MISSOULA, Mont. – Agriculture Secretary Orville Freeman thought he was roughing it deep in the backwoods of the Bob Marshall Wilderness.
Traveling on horseback in 1962 with Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas and U.S. Forest Service Chief Edward Cliff, the men were in the middle of a guided pack trip to view some of the challenges facing managers of the wilderness area.
“We had enjoyed every minute of the trip – the magnificent scenery, long days in the saddle, the smell of wood smoke and the big meals matched only by our hearty appetites,” Freeman later wrote. “As we silently viewed the lake, the stillness was broken by voices and six hikers came into view, full packs riding head high on their backs.”
“They came toward us with light and tireless step – four youngsters and two adults.”
No one in the group was prepared for such a sight.
Back then, backpacking was the sport of a hardy few. Few families braved the wilds armed only with what their backs would bear.
But the Rupe family of Sunland, Calif., were by then old hands at carrying a pack, setting up a wilderness camp and leaving the comforts of home behind.
Carrying their vintage Kelty backpacks, the family was nearing the end of another long day on the trail when they came upon the group of dignitaries along the trail to Big Salmon Lake.
“We were getting ready to stop for the night when we came upon this group of horses with their packers,” remembers Jack Rupe, now at home near Moiese, Mont. “I suppose there were seven or eight of them, with maybe a dozen animals. They were all sitting around and chewing the fat.”
A lively conversation ensued. The men wanted to know how they’d got started, what kind of difficulties they’d faced, where they’d picked up their knowledge.
“There weren’t that many families backpacking in those days,” said Harriet Rupe. “It was a novelty.”
Before the family disappeared down the trail, the Forest Service chief sent word to a nearby ranger station that he wanted someone to come quick and take some photographs of this unusual group.
Little did the Rupes know then, but they’d soon be gracing the pages of a guidebook that would help other families discover the fledgling sport of backpacking.
“We wondered how many other families wanted to backpack in the wilderness, but just didn’t know how to start,” Freeman wrote in the forward of “Backpacking in the National Forest Wilderness – A family adventure.”
The front cover featured a photograph of the backpack-carrying Rupe family lined out along a ridgetop.
“They surely looked happy and healthy as they walked on out of sight,” Freeman said.
The photographer arrived at the Rupe family camp and documented everything.
“We laid out our gear and our dehydrated food,” said Jack. “He took a lot of photographs, but evidently we were pretty grubby after being out for several days. Word came back from Washington that the photos weren’t good enough – they sent out their own photographer.
“It gave the kids a chance to clean up and put on some clean clothes. They were happy about that.”
The photographer met them on tinder-dry national forest lands near Los Angeles. She went to work orchestrating a series of photographs for the upcoming pamphlet. At one point, she wanted them to build a campfire.
“There was a ranger there. Boy, was he nervous,” Jack said.
A few months after the pamphlet came out, the Rupe family started receiving fan mail. Parents from all over the country were intrigued by the idea of leaving the creature comforts of home and venturing into the wilderness with their children in tow.
“Wilderness backpacking is not limited to supermen,” touted the pamphlet. “It can be a family vacation.”
The Rupes discovered they weren’t alone in their family oriented backcountry adventures.
“We also got an awful lot of letters from people who said they’d hiked in someplace with their families,” Harriet said. “There were others enjoying the outdoors as much as we were.”
Back then, there wasn’t any Gore-Tex or freeze-dried foods or lightweight tents. Nearly everyone looking to try backpacking was searching for any kind of help available.
Jack, then a rocket research engineer with the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif., had to be innovative in coming up with ideas for backcountry equipment. Back then, there wasn’t any one-stop shopping for camping gear.
“Our kids slept in tubes cut from long rolls,” he said. “The tubes were about three feet in diameter and could sleep two kids. We’d tied the tubes up with a nylon cord and put a couple of sticks crossed over in the ends.
“You could make a pretty decent tent out of it.”
Jack’s rule was no one in the family could carry more than 25 percent of their body weight.
“Everyone had to carry their own sleeping bags, tarps and personal gear,” he said. “I did have to keep an eye on the kids. If I didn’t watch it, they’d stuff their packs full of candy.”
Jack made some of the backpacks his children used. Early on, they also got some help from a pioneering backpack maker.
“We were there when Kelty was born,” said Jack. “We bought one of the first backpacks from Kelty. He had just a very small shop in southern California when we purchased those first backpacks.”
The family’s backpacking adventures eventually led to their decision to sell their home in California and move to Montana – more than 40 years ago now.
“I’m sure our backpacking trips are something that our kids will always remember,” Jack said. “Many people fail to realize that their kids grow up so fast and they can miss that chance to do things with them forever.”
Even back then, the Rupes knew they were on to something that the whole family would treasure forever.
“We were torn between the desire to get back to civilization, which I reckon means good food and hot baths, and the desire to heed the call of the wilderness and remain in this beautiful secluded area,” Harriet wrote in her journal during their trip into the Bob Marshall. “The temptation of this leisurely carefree way of life is hard to ignore and yet we are forced to return to our workaday worlds”
“In a short time, our adventures in the wilderness will just be a memory, but we are leaving with a strong desire to return again next year,” she wrote.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
