THE TREKKING UMBRELLA: A LOVE STORY (WITH TANTRUMS)
I love an ultralight trekking umbrella. I have carried one far longer than the current trend, having paid a hefty price years ago for one of the original Norwegian-made beauties, complete with a carbon frame and what I can only describe as space-age fabric. It was the most extravagant nonessential piece of gear I owned at the time, and I promptly neglected to experiment with it for years. That was a mistake. When I finally started using it, I realized there was a learning curve no one warned me about.
WHY CARRY ONE IN THE FIRST PLACE
The obvious answer is rain, but the trekking umbrella is far more versatile than most hikers realize. During my seasons as a Ridgerunner on the Appalachian Trail in the Smokies, I often carried one when rain was certain, and it became an unexpectedly essential part of my job. Having a conversation with a hiker in a downpour is unpleasant enough. Having to fill out a field-issued backcountry permit in a downpour is a special kind of misery. My umbrella turned those encounters into something almost civilized.
Beyond that, it felt like my duty to carry as much emergency shelter as possible in the backcountry. A trekking umbrella is an extra layer of protection you hope you never need but are deeply grateful to have.
And then there’s the sun. Most trekking umbrellas, mine included, have a shiny silver reflective coating on the outer canopy that is excellent for shade in open areas… before the leaves have come in during spring, on exposed ridges, or anywhere the sun has decided to make your life unreasonably warm. (Provided there isn’t a lot of wind.)
There were also plenty of times I was simply grateful to have a more pleasant space to enjoy a snack on trail during the rain. Sitting under your own tiny roof, eating a granola bar while the world pours around you, is one of hiking’s most underrated small pleasures.
THE LEARNING CURVE NO ONE TALKS ABOUT
The hands-free, rigged-to-your-backpack-shoulder-straps configuration nearly broke me.
I had full-on temper tantrums in the beginning trying to get that umbrella into the proper position. I am not exaggerating. There may have been words spoken aloud on trail that I will not repeat here.
When it felt relevant, I would tuck my trusty umbrella underneath the side straps of my pack for quick access. And in my hip belt pocket could be found a not-so-small bag of various attachment implements… Velcro straps, cords and cord locks, assorted rigging contraptions, and whatever the latest and greatest way to connect a trekking umbrella happened to be that season. I tried them all.
The problem is this. When you finally get it secured to your shoulder straps, it either tilts forward and covers your eyes to the point of being genuinely dangerous, or it leans so far back that it doesn’t even cover your head at all. There is a razor-thin sweet spot between “I can’t see the trail” and “I’m getting completely soaked anyway,” and finding it requires the patience of a saint and the engineering instincts of someone far more mechanically inclined than I am.
But eventually… eventually… I found a system that worked. And settling into a rhythm in the rain with my own little shelter moving alongside me? What a gift. Walking in the rain without getting drenched, hands free, fully present to the sound of rain hitting the canopy above while the trail stretches out ahead of you. It is genuinely magical.
And then… the inevitable occurs. I have to pee.
Do I risk ripping the bejesus out of this delicate, very expensive, specialized fabric by wrestling out of my pack? Or do I carefully undo every single strap and attachment I just spent twenty frustrating minutes perfecting? There were times, I am not proud to admit, when I simply suffered rather than dismantle my hard-won configuration.
Such is the conundrum of the trekking umbrella.
AN UNEXPECTED BENEFIT
And finally, there is one more reason to carry a trekking umbrella that has nothing to do with weather. It can help you feel safer during wildlife encounters. Black bears are curious creatures, and while they are rarely aggressive, a big, shiny, reflective umbrella opened suddenly makes you look larger and, more importantly, completely unrecognizable. It is an excellent and very lightweight deterrent for unwanted attention when encounters happen.
So yes. A trekking umbrella will frustrate you, humble you, and occasionally make you question your life choices on trail. But once you find your system, once you settle into the rhythm of walking in the rain under your own portable sky… you will never want to hike without one.
Just make sure you use the restroom before you rig it up!
