Trail Mix

A Love Story in Every Handful

I’ve eaten a lot of trail mix in my life. A lot. Enough that if you lined up every handful I’ve consumed along the Pacific Crest Trail, it would probably create a continuous, snackable line from Mexico to Canada. (Imagine the bears’ delight.)

Trail mix has been hiking’s most dependable companion long before performance gels, electrolyte chews, or energy bars with names that sound like elite military units. Back in the day, before nutritionists got involved, we called it GORP—Good Old Raisins and Peanuts. And that’s exactly what it was: raisins. Peanuts. Maybe a stubborn almond or two if someone was feeling fancy.

GORP fueled many a Boy Scout, Girl Scout, and wide-eyed Sierra Clubber into the great unknown. But let’s be honest: raisins and peanuts alone do not spark joy. They spark survival. That’s a different energy.

Somewhere along the line, hikers revolted. We demanded flavor. We demanded crunch. We demanded those little bits of dried pineapple that look like sugar-coated treasure. We demanded M&Ms—nature’s perfect hiking candy, even though I’m pretty sure nature had nothing to do with them.

And just like that, trail mix entered its Golden Age.

The Trailmaster’s Trail Mix Memories

I have vivid memories of where I’ve snacked on trail mix:

On a windy mountain peak, where I fumbled the bag and watched half my almonds fly off into the abyss. (Enjoy, ravens.)
Beside a babbling brook, where one renegade peanut invariably rolled into the water and floated off like it was late for an appointment downstream.
On the switchbacks of San Jacinto, where I rationed my mix carefully—”one handful per mile”—only to break that rule within 30 minutes.
In the redwoods, where everything, including me, smelled faintly of pine resin, and the chocolate pieces became pleasantly squishy but never, ever melted. Redwood sorcery.

Trail mix tastes different depending on where you eat it. On a mountaintop? Gourmet. In the car on the way home? Somehow disappointing. On your couch? Wrong. Just… wrong.

The Great Trail Mix Debate

Hikers love to claim they’ve created the perfect recipe. And each one swears theirs is superior, scientifically balanced, and nutritionally optimized.

I’ve heard passionate arguments about:

Raisins: yes or absolutely not
Cashews: essential luxury or trail-mix heresy
Pretzel pieces: too salty or just salty enough
Chocolate: always M&Ms, never chocolate chips
Banana chips: delightful crunch or dehydrated disappointment
Coconut flakes: fine if you want to smell like sunscreen

Me? I’m a bit of a trail mix anarchist. I’ll try anything once. I’ve thrown in espresso beans, ginger chews, even broken-up stroopwafels. (Don’t knock it till you hike it.)

When making mix at home, I rarely create the same batch twice. Improvisation is half the fun—kind of like choosing which trail to hike in the morning.

Store-Bought Mixes: The Modern Marvels

Store-bought trail mix has come a long way, too. Some are salty, some sweet, some sweet-and-salty, and some astonishingly healthy in a way that makes you think, This is good for me? Really?

A current favorite of mine—especially when I’m trying to be good but still want something tasty—is Power Up Trail Mix. Keto-friendly, clean ingredients, and genuinely delicious. It’s the kind of snack that makes you feel like you’ve made a responsible life choice simply by opening the bag.

In Praise of the Humble Handful

Trail mix will never be fancy. It doesn’t need to be. It’s not a meal; it’s a moment. A pause on the trail to enjoy nature, fuel up, and smile at how something so simple can make the day feel complete.

Every trail tells a story. And more often than not, that story includes a handful of trail mix.

Hike On.