Backpacking North

To the Lake Which Isn't There

2012-01-01T01:01:00.001-06:00

I felt like I'd been cooped up for months. I hadn't – I'd been out on dog walks daily – but still: I longed for the white silence. The feeling of being out in the cold, alone.

And yet, at the same time, I was nervous about it all. The lack of any real outdoorsiness in my life for the last few months left me with an odd feeling of unpreparedness. I had all my gear, but whenever I ventured into the basement, the abundance of base layers and gloves just confused me. Which shirt should I wear? What mid-layer would be appropriate? My indecision turned into procrastination; I'll figure it out tomorrow.

When the year came to an end, I decided to delay it no longer. I dug in to my crate of clothes and pulled out a few potential items that might be appropriate for the weather (-10ºC, calm) and conditions (50cm of pure white snow; myself... unfit), chose what to wear, and stuffed the rest in my pack. It was time to go. I'd make it a fact-finding mission to figure out what to wear in Lapland, and to reacquaint myself with my skis and other goodies.

It had almost been a year since I skied last, and even then I'd only just started using the Madshus Eons. And skiing around Minneapolis is a far cry from the Lapland wilderness, where, in fact, I'd never really skied at all (outside of tracks). But this was why I purchased the Eons – I find skiing in tracks tedious and joyless.

I headed to Vennivaara, an area a few kilometers north-west of Rovaniemi, where the pylons and accoutrements of the city give way to the wilderness; the last post of civilisation before the wild takes over. I've recently started taking the dog out here, but the area is still fairly unfamiliar. The land is criss-crossed in summer by the occasional forestry road, and in winter bisected by a single ski trail. After 10 km of treacherous and scary un-ploughed road, I parked the car, kitted up, and headed off into the forest.

As I didn't have a map, I carried my GPS (with it's woefully inadequate global basemap) and compass just in case. I've found I get a little confused in forest there, but I know that if I head far enough east I'll hit the ski trail eventually, so I can't go far wrong. And I'm not planning a week long expedition anyway – just an afternoon of meandering.

Vennivaara is an excellent testing ground for the, ahem, less experienced skier. Roling forest with little in the way of hills – perfect to get my ski legs back again before I push myself a little harder (an instructor friend has promised to educate me a little in the sacred ways of telemark).

Start cold, they always say, and in Lapland you can't fail to do that. I'd decided that my old Haglöfs base layer would pair nicely with the First Ascent Bat Hang I picked up before I left. The Bat Hang is supposedly "expedition weight", but I generally take that description with a pinch of salt. It's usually only used by the bigger brands in an attempt to gain some street cred.

I followed the trail of a previous explorer which seemed to be going in the general direction I wanted to go.

I soon warmed up – a little too much perhaps. I'd made the mistake of also wearing a very thin soft shell which frankly I didn't really need. I could have got by with just the base layer and Bat Hang, as the two in combination seemed to deal with perspiration nicely (the Haglöfs synthetic base layer dries very quickly).

Another downside to the gear was that, criminally, none of the items had thumb loops! I really must learn how to use a sewing machine so I can improvise my own on all miscreant gear. The Haglöfs top was also annoyingly too short. A winter base layer should stay tucked in.

This was the first time that my gaiters proved essential. I generally shy away from using them, but in deep snow they are vital, and performed their simple task efficiently.

After some twists and turns and a moment of feeling lost, I checked the GPS and headed to a more familiar area, so I could get a bearing on the point I'd decided I wanted to reach: an old cabin by a lake which doesn't appear on Google maps or the GPS (a worrying oversight as it's not a small lake).

A little hot and sweaty, I put on my medium-weight Halti down jacket. I'd decided to take instead of my MontBell Ex Light as I find the Ex Light os only good to around -5ºC. It's also very short in the torso, and much more suited as a three-season UL alternative to a fleece. For the future I have my eye on a Rab Infinity, which I hope would be both warm and light enough for a Lapland winter. But for now, the Halti is sufficient: not the best quality, but it's warm, long enough, and has a (removable) hood.

I shook off the skis, took out my z-Lite sit pad, and prepared to meet another old friend... my kuksa.

Sipping a hot Russian Earl Grey, I sit and find what I came for: white silence. Not a sound to be heard. A smile spread over my face, contemplating the last few months, my stress levels falling away.

