Backpacking with a teenage boy is a different undertaking from car camping with a child. He can carry real weight and cover real distance, and he wants to. He also has a teenager’s judgment about pacing, water, and his own limits, which is to say very little. The father’s job is to set the trip up so that the boy is tested and not broken, does the work himself, and ends the last day asking about the next one.
What follows is the practical side, drawn from Meriwether Academy’s father-son trips and a good deal of trial and error. For where to go around Nashville, see our guide to father-son camping near Nashville.
How far
For a boy’s first backpacking trip, four to six miles a day with a loaded pack is plenty, whatever his age. Our own Father and Son Hike and Camp at Montgomery Bell covers 4.7 miles on the way in, and we open it to boys as young as eight. An experienced fourteen-year-old in good condition can handle eight to twelve miles on gentle terrain. Beyond that, most teenagers are surviving rather than enjoying, and the point of the first few trips is enjoyment with an edge of difficulty, not survival.
Plan mileage by the weakest member of the party, count elevation as distance, and leave time to arrive at camp with daylight and energy to spare. The best part of the trip happens after the packs come off.
How much weight
A common rule of thumb is that a loaded pack should not exceed roughly a fifth of the carrier’s body weight, and for a first trip or a smaller boy, less is better. On our trips the packs run about 25 pounds, which suits most boys from about eight up. A hundred-pound thirteen-year-old should not be carrying much more than twenty; a strong sixteen-year-old can take thirty or a bit more if the terrain allows.
Weigh the packs at home, on a bathroom scale, before you leave. Boys will not tell you their pack is too heavy until it is far too late.
What to let him carry
Everything of his own, plus one thing the group depends on. His own sleeping bag, pad, clothes, water, and a share of the food go in his pack. Then give him something that matters to everyone: the cook pot, the stove, the tent body, the water filter. A boy who carries only his own gear is a passenger with luggage. A boy who carries the stove is a member of the expedition, and he will guard it accordingly.
Do not carry his weight when he flags. Shift a little if you must, but let him feel the load. That feeling is most of the lesson.
Gear that actually matters
Boots that fit and are broken in. More trips are ruined by blisters than by anything else. Have him wear the boots for a week before the trip, and carry tape and moleskin.
A pack that fits his torso. A borrowed adult pack on a small frame will hurt from the first mile. Youth and small-adult packs exist for a reason.
A sleeping pad. Cold comes from the ground, and a boy who sleeps badly the first night is miserable the second day.
Rain gear, always, whatever the forecast says. Middle Tennessee weather changes its mind.
A headlamp of his own, a knife of his own, and a whistle. Owning these things is part of growing up.
Skip the gadgets. A boy does not need a solar charger, a camp chair, or three changes of clothes. The lighter the pack, the better the trip.
Water and food
Let him be responsible for water. Teach him to filter or treat it, then make him do it for both of you. There is no better way to make a boy take a skill seriously than to have his father drink the result.
Food should be simple, plentiful, and cooked by the boy. Boys eat a great deal on the trail, and a hungry teenager is a sullen one. Bring more than you think you need, and put the boy in charge of the menu the second time out.
Running the trip
Give him the map. Teach him to read it, then let him navigate, and let him make small mistakes. An extra half mile because he misread a junction is a cheap lesson. Do not let him make large ones.
Set camp early, and let him build it. Tent, fire, water, food, bear hang or food storage: these are the skills, and they are only learned by doing.
Save the talk for the fire. The trail is for walking; the evening is when boys open up. Our trips end each day with conversation about courage and character, and fathers on their own can do the same.
Debrief on the drive home. What went well, what went wrong, what he would do differently. Then plan the next one before the memory fades.
Going with a group
For fathers who want the first trip handled by people who have done it many times, Meriwether’s father-son hikes and overnight canoe voyages are listed on our events page as dates are set. The gear list is short, the meals are provided, and the boys do the work. For the reasoning behind all of this, see “What Is Wilderness Education?“
