My internal frame backpack is ten years old now and has been around the world and back. While accompanying me to the Boundary Waters on its first trek, it was a little ambitious and packed 2 pounds of popcorn kernels near the bottom, along with about a weeks worth of clothing and other things that are now forgotten. It has carried my belongings everywhere from Canada to Costa Rica, all around Asia (Thailand and The Philippines), across country lines in Europe and north to south in New Zealand and South Africa. It’s even spent some time with Kiell in Ecuador.
Sometimes it offers to hold more than it can handle and has scars to prove it. A couple of blue patches help to keep the poles from poking out the bottom. A strip made from old jeans covers a ripped seam on its side. It is so used to wrapping its neck flap around the sleeping mats that it is now permanently stretched. It has been carelessly tossed by the bag checkers at countless airports and squished into the underbelly of buses.
Yet, it still does its job, keeps my things together, fits on my hips and shoulders and travels along with me. Here’s to continuing on more adventures, wandering happily along with my knapsack.
Self explanatory song: