This one’s for all the gram-counters out there.

Listen, buddy. We all know about your base weight. We’ve seen your Dyneema tarp and your sawn-off toothbrush. You’re an ultralighter. A weight watcher. An ounce eliminator. A gram grump.

Every single item on your person is carefully curated, and you’re faster and more energized as a result. You tell everyone else at the campsite about how happy and smart you are in between bites of gruel out of your cold soak jar because carrying a stove is for chumps. All those jabronis with ankle-cut boots and Nalgene bottles just don’t get how good it feels to be the lightest feather this side of the continental divide.

Now, I’m not going to accuse you of not doing your due diligence; after all, you’ve got the spreadsheets to back it up. But what if I told you there was one easy trick that can permanently reduce your base weight by 20-30 grams? One that plenty of humans off-trail have undergone, but no thru-hiker ever discusses? Would you consider yourself up to the challenge?

Well, my friend, if you’ve got the balls to try it, stick with me and I’ll make it easy. While I guarantee you I’m the first thru-hiker to publish a guide to this ultralight hack, it’s no dark magic, it just takes some commitment. I just finished the job myself, and I couldn’t be happier with the results. So buckle up: it’s time to get rid of that loose weight that’s been stuck on you all this time.

My friends, it’s time for you to get an orchiectomy.

How I shaved 20 grams off of my base weight for good

The tricky part of this hack is the amount of gatekeeping that surrounds it. Unless you have a related injury or condition that requires the procedure, you’ll have to do a lot of work to convince the folks in charge to let you go through with it. The doctors need to know that you have been living as an ultralighter for years and that you are ready to make this commitment despite the risks. Blame decades of medical discrimination for implying flippancy on our end.

Fortunately for me, the surgeon’s office was nothing but supportive when I went in for the initial consultation. It was insurance that was the problem. Because my word alone wasn’t good enough for the deniers, defenders and deposers, insurance required me to gather two different letters from two different psychiatric professionals asserting that I was committed to ultralighting and therefore ready to shave those precious grams off of my base weight. Dear reader, I’m sure you understand: the rest of the world just doesn’t get folks like us, no matter how much we explain ourselves.

I had to schedule appointments with some therapists, but soon enough I had the two letters of support I needed. Upon forwarding them to the surgeon’s office, I finally got a date on my calendar to circle! Sure, I had several months of waiting to do, but the bureaucratic part was over. Besides, thru-hikers are used to the finish line being months away, aren’t we?

Also: when the big day comes, the hospital even gives you a neat little hat and fashionable socks with extra traction!

Recovery isn’t too hard compared to other procedures; I was cleared to walk and eat whatever I wanted right after discharge. A week later, and I’m itchin’ to get out and train for the trail. And I haven’t gotten to the benefits yet!

The health benefits of a nut-free diet

Let’s start with the obvious. Your base weight is at least 20 grams lighter and always will be. You no longer have to worry about carrying something so clunky and hard to pack away (a good ultralighter never shows bulge!). And for some people, the procedure might bring relief and lower stress; it certainly did for me.

There are athletic benefits to this hack, too. Consider for a moment that many successful thru-hikers have already make use of this hack. Tara Dower, who beat the fastest known time on the Appalachian Trail by 13 hours last year, didn’t even have to undergo a procedure to do so! Now, some might conclude that she possessed an [ahem] “biological advantage” for being born without the extra weight, but I’m not the kind of freak to entertain a term like that. Instead, I’ll repeat an earlier statement: not everyone has the balls to get an orchiectomy.

Furthermore, undergoing this procedure means you won’t have to worry about having children, which would only be a distraction to your thru-hiking aspirations. How the hell are you going to get your Triple Crown when your annoying-ass son keeps wanting to play catch with you? Your most important family members are the bozos you meet on trail: Chumbucket, Fiesta, Pink Lemonade and Just Martin are your polycule, and the only thing y’all are raising is Hell.

But wait! I’m not—

Okay, okay, calm down! I get it, you don’t want to dispose of your comfort items. I mean, I don’t personally get why you’re so attached to them (in the figurative sense, not the literal sense), but there’s a dude out there who carries a log around with him on trail, so I guess we are all entitled to our weird luxury items.

So, after reading this, I want you to sit down and have a talk with yourself. How much do your gonads mean to you, really? Do you really define your manhood based on what you carry? Would you feel less of a man for not having them? Better yet, how much of the manhood bestowed upon you at birth really matters to you? You still have time to try cross-sex hormones and paint your nails and—

Sorry, got ahead of myself there. But you should think about what really matters to you. Ultralighting is a lifestyle that begets some weird choices, and if you’re worried the other boys at the campsite will judge you, tell them you’re more committed to base weight than them. That this is who you are, and that nothing will change that. Hike your own god damn hike, bitch.

Conclusion

While I know the true ultralighters reading this will take full heed of my argument, I’m sure there are members of the general public who are scratching their heads. Whether or not you care about base weight, however, choosing orchiectomy is undoubtedly life-changing, more often than not for the better. The weight savings are just one of many perks that will last a lifetime for the right person, and I hope the hardcore hikers reading this will give it some thought.

Okay, I understand this isn’t good satire, but I’ll go ahead and character. I wrote this article mostly to be a facetious little goblin, but also to demystify a common procedure amongst trans women like myself. The stuff we do to feel more like the women we’re meant to be can sound extreme to the average cis person, for sure. But I guarantee you it’s as normal as can be and the amount of people who live to regret it are statistically significant. It’s more common and less extreme on the body than thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail (I guess I’m an oddity for doing both!).

Transitioning is a lifelong adventure that rivals the greatest hiking trails in significance. I want to give my transition and my thru-hike equal attention. I hope y’all enjoy.

(Tara Dower: if you’re reading this, you’re a queen, please don’t take me seriously <3. Everyone else: this is gospel).