La guida definitiva al fast packing

Posted on November 15th, 2022

Words & Photos: Filippo Canetta

How to organize a mountain adventure: the best gear, route planning, nutrition.

The basic concept behind fastpacking, or speed hiking, is exactly that, moving quickly to cover more distance in less time. To do that, you need a light backpack, it sounds simple, but it isn't.

In August 2021, taking advantage of a few days without my family around, I decided to fill up my backpack and go visit some friends on the other side of the Alps, without using a car, entirely under my own power.

After 15 years of ultra trail racing, I needed some slowness, to cover kilometers without rushing, taking my time to look around and savor every moment of the experience.

Six days isn't much for a vacation, but it's enough for a mountain adventure covered entirely on foot.

This is what I learned, mostly from my mistakes, over those 250 kilometers and 10,000 m of elevation gain.

I set off from the Engadin, headed to the Orobie Alps and the Rifugio Brunone, then back to the Engadin. Since I wasn't sure I'd find room in the huts, given the pandemic restrictions, I brought along a mini tent and a lightweight sleeping bag.

I only had a 55-liter backpack available, quite large and bulky, comfortable for heavy loads but not exactly practical for running the flat stretches and descents. I should have opted for a lighter, high-waisted backpack, but I didn't have one with me. As has been the case for a few years now, temperatures were very high, and more than gear, what really matters is always having a good supply of water on hand. In the mountains, water is almost never an issue, but not knowing the possible refill points along the way, I traveled with about a liter of water most of the time, enough for at least three hours of walking. I also carried a decent food supply, which I supplemented by stopping to eat or buying along the way.

Since I was moving at a slow pace, my caloric burn came mostly from fat rather than carbohydrates, unlike what happens when you're running. My food supply, as I'd learned at the Marathon des Sables, consisted mainly of high calorie-to-weight ratio products, based on fats and proteins: nuts, dried fruit, dried meat, Parmesan, and a few bars. Foods rich in salts, to make up for the lack of them in mountain water. After a few experiments, my favorite mix turned out to be, without a doubt: beef jerky, dried papaya and cashews.

The first night I slept outdoors without pitching the tent, the mild weather, the clothing I had with me, and the sleeping bag were enough to sleep under a canopy of stars, lying on a bench near an uninhabited mountain hut. On the second day, after reaching the Bernina Pass (2,235 m) and eating two slices of cake in Cavaglia along the Via Valtellina, I tried not to descend too much toward Poschiavo, instead crossing the border between Switzerland and Italy at Passo d'Ur (2,495 m) and continuing on to Passo di Camagneda (2,628 m).

The border area turned out to be wonderfully wild, high-mountain scenery where I didn't run into a single soul all afternoon.

Uphill, with the load on my back, I was moving very slowly. The descent at sunset, jogging down toward Valmalenco, felt like a release, and I managed to reach Rifugio Cristina in Pratobello, Valmalenco, in time for dinner, where I got to shower and eat comfortably.

The next morning, after climbing up to Passo degli Ometti (2,767 m), I couldn't resist, I left my backpack behind a rock and climbed up Pizzo Scalino (3,323 m). I quickly realized that to make up for this unplanned detour I'd have to run the entire descent toward Sondrio, but the opportunity was too tempting, and the idea of climbing light, without the backpack, too appealing to pass up.

I made my way through the entire Val di Togno on now-abandoned trails, looking for a hut or shelter for when I'd pass back through in a few days. Unfortunately, Rifugio Bruno De Dosso was closed, and Rifugio Val di Togno had been bought by a Belgian family who were renovating it. The alpine huts I came across were very dirty, with poor sanitary conditions. Worried about not finding a place to sleep during the return leg, I feared I might have to change my plans. With perfect timing, I arrived in Sondrio at 1:30 pm, it was 35°C, and I was running at least an hour behind schedule. I made a quick stop at an air-conditioned bar to eat a sandwich and stock up on liquids. More than 20 km and 2,500 m of elevation gain still separated me from Passo della Scaletta, above Rifugio Brunone.

The climb up the opposite side of the valley was exhausting, it was very hot, and the gradient made running impossible, all I could do was limit my stops to avoid falling further behind schedule, and walk as fast as I could.