I was surprisingly comfortable in the cold, but that's what a little exercise does for you. Maybe I'll come back here for a night someday soon, but I've already planned to visit another nearby destination for my first overnighter back in Finland.

The sun, hidden behind a veil of clouds, was beginning to set; the light turning bluer and murkier. It'd soon be dark, and as I wasn't in the mood for a night ski through unfamiliar woods, I decided to pack up and head back, refreshed.

I found a snowmobile track and sped along at a fair clip back to the car – it's much easier to ski on snowmobile tracks than to walk on them.

Back at the car I checked the GPS again, reluctant to drive back the way I'd come. It looked shorter back to the road if I continued, but the driving was as slippery and hairy as before, even with AWD.

After I eventually hit a ploughed section, the road curved around back to Rovaniemi. In the distance, the lights from the Ounasvaara ski resort twinkled in the otherwise grey landscape. As I drove home I realised I really do live in a winter wonderland. And this year, I aim to take advantage of it.

Merry Christmas from Backpacking North

2011-12-24T06:21:00.001-06:00

It's been six weeks since I last posted, so a quick, brandy-laced update is in order.

First: we're back in Lapland! After what seems like six months of preparations and travelling (and in fact, was six months of preparations and travelling) we arrived back in Finland mid-November, then back in Lapland at the start of December. Last week our belongings finally arrived, including my skis and showshoes which I was overjoyed to see.

You'll no doubt have noticed the lack of posts, and the observant might have wondered about my reduced presence on twitter (or at least on @bckpckingNorth). Between moving, my new job (shameless advert), and the baby there's simply not been much time for anything else. Plus of course backpacking is not made easy when all your gear is stuck on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic.

Nevertheless, we're here now, and things are looking more and more promising as the days go by.

It's good to be home!

Although posts have been few and far between this year, I'm hoping to get back to something more regular next year. In January I'm planning a small trip somewhere near Rovaniemi. Recently I've been less and less interested in new gear, mainly because moving back from the 'States consumes a vast amount of money.

It's interesting though that, now I'm back, I feel the need to reassess my winter clothing needs. I'm lacking a decent pair of UL boots good for Lapland. I know I could try light shoes and vapour barriers, but in all honesty, it doesn't feel like the way to go (for me). If anyone has an recommendations please lave them in the comments!

The Ultralight Makeover series will also continue after it's brief hiatus. Next up is an edition on trail food and cooking. I recently put a call out on twitter for recipes, but I'll repeat it here: if anyone would like to contribute any of their favourite trail recipes please either email me or leave something in the comments. The recipes must be geared towards ultralight backpacking. I think a special "recipe section" from the blogosphere would be pretty cool.

All that remains now (before I return to unpacking boxes and finding a place for the bizarro treasures found within) is to wish every one a merry Christmas, and a happy new year – or happy holidays, whatever tickles your fancy!

Now... there's ham in the oven, glöggi on the stove, and presents to wrap and unwrap :)

The End of America

2011-11-09T09:34:00.001-06:00

Dramatic title, huh? Well don't worry, it's simply a case of all good things coming to an end; in this case (a large over-stuffed suitcase) my three years in America are drawing rapidly to a close. The countdown to MSP > HEL is down into single digits, the apartment is almost empty, goodbyes are being said, and the time for reminiscence is upon us. And so I offer a trip report of another kind – a look back over three years in America.

It ain't so different (except when it is).
Coming from Lapland, where -30ºC is not uncommon in winter, our arrival in the midst of a cold Minnesota winter wasn't so much of a shock, and yet somehow it felt colder. Maybe it was because we didn't have a car and had to walk everywhere. Once, Minneapolis enjoyed a vast tram network that rattled around the city, but the automobile industry had different ideas about that. Today it's almost impossible to get by without a car. The layout of Minneapolis (as with many American cities, a few obvious coastal cities excepted) is so dissipated and anti-center you often have to drive from one side of the city to another just to complete a simple errand – and in Minneapolis, that distance can be well over 10 miles.

A typical road in Minneapolis.

Fortunately, we have a local coop within walking distance, so we've mostly been able to avoid regular journeys to the strip malls and corporate behemoths. Healthy organic food comes at a price, but in a country where corn syrup seems to mysteriously find its way into almost every edible product, I think it's been worth it. The coop has been an oasis of culinary delights: Organic pop tarts? Check! Elk and wild mushroom sausages? Check! I don't think I've ever eaten so well.

