You've still got time to sneak in one last summer trip (Photo: Ippei Naoi / Moment via Getty)
The leaves aren’t dropping yet. But it’s August, and that means that the end of summer is in sight. If you’re anything like me, you started the season with big goals and you still have a laundry list of them to do before fall arrives.
“But Adam,” some of you are saying, “I can’t wait for fall!” To that, I reply: “buT AdAM, i cAn’t WAIt fOr fALL!” That is how you all sound to me. Go French kiss last year’s jack-o’-lantern or rearrange your sweater collection or whatever you Autumn People do between the solstice and Labor Day.
No, this one is for the summer folks—the people who glory in long, sunny days, T-shirt weather, and time on the water. We’ve got just over two weeks weeks left until Labor Day, and that’s enough time to squeeze in the last few adventures and gird our loins for the cooler weather ahead. Make the most of it by checking off these last seven seasonal tasks.
Whether it’s in the alpine or in another country, we’re willing to bet that there’s a hike you were dreaming about doing this summer that you haven’t gotten around to yet. Well, it’s last call: Time to get it done or wait until next year. Grab a friend, make your plans, pack your bags, book that last-minute ticket, and go.
Don’t have the vacation you need? Pro tip: Lie. Tell your boss that your rich, long-lost aunt died, and her will stipulates that to inherit her fortune you need to spend the night in a haunted Glacier National Park campsite. Inform them that you’ve been diagnosed with Snake River lungvirus and your doctor has ordered you to spend a week convalescing far away from all sources of electromagnetic radiation, such as cell phones or laptops. It’s 2025; none of us have the social skills to challenge each other on this stuff anymore.
Some people will tell you that they wash their shells regularly. Ten percent of those people are employees of The North Face, and the rest are fibbing. We all know that we should be cleaning off our outerwear at least once or twice per season to remove wear-causing grit, refresh the waterproofing, and clear out the pores of the waterproof-breathable membrane, but relatively few of us do. Do it before the snow hits and you need that shell: With Amelia Arvesen’s helpful guide, you really have no more excuse.
I have spent all summer digging through piles of wool baselayers looking for my T-shirts. Don’t be like me: If a piece of clothing isn’t appropriate for the season, store it. If you’re lucky enough to have a garage loft, basement, or shed, pack up anything you don’t expect to need in waterproof containers (it never hurts to have a spare pair of shorts or two handy for those warm spells) and kiss it goodnight for the season. Apartment dweller? This is a great use case for under-bed storage boxes.
I carry a headlamp all summer long, but with the sun setting around 9 and back up again by around 6, it’s the rare day that I actually use it. (Lame? Perhaps, but I am a 36-year-old dad, not a vampire.) Post-equinox, that all changes: All of a sudden, my dawn patrols are a whole lot dawnier, and my after-work hikes finish (and often start) in the dark. If you’re in the same boat as me, do yourself a favor now and check your headlamps’ batteries: If you’re using disposable, change them out, and if you’re using rechargeables, juice ‘em and make sure they can hold a charge.
All right, so I know I spent the intro to this piece slagging off fall people, but there are some parts of autumn I agree rule. Taking in the changing leaves from some remote trail or the top of a peak with 360-degree views of the action below is one of those. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who thinks so: Trying to get a last-minute permit or a prime campsite for the height of the fireworks is a longshot. Preempt the crowds by locking in your plans now, or at least setting a calendar alert so you can be first in line when those coveted reservations do open.
I am terrible at making campfires. Given that most of the Mountain West either restricts or outright prohibits blazes during fire season, I think that’s understandable—I don’t get much practice. But if you’re the most experienced backpacker in your group, once fall rolls around and the temperatures drop, everyone is looking at you to get the party started. It’s never a bad idea to find a safe spot and brush up. When you have to do it for real, you’ll have that log cabin blazing before the rest of the crew finds their marshmallow sticks.
Can I be uncharacteristically philosophical for a second? We humans only get so many summers, a fact that I’m more aware of as more time passes. So make some time to soak this one in. Go find a mountain meadow somewhere and watch the clouds; jump in a backcountry lake until goosebumps prickle your skin; take a long, lazy walk through the woods in the afternoon and watch the butterflies flutter through the sunbeams. Yes, the dog days of summer can be humid and broiling, but don’t call it yet: There’s still a lot to enjoy.