Moral Hazard

About a year before the trip, Hilary surprised me by saying that we’d all need backpacks. Incredulous, I quickly searched myself for a hackysack and Thai fisherman pants. Finding neither, I replied that I felt like I was in more of a “roller luggage phase” of my life. Equally incredulous, she quickly played out in her head the many and varied implications of this statement. Her face registered dismay, and then grave consideration of whether to cancel the entire trip right on the spot.

But, ever patient, and well-versed in the Dark Arts of Persuading Me, she stayed focused on the discussion at hand, and referred me to our friend Kelly’s blog, A Family Afar. Their trip was a direct inspiration, and Kelly’s blog is a primary reference. It reads in relevant part, “I laugh at my pre-trip planning self, as I remember very early on actually contemplated rollers instead of backpacks.  Now two months in I see rollers would never have worked for this type of trip, where every “road” is an obstacle course of holes, various obstructions, and excrement of some sort.” Well, I will sure as hell not be laughed at – especially not by myself.

Bag type aside, our dual goals for packing were to go light, and, in order to avoid moral hazard, to have everyone carry as much of their own stuff as possible. Moral hazard, in this case, would involve me carrying, for The Boy, a gallon of legos, 2 nerf automatic weapons,  and various sticks and rocks, and for The Girl, the actual Library of Congress. I let it be known – not without haughtiness – that I personally was going light, and I was sure as hell not carrying their bags around the world for them, nor carrying their superfluous shit, nor carrying their important shit that they had no room for because of their superfluous shit.

The kids and Hilary ended up with 50L, 40L and 70L backpacks, respectively. And I purchased an 80L pack – with wheels. But on the eve of departure, we packed up everything, and I was able to fit my stuff, plus my allocation of kids’ and group gear into our old swiss army 60L or so carry-on size roller bag – with backpack straps. Nice!

Bear in mind, we shipped a couple hundred pounds of winter clothes and backcountry ski gear to Japan. But that gear aside, we packed what we thought would be our kits for the bulk of the year, and we carried on all our bags on the flight from Boise. You could have grilled a flank steak on the smoldering coals of self-satisfaction I felt from the lightness of our – mostly my – packing.

Boise was no problem:

But the walk in LAX from our terminal to the Tom Bradley International Terminal was roughly 3 miles. No sweat for me, with my daypack and roller bag. After a mile or so, the kids began complaining about the weight of their packs. I gave my typical responses to their complaints, which alternate between ignoring them and mocking their weakness.

But eventually I realized The Girl, who truth be told is extremely tough, looked like the guy on the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. Eventually I picked up her pack and HOLY SHIT it weighed like 60 pounds – she weighs like 60 pounds. Did not notice that loading the car. Overburdening a child is probably no longer specifically covered by Idaho statute, but it probably falls under some child abuse or endangerment statute. And, it’s just frowned upon. Especially when The Dad is wheeling luggage and shouldering a modestly sized backpack. I dawned on me that bringing our little carry-on wasn’t a badge of virtue, it just meant I forced the kids to carry an unreasonable amount.

So, we ended up carrying the kids’ backpacks over our shoulders and in the crooks of our arms through most of LAX, and then later through the Fiji airport.

Hilary’s a good sport, but since the wheel was invented, one backpack is one too many – unless it’s a ski pack. And when you are already carrying a backpack, the worst possible piece of luggage to carry is another backpack – unless you’re wearing Thai Fisherman pants.