t over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but

Four feet of snow at 13,000 feet, and I was in my running shoes. I had just 11 pounds on my back for an overnight hike. Some people think lightweight hiking and backpacking is only for warmer weather. You do have to be more careful in colder weather, but I wasn't crazy. I had just been going lightweight for too long to want to go back to a heavy pack and hiking boots.

Hiking To Crestone Peak

It was September 2006, and I was in the Sangre De Christo Mountains in Colorado. I was hiking up the trail to South Colony Lakes when I surprised a large buck, who snorted and ran off. The patches of snow were getting larger as I went higher, and I poked at the frozen puddles with my walking stick.

I was hoping to climb Crestone Peak and Crestone Needle. Earlier in the month I was rained out, and then it snowed heavily in the high country on September 18. I watched the online forums to see if anyone was still climbing these "fourteeners" (mountains higher than 14,000 feet) in the Sangres. One person did mention climbing up Crestone through the snow. I didn't want to do that.

By the 28th there had been several warm days, so maybe the snow melted, I thought. There wasn't any snow where I parked the car, but by the time I hiked to South Colony Lakes a few hours later, it was almost knee-deep. Above the lakes and beyond the last of the trees, the snow was even deeper.

The sun kept me warm, despite the fact that my shoes and socks were soaked. I only continued because it looked like there was bare rock further up. Then my goal was just getting to Broken-Hand Pass, where I could look down into the San Luis Valley on the other side. Soon I was 100 yards away.

The climb was so steep and the snow so deep, that I was sliding back at least as far as each step took me. I slipped at one point, and self-arrested with my walking stick to keep from sliding a few hundred feet down the mountainside. I was obviously too under-equipped to even make it the last 100 feet to the pass.

Lightweight Backpacking

Hiking downhill was worse, as it often is. I hit my shins against rocks hidden in the snow. I could walk on top of the snow crust at times, at least until I suddenly broke through - which I did when I stopped to look at some bobcat tracks. He had no problem walking on top of the snow. I was happy that I didn't have much weight in my backpack.

I was carrying 11 pounds, to be exact. The backpack weighed a pound or so, my down sleeping bag weighed 17 ounces, and the tarp was 16 ounces or so. Food, water, a camera and dry socks added a few more pounds. I hardly even noticed the pack - even after 13 miles of hiking.

Once I was back down near the lakes it was time to put my lightweight hiking and backpacking skills and equipment to the test. The temperature would drop to about 24 degrees Fahrenheit overnight.

There was grassy area where the snow had mostly melted. The sun was still warm, so I laid out my wet socks and shoes to dry on a large log. I ate some mixed nuts, wrote some notes, and then took a nap. When several deer walked by an hour later, I woke up gripping my walking stick like a weapon.

My shoes and socks were dry, so I got busy setting up camp. 20 minutes of collecting dry grass and old thistle stalks gave me a thick mattress. It was for comfort, but also insulation to keep me warm and dry. My plastic groundsheet went over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but I

ry on September 18. I watched the online forums to see if anyone was still climbing these "fourteeners" (mountains higher than 14,000 feet) in the Sangres. One person did mention climbing up Crestone through the snow. I didn't want to do that.

By the 28th there had been several warm days, so maybe the snow melted, I thought. There wasn't any snow where I parked the car, but by the time I hiked to South Colony Lakes a few hours later, it was almost knee-deep. Above the lakes and beyond the last of the trees, the snow was even deeper.

The sun kept me warm, despite the fact that my shoes and socks were soaked. I only continued because it looked like there was bare rock further up. Then my goal was just getting to Broken-Hand Pass, where I could look down into the San Luis Valley on the other side. Soon I was 100 yards away.

The climb was so steep and the snow so deep, that I was sliding back at least as far as each step took me. I slipped at one point, and self-arrested with my walking stick to keep from sliding a few hundred feet down the mountainside. I was obviously too under-equipped to even make it the last 100 feet to the pass.

Lightweight Backpacking

Hiking downhill was worse, as it often is. I hit my shins against rocks hidden in the snow. I could walk on top of the snow crust at times, at least until I suddenly broke through - which I did when I stopped to look at some bobcat tracks. He had no problem walking on top of the snow. I was happy that I didn't have much weight in my backpack.

