My biggest team failure in 2025


TOWhile my gear setup worked pretty well overall this summer on the Great Divide Trail, I also experienced several palm-inducing gear failures, all of which I paid for in money, time, and useless suffering along the way. From forgetting (or convincing myself I could do without) certain basic necessities to choosing items that weren’t durable enough for the rigors of a notoriously rugged trail, I made too many mistakes on my packing list this year.

Most of them arose from general chaos and lack of organization on my part, so if you’re reading this hoping to avoid similar team disasters, my biggest advice is to PLAN AHEAD. If you clicked on this article, you’re clearly already thinking about it, so congratulations, you’re way ahead of the game. I hope sharing my biggest mistakes of the year helps you avoid them on your own adventures.

1. Putting too much faith in a Light My Fire fork.

It cracked on day 0. It broke completely on day 6. Luckily, I have several more waiting in the wings that I’ve received as Christmas gifts over the years, but this so called indestructible camping fork It was no match for the thick, sludge-like slurries of food I normally prefer on the trails. I ended up replacing it with a long-handled titanium spoon in the first town I passed through. This is the utensil I should have brought from the jump, but I didn’t find mine.

2. Wear super ultralight waterproof pants to the GDT.

Don’t do this. I have three ounces Lightheart Gear Rain Pants before the hike and thought they would fit perfectly on a trail known for its bush sections. Of course, I didn’t realize that I would basically be living in my pants every waking moment for five straight weeks of rain, but still.

The first tear appeared on day 2 and I spent the rest of the hike doing frequent repairs with Leukotape, nothing more, to keep them at least semi-functional. I could swear that in the end they were more leuko than original fabric. To be fair to the pants, they never completely failed me even though I put them through a lot. In fact, I’d recommend them on a more normal hike like the AT or PCT, if you’re in the market for waterproof pants. For the GDT, opt for something much longer lasting and eat the leftover grams.

3. Forgetting an insect net. In July. In the northern Rocky Mountains.

The mosquitoes were relentless this summer, especially since it was such a cold year that the spring thaw was delayed; At the end of July, I expected them to be dying, and maybe they were, but they were still objectively terrible. This is one of those items that I usually have in my backpack and rarely end up using, so when I couldn’t find mine, I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal to go without.

My hiking partner had a bug net that she let me use literally the entire hike, bless her. In the end, I used my borrowed bug net practically every day on the GDT. The moral of the story here is: take the bug net. It weighs virtually nothing and takes up no space, and you never know when your sanity could depend entirely on whether you have one or not.

4. Walking in a shoe you’ve never tried before.

To be fair, I put them through a lot.

Five weeks on rough terrain in a shoe you’ve never worn before? What could go wrong? Answer: everything. I tested the Inov-8 Trailfly Zeros this summer, drawn to the siren song of grippy graphene soles. While the shoes were as durable as I’d hoped, they didn’t fit very well and I had more foot problems than I would have liked this summer, including the return of the plantar fasciitis that once plagued me in my AT days.

This is not necessarily a reflection on the shoe itself, which has been well reviewed in the hiking world in general and which, again, is remarkably durable. But if I had taken the time to wear them on even a few day hikes and runs, I would have realized they weren’t for me and opted for one of my tried-and-true models.

5. Thinking that one day I might wear shorts this summer. HA HA HA.

This summer was definitely not a short one. Also: let’s pretend everyone has good posture!

I brought a pair of Patagonia Baggies this summer, thinking I’d like to wear them on hot days. I usually walk in pants, but heat rash can be a real problem when the mercury rises. As it turned out, conditions this summer were exceptionally cold and wet. I think I wore the shorts once on the trail, just to feel like they weren’t dead weight in my pack.

To be fair, I couldn’t have predicted that the entire summer would be so tough, and for another year, shorts would have been a great addition to my gear. This time I was simply annoyed that his presence added useless ounces to my base weight.

On a longer walk, I would have mailed them home. But for five weeks, figuring out how to mail a pair of shorts internationally seemed like a disproportionate response, so I just ate the weight and tried to be grateful that I always had something clean to wear on laundry day.

6. Forgetting a platform to sit on. Are you feeling the theme here?

I bought one of Nemo’s recycled foam pads the first chance I got. Remember: Great. Position.

In my chaotic last-minute packing frenzy, I couldn’t find my trusty Therm-a-Rest Z-lite sitting cushion. “It’s a luxury item,” I told myself. «I don’t even need it anyway. I’ll be better off without the weight!»

Negative, The Ghost Rider. A sitting pad may be a luxury item, but it’s one of those fringe things that is so widely accepted and functional that it might as well be promoted to the list of required equipment. I bought a NEMO sitting platform in the first city I visited.

7. Biggest failure overall: Packing most of my packing within 48 hours of starting a 5-week hike.

As a digital nomad, these days I keep most of my backpacking gear at home and it’s too confusing. With limited opportunities to look at and handle my own things in person, half the time I no longer have a clue what I have or where it is.

Until a few days before the GDT, I had a vague theoretical packing list in mind, but I still had to assemble 90% of the equipment I wanted to carry in person. When I got to my parents’ house and gained access to my main equipment, I went into frantic panic mode, searching their garage for random items that I thought would be there, but could actually have been in Bulgaria or possibly New Jersey all along.

Overall, my gear setup was pretty decent this summer, but the result of this messy packing was all the other gear failures mentioned above: I had the wrong shoes because I hadn’t tried them on first, and I forgot several things I really would have liked to have with me.

Moral of the story

Once again: determine your equipment in advance. Even if you have backpacking experience, put your entire pack together a few weeks before your start date and, ideally, pack it overnight to make sure you don’t forget anything. The experience on the trail will quickly bring to light any items you may have overlooked in your first suitcase.

If I had been more organized, I would have avoided a lot of physical pain and annoying inconvenience, not to mention saving about $100 on purchasing replacement parts for random pieces of gear I already had but didn’t give myself enough time to track down before starting the tour. Don’t be like me!

Cover image: Graphic design by Zack Goldman.

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