Perusing the Forums for a few gear recommendations, I took a wild trip through the mysterious "curmudgeon zone".  
Bike-Packing is theoretically fun, and can be a blast with proper preparation, But it's possible to age out of this sport without knowing the lexicon of why.
Preparedness to go it alone into the wilderness, or merely rural America, doesn't require the Prep a "Prepper" may do in anticipation for the  next apocalyptical MAGA revolution. ...But proper preparations will verify one has Just what is needed, and nothing more, for this adventure. This process assures Comfort (and every practical chance of survival), while counting ounces, to prevent becoming a soggy "Pack-Tard".
​When you have everything laid out, you'll again begin to purge back all the sundry shit that definitely wont get used, and is for sure not needed.  These tableaus of sundry shit are way popular so I thought I'd quantify just what you will not need, once you delve into the rabbit-hole of 'Bike-Packing'. There is always room to reduce your pack volume.  This is where you may decide, (for example), That the Saw, The Axe, Air-conditioner, Bug-zapper, Camp-Chair,  and your neglected pack-raft, need to stay behind.   ​

 'Bikepacking' would like to remind you that this is No country for old men.
But these are smug fucks from Berkley, and The Outer Sunset, and not practitioners from enchanted tribes of indigenous American bush-craft.  Just pot-heads slinging Instagram moments on radically ordinary geri-bikes.
The Bike-Packing Curmudgeon Zone reminds me of a few college bike co-ops, where I would become a "member" to access a work-stand, a truing-stand, or a few spendy tools I didn't have the money to buy. These primitive peoples were never "My Crowd" and they were not genuinely life affirming, nor very welcoming -- Any more than a crabby bike shop Mechanic is today.  In fact it is proven that basically every Bike shop mechanic is genetically linked to this prehistoric Co-op's ancient DNA, which formed the silent resentful tribe of the first Curmudgeon Peoples from what is now The Franco-Italian Monegasque Riviera. (A Border area between current Italy and France, where banners still wave for Pantani, and Merckx.
People like to sugar coat things while evoking the Term "Birth-Channel" -- As in, "I came into adulthood fully formed through the "Birth-Channel" of perhaps the world's most dysfunctional Bike Shop.  Mick Jaggar, famously used the endearment "Toothless Bearded Hag"... But whatever your right of passage, it's fair to tell you that I know a few things about what I speak.  It is also bad form to diminish any mother with such a grotesque idiom.
​I know, Right?

Anyway, I have been immersed in the back-bile of the bike shop ooze, and have formed views from the walls of that passage. Perhaps I'd tagged those walls myself.  Today, as a veteran, I can say that Mechanically speaking -- Bike shops are a sort of galactic incubator for Odd Fuckers. Each one with an ankle bracelet made by KMC. Which has a lot to do with why they struggle so much. Smart ones come and go, but lifers become the wrench. Much like your favorite coffee shop -- Where else can you regularly be insulted, berated, and flat out loathed before Noon? All while a smug fuck side-eyes you for a 28% tip on your parents debit card?  
​
And so back to History 102: At the last half of the 19th century; starting perhaps with Wilbur Wright, in America's pursuit of a bike that can fly -- Wacky creations were coming hot and fast. Perhaps as rapidly as the primitive glottal stops born from shop mechanic failures and frustration the Franco-Sussex language tilted into full-monty-expletives, such as "What the fuck do you think this bike needs Ma'am?" to, "Just Don't Talk, I'm the F.N. Mechanic here, Emkay Brah?"   This is how the modern Brand "Muc-Off" adapted their kitschy lube brand from the ancient Latin Noun: "Velo Mech" whose etymology stems from the Proto-French Phrase: "Va te faire foutre,  which is the Old franco-anglo term for "Fuck-Off" So 'Fuck Off', is where bike-packing gear searches will lead you. This slippery slope may be similar to searches for P.C.T., and A.T. Adventure gear.  To come of age in a millieu where D-Bags pretend to own the master recording, and are not selling any records, is a headache of inclusive High-fives.  Fun Fact... There is no secret sauce to Bike-Packing.  One need only bring a sense of adventure, on a normal bike, sporting a bag and tent, to get into the club. It turns out that you don't have to lean toward wacky, not tilt toward the lycra skin-suit. You can have it all as soon as you step out that door.

Fast forward three decades where I now own basically every imaginable tool, and bike gadget -- The trick becomes to pare down all these "necessities" like the axe, and the bar end mirror, back to "the essentials".  Today, forums such as BikePacking Dot Com lean heavily into that gothic rock genre of sporting Flannel, Waxed-Cotton, Tarp-Camping and some strange-ass bespoke cargo-bikes; Most with small front wheels. What you may not find there, is a modern gravel bike, a drop bar bike, or a self styled bike-packing bike. What you will discover is a lot of gear recommendations adorning hard-tail mountain bikes.
Here comes the fairy-tale overlap with that 'One High-school guy' who'd alleged to be listening to vinyl from bands who, "hadn't yet been formed". Later he would become your neighborhood Bike Mechanic.  Obscure bike Brands,  "...you couldn't possibly know of", peddled for obscurity's-sake.  Once you enter this coven, resentment rears for riding any more "main-stream rig" on actual road-ways.  Bike Packing needn't bend so far into the Brooks zone, as it has -- However there is definitely a deep damp musky Birkenstock scent which pervades this subculture. As for popular websites, which masquerade as Granola-Grungy, while taking huge sponsor dollars and paid click-ads to send people deep into odd-ball remote bleakness -- BikePacking is at the apex of it's curmudgeon game -- Balancing the canvas Circus tent with Dyneema.

