the woods would be … messy. I was wrong. Both kids were excited about the prospect of digging holes and using minimal toilet paper while being as clean as possible. We brought sanitary wipes for their hands (which we packed out, of course), and they took to answering nature’s call as though they’d done it their entire lives. Which, I suppose, they have.

The Verdict

I wanted to go backpacking with my family because I wanted to share the joy of tuning into the natural rhythms of the sun, the self-sufficiency of fetching and purifying water, and the beauty of small, quiet moments. Jeff was keen to take the boys to the lakeshore and cast for trout before breakfast.

With the boys at a formative elementary-school age I also wanted to share with them my love for the natural world. I hoped to impress upon them the importance of public lands. Teach them now about the value of wildness, I figured, and hopefully they’ll grow up to be conservationists and stewards.

By retreating into the wild with our little tribe of four, we silenced the chaos and noise that regularly competes for our attention and focused on one another. We gave the boys their first Swiss Army knives and enjoyed many (surprisingly bloodless) whittling sessions. With their lightweight Tenkara flyfishing rods, they chased elusive trout, and we all moved our bodies more in a morning than we typically do in a single day. At night we bedded down together and amused ourselves with made-up stories about rocket ships, alien villains, and superheroes who happened to be named Henry and Silas.

And my struggle on the way up under the burden of my heavy pack? It dissipated within minutes. By the time we hiked out three days later, my pack was only a bit lighter (not entirely sure how that happened), but my spirit was stronger. It was as though by sharing the backpacking love with my family, I had lightened my load—at least mentally. Best of all the kids are eager for a repeat. Me too.