The route I'd planned followed the Val Caronno, passing by Lago di Scais, along the path built to service the hydroelectric plant fed by the lake. Finally, helped along by higher altitude and a few tunnels, the temperature became more bearable, and I started running again.

I realized I was running slower than planned, and that if I kept this up I'd have to switch to plan B, which meant stopping only one night at Brunone and finding a spot somewhere in between to sleep the following day. Meanwhile, trying to figure out a way to break up this long leg on the way back, I called a couple of B&Bs to ask if they had any rooms two days out, but everything was booked solid during the mid-August holiday week, so, nearly desperate, I called the number for Rifugio Mambretti. The man in charge of the CAI mountain huts in Valtellina picked up, and, sounding genuinely sorry, explained that all the huts were clean and ready, but a local ordinance was forbidding him from opening them.

Usually, when I'm running and see the time estimates on CAI trail signs, I know I'll take half the stated time uphill and a third downhill. This time, though, I was taking almost the exact same amount of time, and when, around 4 pm, I saw a sign indicating 4 hours 30 minutes to Passo della Scaletta, I realized I was running seriously late. After a short stop to take my backpack off and eat something, I tackled the toughest part of the climb. I was definitely going to arrive after 8 pm, maybe 9. I'd nearly run out of water, and the heat had worn me down. I was no longer sure of my calculations, and I was anxious to let my friends at the hut know, but my phone had no signal. I kept my head down, focusing on my pace rather than the route ahead, telling myself I knew the way anyway, since we often come up to the Baita di Caronno to pick up cheese for the hut. Sure enough, fatigue and haste got the better of me, and I ended up taking the wrong "trail."

You reach Passo della Scaletta (2,530 m) by crossing a scree field that funnels into a narrow valley, where the via ferrata begins. Only trouble is, snowmelt inevitably shifts the loose rocks, along with the few trail markers there are, and the route doesn't get enough traffic to leave clear signs of passage. When I ended up having to throw my backpack over a rock just to climb up, I came to my senses and realized that the second route I'd wandered into wasn't the right one either. Fairly worn out by this point, I headed for the third and final valley, further to the right, where I finally found the via ferrata. I didn't remember it as being particularly demanding, even carrying 20 kg of cheese on my back before, but this time it felt extremely tough. On some sections, on the iron rungs, my legs were shaking, and I had to haul myself up by sheer arm strength.

When I saw the sky brightening above me, I knew I was close, and the descent toward Brunone was all that was left. Getting past the pass felt like a release, dusk was setting in, and I tried to run while being careful not to get thrown off balance by the backpack, which kept pulling in the opposite direction from where I was headed. Finally I saw the hut's lights. Arriving at a mountain hut always feels good. You get that sense of being safe, like when a boat, after crossing rough seas, finally reaches the calm waters of the harbor. But arriving to friends who are waiting for you makes it even better. Recounting my misadventures, I ate dinner with Marco, the hut's longtime manager, and the friends who'd just finished serving the guests. After dinner, we lay back on a rock and enjoyed the summer starry sky, and I finally let myself relax.

The next day, my friend Roberto and Marco wanted to climb up to Redorta (3,039 m). I had to decide whether to set off again or join them. I called Rifugio Cristina, and thankfully they confirmed they could put me up in a small cabin near the hut. I knew the return leg would be just as tough, but even so, I decided to take a "rest" day and climb with them at dawn. The day was magnificent, and from the peak you could see practically the entire Orobie range.

The next day, with a bit of regret, I said goodbye to my friends and set off again in the opposite direction. Passo della Scaletta, even going downhill with the heavy backpack, turned out to be no easy feat, but at least I was still fresh. I ran as much as I could to avoid reaching the valley floor in the heat, but despite my efforts, the climb back up the opposite side of Valtellina, with the sun beating down, made itself felt. To avoid retracing the same route I'd taken on the way there, I tried following a mid-elevation trail along the right side of Valmalenco. Though it was marked on the maps, some stretches were clearly disused, and I had to take off my backpack to squeeze through gaps in the brambles made by wild boar, with nettles reaching up to my thighs.

