The first time I planned a three-day trek, I packed like I was feeding a small army. Two kilos of pasta, a full block of cheese, a jar of pesto that felt like a brick by the second day. I ate about half of it and carried the rest back out, feeling stupid the whole way.
It took a few trips to learn the arithmetic properly. Food is weight, and weight is pain. But going too light makes you miserable in a different way, especially when the wind picks up and you still have a pass to cross. The trick is finding the middle: enough calories to keep you warm and moving, not so much that your pack groans.
This is a plan I've used on Norwegian weekend routes. It's not fancy. It's mostly shelf-stable, it requires one hot meal a day at most, and it leaves you with something to look forward to on the last afternoon.
Why this plan works
The meals here share a few qualities. They're dry, so they're light. They're calorie-dense, so a small volume does real work. And they don't need much cooking, which matters when you're tired, cold, or standing in a drizzle trying not to drop your spoon.
You'll notice there's no fresh food except the apple and maybe the flatbread. That's deliberate. Fresh stuff is heavy, it bruises, and it goes off in warm weather. On a three-day trip, you don't need it. The dehydrated and shelf-stable stuff tastes better than you'd expect, especially when you've earned it.
The plan assumes you can get water on the trail, which is usually true in Scandinavia. If you're crossing a dry stretch, you'll want to carry more and plan your cooking around known water points.
Day one: the heaviest day
Breakfast: instant oats with dried milk and berries. Just add hot water, stir, wait a minute. The berries add a bit of tartness that cuts through the porridge sweetness.
Lunch on trail: flatbread with cheese and salami. This is the one meal with any heft, and that's fine. You eat it early in the day while your pack is still at its heaviest.
Dinner: dehydrated couscous with olive oil, tuna, and sun-dried tomatoes. The couscous cooks in about five minutes with boiling water. The oil is the important bit, it's the difference between a sad bowl of starch and something that actually satisfies.
Day one is when you have the most energy, so you can afford the slightly heavier food. The flatbread and salami won't feel like a burden on the first morning. By day three, they would.
Day two: the rhythm sets in
Breakfast: granola with powdered milk. No cooking required, just add cold water and eat. Some people prefer it hot, but cold works fine and saves fuel.
Lunch: nut butter wraps and an apple. The apple is your one piece of fresh fruit, and it will taste better than any apple you've ever bought at a shop. I don't know why trail apples are better. They just are.
Dinner: freeze-dried stew, or instant mashed potatoes with dehydrated veg and butter. Both are light, both are fast, and both are the sort of meal you'll crave by the time you're setting up camp. The butter in the mash is non-negotiable. It's what turns it from wallpaper paste into something you'd happily eat at home.
By day two you've settled into the rhythm. You know how much you actually eat, which is usually less than you packed, and you've stopped worrying about the weight on your back.
Day three: go light, go home
Breakfast: muesli bar and coffee. That's it. You're not cooking, you're not cleaning up, you're just eating something quick and getting moving.
Lunch: remaining trail mix and jerky. Whatever's left in your bag, basically. This is the day for eating down your reserves.
Dinner: eat in town or at a DNT hut. Pack light for the final push. This is the smartest part of the whole plan. You don't need to carry dinner on the last day if there's food at the end of the trail. It saves weight, and it gives you something to look forward to when the path gets boring.
The final day is about finishing well. You want to arrive with energy to spare, not crawling out on fumes.
The gear that makes it work
- A lightweight stove and a 100g fuel canister. That's enough for two hot meals a day on a three-day trip. If you're only cooking dinner, it'll last even longer.
- A collapsible bowl and a long-handled spoon. The bowl packs flat. The long handle means you don't burn your fingers when stirring. Both are worth their small weight.
- Zip bags for pre-measured ingredients. Portion everything before you leave home. One bag per meal, labelled if you're organised, or just arranged in order if you're not. This saves time, fuel, and the annoyance of guessing how much rice you need when you're hungry.
How much to actually pack
Aim for 2,500 to 3,500 kcal per day. The exact number depends on distance and temperature. A short summer stroll with mild weather sits at the low end. A long push over exposed ground in a cold wind sits at the high end.
Here's the honest part: most people overpack. I've done it plenty of times. The plan above works, but you'll probably still bring a bit extra because you're nervous about being hungry. That's fine. The mistake is bringing two kilos of "just in case" food and then carrying it over every hill.
A good rule from experience: if you're not a little hungry when you arrive at camp, you packed too much. If you're starving, you packed too little. The sweet spot is somewhere in between, and you'll find it after a few trips.
The other thing worth remembering is that calories do more than fuel your legs. They keep you warm. In cold weather, your body burns energy just to maintain temperature, and if you're not eating enough, you'll feel the cold more keenly. A hot dinner isn't just a comfort, it's part of your warmth system.
So buy your zip bags, measure your portions, and resist the urge to add that extra chocolate bar. You'll be glad you did by the time the trail starts climbing. And if you do pack one anyway, eat it on the summit.
About Erik Lindqvist
Erik Lindqvist is a Scandinavian trail guide and outdoor writer based in Norway. He has spent fifteen years hiking fjord paths, mountain ridges, and forest tracks across Norway, Sweden, and Iceland.