From a story on hikers who don’t mind ponying up big bucks for a fancy meal after a hard day’s slog.

At trail’s end, chefs in white aprons gave them braised lamb with artichokes, mushroom penne pasta cooked on the spot and served on campground tables covered with white linens in an oak forest 1,480 feet high.


For dessert, the chefs pulled strawberry tiramisu from their iced coolers and popped crisp Italian wines.


For the campers, it was an introduction to gourmet grub.

This just feels wrong to me — it’s one thing to go car-camping and scare up a gourmet meal if you’re the one doing the cooking; it’s totally cool to have tasty, original meals on a backpacking trip, when freeze-dried fare tastes like tire tread; but having a chef waiting at trail’s end sorta defeats the DIY ethic that’s intrinsic to hiking in the wildnerness.