After no shortage of curses, I managed to fight my way out, and near a few abandoned houses I found a fountain, where I stopped to cool off. Here too, I lost time against my schedule. There was still a long way to go, all uphill until Pratobello. I allowed myself a small detour down to the village below for an ice cream, I absolutely wanted a wrapped, store-bought ice cream! I found my long-craved ice cream only to realize the bar was right at the end of the valley-floor trail, basically, I'd climbed up specifically to avoid it, and ended up there anyway. I stocked up on junk food and set off again without wasting any more time. The trail climbs almost vertically, and I was moving slowly.

By the time I reached altitude, the view over Valmalenco was stunning, and the evening magical. I wasn't sure I'd be able to shower at the hut, so shortly before arriving I washed up at a fountain using our solid soap, made from 100% natural plant-based ingredients. Once I got there, I made a beeline for the table, and only after filling my by-then-empty stomach did I head back out to snap a couple of photos of the mountains at sunset.

On the fifth day, wanting to avoid retracing the exact same route from the way there, I chose to cross the Italian-Swiss border via Passo del Confinale (2,626 m), the view of the Bernina was magnificent, even though the glacier is now in very poor condition.

This route turned out to be more enjoyable, and maybe even shorter than the one I'd taken a few days earlier. I descended back toward Poschiavo, then climbed back up to the Bernina Pass, where I got caught in quite the storm, which cooled me off nicely. After stashing my poles to avoid attracting lightning, I bundled up with wind pants, a long sleeve tee and a rain jacket. During a high-altitude storm, temperature can drop as much as ten degrees in just a few minutes.

About twenty kilometers still separated me from my destination, but since they were all gently downhill, I ran nearly all of them, despite the backpack leaving bruises and chafing on my back. I didn't want to run late, since the next day I had to get back to Milan by bike.

Throughout the trip, I got to test the new ZION shorts, lightweight and extremely comfortable.

GEAR

Based on the experience gained, in our opinion, the best gear in terms of performance/weight ratio is the following:

• 1 pair of low-cut, lightweight, cushioned trail running shoes with good grip, probably the most suitable model remains the Hoka Mafate Speed, 295 gr.
• 1 backpack, 25-35 liters, with front bottle holders, such as:
  Ultimate Direction Fastpack 30, 690 gr.
  Salomon XA35, 540 gr.
  Black Diamond Distance 22, 412 gr.
• 3 x 500 ml Soft Flasks, 3x38 gr.
• 1 insulated hooded jacket, Patagonia Micro Puff Hoody, 298 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee Lava Windbreaker Jacket, 93 gr.
• 2 Wild Tee T-Shirts, 2x105 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee Long Sleeve Tee, 125 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee Neck Gaiter, 30 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee Endurance Cap, 25 gr.
• 1 pair of Wild Tee Shorts, 220 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee Midlayer, 160 gr.
• 1 pair of Wild Tee Joggers, 240 gr.
• 1 Gore-Tex hooded jacket, Arc'teryx Norvan LT Hoodie, 190 gr.
• 1 pair of Salomon Bonatti Waterproof wind pants, 123 gr.
• 1 pair of Wild Tee Gloves, 40 gr.
• 2 pairs of Wild Tee Rockies Socks, 2x35 gr.
• 1 pair of insoles, 15 gr.
• 1 Wild Tee organic cotton T-shirt, 120 gr.
• 1 pair of underwear, 35 gr.
• 1 sheet and 1 pillowcase, or 1 sleeping bag liner, these can often be rented at almost any mountain hut for around €3-5 (check ahead of time). Decathlon MT500 Silk Sleeping Bag Liner, 110 gr.
• 1 lightweight towel, 50 gr.
• 1 toothbrush, small toothpaste, earplugs and Wild Tee solid shampoo, 100 gr.
• 1 Exceed 5-liter waterproof bag, Fold Drybag UL, 20 gr.
• 1 USB charger with cables for phone and GPS, 20 gr.
• 1 power bank for emergencies, Goal Zero Flip 24, 130 gr.
• 1 smartphone with Komoot and Terra Map apps, 200 gr.
• 1 pair of Black Diamond Distance Carbon Z poles, 170 gr.
• 1 headlamp, Petzl IKO CORE, 79 gr.
  documents and cash

Total gear weight: 4,146 gr (excluding water and food), (plus 237 gr. or minus 150 gr. depending on the backpack)

If you don't plan on sleeping in mountain huts or under a roof, you'll need:

