Summit and Stream

Category: Camp

  • Best Gear for Fishing in Heavy Rain: My Top Picks

    Best Gear for Fishing in Heavy Rain: My Top Picks

    Some gear failed. Some gear thrived. And one piece surprised me completely.

    I was standing mid-stream with rain hammering my hood, fly line sagging under the weight of water, and graupel stinging my knuckles like a handful of gravel. The creek had been running low, but every fresh round of rain bumped it just enough to turn the water stained—a curse for hiking but a blessing for fishing. Each squall carried a slim chance the trout might finally look up. Fishing in those conditions is stubborn work—you’re not out there because it’s easy, you’re out there because you came to fish, and the weather doesn’t get a vote.

    That was Elk Creek. Five straight days of random downpours, sleet squalls, and miles of wet trail. Nothing stayed dry. Not boots, not packs, not me. And that’s when you find out which pieces of gear matter. Some of mine faltered. But a handful? They carried me through the storm and made the difference between misery and actually enjoying those fleeting moments when the clouds cracked and the water came alive.

    Here are the five standouts that survived the rain, the mud, and the miles.

    Top 5 Pieces of Gear

    1. Argali Talus Tarp

    The MVP of the trip. Light, quick to pitch, and bomber in the rain. With constant drizzle, it gave me a dry space to cook, re-pack, and just breathe outside the tent. No pinholes, no sagging, and no wrestling with complicated guy lines when my patience was already soaked. When you’re running low on energy, having a tarp that just works without fuss is gold.

    2. Nemo Men’s Disco 15° Sleeping Bag

    Sliding into a sleeping bag after a day in the rain can feel like crossing into another world—if that bag actually holds up. The Disco didn’t just keep me warm—it stayed warm. Even after four nights of condensation dripping inside the tent, it never lost loft, never got that clammy chill. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect it to perform this well under constant moisture. It became the one guaranteed comfort at the end of every soaked, cold day.

    3. Marsupial Gear Multi Pack

    This pack was a workhorse. Everything I needed—map, snacks, headlamp, fly fishing gear—was right there, accessible and dry. The fabric shed rain better than my pack’s lid, and the organization made it easy to keep moving instead of stopping every half mile to rummage. The attachment points on the sides held my bear spray and Garmin InReach exactly where I needed them—secure but quick to grab. In the backcountry, that kind of accessibility isn’t a bonus, it’s essential.

    4. Nitecore NB10000 Battery

    Electronics are usually the first thing to give me anxiety on long, wet trips. Dead headlamp? Dead InReach? That’s trouble. But this little ultralight battery just kept going. I charged my phone, my headlamp, and my InReach, and somehow it still had juice left at the end of the trip. At under 6 ounces, it punches way above its weight. Quiet, reliable, and one of those pieces you don’t think about until you realize how much worse the trip would’ve been without it.

    5. Chaco Ramble Puff Camo Shoes

    These started as a luxury item—something to slip on around camp. But after peeling off waterlogged boots at the end of each day, the Ramble Puffs became a necessity. Warm, cushy, and quick-drying, they were the morale boost I didn’t know I’d need. They turned “miserable camp shuffle” into “I can actually relax for a few minutes.” That mental reset was as important as the physical comfort.

    Lessons from the Storm

    Durability vs. Weight: I usually lean ultralight, but Elk Creek was a reminder—cutting ounces means nothing if your gear can’t hold up to a beating. The tarp and multi pack hit that rare sweet spot of tough and light. Small Hacks Help: Drying out soaked shoes and socks by the fire, rotating wet gear under the tarp, and keeping a designated “dry bag” of essentials were the small moves that made a big difference. Little habits like this kept the trip manageable instead of miserable.

    Final Takeaway

    Bad weather doesn’t lie. It strips your kit down to the truth. Weak gear gets exposed fast, while solid pieces quietly prove themselves. At Elk Creek, these five items pulled more than their weight and reminded me why testing gear in the worst conditions matters.

    The rain might have made fishing tough, but the gear made sure I was still in the fight.

    Now I’m curious—what piece of gear has surprised you most in the backcountry, for better or worse? Drop it in the comments.

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Backcountry Meals That Actually Taste Good — Quick Tips + Favorites from Elk Creek

    Backcountry Meals That Actually Taste Good — Quick Tips + Favorites from Elk Creek

    If you’ve done enough nights in the backcountry, you know the drill: tear open a foil pouch, add hot water, wait, and hope for the best. Most of the time you get something that’s… edible. It fills the hole, but it’s not exactly a meal you’d rave about.