I now have a list of shit you wont ever need, and a clever drone shot of bike-packing bag-filler bull-shit, which you could leave at home.  None of which is needed if you simply wish to ride your bike for days and days from Hotel to Hotel.  If interested in a "BikePacking" Adventure... And you have the fortitude to converse with an actual Bike Mechanic -- Well then, we can help outfit you... But you will have to stand bare before the curmudgeon bike-packing troll, who now runs this blog, to be told that you are doing it all wrong. 
All Fucking Wrong.

A Bike-Packing Bicycle starts with a 3x throwback mechanical, cable actuated mech shifted at the bar-ends, using CNC'd deraileur technology from an Santa Barbara Brand you may never have heard of. Your frame began as a forest green 531 frame that is now adorned with vintage kit. This is basically a stretched clown version of a 26'r Mountain Bike, with a 20" front wheel, a flat bar, and a recumbent seat.  The Panniers are riding low as balls on a rack which was [Naturally] hand-jigged and fillet-brazed in Portland. While the waxed fabric Bags are spun on a Loom by Amish Widows in Massachusetts, [Wherever the fuck that is].  The Water Bottles and cages are Stainless steel Bidons c. 1906, while The paint and solution Dyed fabrics are made from foraged berries, Flax, and bees wax.  Your Chain is braided from a blonde Mennonite virgin's pigtails.  The rest of your shit comes from (carbon-neutral) Brooklyn, by bike messengers,  Naturally... without the use of deisel, or BPA's (you fucking jag-off!).
What the Velominati are to Road Cycling, the Bike Mechanic is to Bike-Packing, so prepare for the tongue-lashing, and beware that you do not actually ask a question you don't already know the answer to. 
...And, Hey! Fuck the fuck off". 
In full due respect to "BikePacking Dot Com" many noteworthy Bike Mechanics, and Those interesting fuckers who sprinkle color over gobs of black carbon sameness -- It is fair to say that these resources, are useful, enriching, and entertaining and not without merit.
For the rest of us, this list could suffice to get you there on a real bike. stuffing all of this in Apidura Bags, and using the most magical of all corporate accessories, which is linked here: Topeak Backloader (anti-sway attachment).
Unless you have a credit card, and then you could choose to hotel hop. (You Fascist Cunt!)
Please Enjoy!
This is my "Bike Packing" Kit.
Tent: Big Agnes Pitch Pine 1.5 VST poles packed separately in TT Bag
Bag: Sea to Summit Spark 7c
Stakes: BA Alum
Spare Stakes: ZPacks Carbon UL
Tent Footprint: BA PitchPine
Tent Bag and Pillow:
Dyneema ZPacks UL Polartech UL fleece reversible
Straps: By Voile Straps
Complete Dry Meal Nutrition: Huel Thai Green Curry etc.
Eyewear: Cheap Tifosi Photochromic
Cap: Rapha or Any basic
Rain coat: Santini Magic Pocketable
Lights: Trek Zion 200 2x Front and Rear
EM Poncho: SOL reflective
Gels and Powders:
SIS Go Electrolye Isotonic Liquid IV
Windbreaker: Rapha Pack Light Tiny Jersey Pocketable
Gloves: REI GoreTex Mitten, Rapha High Reglective Light, Santini Polartech Alpha
Sleep Pad: ThermaRest NeoAir Uberlite
Pad Pump: Flextail 2.0 1 oz
EM blanket/ Tarp: Space Blanket Gold
Battery Pack Flextail Carbon, SRAM Battery knock-off By FaceRide
Mini Waterproof Bag:
by ZPacks Dyneema
Locks: Abus Boris Lite Mini 6055c, Retractable Cable Lock 4 digit
Bike Pump: CycPlus Ultra 2.0
Headlamp: Fenix NM50R 2.0
Navi Computer: Coros Dura
Axe: Gransfors Bruk Pocket.
Stove: MSR Windburner w JetBoil Micro Mo Burner, and Tank.
Cup: Snow Peak Ti handle w Hot Lips
Coffee Dripper: GSI Pakable no filter needed
EM Kit: Adventure Medical Ultralite .5 w Extra Bandages.
Pocket Knife: Kershaw Leek Sandvik 1660CBBW Smiths Sharpener
FireStarter: SOL Flint Sparker
Dry Lube: Gemini Fluid
Spare Tubes: WTB and Schwalbe Aerothane
Wipes: Off Full DEET and Botanicals, NeoSporin, Flents ISO
Pocket Tool:
WolfTooth Complete Compact
Bad Guy Repellant: CN TearGas and Pepper by Byrna
Helmet: Giro Spherical,
Illumination by Trek ION 200 light

Show me a kid struggling above poorly set training wheels and I will despair for the future. Show me an innertube, and I will show you a problem which didn't need fixing. 
Show me a throttle bike and I will show you how a good stick fits neatly between the spokes.
Show me a vintage Steel Bike and I will extoll it's obsolete yet elegant virtues. 
Show me a new gadget, and I will destroy it, just to see how it had been made, and once worked. 
But Show me a  Shaved-kitten Tri-geek in a skin-suit pumping their Shiv-Machine under a mirrored lens aero helmet -- Water bottle tucked neatly between their ass cheeks, and I will show you someone who should perhaps learn to swim better.

