I woke up in the snow.
The tent zipper was stiff with cold. The layer I had slept in is the only reason I stayed in the bag until the sun was up.
That was one kind of trip. Another put me in first class on a premium airline, in a seat that had nothing to do with a camp stove. I have also taken a rickshaw through rush hour. I have camped in the desert.
I have been traveling since eighth grade, across more than fifty countries and forty-nine of the fifty US states. I have lived in fourteen cities around the world. I hiked a hundred miles in the wilderness by myself. I am a dad of six.
The gear that held up was the piece packed for the day I was actually in. The warm layer on that snow morning. A shirt I could still wear in the first-class seat.
What failed was the piece I brought because it had worked somewhere else. The snow layer was useless weight in the desert. City shoes were wrong for that hundred-mile hike.
A carry-on that was enough when I traveled alone stopped being enough once six kids were coming too. A family trip is a pile of smaller trips, and the bag has to keep up with all of them.
How I choose what goes on the list
I read the maker's page. If it prints a weight or a size, that number goes in the note, with a link back to the page. If the page never states it, I leave the line blank.
Then I sort the pick by who is going and how they will move. A meeting does not get a sleeping bag. A trail does not get the shirt from the first-class seat.
Start from the trip you are taking.
The traveler journeys sort the lists by who is going. The trip planner builds one list from a short description of the trip.