A Packing List for Life
on determining what is essential
Over the next 16 months I’ll be traveling across the US, taking a group of teens to Germany, traveling around Europe via public transport, spending a few months in Patagonia, and returning to Europe to travel via bike.
I’ll face an American summer, fall/winter in Europe, a Patagonian summer (where any weather is possible), and spring/summer/fall in Europe.
When on foot, I want to be able to comfortably carry all my luggage by foot for multiple miles if needed. When on a bike, I’d like everything to fit in a standard 2- or 4-pannier setup. When flying, I don’t want to pay exorbitant fees for checked bags.
How does one pack for this?
I’m tackling this challenge while in South Lake Tahoe, California, where I’m clearing out the 5’x5’x5’ storage unit that’s long held my camping gear, books, mementos, and business documents.
Sure, I’m excited to stop paying $45 a month—but I’m more excited for the challenge of seeing how few my possessions might become. Nine years ago, I described how I pack my life into a Subaru Forester. Now car-free for almost two years, I’m trying to cut down even more.
What doesn’t get donated in this purge will end up in four plastic bins on a friend’s property in Colorado. This all feels like a fun exercise in determining what’s “essential” for current Blake and future Blake.
I don’t fetishize minimalism to the point of traveling with a toothbrush and two changes of clothing. Being comfortable in multiple environments is important, as well as the ability to do outdoor activities and creative work.
With those priorities in mind, here’s what I consider essential:
Enjoying a week’s worth of basic clothing (t-shirts, pants, underwear, socks), so I don’t have to do laundry all the time
Walking comfortably outside in snow, rain, frigid cold, or searing heat
Having what I need to hike, swim (in a lake or pool), do a long trail run (carrying food and water), or attend a social dance
Having one pair of “nice” clothes for the many spontaneous soirées to which I’m constantly invited 💁♂️
Paper journals, Kindle, laptop, and an external backup disk (in case the laptop gets stolen or damaged)
High-quality recording equipment for conducting in-person interviews (for possible podcasting)
The ability to crush teenagers in Settlers of Catan, anywhere in the world
Which leads me here:
I don’t have an itemized packing list; you can see almost everything above. Swim stuff is in the running pack (center-left). Recording equipment is in the electronics bag. Miscellaneous bags hold electric clippers, medicine, extra toiletries, backup credit cards, and dongles. Chargers, pens, passport, and other doo-dads are not pictured.
What’s missing from this equation?
A bath towel and shampoo/soap, which I can readily find most places.
Waterproof shoes. Running shoes work 9 out of 10 times. And when they do get soaking wet… at least they dry quickly.
An umbrella. When horrific rain is on the forecast, I’ll obtain one locally.
Bicycle gear. Pump, spare tube, helmet, etc.—all these live with my bikes.1
When packed:
Both the yellow and black duffels are carry-on sized, and the backpack fits under a seat, so this setup is airplane-ready. I can carry the total weight comfortably across a city. And crucially, there is still free space for new or temporary items like paperback books, fancy-pants shoes, or an extra winter layer.
The yellow duffel, an Ortlieb “Rack-Pack,” is my new favorite piece of luggage, because it clips onto the rear panniers of a touring bicycle.
With this gear on hand, I can essentially move to a new country. I love that feeling.
I’ll still need to return to Colorado to access certain documents, mementos, and wilderness backpacking gear. But as a packing list for my current life, it works.
Maybe one day I’ll pare it down—really, truly—to what’s only on my back.
Storing a bike can be tricky, but I’ve managed so far. I currently own two bikes, each with touring gear: one in Patagonia (stored by an acquaintance), the other in Germany (in an ex’s basement). When my touring setup includes camping gear, then all of a sudden I have too much stuff; the city gear must dwell elsewhere while I’m in bike-packing mode.
Great Read. I’m currently going through a similar process while moving back into my van. Figuring out what I don’t need after being in one place for so long is a tough process. Thanks for the inspiration!
No frisbee needed?