The Best Hikes Backpacker’s Editors Did in 2024

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This year, our editors found joy in experiences big and small. We went on life-list trips (one of which our editor learned about in the pages of this magazine), had babies, went hiking with said babies—you get the idea. Now, with 2025 just days away, we’re looking back on 365 days of pure adventure. But which stands out? We asked our editors to name the single best trail they hiked in 2024. Want to hike them yourself? Here’s where to go and how to make it happen.

West Coast Trail, Vancouver Island, BC

After reading about the West Coast Trail in a print issue of Backpacker some years back, I couldn’t stop dreaming about it. The image that stuck with me the most was of whales breaching off-shore, viewable from sandy campsites along the coastal path. So when I glimpsed my first tail fin in the distance on the second day of my weeklong backpacking trip there in July, I was ecstatic. Little did I know, I’d see hundreds more over the next few days, including a pod of orcas that made their way by camp one evening. And that’s not even to mention the two black bears, sea lion colonies, bald eagles, and mink my partner and I spotted during our hike.

While the wildlife sightings were a highlight, the trail itself also lived up to the hype. Knee-deep mud, over 100 slippery wooden ladders, rotting boardwalks, hand-powered cable cars, and rain-slicked beach boulders kept me on my toes (and sometimes my butt). But rather than feeling frustrated by the challenging conditions, I found them to be a blast. Every mile was like an obstacle course through explosive green rainforest or along the ocean; walking was engaging, messy, and plain fun. 

For a hiker used to mountain landscapes, the West Coast Trail offers an entirely different backpacking experience, and one that’s rich with history. Parts of the path originated as a travel and trade route for First Nations people, and eventually became a rescue trail for shipwreck victims. Now, it’s an iconic backpacking route that’s equal parts built up with amenities like pit toilets and campgrounds, and incredibly remote and rugged. Along the way, we met a handful of hikers who come back to Vancouver Island to hike the West Coast Trail year after year. I just might become one of them. 

Hike It: Required permits become available in January each year and go fast. Plan ahead: You’ll want to log on to the Parks Canada website early for your pick of dates. These permits include park entry and two mandatory ferries. Book a shuttle between trailheads with the West Coast Trail Express, which will even pick you up from either Victoria or Nanaimo, which house the main ferry terminals to the island. The trail features over a dozen campgrounds with bear lockers and toilets; be prepared to get cozy with your neighbors especially at the most popular sites like Thrasher, Cribs, and Tsusiat (we found solitude at Carmanah and Cullite Cove). The West Coast Trail app is very handy to navigate the tides, too. Most people take seven days to complete the trail, but experienced backpackers will find this timeline generous. We took six days, which still left plenty of time in camp each afternoon to play cards, sunbathe, and count blowholes spraying seawater in the distance. —Zoe Gates, Senior Editor

Denver Orbital Trail, Denver, Colorado

My wife and I had our second child this spring, which kept me close to home for the remainder of the year. That doesn’t mean I’ve spent 2024 on my couch: As soon as the new addition could safely ride in a carrier, I started taking him, his older brother, or occasionally both on a sampler of some of my favorite local hikes. We climbed to the top of Greyrock in Poudre Canyon, trudging through the scar of the 2012 High Park Fire and taking a break by the tree-shaded pond near the summit. We daytripped on the section of the Colorado Trail that starts at Kenosha Pass, wandering through aspen groves while keeping an eye out for moose. We took long summer rambles through Golden Gate State Park, revelling in the breeze every time the trail broke through the conifers. Oddly enough, though, it was a suburban trek around Denver that most captured my attention this year. 

Conceived of in 2023 by transportation planner Michel Tormey, the Denver Orbital Trail is what’s called an “instant urban trail,” a route that connects existing pathways into a long-distance hike. As the name suggests, the DOT traces a 175-mile circle around the city of Denver, switching between paved multi-use paths, gravel, and foothill singletrack along the way. So far, I’ve knocked out about 30 miles of the route, mostly in my spare hours before or after work. My favorite part so far has been segment 28, a 7.8-mile trek that traces the edge of, and then summits, North Table Mountain, the flattop peak that overlooks Coors’s massive, industrial brewery in the city of Golden and the foothills beyond. 

As you might gather from that description, it’s not always a pretty trail as a whole. Some sections, like the one that passes Purina’s notoriously stinky pet food factory on the edge of town, are downright ugly. But as someone who’s lived in or around Denver most of their adult life, I find it captivating how every few miles along the DOT, the city’s urban facade sprouts a hole and the nature underneath it pokes through. A coyote stalks prairie dogs between suburban housing tracts; a flock of butterflies flutters around the rabbitbrush on the side of the trail; a downslope wind from the Front Range whips a reservoir into whitecaps that crash into the shore, sending spray across the trail. Every time I head out, I catch a moment like that, and so far it’s been enough to keep me coming back.