    On our latest Elk Creek trip, we decided to step it up. We wanted meals that tasted good enough to look forward to after a long day on trail — or better yet, that we’d actually eat at home. With a little pre-trip planning, we pulled together a small but mighty menu that made mornings warmer, afternoons easier, and dinners something worth lingering over.

    Breakfast That Feels Like a Win

    For mornings, Peak Refuel Biscuits & Gravy was our hands-down favorite. It’s hearty without being greasy, and the gravy actually has flavor — peppery and savory instead of bland and watery. The biscuits keep their texture surprisingly well after rehydrating, so you’re not eating mush.

    We’ve found that Peak Refuel in general has some of the best freeze-dried flavor and texture out there, so we rely on them for most breakfasts and dinners. That includes post-hike comfort food like their Chicken Coconut Curry — rich, creamy, and a little spicy, it’s the perfect warm-up after a chilly day on the trail. Whether it’s Biscuits & Gravy to start the day or curry by the fire at night, they make it easy to eat well without hauling heavy ingredients.

    Coffee That Hits the Spot Every Time

    We brought Café Bustelo instant coffee packets, and honestly, I might never go back to the “specialty” backpacking coffees. Bustelo is strong, smooth, and actually tastes like coffee instead of brown water. It’s pre-measured, which makes mornings brainless — just rip, dump into your mug, and fire up the Jetboil.

    The Jetboil made coffee duty quick even on chilly Elk Creek mornings when every second outside the sleeping bag feels like a test of willpower. By the time the water boiled, the smell alone was enough to make us forget how cold it was.

    Snacks That Pull Double Duty

    For midday fuel or a quick pick-me-up before setting up camp, Honey Stinger Nut + Seed Bars were our go-to. They’re a nice change from the usual overly sweet energy bars — with a nutty, slightly salty profile and just enough honey to keep things interesting.

    Each bar packs a solid mix of protein, healthy fats, and carbs, so they actually keep you going instead of giving you a sugar spike and crash. Plus, they don’t melt or crumble in your pack, even after a long, hot day.

    Our favorite flavors from the trip: Almond Pumpkin Seed for a treat-like feel, and Oat + Honey for mornings when you want something lighter but still filling. We’d eat one mid-morning, then another later in the afternoon before our dinner prep — and between that and the Peak Refuel meals, we stayed fueled without feeling weighed down.

    A Few Backcountry Meal Tips from the Trail

    1. Pack calorie-dense food.

    Every ounce in your pack matters, but so does how many calories it gives you. Look for meals with 100+ calories per ounce to keep you fueled without adding unnecessary weight.

    2. Test meals before your trip.

    What tastes okay in your kitchen can taste totally different after a long hike — and vice versa. We try at least one serving at home before committing to bringing it on trail.

    3. Don’t skimp on seasonings.

    A tiny packet of hot sauce or a sprinkle of your favorite spice mix can make even the most basic meal taste like something special. They weigh almost nothing, and the morale boost is real.

    4. Think about cleanup.

    At the end of the day, your energy is low and daylight is short. One-pot meals or just-add-water pouches mean you spend less time scrubbing and more time resting (or watching the stars).

    5. Bring a mix of comfort food and fuel food.

    You need calories and protein, yes — but having one “fun” snack or treat each day keeps spirits high, especially on long treks.

    Bottom Line

    The right food makes the backcountry feel less like “survival mode” and more like living well in the wild. On Elk Creek, Peak Refuel for breakfast and dinner (especially that Chicken Coconut Curry), strong coffee in our mugs, nut + seed bars in our packs, and easy cleanup routines meant more time to enjoy the views, watch the river, and linger by the fire.

    Because when your meals are good, you’re not just hiking — you’re actually enjoying being out there.

    Grab the Checklist

    If you want to skip the guesswork, we put together a simple, printable Backcountry Meal Packing List with everything we brought to Elk Creek — breakfasts, coffee, snacks, dinners, and the little essentials that make camp life easier. Print it, check it off as you pack, and you’re trail-ready without overthinking it.

    backcountry_meal_packing_list.pdfDownload

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Five Days, a Fly Rod, and the South San Juan Backcountry

    Five Days, a Fly Rod, and the South San Juan Backcountry

    “When the rain comes every afternoon, and the trout still rise, you learn quick what matters and what you can leave behind.”

