If you have the gear and the goodies, the context and the companion, there’s no reason that every lunch in the woods shouldn’t be a full delight.
This was up on the Tinker Mountain ridgeline, along the Appalachian Trail, looking down on Roanoke, Virginia’s pretty Carvins Cove reservoir far below.
The little tarp I carry in my daypack had not been used—or even looked at—for several years.
But here came the raindrops just after we’d stopped for lunch. The Greatest Day Hiker Of Them All appreciated the free comedy enough to get a few photographs.
But hey, clunky, off-kilter tarp pitch notwithstanding, we had our usual great lunch. With a great view, a perfect salad, cold wine, something crunchy and the pièce de résitance of my lunch, dark-chocolate covered blueberries!
Not to mention the wonderful companionship of The Day Hiker and the fact that we were outside, on a mountaintop, on a nice, if showery fall day.
And it’s not just the fall days that work. We’ve learned the proverbial hard way over 15 years of day hikes every weekend, that if you’re prepared for the elements—at least to the extent those elements present themselves here in the Southern Appalachians—you’re good to go.
But winter? Snow and ice?
Well, as in every other season, it’s all about the equipment. And most importantly, the layers. And the colder it gets, the more layers. And the harder you hike, the more the necessity to pack a whole ‘nother set of layers, because when you stop for lunch—pretty much no matter the temperature—at least your back is gonna be sweaty from sitting there under that pack.
And if you don’t brave the cold long enough to remove those damp layers and put on new ones, you’re gonna freeze.
Waterproof hiking boots are another must.
Point is, it’s all about what’s in the pack and what’s in your head. We’ve sat down to windchills around zero (did I mention layers, plus a really good outer layer?), to drilling rain (simple: make your lunch destination a shelter), to snow (a shelter or, you know, cheat a little and build your walk around a stop at Peaks of Otter Lodge or some such), to full-summer heat (scout along the ridgeline for the spot that provides max shade and max breeze).
Conditions vary. If you’re as lucky as I am, the keys for a great lunch, built around your favorite companion and the comforts of a pack well-stocked, do not.
END OF PREVIEW
The story above appears in our March/April 2019 issue.
