By WELDON F.
HEALD
Photographs by the Author
And yet, in all my wanderings in Arizona I have never met another back-packer. Why this simple, inexpensive and thoroughly satisfactory method of travel, so popular elsewhere, has been neglected in the Southwest is a puzzle to me. In fact, with the exception of members of the Sierra Club of California I know of no confirmed knapsackers in the entire region.
I believe that many Southwesterners are missing a stimulating and exhilarating experience. For I have found that it is only when automobiles, horses and gregarious organized parties are left behind that one feels the ultimate, breath-taking impact of this unique land. With a knapsack on my back I am on my own. I have shed the last wrappings of civilized insulation and meet the elusive personality of the desert full-face in the glaring sun of midday and under the velvet, star-filled skies.
However, this form of travel, like most everything else in life, has its drawbacks. A heavy load on a long trail can become a form of punishment akin to the self-imposed lashings of the Flagelantes. On the other hand, the packer may deprive himself of much of the pleasure of the trip by packing too light-by leaving out essential items merely for the sake of making an easy load to carry. So, back-packing resolves itself into a compromise somewhere between taking everything but the kitchen stove, and carrying nothing at all. Nobody has yet found a perfect complete adjustment between these two extremes, but through trial and error I have managed to achieve a reasonable amount of comfort and well being on short knapsack trips without staggering under an unbearable burden. My whole philosophy of knapsacking is based on the theory that any load over 25 pounds is too heavy and that I would rather carry 15 than 20. So my
