One of the curious phenomena of our age is the manner in which some of our simplest activities have evolved into sophisticated “processes” of daunting complexity.

Take hiking and backpacking, for example. It no longer seems conscionable merely to load up a rucksack, lace on some boots and strike out into unfamiliar terrain with nothing but a compass and map.

To a large degree this is because even simple walking has become “gadgetized”: We dare not leave behind our GPS transceivers, cell phones and lithium-powered headlamps. We carry first aid kits for injuries to body and limb; but what happens when the batteries run low? In the expectation that many of us have forgotten—or have simply neglected to learn—some basic outdoor lore, the following brief summaries are presented as a sort of first aid kit for use when the gadgets go down.

Can’t find my way home

For tens of thousands of years, cultures all over the globe have devised ingenious, sophisticated methods for telling time and for finding direction with nothing more than the human senses. It’s hardly an exaggeration to say that the appearance of affordable Global Positioning System devices is threatening to erase this precious lore in a relative blink of the eye.

It doesn’t have to. Navigating and orienteering by GPS are fun and satisfying in their own right, but so is direction-finding with the bare minimum of equipment. Knowing something about seat-of-the-pants dead reckoning actually enhances a GPS-guided trip, since hikers can strike out for unfamiliar destinations in full confidence they will get there with, or in spite of, delicate electronic gear.

Time and direction are so intimately linked that it pays to know how one affects a determination of the other. At any time of night, for example, Polaris—the North Star—serves as the keystone of the celestial compass. Of course, while facing Polaris (which lies halfway between “the Big Dipper” or Ursa Major, and the W-shaped Cassiopeia), the south is at one’s back, the east at one’s right, the west at one’s left. In terrain with distant landmarks, establishing the celestial compass at evening or dawn twilight helps create a mental map even in unfamiliar surroundings.

At its highest point each day, the sun is due south, which means that shadows point north at this crucial time. It follows that east and west are on a perpendicular line. At this point, one can mark any of the four cardinal points with a prominent landmark. Moreover, because true noon—i.e., the time of the sun’s “meridian transit”—establishes south, one can use a series of outstretched fingers to determine the approximate time at almost any hour of daylight.

At the end of an outstretched arm, the splayed index and little fingers (i.e., the “hook ’em, horns” configuration) represent roughly 15 degrees of arc in the sky; and an hour, in celestial terms, is 15 degrees.

Placing one or the other finger on the sun and measuring how many finger “gaps” it is back to south will tell how many hours before or after noon the sun happens to be. (In Daylight Savings Time, be sure to add an extra hour.) Conversely, if you know the time, you can “gap out” the requisite multiples of 15 degrees between the sun’s current position and hypothetical noon as a way of determining south.

You can use the same technique with the moon, as long as, first, you establish the time of the moon’s transit—again, when the moon is at it’s highest point in the sky—on a given night (say, midnight during a full moon), then remember that “High Moon” at due south occurs about 50 minutes later each successive night. With a magnetic compass handy, you can work out the 15-degree divisions of a circle with more precision. (After all, a 360-degree circle divided by 15-degree intervals equals 24 hours). What’s more, if you watch the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia circle continuously around the North Star (albeit counterclockwise), you can establish uncanny accuracy of timekeeping, hour by hour, throughout the night using only the stars. (Of course, all of the above instructions apply only to hiking in the Northern Hemisphere.)

Such basic techniques don’t even scratch the surface of what it’s possible to determine using only the sky, a compass and a watch. An excellent summary of simple yet elegant seat-of-the-pants orienteering is provided by the late Harold Gatty in his 1958 classic Nature Is Your Guide. For more advanced techniques, nautical texts on celestial navigation are sometimes helpful. Among these, Emergency Navigation by David Burch is perhaps most relevant for hikers and backpackers.

Food for thought

It was probably when Tang powdered orange drink became famous as NASA’s favorite space juice in the ’60s that portable food first became a gadget in its own right. Freeze-dried meals and powdered survival food “emulators,” like Alpha PMX (www.nutramed.com/alphapmx) represent the lightweight cutting edge of outdoor nutrition.

These options are neither inexpensive nor universally available, however. Far more practical for the “non-extreme” backpacker or day hiker is a summary of “Food Ideas for Backpackers” like the one compiled by John Curtis at Daymar Adventure Centre and Canoe Base in Ontario, Canada (www.netwoods.com/ Cooking/bp-food.html).

Curtis’ list is concise but exhaustive. His intention is to identify the best meal items and snacks for hikers and canoeists that can be readily found at a supermarket. Powdered foods and lightweight packaging are critical, and foods that don’t require cooking tend to be favored. Just the same, Curtis provides several hints for preparing and packing certain perishables to prolong their freshness for extended periods without refrigeration.

Chunks of unsliced bacon, for example, can be rinsed in water, wrapped in vinegar-soaked cloth, then clad in aluminum foil to fend off mold for a number of days. Likewise, smoked hard sausages will last longer if wrapped in cheesecloth and foil. Powdered Jello makes an untypical energy drink. So does “Sherpa Tea,” which consists of two cups powered milk, 1/3-cup sugar and 2 tablespoons instant tea. Mix these ahead of time, then, out on the trail, mix two to three tablespoons per cup of hot water—a “dab of margarine” per cup is a curious, optional garnish. Curtis even provides simple recipes for cooking and baking specifically on tiny camp stoves. Their ingredients are inexpensive and lightweight. Best of all, they’re meant to provide a welcome dollop of occasional fresh cooking during long stints in out-of-the-way places.

House on your back

One of the most dramatic areas of development for the backpacker is the design of backpacks themselves. Today’s integral-frame packs are seemingly light-years ahead of the rucksacks and external ladder-frame packs of 30 years ago.

The science of packing and weight distribution, however, has changed little indeed. As the venerable Colin Fletcher wrote in The Complete Walker back in 1968, “It has always been said, and I think rightly, that with the old shoulder-load packs you should keep the weight as high as possible, as well as close to the body.”

One of the chief advantages of today’s integral-frame packs is their “suspension” systems, designed to transfer as much load as possible to the hips yet still maintain stability at the shoulders. According to Marcus Dripps, director of education for the Tracy Caulkins Physiotherapy Centers, Fletcher’s sage advice is particularly valid even today. “The key,” says Dripps, “is to understand that your body’s center of gravity is like a bull’s-eye between your hips.”

An imaginary line from the center of the neck to the center of the hips, moreover, is known as the body’s line of gravity. “A backpacker should load the pack so that the heaviest items are closest to this line—from top to bottom and side to side,” Dripps continues. “And because you tend to walk with a slight forward stoop, higher, heavier items will tend to align perfectly with the line of gravity.”

The goal, if possible, is to eliminate any tendency of the pack to lean backwards thereby compressing the spine and provoking back pain, if not lasting injury. “At minimum, 80 percent of the load should rest on the hips via the hip belt,” he says. “The shoulder straps are just there for balance.”

Dripps recommends choosing a pack design that conforms to the curve of the back as precisely as possible. He also advises packing often-needed items within arm’s reach over the shoulders or at the sides. “The less often you need to remove and then re-mount your pack, the more your back will appreciate it—both on the trail itself and long after the return home.”