​Scientists don't know for certain which happened first  -- That you are born a douche, or that your aero-bike made you that way

The extent to which all of that Aerodyne wizardry will benefit anyone is of course measurable, but still witchcraft., and a total waste of Carbon.  The extent to which victory in full aero mode will bring you lasting joy is dubious.
Just to build it, means that engineering gets a shot at marketing's job. But, As for the slicing through the wind part, the aero, Tri-geek, Time-trial course always remains levelled out, and the corners always softened.  Even in trainer mode... The Tri-geek mounts a Wahoo, where courses are straight and flat as Kansas.  Aero Bullshit and Circling the drain for watts is reserved for Keirin, the Velodrome, and the muddy finish of Paris to Roubaix.  Aero is the Dolby Atmos of Bike shit. 9.2 channels of sound that nobody asked for, nobody has room for, and that a Pair of kick-ass speakers did way better three decades prior.

In ancient times, the classique Drop bar bike allowed the rider to utilize "The Drops"

Aero, Like the dumbest part of a stage race, happens in full frontal, like a figure skater conned into a stupid leotard, at the last moment. T.T. happens when everybody agrees to quit the peloton, have a nap, grab a sandwich, and then take turns riding down a plywood ramp sporting bad fashion just to give aero-engineers their lap-dance in broad daylight. If Keirin is a heritage of Aero done right, and TT is a group hug and a blue star for, softies -- Then Tri-Geek Aero, is the undoing of what once made cycling cool.  It never gets easier, you just go faster, so why use a motor, or a crutch?  To simulate being faster.

The D-Bags you'd hated on the bike path, (You know the ones who'd cursed and spit on kids for learning to ride their bikes far too slowly?) now get a chance to podium, Which is is well and fine, but... Fucking Lame!
Tri-Bikes are fucking silly, full-stop. end of story -- And Time Trials in a Grand Tour are a bit like stopping Le Mans for a nappy, followed by a light snack, just before wiping mayo from one's mouth, and sprinting for the finish on foot, all Ricky Bobby style. There is Simply no sporting fun during the pretense of a land-speed record -- When you actually came to edge out your competition elbow to elbow.  And there is no legitimate reason one could not do the same exhaustive, and un-fun dance far more elegantly,  without the Cat-woman skin-suit. 

Bikes are fun, learning to ride is fun, being a cyclist is kinda-cool, and fun, and even a bit edgy and sexy --  If you do it right.  But when you 'kind of suck,' and you ride stupidly , and are measuring watts, and cadence, and when your shades are built into your aero helmet,  and you are yelling at young kids and strollers along an otherwise blissful bike path, Then you have alas become the aero-choad, who resents cycling.

In ancient times, the classique Drop bar bike allowed the rider to utilize (wait for it)...  "The Drops", to lower ones drag relative to oncoming resistant winds, and even to pull ones elbows inward, and lower ones head to cut more resistance, and to foil the wind.  For Nearly a century Cyclists have even learned how to zip up their jersey to reduce wind pocketing upon their chest, reducing wind drag, to go faster.  To Go Faster, has nothing to do with Watts, Aero Bars, Cadence, Internally routed sippy-cups, and one-piece anything.  Going Faster is a matter of hardening the fuck up, and Hard Men roll Cyclocross, and perhaps pull a pack in the Peloton. They certainly do not write a number on each of eight limbs using a greasy marker, only to charge out of the water and board an Aero-Bike.      
​
​Rule Number 42:  A bike race shall never be preceded with a swim nor followed by a run. 

Researchers have uncovered several new secrets in aerodynamics, using the fitment of Kam-tail Shaping, In-molded carbon foils, and internally routed cables hoses and sippy straws to defy the wind, and to make bikes insanely shitty to work on. Studies using FEA (Finite Element Analysis) and Laminar Boundary surface treatments now improve break-up and flow, dynamically making fucktards just a wee bit faster, and bikes more stupider.

Scientists don't know for certain which happened first  -- That you are born a douche, or that your aero-bike made you that way, but It is now considered likely that people hate you, and you them...simply because you've brought home your second Aero Bike.  Aero Bikes are a currency spent on a problem nobody has, and perhaps in pursuit of something else missing in one's life. It is because of you, of course -- And also because of your Aero Gains, that you've shaved legs, grams, watts, and perhaps shaved the joy right out of cycling for everyone.

Aero is Bullshit!

Aero is Still Bullshit.

   P.S.  Learn to swim faster.