I Always Miss My Pocket-Size Waterproof Notebook on Every Hike
The funny part is I don’t write much when I’m out. Most days it’s a couple of numbers, a quick sketch that doesn’t look like anything later, or a reminder that made perfect sense at the time and doesn’t now. The pages stay mostly blank. But I’d gotten used to that little bit of stiffness sitting against the fabric, the way it squared off the pocket so it didn’t collapse in on itself.
The waterproof part only really mattered a few times. Standing near a trailhead in a light drizzle, trying to note where I parked because I’d already changed plans twice. Another time leaning against a damp railing, writing down a measurement I didn’t trust myself to remember by the time I got back to the car. Regular paper would have been fine most days. Still, I kept the waterproof one because I didn’t have to think about it. If it got wet, it got wet. No decision, no hesitation.
What I didn’t expect was how much I’d notice it when it wasn’t there. Not because I needed to write something, but because my hand kept going to that pocket during little pauses. Waiting for coffee, standing in line, walking a familiar stretch of sidewalk. It’s the same motion as checking for keys or a phone, just a quick confirmation. Without it, the pocket felt too empty, like I’d skipped something in the routine.
I tried moving a regular notebook in for a while. Thinner, lighter, easier to forget about. It didn’t last. First time I got caught in a quick rain, I spent more effort keeping it dry than I would have spent just not writing anything down. After that it started living in a bag instead, which is where things go when they’re useful in theory. I stopped reaching for it.
There’s also the small annoyance factor that creeps in. A notebook, even a small one, changes how the pocket behaves. It makes sitting down feel slightly different. It competes with anything else you might want to stash there. On days when I’m already carrying too much, it’s the first thing I consider dropping. And sometimes I do. I leave it on the dresser, tell myself I won’t need it, and most of the time I’m right.
But then there are those small moments that don’t line up with the plan. A trail splits and the sign is missing, or there’s a gate with a code you’ll need again later, or you notice something you actually want to remember instead of just assuming you will. Pulling out a phone works, but it pulls you into other things. A notebook doesn’t. You write, close it, put it back. No glow, no drift.
I’ve gone back and forth with it enough that it’s become less about the notebook and more about how much friction I’m willing to carry around. Some weeks I want clean pockets and fewer decisions, so it stays behind. Other weeks I put it back without really thinking about it, and after a day or two it feels normal again, like it never left.
Right now it’s back in the rotation. Not every day, and not always in the same pocket. Sometimes it ends up in a bag for a stretch, then finds its way back. I still don’t use it much. But I notice when it’s missing, and that seems to count for something, even if I can’t quite justify it in a clean, logical way.