How Electrolyte Packets Turned a Rough Hike Around

We were camped at a dry, exposed site above the switchbacks for three nights in late June, and the ridge hike I had circled on the map for months finally had a clear morning. Nine miles out and back, almost none of it shaded, with a scramble at the top that looks out over three valleys. I had one 32 ounce bottle of plain water and a box of HydroMATE electrolyte packets sitting in the truck that I had bought on a whim after a friend mentioned them, still sealed in the shrink wrap. I grabbed one packet almost as an afterthought and dropped it in my pack pocket, mostly because it was already open and sitting on the seat. That decision is the only reason I am writing this instead of describing a much worse afternoon.

The trail had almost no tree cover after the first mile, just scrub brush and rock, and by 9:30 the sun was already flat and relentless. I drank the way I always drink on a hike, small sips whenever I remembered, which on a normal shaded trail has never been a problem for me. This was not a normal trail. My little terrier mix Scout was doing fine, tongue out, tucking into the rare patch of shade whenever the trail offered one, but I noticed somewhere around mile three that my one water bottle was already half gone and we were not close to the halfway point.

By the overlook at mile four and a half I had a headache pressing behind my eyes that I told myself was just the glare off the rock. My legs felt heavier than the elevation gain explained. I sat down longer than I meant to, ate half a granola bar I did not really want, and looked at the trail back down with a kind of dread I do not usually feel on a downhill. Plain water was not fixing whatever was going on, and I only had about a third of a bottle left for the return trip.

That is when I remembered the HydroMATE packet in my pocket. I tore it open, dumped it into what water I had left, shook the bottle, and drank about half of it sitting on that rock before we started back down.

I did not feel dramatically better in five minutes. What I felt, over the next twenty, was the headache backing off and my legs remembering how to hold me up on a downhill.

The last four and a half miles down were still slow. I am not going to pretend one packet turned a rough afternoon into an easy one. But the wobble in my legs steadied enough that I stopped white-knuckling the loose rock sections, and the headache stayed dull instead of building the way it had been. I finished the last mile rationing sips of the same bottle, now half electrolyte water, and made it back to camp under my own steam with Scout trotting ahead of me like nothing had happened, which for him, nothing had.

That night I sat by the fire and thought about how differently the afternoon could have gone if that box of HydroMATE packets had stayed in the truck instead of one landing in my pocket. I am 52, I do not drink like I am running a race, and I had genuinely believed one bottle of plain water was enough for a nine mile ridge hike in June. It was not, and the trail did not care that I felt fine on the way out.

Since that trip I pack differently. I carry two bottles instead of one on anything over five miles with real sun exposure, and I mix a HydroMATE packet into the second bottle before I even leave camp instead of waiting until I feel bad enough to remember I own them. It is a small change, and it is the one I am glad I made before the next hot ridge instead of after.

What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table

If you asked me over coffee whether a powder packet actually turned that hike around, I would tell you the honest version, which is that it did not undo the mistake of only bringing one bottle. Nothing fixes that except bringing more water next time, and I do now. What the HydroMATE packet gave me was a way to get more out of the water I still had left when I was already behind on it, on a trail with no shortcut back to the truck. It is not a substitute for planning ahead on a hot exposed trail, and I would never tell you to skip carrying enough water because you have a box of these in your pack. But for the afternoon when you have underestimated the sun, and your legs are telling you the downhill is going to be longer than the uphill was, it is the difference between white-knuckling it back to camp and just walking back to camp. I would rather just walk back.