I wonder if every hiker is like me. I was trying to find a stove to take on a backpacking trip when it occurred to me: When did I get two stoves? I was looking for it in one of my packs, when another thought intruded: How did I get four packs? I could be approaching the stage of my backpacking experience when I just have too much stuff. I mean, it didn’t start off like this.

When I first started hiking, some 28 years ago, I had one pack. In pictures from that era I look like a throwback to an earlier time. There’s me at Gentian Pond on my first overnighter. Leather hat, no gaiters, cut off pair of jeans for shorts, a la Larry Bird length, cotton T-shirt and tube socks, wearing all-leather waffle stompers. Not one item of Gore-Tex for rain gear. There wasn’t any Gore-Tex. If there was, I couldn’t afford to trash it around on the trail. You didn’t want to ruin anything good by taking it to the woods. That’s all different now.

I’m pretty sure I can identify the culprits who contributed to my acquisition of more outdoor gear. I think it started with wanting more than one size pack, one for multi-day hikes of 50 miles or more and one for day hikes. Then I had to have a bigger day pack for hikes in the off season, when you pack more clothes. Once I had more than one pack, it meant there were more places to put even more gear.

In the early years, I didn’t own a headlamp. I did a through hike in 1994 from Springer Mountain, Ga., to Andover, Maine, and all I had was a Mini Mag Lite and a stretch-strap-headband to mount it in. I now have two headlamps. One is courtesy of a cousin who gave it to me for Christmas last year. Now, I like it better than my other one. My count of headlamps doubled, but I can only carry one. Oh yeah, then there’s the candle lantern for a backup. I’m sure that if I look around the house I can turn up more lights to backpack with as well. The stuff just multiplies.

Relatives help. My mom, well intentioned, gives me Swiss Army knives. I now have five. Mom, I love you, but I don’t need any more knives. I’ve got a straight blade and a lock back, as well, as if the Army knives weren’t enough.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love gear. My newest pack is a high-end, Dana Designs, internal frame, Cadillac of packs. It’ll probably last a lifetime. I bought it second hand from my upstairs neighbor. He got a new pack and sold me his old one, which was only a couple of years old. He shares some of the blame for my excess. He’s always trying to sell me stuff. That’s how I got my second, no, third, sleeping bag. It’s a North Face, lightly used, minu-20-degree, down-filled cocoon. He tempted me with a great price and I grabbed it.

Another cousin, the brother to the one who gave me the second headlamp, has also given me Christmas gifts of outdoor gear. In the past he’s given me a draw telescope, a compass and more. I now have three sets of optics for viewing long distance. I own two compasses, three fanny packs.

There’s more. I looked around the other day and figured out that I now have enough stuff to fully outfit one other person completely, from boots to cap including everything to put in the pack, as well as the pack. I mean everything: Boots, gaiters, hiking pole, optics, water bottle, stove, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, rain gear, mess kit, it’s all there. But, I only have one tent. Although, if pressed, there’s an extra-large pack poncho which I could make into a tarp.

Then there’s the clothes. When I started, as mentioned, I didn’t have Gore-Tex. Now I have three pair of wind pants, two pair of which are Gore-Tex. It still amazes me that the clothes I wear to wander around on trails, in good weather and bad, are more expensive than those I wear to my job. My clothes come home with spruce gum from everywhere that I’ve sat, leaned on, grabbed or scraped against. They smell like wood smoke from campfires.

Maps? I’ve got two or more sets or what must be every hiking trail in the state. There’re guidebooks, current versions and obsolete, so I can find obscure trails that have been relocated.

Now, I’m not complaining. I’ve hiked a lot of years with some of this stuff. I’m glad to have all of it, I guess, from which I can choose which thing I need or should take. But, partly the blame lies with L.L. Bean. They put an outlet store a few blocks from where I live. Actually, I moved to where the store is. No matter, I’m sure it was their diabolical plot to put a store in a place I could move to. They knew that if they built a store I would come.

With the purchase of every new gizmo, another item gets relegated to back up duty, maybe that’s how it spreads, this attracting of gear. If I can stay out of the equipment stores, maybe I can stop this thing before I have so much I can outfit three people or worse, a whole summer camp. Meanwhile, there’s a mess kit at Bean’s that’s caught my eye. My old one’s 20 years old. It’s still got it’s handles – but the new one’s titanium.

Brad Viles is an avid hiker who has logged some 8,000 lifetime miles, including the Appalachian Trail. A trail maintainer for the Maine Appalachian Trail Club he has climbed Mount Katahdin 75 times. He can be reached at sball1@ prexar. com