    There’s a certain kind of quiet you only get when you’re miles from the nearest road. It’s not just the lack of engines or voices — it’s the way the air feels unclaimed, the way your own footsteps sound out of place. For five days and four nights, my wife, my brother, and I carried everything we needed on our backs and followed a narrow ribbon of trail into the South San Juan Wilderness to fish one of its tucked-away creeks.

    This wasn’t a trophy hunt. We weren’t chasing records or numbers. We were there for the rhythm — the hiking, the camp chores, the stubborn little fish that make you earn every strike.

    Thick timber surrounded the trail until we reached the open meadows.

    The Route & the Climb

    We kept the mileage light — about 14 miles total for the whole trip — which gave us time to fish and explore without feeling like we were racing the trail. The climb out of the valley was steep in sections, but we’d stop often: sometimes to catch our breath, sometimes just because the light hit the mountains in a way that made us want to stand still and watch. By the second day, it felt like we were moving inside our own small world, our pace set by the creek and the weather instead of a clock.

    Combination of rain, graupel, and sunshine on the hike out.

    Rain, Graupel, and Unplanned Pauses

    If you spend enough time in the high country, you start to recognize the afternoon storm pattern: blue sky in the morning, clouds by lunch, rain by mid-afternoon. This trip didn’t follow the script. Rain came whenever it felt like it — a drizzle over breakfast, a sideways downpour in the middle of a promising run. Twice, the clouds even dropped graupel — tiny ice pellets that bounced off our jackets and hissed on the creek’s surface, like the mountains were flicking pebbles at us.

    We learned quickly to be opportunists: fish hard when the sky was clear, keep a rain jacket within arm’s reach, and accept that sometimes the best decision was to sit under a spruce and watch the storm burn itself out.

    One of the healthy medium sized browns during a rainstorm.

    Low Water, Spooky Fish

    This year’s creek was thin and glassy, the kind of water where your shadow alone could blow a hole in a pool. The trout were edgy — one misplaced step and the whole run would go silent. But that’s the challenge of late-summer fishing in the backcountry. We downsized our approach until it felt almost surgical: a small midge dropped under a dry, light tippet, short drifts in the soft edges of the current.

    We didn’t rack up numbers — maybe six fish between the two of us who fished — but each one was perfect in its own way. Deep orange fins. Small speckles scattered like constellations. When you know the odds are against you, even a single rise feels like a win.

    Encounters Along the Way

    Wildlife out here doesn’t always come charging into view — most of it slips in quietly if you’re paying attention. We spotted mule deer moving through the meadows in the cool mornings, a few curious marmots sunning themselves on boulders, birds of prey riding thermals overhead, and plenty of fresh elk sign. Even without seeing one, you could feel their presence in the landscape.

    A colorful sunset after a day of gray rainy skies.

    The Reward in the Work

    Backcountry trips don’t feel like vacations. They’re a mix of sore feet, damp clothes, and problem-solving on the fly. You work for everything — water, warmth, shelter — and that work changes the way you experience the place.

    For me, the best part wasn’t the fish (though they were beautiful) or the scenery (which was almost too much to take in at times). It was the shared effort. Cooking under the tarp with rain hammering above us. Trading jokes on the trail to make the climbs easier. Handing over the first cup of coffee in the morning before the day had decided what it was going to throw at us.

    That’s the thing about the South San Juan — it’ll make you work, but if you bring the right people with you, the work turns into something you’ll want to do all over again.

    Have you fished remote backcountry streams in bad weather? Did the fish change their behavior — or was it you who had to?

    Gear Notes

    • Rod, Reel & Line: 9’ 5-weight, floating line for versatility in variable conditions.

    • Leader/Tippet: 9’ 5x leader with 6x fluorocarbon for the dropper to keep drifts subtle.

    • Flies: #20–22 midges under a #14–16 dry (Parachute Adams or small Stimulator). The dry-dropper rig kept the presentation natural and gave us a visual on subtle takes.

    • Rain Gear: Lightweight shell that stayed in the top of the pack for quick grabs — essential for those graupel blasts.

    • Camp Essentials: Compact stove, Lightweight Bivy Tent, Backpacking Tarp for cooking during storms/gear tent, and a good water filter (even the clearest creeks can hide trouble).

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.