The Backpack:

The Mountain Mule

When we travelled overland, Dennis carried his Mountain Mule, a pack designed to carry heavy loads while hunting deer and chamois in the South Island of New Zealand. It had leather shoulder straps, an outer steel frame and consisted of a sack made from canvas. Liquid cooking fuel for the primus could be carried within the hollow steel tubing. Unlike the packs worn today it was heavy and the weight hung mostly from the back and shoulders.

Packs in the early 70s:

Packs with aluminium frames and sacks made from nylon were beginning to appear on the scene by 1971. They were expensive—the equivalent of $350 to $650 today. Instead of rushing out and buying an expensive pack Dennis decided to make do with his Mountain Mule.

Like Dennis, I wasn’t about to rush out and buy an expensive pack. Instead, I made a pattern, cut rain-proof material into multiple squares and rectangles then, using the sewing machine, sewed the pieces together.

It resembled a large cube with several smaller cubes enclosed with zips. Sorry no photo. I must have thrown it out when the spiders made it their home. We then purchased an aluminium frame. Because the frame had a hip belt and buckled up the front, the weight was distributed evenly between the shoulders, back and hip. I was set to go.

What to Carry in Your Pack—Less is More:

When we first began hitchhiking, we carried camping gear. Once loaded up, Dennis’s pack weighed 35 pounds while my pack weighed 25 pounds, not counting the weight of a shoulder bag filled with several extra pounds of essentials to keep face and body in order. It didn’t take long before we began to part with non-essentials.

It was easy to spot those who had been on the road the longest. They carried the least.

You Touch My Pack—You Die!

It is amazing how territorial you can become about your pack when it is your only possession. While standing on a train in India (we were packed in like a can of sardines) I allowed my pack to slide to the floor to get the weight from off my back. A man sat on his haunches, his body pressed against my feet. His hand slowly reached out towards my pack. We locked eyes. I glared at him as if to say, “You touch my pack, you die!” The hand slowly slid back.

The whole thing was ridiculous anyway. The only thing in my pack—an Afghan doll purchased in Kandahar and an assortment of dirty clothes and underwear.

Feed Me!

We spend most of our lives accumulating things—lots of things.  Each of these things demands something of us. A house, a car—both require maintenance. Even if you only possess a goldfish it will demand to be fed.

Definition of freedom—Being on the road, our only possessions—our packs and what we carried.

Have you hitchhiked any distance with a backpack?

What kind of pack was it?

What would you consider to be the most valued possession carried within?