Why Trips Matter

Written by: George Bull

Up to my knees in crusty snow, my feet are cold, my pack is heavy, and there’s still more elevation to gain. A trip leader is ahead kicking steps for their line of campers to follow. Even so, progress is slow.

This scene could describe the first day of almost any early-season TVRC backpack, but this time, I’m describing my very first one. The year was 2010, and I was an 11-year-old yearling in cabin Paintbrush. Frustrated, exhausted, and uncomfortable, I was too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to realize that this snowy ascent would become not only my most vivid memory of that summer, but also the moment I began to fall in love with backpacking.

When you think about backcountry trips—or rather, why we do them—you might picture a spectacular summit sunrise, majestic wildlife, or smiling faces on a well-groomed trail. And while those “highs” are certainly a wonderful part of the experience, they aren’t why we do it. They aren’t where the real magic happens.

The logical next sentence should start with something like, “The real magic is _______.” And you’d think, after leading nearly twenty TVRC backpacks over my four seasons on staff, I’d have no problem finishing that sentence. But here I am, struggling to explain what exactly creates that addictive mix of joy, fatigue, and pride we all—campers and staff alike—feel so deeply after a backpack.

You feel it when you lace up those soaked, freezing boots and start hiking. After you crest a pass high in the Tetons, only to immediately drop down into the tree line to shelter from an oncoming storm. After you fall back to support a friend struggling on the uphill. After you spend an entire afternoon bushwhacking through 10-foot-tall willows just to reach your campsite.

You can find it in the little moments: the water break humor, the trivia to decide who gets seconds first at dinner, the rare rock fruit discovery, and the on-trail conversations that can’t happen anywhere else. It’s when you keep going, even when you don’t want to. Laughing, crying, and laughing so hard that you cry. Realizing that you can do hard things—one of many lessons of grit, teamwork, and friendship learned on a trip that will stick with you far into the future.

Then, after dinner, you zip up your sleeping bag and laugh with your tent mates as you recount the day’s antics. A day you’ll have just as much fun talking about years later.

The real magic is that blend of challenge, discomfort, and earned accomplishment—things so rare in our daily lives. It’s the opportunity to work hard and succeed, or fail, and to learn to embrace both outcomes.

Keep crushing it,

George Bull, TVRC Camper and Staff Alum