What I Packed for Seven Days of Skiing and Mountaineering in Northern California
What I Packed for Seven Days of Skiing and Mountaineering in Northern California
Why Packing for This Trip Was Different From Any Shoot I Had Done
Most of my jobs last a day or two. I show up, I shoot, I go home to a real bed and a real shower. This one was different from the start. I was leaving South Lake Tahoe for seven days by myself, driving toward Mount Lassen and then Mount Shasta, with a plan to ski, climb, and shoot photos and video the entire time for three different brand clients. That meant I had to think about packing in a way I never had before. I was not just packing camera gear. I was packing for a person who had to survive in the mountains alone while also doing a full time photography job.
Every bag I loaded into the van had to earn its spot. There was no assistant to carry a second case. There was no producer to remind me I forgot something back at the shop. If I left something behind, I would find out about it three hours from cell service with no way to fix it. That pressure changed how I packed. I stopped thinking about what might be nice to have and started thinking hard about what I actually needed to get through each day and still come home with usable footage.
I also had to pack for two very different environments in the same trip. Mount Lassen meant snow travel and ski touring on a lower volcano with easier access. Mount Shasta meant a much bigger mountain, a real alpine climb, and two nights sleeping at elevation before a long summit push. Packing for both at once meant my van looked like a small outdoor store by the time I pulled out of Tahoe.
The Camera Gear I Couldn't Leave Behind
For the actual photography, I kept things simpler than people expect. My main camera for this trip was a Sony A7R4. I brought one tripod and leaned on a small set of lenses rather than hauling my entire kit up a volcano. Weight matters more than people realize when you are the one carrying it up a mountain with no help. Every extra lens is extra weight on your back during a climb where you already feel every pound by hour three.
I also brought a drone, though I did not use it every day. Weather on this trip was rough enough that flying was not always possible or smart. I made the call on the fly depending on wind, fog, and how much battery life I could afford to spend on a shot that might not even work. Along with the camera body and drone, I packed extra batteries, memory cards, and a way to back up footage in the van each night, since losing a week of work to a corrupted card was not something I was willing to risk.
Product shots for the brand clients meant I also carried some of their gear with me, since part of the job was showing their products actually being used in the field. That added weight and bulk I had to plan around, especially heading into Mount Shasta where every pound counted twice as much once I started climbing.
The Ski and Mountaineering Gear That Made the Trip Possible
On the ski and climbing side, I packed skis, ski boots, crampons, and an ice axe, along with layers built for conditions that changed by the hour. Northern California in the shoulder season can swing from freezing before sunrise to shockingly hot by mid morning, and I felt that shift almost every single day of this trip. I packed for both extremes rather than betting on one or the other.
I slept in the van most nights on a normal, full sized bed rather than a sleeping bag setup, which made a real difference in how rested I felt heading into physically demanding days. A tired photographer makes worse decisions and misses shots, so I did not treat sleep as an afterthought even on a trip built around suffering a little for the sake of the work.
I also carried a Garmin InReach for safety, since I was alone for most of the week with no one to call if something went wrong. That single piece of gear mattered more to me than almost anything else in the van, simply because it meant I was never fully cut off, even in places where my phone had no signal at all.
The Small Stuff That Mattered More Than I Expected
People always ask about cameras and lenses, but some of the smallest items in my pack ended up mattering the most. Dermatone sunscreen made a real difference on the long approach days when the sun reflecting off snow started cooking my face by mid morning. I also learned quickly how much layer management mattered, pulling a fleece on and off, swapping gloves, and adjusting a beanie depending on wind and effort level throughout a single climb.
Food was another thing I underestimated at first. Long days of climbing and shooting burn through energy fast, and I found myself relying on simple food I could eat quickly without stopping my whole process, things like bars I could grab out of a pocket without digging through a bag. It sounds small, but on a summit day, not having to stop and dig for food saved real time and energy I needed later.
I also packed for the unglamorous parts of the job that nobody sees in the final photos, extra socks, blister care, and a change of dry clothes to put on after a cold or wet day. Staying dry and comfortable at camp made the difference between recovering enough to perform the next day and starting the next climb already worn down.
What I Would Pack Differently Next Time
Looking back, there are a few things I would change. I carried more gear into Mount Shasta Horse Camp than I truly needed on the first trip up, which meant I ended up going back down for a second load, tripod, camera kit, and brand products included. It cost me time and energy I could have saved with better planning before I ever left the trailhead.
I also underestimated how much the terrain itself would dictate what gear actually got used. I carried skis up a section of trail on Mount Shasta thinking I was on the ski route, only to realize later I had hiked a long stretch on a hiking trail while holding my skis instead of skinning up on them. That mistake taught me to trust local route knowledge over assumptions, even when I thought I had done my homework.
Every trip like this teaches you something about what you actually need versus what you think you need. I came home with a much clearer list for the next solo alpine project, and honestly, a little more respect for how much thought goes into packing a van for a week when there is nobody else to lean on if you get it wrong.
I also learned to pack in a way that made the van itself easier to live in, not just a storage box for gear. When you are living out of a vehicle for seven days while also working, being able to find your headlamp or your extra batteries in the dark without dumping out three bins matters more than it sounds like it should. I started organizing gear by day and by task rather than by category, which saved me real time on mornings when I was already running behind schedule.
None of this packing list is complicated or expensive. It is mostly about being honest with yourself about what a trip actually requires versus what would just be nice to have along for the ride. That kind of honesty is a skill on its own, and it is one I am still working on every time I load up the van for the next project.
Dalton Johnson is a commercial photographer and director of photography based in South Lake Tahoe, California. Over the last decade he has worked with brands including Patagonia, GoPro, Arc'teryx, Four Seasons, Nike, Rivian, and Big Agnes across all seven continents. He documents adventure, travel, and the outdoors through photography, film, and writing. Follow along at dalton-johnson.com.