Backpacking With Beer: A Primer
Photo by Graham AverillThere are many reasons why civilized folk seek out the backcountry. Many are obsessed with the ultra-light challenge, others seek the Zen-like serenity of the outdoors. Some go in search of game, while others are, in some sense, hunting for our true selves. At the very least, we’re looking to have some fun. The only thing that sucks about the backcountry? There’s no beer. Which means you’re going to have to bring your own. Because there is nothing better standing on the precipice of a mountain overlooking a lush valley after hiking seven miles deep into the wilderness, and cracking a cold beer.
Here are my guidelines for bringing beer into the backcountry.
Pack Cans
This is a no brainer and I shouldn’t even have to say it. Some might argue that canned beer is somehow inferior to bottled beer, but I’d counter that today’s cans don’t hurt the flavor. And sure, you’re not getting the full nose of the beer from the can, but you’re in the backcountry so take a deep breath and smell Mother Nature instead. Additionally, the backpacking class should be used to sacrificing flavor. Suck it up. This isn’t a resort. Aluminum is lighter than glass (nobody is humping a 22oz bottle anywhere). Lastly, you can crush them, saving volume in the pack-out phase. One of my favorite local pubs will make you a 32 oz. ‘Crowler’ on site, the empty of which seems like it could double as a bear-bin in a pinch.
Choose High ABV
If you really wanted a buzz, obviously you should have brought some 100-proof bourbon in a plastic, collapsible flask. Still, we like our beer with a kick, and figuring out which beer offers a better ABV per weight ratio will always be a consideration when backpacking. I suggest you find brews above 7% ABV, and look for words like “Imperial” and “double,” which imply more punch per ounce.
Pack Dark Beers
This one is up for debate and a lot of people will disagree with me. Even I will admit that my preferences can vary quite a bit depending on climate. That said, I prefer darker beers in the woods for a variety of reasons. First, no matter what the climate, you’ll be unable to control the temperature of your beer; you want something that tastes good whether it’s ice cold or room temperature. Beer contains B vitamins and it’s rumored that darker beers, with heavy malt content, tend to have more than most. That means it’s not pure ‘fun’ weight, but it has (nominal) nutritional value…if you need to justify it. Most importantly, I find that these hefty, robust ales seem to pair well with the mountain environment, especially if it is cold.
I followed my own advice last fall, heading into the Montana backcountry in search of elk with a well-qualified friend of mine. The top pouch of my ruck was heavy, loaded with two pints of Cold Smoke Scotch Ale, a smoky-smooth and slightly sweet staple from Kettle House Brewing in Missoula, Montana, and two twelve packs of the creamy, rich Plumb St. Porter from Bozeman’s Bozeman Brewing. Picking my way under brush and over logs in the hour before dawn, I did not feel the extra weight. My mind was sharp, looking for signs and following the quiet route of my guide. We tracked in silence, arguing via hand-signs and working our way around the low side of a thickly wooded bowl. After a fork in the creek, we moved upstream. Underbrush gave way to spaced timber and the trails kept zig-zagging for altitude. My boots rarely found solid footing, so I slid down several inches for every step. It was tough climbing, but never did I second guess my decision to take those few extra beer pounds. The thought of them fueled me. By the time we reached the top, orange was starting to leak in to the sky and the clear blue was turning to ash and we were essentially out of water.
The nearest creek was several hundred feet straight down the side of a mountain. Nobody had the energy to tackle that distance, so we cracked open the beer, which is 93% water, anyway. The first sip from the can was incredible. Those beers were as much about nutrition as they were about luxury, breathing life in to what could have been a dismal campfire. We awoke early the next day, did our obligatory stand-to at a likely feeding ground, and made a search of water. Late that morning, we found some, and I had the second best drink I’ve ever tasted.