Of course, that means I didn't get to enjoy delights such as this...

WTF moment #1. Why? Because we can! Sadly, these were not available in the organic coop.

But back to the issue of the cold. As I said, Lapland prepares you for the cold, but Lapland is also prepared for the cold. The apartments in Finland have triple-glazed windows, central heating, and are heated well enough to be able to comfortably hang out in t-shirts in mid-winter. Minnesotan winters are not so dissimilar to Finnish winters, so why isn't triple glazing standard? The first house we stayed in house didn't even have double glazing! It was like living in England, but with the added excitement of truly arctic conditions. The landlord (whom incidentally, was English, so maybe that explains it) told us she regularly turned the thermostat down to 52F (11ºC!!!!) at night to save on heating costs, and many people we visited wore their hats indoors.

Fortunately, however, there are highly efficient insulation systems which easily can be added to your house so solve all these problems:

WTF moment #2: The insulating properties of cling film are well known in America.

Yes, by simply attaching cling film to your windows, your house will be transformed into a paradise of warmth.

While Minnesotans have yet to discover the joys of triple glazing, they have managed to improve significantly on one cold weather sport: endurance fishing. In Finland, ice-fishing is a frigid and lonely activity. Wrapped in as many insulating layers as you can reasonably pile on without compromising your ability to move limbs, you sit out on the ice, shivering, watching the hole you made slowly freeze over, in the vain hope that you might catch something still alive and actually worth eating before you die of hypothermia.

It's surprising, then, that the resourceful Finns haven't yet come up with a solution to ease their suffering (on the other hand...) but fear not: Minnesota has the answer! It is simple and quite brilliant: huts on ice.

Lake Minnetonka Art Shanties, based on fishermen's huts.

The fishers of Minnesota drag out small wooden huts onto the ice and fish inside them. They put a little heater in there, bring along a tv or radio, maybe even a cooker for the deep fried ravioli, and they sit comfortably in the warm, while they fish inside the hut. Come on Finland! Pull your socks up! This is serious innovation! Why has nobody thought of this?

A little history
Ah, the Mississippi! I live barely a hundred meters from its banks, and my daily walk with Rufus (my English Springer Spaniel) along the bluffs and shore has kept me sane on many an occasion.

The state purchased much of the Mississippi shoreline so it's possible to enjoy peace and seclusion in the middle of the city, watch bald eagles swoop over the treetops, and even spot coyotes, beavers and other, ahem, "wildlife"...

Wondering what those "certain offenses" are? This is a family blog.
Let's just say that ships aren't the only things cruising the Mississippi.

While walking along the riverbanks I often like to imagine what America would have been like without, well, America. All the roads as we know them today have been built in the last 150 years or so. The concrete jungle stretches as far as the eye can see and much, much further. All of that has been written upon the landscape, but occasionally, along the bluffs, you get a brief glimpse of what it might have all been like when Native Americans still roamed the land. In rare pockets of oak savannah, it's still possible to get a sense of what has been lost; to imagine gently rolling plains instead of block after block of poorly-insulated housing.

In general, all that business with the Native Americans isn't really talked about. As they say, it is what it is. Better to brush it under the table. Take a look at this historical marker from Fort Snelling:

Aside from the utterly awesome name of Zebulon Pike, this sign is an interesting example historical revisionism. "Grey Cloud Island," we're told, "was known for its supernatural woods." Well, that's not entirely true – for the Dakota is was the location of their foundation myth: the place where the world began. The marker seems to suggest it was more like Sleepy Hollow. But never mind, Colonel Henry Leavenworth found it a good campsite, so that's all right then.

Also, you just have to love the matter-of-fact description of Prairie Island:

"The home of the Prairie Island Dakota Indian Community, who share it with a nuclear power plant."

Lucky them. "We'll happily let you live on this small patch of land, but please don't touch the isotopes."

In all fairness, the Finns did a pretty good job of oppressing Europe's last indigenous people, the Sàmi, through programs of re-location and language eradication.

But enough about all this depressing stuff. Let's go west!

A Road Trip
Definitely one of the highlights of our stay was a two week road trip through the Dakotas to Montana and Wyoming. It's impossible to really understand the scale of America until you try to traverse it. Distances on unfamiliar maps appear much shorter (miles always sound a lot less than kilometers) but as the landscape opens up in front of you, the true breadth of this country reveals itself.