Hike it: The DOT is divided into 28 sections, none longer than 12 miles and all appropriate for dayhiking. If you can’t catch a ride, it’s possible to do many as one-way hikes and return to your starting point by public transportation. Section 28 and section 1, an 11.2-mile route that climbs into the foothills above Golden, are both worthy starting points. —Adam Roy, Executive Editor

Inca Trail, Peru

This year, I had a very good problem: Having so many epic adventures to choose from that making this decision was quite difficult. But the Inca Trail was the best experience of the year—heck, maybe even my life. I first learned about the Peruvian archaeological site in my middle school history class, and the combination of hiking and Indigenous history never bored me. A trip to South America seemed like a long shot, but nevertheless, I kept it at the top of my bucket list. Flash forward to the end of May: My college friends and I boarded flights together to Cusco, Peru, to set foot on the the Inca Trail.

However, just six weeks before that flight, I got hit with news that put everything into question: stage 1 melanoma that would require surgeries on my foot, where the mole was. I wasn’t able to walk in between surgeries, so I was concerned about taking on a thru-hike plus international travel. However, when I got the call that I was cancer free in the days leading up to the trip, I knew I had to take on the challenge. I was cleared to hike, now with a greater level of gratitude.

We spent four days hiking between 7,218 and 13,780 feet before ending at the famous Inca site. Although I was starstruck upon seeing Machu Picchu in person after reading about it for well over a decade, that wasn’t my favorite part of the trek. It was the history we learned while stepping on the same soil that the Inca did hundreds of years ago. That trail, and its surrounding environment, is extremely sacred to the people who live there. Our guide taught us the divine nature of the condors flying above us, the medicinal properties of the plants around us, and the spiritual significance of each site we passed on our way to Machu Picchu. We left offerings to the land and thanked it for what it has provided for us. There were several times on the trail where I got chills because I knew I was experiencing something great in real time. The Inca Trail was life-changing on its own, but for me, even more so on the heels my melanoma recovery. 

Hike it: Due to Peruvian federal guidelines, you can’t hike the Inca Trail without a guiding agency. There are plenty to choose from, but we loved our time with Llama Path, a sustainable-tourism company. We booked our reservations with them about nine months in advance in order to secure a spot on the one weekend that worked with all of us. But, the organization recommends booking at least four to six months in advance even if you’re timing is flexible, because permits on the trail do sell out, especially between April to August. With this organization, all we had to do was show up in Cusco. Llama Path organized our the rest: They shuttled us travel to and from the trailhead, and on the trail, porters and guides handled navigation, taught us about Indigenous culture in the region we hiked in, carried a lot of our gear, and completed every single camp chore. We arrived to each campsite with our tents already set up and dinner nearly ready. Each meal was multiple courses and was some of the best food I had ever eaten. Side note: Bring a cash tip (in Peruvian soles) for these hard workers. —Emma Veidt, Associate Editor

Glacier Canyon Trail, Lee Vining, California

My adventure through the Ansel Adams Wilderness helped me rediscover my love for backpacking. After a two-year hiatus, I convinced two of my friends to head out to the Sierra with me in late July with only a week to prep beforehand. We originally planned to hit a different trail but ended up snagging the permit to hike Glacier Canyon Trail to Dana Lake on a whim. Our journey ended up being full of surprises.

We started our out-and-back trek early Saturday morning with our starting point being the picturesque Tioga Lake. We climbed along a creek and under the towering ponderosa pines. After suffering through the steep incline, we came to a plateau and stretched with views of meadows tucked within glacial carved-out canyons. After a quick snack break, we entered the next obstacle of our hike: the rock scramble.

What started as a fun hop-and-climb over rocks quickly turned precarious. One rock scramble away from our final destination, was when the rain started. Weather changes extremely fast in a high-altitude climate, especially at 11,000 feet in the High Sierra. The rain quickly turned to lightning and we quickly gave up on our ascent and chose to hide under a rockface. My friends and I grabbed our tarp and used it as a canopy to shelter ourselves from the storm.

The danger lasted about 15 minutes—or so we thought. When conditions cleared, we started to move again, but within minutes the rain restarted, and this time, it was worse. A rainstorm comes in fast on the high mountains, so we thought it would leave just as fast. We couldn’t be more wrong. The rain hit harder, and the lightning boomed within the dome of the mountain, creating an echo effect that made the lighting seem infinite around us. Then, the hail started. My two friends and I huddled under our makeshift tarp-shelter that day for two hours haunted by lightning and hit by hail. We had no injuries, but our clothes were soaked.

After the storm, we sighed with relief, thanking the forces of nature for letting us live, and set up our tent for the evening. A hot bowl of ramen and an alpine dip later, we sat back, laughed, and became bonded for life. We watched one of the most beautiful sunsets of my life and got as much sleep as we could that night. The descent was just as beautiful as our hike in and we took a relaxing dip in Tioga Lake before we headed back to Los Angeles (not without stopping at Mammoth Brewery first).

For all of us getting back into the sport of backpacking, this could have been a terrifying experience that kept us away. But it made us more eager to explore different trails and always come prepared for the worst.

Hike It: Permits become available six months in advance but we were able to grab one a week before. You can do the hike in a day (permit not required) but for overnight trips, you need to secure a permit. Take the Tioga Pass to Tioga Lake where you will see paved parking directly in front of the trailhead. Make sure to clear your car of all food you are not taking up the trail with you as it is an active bear area. Follow the trail around Tioga Lake and ascend up the forest to the meadows. Once you hit the meadows, follow the trail through the canyons and scramble your way up rocks until you finally reach Dana Lake. —Teaghan Skulszki, Social Media Editor