Naps

Naps. I never go anywhere without them.

Never needed a scientific study to tell me that naps work for whatever ails you.

Need a creative solution? Take a nap.

They can’t be beat for sheer strategic reboot value. They civilize all travel, not just adventure travel. 

What’s glamping without napping? 

When you wake up from a nap in the backcountry, something magical happens to the landscape. It looks different, it feels different, it smells different. Naps shift your perspective. 

Which is what makes them critical portable equipment.  

But as with love and epics, you have to equip yourself with the skill to nap well.

Develop your eye for a first class napping opportunity

I think I first aspired to world class achievement on the Appalachian Trail. My traveling companion was a Flat-Coated retriever. After seven months on the trail, sleeping together in my tent every night, I had become more like a dog while Ben had become more like a person. I taught him not to slurp his soup. He taught me to nap. What a pro.

The number of people who tell me, “I can’t take naps,” only proves that napping, like most things, takes diligence and practice. I’m still working towards my 10,000 hours.

Everyone has a different nap rhythm. Time of day, duration of nap, depth of sleep, ideal or even necessary environmental conditions. You’ll have to find your own sweet spot. 

Thru-hiker nap

In my twenties I learned from my best friend, a former cavalry officer, the time-honored rule taught at Sandhurst: “Sleep is a Phase of War.” Adventure napping is the peacenik version, where you exercise control over your mind and body to demand rest, healing and a change of tempo when you know you need it most. 

So get out there and keep improving your skills and honing your technique. You’ll soon find that, like most Epicurean delights, naps get even better when you do them with another person.

Well deserved nap