After finally getting to Bozeman (notable for the location of first contact with Vulcans, and Backpacking Light HQ) we made the obligatory trip to Yellowstone.

The National Parks have been referred to as America's Best Idea. I don't disagree, although I would say that designing America's Best Idea around the car was maybe not the smartest move. I know many freedom-loving Americans disagree with me on this on the grounds that the parks' directive is to make nature accessible, but there are other ways to make wild areas accessible without subjecting them to millions of cars every year.

All of Yellowstone's most famous sights are accessed via a vast figure 8 road loop which gets congested with the millions of annual visitors stopping to catch a glimpse of wildlife.

Although visitors are repeatedly warned not to leave their vehicles and approach animals, the merest whiff of a Grizzly Bear results in a comical roadside frenzy:

Contrary to the advice given by rangers, the best method for getting that photograph of a Grizzly and her cub is to encourage small children to run toward them with gay abandon.

WTF moment #3: Children approach Grizzly mother and cub

The strategy never fails.

Satisfied Grizzlies, having just eaten fresh child flesh

Around and around they go, driving that figure eight loop in huge Winnebagos. The campsites are the location of a daily scramble as people shuttle from one site to another early in the morning. We learned the hard way that all the sites fill up by 10am. And yet less than one percent of visitors venture beyond the campsites and car parks into the wild.

I'm not saying that I'm any better – but we had a dog with us, and the rules prohibit venturing with pets beyond the roadside. Rufus had to stay in the car when we wanted to go anywhere else.

The park is spectacular. The volcanic caldera spews up delights and contrasts all over the park. A sudden hot spring here, a bulbous mineral deposit there. These are sights unseen in Europe, and rarely seen on such a grand scale elsewhere.

There's loads to see in Yellowstone, but the West is a big place, so we headed down to Jackson to explore Wyoming a little.

While Jackson itself is a little over the top (befitting the winter ski & tourist industry), the area around it is beautiful. Some of you might be aware that in one of my other lives I'm a scriptwriter, and the image below is almost exactly how I imagined the location for a Western I wrote (which will likely never get made).

I can almost see my characters riding through the hills, exacting their revenge and avoiding encounters with mountain lions.

It was great to finally give Rufus a chance to run around also. After three days in Yellowstone cooped up in the car, he had a wild time running up and down the hills.

This is another reason I'm looking forward to returning to Lapland – the ability to let my dog get some decent exercise off leash. While there are places in Minneapolis where I let him run (illegally), the options to let dogs be dogs are limited. The dog parks are not particularly pleasant, and tend to encourage abnormal, aggressive behavior in dogs (and some owners) – creating a vicious cyclic argument that feeds back into limiting off-leash areas. It's a shame. I feel that when dogs are allowed to be dogs, they tend to be better behaved. Is it any surprise that dogs become unpredictable when we limit their freedom to a tiny dog park?

Oh, well. Guess I won't be going for hike after all.

Over the snow-capped mountains we go on our way through Wyoming, driving past dude ranches and cowboy country, the Teton National Forest and the Gros Ventre wilderness. This is the big country of Annie Proulx's short stories: bold, empty, beautiful. Of all the places I've been in the US, this was the place I most wanted to return. I imagined an odd alternative life here, as I suppose many have in the past.

Epic landscapes to be explored north of Dubois

I felt an odd affinity with Dubois, Wyoiming, an odd little town pitched between the Wind River Range and a the Shostone National Forest. Maybe it was because I bumped into the Chief of Police in the local store with his kids. He seemed like a nice chap. Or maybe it was the magic of the Jackalope. Who knows...

WTF moment #4: The Jackalope

It's unrealistic to think I could ever eke out a living there, but it's nice to dream.

Sadly, Dubois was only a pit stop. The road and America's wide open spaces beckoned. Who wouldn't want to stop in Thermopolis, location of the world's largest mineral hot spring? (I don't know how true that claim is – what about Iceland or Turkey?) We took to the waters, their sulphuric aroma becoming quite pleasant after a while. I forgot to take off my wedding ring, and found it had corroded from cheapskate silver into a rather attractive matt gold.

