Old school camping

I ventured up in the attic this evening to bring down my backpacking gear. Turned into a fun evening, remembering past trips. Sadly, most of this stuff hasn't been out of the storage crates in 10 years.

I resisted moving the crates to the attic until just a couple of years ago, because storing my gear up there seemed almost equivalent to putting it in a yard sale. I was resigned to the fact that once it was all stowed nicely overhead, it would be a while before it came out again. At least when it was on our closet floor, and then later in the garage, near the washing machine, I looked at the crates often. But up in the attic, the gear was out of the way and out of mind.

I found lots of goodies. My compass, my grandpa's cookset, a group cookset that Pops gave me, a couple of different stoves and about a half dozen flashlights. All left over from different adventures.

In another crate I found the last of my bike-camping gear. Stuff that hasn't been used since I was 22 years old. Packs and bike tubes and repair kits from a time when I decided to move to my summer job by mountain bike. A time when I was about 50 pounds lighter and able to ride 50 miles a day, sleep on the ground and STILL ride the next day.

Tonight I am trying to burn off the remaining decade old gas from my camping stove. I was surprised that it lit without any effort, even though I know the gas bottle was last filled in the spring of 1995. I want to make sure that it is filled with new fuel for this next trip.

Kind of like the way seeing all of this stuff energizes me and makes me want to run for the hills with 40 pounds on my back.