What’s in My Hiking Bag: A Glimpse into Organized Chaos

Hiking Essentials (That I Absolutely Don’t Pack): A Brutally Honest Breakdown

What’s the secret to surviving this beautiful torture we call hiking?

It’s all in the bag—literally.

Well… that’s the plan, anyway.

Here’s what I THINK I need for a hike vs. what I actually bring.

1. The Water Bottle: My One Functional Trait

Expectation: A sleek, reusable bottle filled with crisp, refreshing hydration. The kind fitness influencers hold while doing yoga at sunrise.

Reality: A sad, half-empty plastic bottle rescued from the car boot, that’s hotter than the sun by the time they drink it.

Me: I actually nail this one. I bring homemade electrolyte mix because hydration is my hill to die on (hopefully not literally). .

2. Phone Charger or Power Bank

Expectation: Fully charged phone ready for trail selfies and GPS magic.

Reality: 30% battery and no signal - but hey, “disconnecting from civilization” sounds intentional, right?

Me: Nope. Fully charged phone, backup battery, and probably a solar charger. Honestly, this is more important than water. If I’m hydrated but can’t scroll through photos later—what’s even the point?

Two wins in a row. From here on… buckle up.

3. Hiking Snacks (aka Motivation)

Expectation: A beautiful selection of energy-boosting trail mix, protein bars, almonds and cranberries.

Me: Snacks? Why?? This isn’t a road trip. Munching means less hiking... on a hike... why??

4. Maps and Navigation: The Illusion of Control

Expectation: A laminated, color-coded map with scenic notes.

Me: A crumpled scrap of paper that looks like it survived a washing machine.

And yes, I downloaded AllTrails. No, I have no idea how it works.

My navigation system? Follow whoever looks the most confident and hope they’re not lost too.

Since I skipped snacks, getting lost isn’t an option.

5. First Aid Kit

Expectation: : Compact, organized, and ready for any disaster—band-aids, antiseptic wipes, maybe even anti-venom. Basically Bear Grylls, but hopefully with less body hair.

Me: Reality: One lonely band-aid stuck to an old gum wrapper and a single antihistamine from 2019.

If disaster strikes, I’ll offer emotional support and sarcasm. You’ll be fine.

Probably.

I got you..

6. Insect Repellent

Expectation: Organic, lavender-scented bug spray that keeps you bite-free.

Me: Nada. I’d love to claim it’s because I’m not bothered by a few bugs, but I’m more scared of the chemicals than the mosquitoes. So I end up slapping at the air like I’m auditioning for interpretive dance.

7. Extra Layer of Clothing

Expectation: Lightweight, packable jacket—stylish, practical, perfect for any weather shift.

Me: : That jacket died on a previous hike. Now it’s a choice between overheating in a hoodie or tying it around my waist like a 1987 fashion victim.

8. Headlamp or Flashlight

Expectation: Compact headlamp for post-sunset emergencies

Me: I rely on my phone flashlight and blind optimism that I’ll make it back before dark. Because —I STILL HAVE NO FOOD.

9. The Essential Hat

Expectation: A sleek, designer cap that sits perfectly atop my luscious curls. Perfect for that dramatic summit hair flip moment.

Me: I rotate between a beanie, visor, or cap depending on how frizzy my two surviving hairs decide to be. It’s less about fashion, more about public safety.

Oh, and sunblock?

I know. I should. But it feels like coating my skin in regret, so I skip it. My face already has the texture of a vintage leather handbag. It’s too late for me.

Save yourselves.

So there you have it—the unpredictable disaster that is my hiking bag.

If you’re the type who packs with neatly labeled Ziplocs and SPF 50, congratulations. You win hiking.

For the rest of us? We’ll continue sweating, swatting, and pretending we know where north is.

Now your turn: what’s in your hiking bag, genius?