You saunter along wilderness trails; head-up, light of breath and foot, humming sweet melodies. Life is good. Occasionally, a sparrow chirps, and you smile. Aaah. You're not sweating; you feel no pain. You walk 25-30 miles each day, but what of it? The human body was designed for traveling the wilderness, and you've harnessed its power. Your backpack weighs just 15 pounds. Your movements are unhindered by straps or heavy boots. You wake by the sun and you sleep by the stars.
Occasionally, strange frantic people pass you on the trail, laboring under Herculean loads and chanting obscenities--you smile knowingly. These are the well-meaning but misguided "traditional" backpackers, shouldering the weight of the preposterous equipment that "experts" (high schoolers) advised them to buy (on commission) at the local Sports Authority. Several minutes later, you tend to pass these misguided souls; they are usually panting, sweating, frowning, leaning against stumps.