Backpack versus rolling luggage: As far as I’m concerned there is no contest

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I recently confided to a friend that I still travel with a backpack.

“Me too!” She exclaimed. “I love it, but my son is so embarrassed.” Her voice dropped, so my 70-year-old friend could imitate her 40-year-old son: “Nobody does that any more, Mom.”

We snorted even as we relished being members of an increasingly small clan – aging backpackers. Almost everyone else, particularly those over the age of 50, pull hard-case luggage on wheels through airport and train terminals.

But I remain defiant. At the airport I’ll occasionally get snippy about the rolling luggage, especially if I have to break stride because another traveller pulling one has cut me off. “There goes another ticky-ticky suitcase!” I’ll snap to my husband.

“Uh huh.”

“They’re so annoying.”

“Yep.”

I call them ticky-ticky suitcases because of the noise they make as they roll over tiles or cobblestones. “Tick, tick, tick, tick.”

My backpack is silent. It also allows me to climb the stairs after a long flight, rather than queue for the escalator. “Feels so good after sitting!” I exclaim virtuously to my husband.

“Uh huh.”

I don’t say anything more because he’s 20 feet behind me on the parallel escalator (his roller bag standing neatly beside him) and I’m huffing too much to raise my voice. To be fair, this is the only time he’s travelled with a ticky-ticky. He’d acquired one on a past trip when he had more to bring home than he’d taken and decided to give it a try.

I got my first big backpack in 1987 when I started tree planting. It was cutting edge, with an internal frame and two outside pockets. The zipper went three quarters of the way around so the bag could be opened flat. It’s a brand favoured by serious mountaineers and therefore barely affordable, but I never regretted buying it. I used it for nine tree planting seasons, several months-long backpacking trips, and lent it to a friend for her backpacking trip. It’s been on airplanes, trains, ferries and buses. I’ve used it as a pillow and a chair. I tried to use it as a bed once, but that didn’t really work.

When I got a professional job that required travel, mostly for academic conferences, I continued to use the old, battered and stained, blue backpack.

A work trip to Shanghai in 2012 was slightly unusual for me as I was travelling with university presidents, rather than fellow academics, which meant I stayed in a much nicer hotel than normal. The lobby was gleaming metal and marble. A wall of windows soared several stories over our heads showcasing an incredible view of the city skyline. Everyone was smartly dressed. The sound of women’s heels clacking synchronized with their ticky-ticky suitcases. When we arrived, a pile of shiny, tidy luggage sat on the floor, along with my glaring backpack. It could not have been more out of place and for the first time I was slightly embarrassed.

Perhaps I should upgrade my luggage, I thought.

But there was nothing to be done in the moment, so I strode forward and hoisted my bag over my blazer, trying to ensure my skirt wasn’t yanked up in the process. The staff didn’t blink. Professionals to the core, they simply smiled, handed me my room key and held open the elevator door. I declined the offer of help with my bag. By the time I had whooshed up 37 storeys, I had forgotten the urge to get a sleek suitcase. I was too dazzled by the view of the famous Bund waterway to care; and there was nobody around to see my backpack. When checking out, I threw the backpack in the trunk of a cab and apologized to no one.

About 10 years ago though, I found the stains could not be scrubbed away and no patch was strong enough to hold the rips together. The fancy brand label was tattered. I knew the time had come. I looked at the old bag slumped on the basement floor and told my husband I wanted to be buried in it.

“I’m not sure that’s practical.”

“What’s the problem? You’ll save money and it will be more ecological!”

Luckily, he doesn’t have to make those kinds of decisions yet.

I got a new backpack but couldn’t bear to throw away the original. I offered to lend it to a friend for a camping trip last summer but she demurred and borrowed a newer bag from someone else. I chose not to be offended.

I love walking through the airport with my (relatively) new backpack – my back slightly aches but my hands are free.

Tanya Berry lives in Nanaimo, B.C.