I was carrying 11 pounds, to be exact. The backpack weighed a pound or so, my down sleeping bag weighed 17 ounces, and the tarp was 16 ounces or so. Food, water, a camera and dry socks added a few more pounds. I hardly even noticed the pack - even after 13 miles of hiking.

Once I was back down near the lakes it was time to put my lightweight hiking and backpacking skills and equipment to the test. The temperature would drop to about 24 degrees Fahrenheit overnight.

There was grassy area where the snow had mostly melted. The sun was still warm, so I laid out my wet socks and shoes to dry on a large log. I ate some mixed nuts, wrote some notes, and then took a nap. When several deer walked by an hour later, I woke up gripping my walking stick like a weapon.

My shoes and socks were dry, so I got busy setting up camp. 20 minutes of collecting dry grass and old thistle stalks gave me a thick mattress. It was for comfort, but also insulation to keep me warm and dry. My plastic groundsheet went over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but

b was so steep and the snow so deep, that I was sliding back at least as far as each step took me. I slipped at one point, and self-arrested with my walking stick to keep from sliding a few hundred feet down the mountainside. I was obviously too under-equipped to even make it the last 100 feet to the pass.

Lightweight Backpacking

Hiking downhill was worse, as it often is. I hit my shins against rocks hidden in the snow. I could walk on top of the snow crust at times, at least until I suddenly broke through - which I did when I stopped to look at some bobcat tracks. He had no problem walking on top of the snow. I was happy that I didn't have much weight in my backpack.

I was carrying 11 pounds, to be exact. The backpack weighed a pound or so, my down sleeping bag weighed 17 ounces, and the tarp was 16 ounces or so. Food, water, a camera and dry socks added a few more pounds. I hardly even noticed the pack - even after 13 miles of hiking.

Once I was back down near the lakes it was time to put my lightweight hiking and backpacking skills and equipment to the test. The temperature would drop to about 24 degrees Fahrenheit overnight.

There was grassy area where the snow had mostly melted. The sun was still warm, so I laid out my wet socks and shoes to dry on a large log. I ate some mixed nuts, wrote some notes, and then took a nap. When several deer walked by an hour later, I woke up gripping my walking stick like a weapon.

My shoes and socks were dry, so I got busy setting up camp. 20 minutes of collecting dry grass and old thistle stalks gave me a thick mattress. It was for comfort, but also insulation to keep me warm and dry. My plastic groundsheet went over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but

r, a camera and dry socks added a few more pounds. I hardly even noticed the pack - even after 13 miles of hiking.

Once I was back down near the lakes it was time to put my lightweight hiking and backpacking skills and equipment to the test. The temperature would drop to about 24 degrees Fahrenheit overnight.

There was grassy area where the snow had mostly melted. The sun was still warm, so I laid out my wet socks and shoes to dry on a large log. I ate some mixed nuts, wrote some notes, and then took a nap. When several deer walked by an hour later, I woke up gripping my walking stick like a weapon.

My shoes and socks were dry, so I got busy setting up camp. 20 minutes of collecting dry grass and old thistle stalks gave me a thick mattress. It was for comfort, but also insulation to keep me warm and dry. My plastic groundsheet went over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but

t over this, and I strung the tarp over it all. I laid out my sleeping bag to let it fluff up before night.

I laid a fire, just in case I needed it later (I didn't). I used a few pieces of bark to keep frost, snow or rain off of it, and then I ate some wild currants and rose hips, saving my corn chips for a bedtime meal. The fat from the corn chips would heat me up as it digested. Using my walking stick to lift it, I hung the bag with the rest of the food on a high branch where it would be safe from bears.

I took out my thermal underwear, hat and gloves and put them. It was almost dark. My shoes with the backpack on top of them worked as a pillow. When the wind started blowing, I lowered one side of the tarp. I was soon asleep.

The frost was heavy on the tarp in the morning, and the ice was thick on the puddles in the trail, but I had managed to sleep well enough. After packing up, I scattered the mattress materials so they wouldn't smother the plants underneath, and I ate some crackers for breakfast. The sun was just coming up as I hit the trail and started down the mountain.

By now I had probably 9 pounds total on my back. This may be very lightweight for backpacking, but I had everything I needed, including a camera. I stopped hiking long enough to take a photo of Crestone Needle, shining in the morning sun. I will be on top of it this coming summer.