• 1 sleeping bag, Nordisk Yeti Fever Ultra, 345 gr.
• 1 tent, Camp Minima 1, 2 or 3 depending on how many of you there are, 1,100 gr.
• 1 sleeping pad, Therm-a-Rest NeoAir UberLite, 250 gr.
• 1 stove, MSR PocketRocket 2, 73 gr.
• 1 fuel canister, MSR IsoPro Fuel, 110 gr.
• 1 titanium cup, MSR Titan Cup, 54 gr.
• 1 utensil, Light My Fire Spork, 11 gr.
• freeze-dried food pouches, as needed

Total camping gear weight: 1,943 gr

Total gear weight: 6,089 gr

N.B.: the gear, of course, can vary depending on location, time of year, weather conditions, trip duration and budget.

ROUTE

As with any adventure worth its name, route planning is one of the key steps. Try to gather information through the accounts of people who've already explored the area you want to visit. Prepare your trip using apps like Komoot, Terra Map, but also with printed trail maps, which still have their own charm and will come in handy if your batteries die. Be very careful at critical points, just like in trail races, it's always better to backtrack to the last spot where you were sure you were on route, rather than push forward and end up badly off-trail. Having done PTL and Eiger Ultra Trail, where competitors have to follow the GPS track provided by the organization, I've gained a fair bit of experience on this subject. It's not always easy to trust digital tools, sometimes it's a bit like ignoring your car's GPS and cursing when you end up taking the wrong turn. You always need to stay alert, it's better to stop and find reliable landmarks than to push forward, head down, off course.

Planning is everything. It's important to have a schedule with daily distance and elevation gain, so you have a sense of travel times between points. For example, knowing you'll reach a supermarket while it's open is much better than showing up after it's closed. Water and food are heavy, so good management of resupply points is essential, so you're not loading extra weight onto your shoulders unnecessarily. In your calculations, always leave a margin for the unexpected, because something always comes up.

Always think in terms of equivalent kilometers, that is, add the elevation gain in meters, divided by 100, to the distance. For example, 30 km with 1,500 meters of elevation gain is equivalent to 45 km on flat ground (30 + 1500/100).

To estimate your travel time, keep in mind that an average person walks at 5 km/h, a trained person at 6 km/h, an untrained person at 4 km/h.

Going back to our example, covering 30 km with 1,500 m D+, or 45 equivalent km, would take roughly 9 hours, to which you should add 2 hours for eating and breaks, and 1 hour for the unexpected.

NUTRITION

It's always a good idea to keep a small emergency food supply on hand.

THE WEATHER

Weather conditions affect both the gear we pack and our route, and need to be checked before and throughout the days of the trip.

It's important to track how the weather is developing, both through local weather services, to get the most accurate possible information on temperature, humidity and wind in the specific area you're in, and through national forecasting services, to anticipate how the situation might evolve.

If you're crossing areas with extreme or changeable conditions, check often, roughly every 3-4 hours. Don't hesitate to change route, even if it means adding distance, to avoid intense weather events. For example, it's better to get caught in a storm at the base of a mountain than at the summit, where the risk from lightning is far more dangerous. In particularly intense conditions, it's best to put away your poles, which should, in any case, always be carried tip-down.

Rain, in the mountains, can drop the temperature by as much as ten degrees, factor that into how you organize your gear.

Also keep in mind that fatigue and accumulated kilometers tend to make you feel the cold more.

Have a plan B ready, in case of extremely prolonged bad weather. You're not racing, stay flexible with your route, and always keep a time buffer to manage the situation.

After the first few days, you'll be able to predict your travel times more accurately, and anticipate trickier situations before they happen.

SLEEPING

At mountain huts, towels and sleeping bag liners can usually be rented for around €3-5, network connection is often unavailable, so bring cash. Overnight stays cost around €50, or €60 with half board.

The tent works well when there are two of you, so you can split the weight of the gear, check whether wild camping is allowed, and leave nothing behind after you pass through. Sleeping in a tent is always wonderful, and it lets you fully soak up the surrounding nature. Choose your stopping point ahead of time, and pitch camp while there's still daylight, to avoid unpleasant surprises.

Sleeping outdoors without a tent is only advisable in great weather, and for short stops.

This is how you can cross the world on foot, powered by nothing but your own strength, with minimal impact on the environment, just as people and cultures have always done, long before the rise of motorized transport.