But while exploring the hills around Thermopolis I became frustrated again. I could see a vast countryside around me, all inaccessible. The ranch owners had put up fences marking their land, a common sight on the entire journey, in fact. It's a far cry from the Nordic countries "everyman's rights" which allow you to walk and camp wherever you want as long as you don't disturb private property. Imagine seeing such vast country calling to you, and then to find it fenced off, tantalisingly out of reach. It's heartbreaking.

I needed a lift, so we headed to one of my film-geek cultural highlights.

Devil's Tower, location of a close encounter of the third kind. To my joy there was a campsite in the grounds of the monument, so we were able to lie back in our tent and watch the sun cast alpenglow-stlye rays over the sculpted mashed-potato. Rufus had a well-earned opportunity to run amok too.

Best of all, the campsite screens the movie every night. It was every bit as I remembered – excellent first half, boring second half. What can you do? It was the 70s.

Like many places, Devil's Tower is a sacred place for Native Americans. And this was a sacred day on which, "it is hoped that climbers will respect traditions and refrain from climbing".

Here's an interesting fact: did you know that the prairie dogs running around the grounds of Devil's Tower (and the Badlands) have the plague? Yep, that plague!

Bring out your dead!

We continued the cultural stage of the tour by briefly visiting Mount Rushmore (I don't think we really need any photos) before moving on to Deadwood. Wonderful TV series. Godawful town. Apparently Kevin Costner owns half the casinos that have transformed a place of historical interest into a seedy cheesefest, in which case he has a lot to answer for. The dead forest around the town was interesting, but the graveyard was where I was heading. The final resting place for Wild Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane, and, for the dedicated fan of the show (dedicated enough to climb to the top of the hill), Seth Bullock.

Having had our fill of disappointing Deadwood, we headed off again to find desolation in Badlands. I suppose this was another destination for the film geek in me (if you haven't seen Terrence Malick's Badlands, you have missed a masterpiece), but the contrast of this landscape to everything that came before or afterwards is stunning.

This is simply an otherworldly place – the closest you are likely to come to walking on another planet.

Swelteringly hot, dry as a bone, and yet still habited by resilient life – hares, rattlesnakes, bighorn sheep, bison.

Looks cute, but it probably caught bubonic plague from a prairie dog.

I vowed to return with my backpack.

Eventually though, all road trips lead to one place: home.

Seward, Minneapolis. It's a lot bigger in real life.

Of course, there's a whole lot of MInnesota to explore beyond the confines of the Twin Cities.

Duluth has always held a vague interest for me, although I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just because when you say it and impersonate Hannibal Lecter, it just sounds cool – "Duh-looth" – or maybe it's because my favourite band is from there – Low (if you're interested, check out The Curtain Hits the Cast for starters).

Beyond Duluth lie the great backwoods of the Boundary Waters and forests "Up North".

That be Canada

Lake Superior is a vast body of water. Cold year round, but crystal clear. Before visiting the Porcupine Mountains in Michigan we spent a great few days in a beach cabin with views like this:

I got to spend time filming one of our art installations near Ely (voted best small town in America!).

We had a few exhibitions in the US while we've been here. The end result of that shoot was presented in Minneapolis.

Installing Some we kept, some we threw back, our installation about immigration and refugees, drawing
parallels between the migration of Finns to America and international immigration today.

We were also lucky to show another installation as part of an exhibition organized by the Finnish Embassy and Cultural Center in New York. It even got pretty awesome reviews.

I'd long wanted to go to New York, and it was everything I expected, with a little extra on the side.

Gotham City afforded me plenty of opportunities to indulge my inner film geek too (water treatment scene from Marathon Man, anyone? Cloverfield sets?), and an urban hike along the length of Broadway (with a few excursions into Chinatown, Central Park etc) was fascinating. It's definitely the most European-feeling places that I visited. It felt familiar somehow – from movies but also because of it's European-ness. But recently I've grown tired of big cities. They swallow you whole, and regurgitate you a thousand times a day. In the process you lose sense of who you are. You become the synechdoche of the city.

But if you're on 6th Avenue, go to the Astro restaurant and treat yourself to their Ultimate Greek Yogurt Experience. You won't regret it.

Back to Minnesota we go for a real taste of America: the State Fair.

In Minnesota, you'll find a literal corn-ucopia, mostly involving things on sticks – corndogs, walleye, meatball pasta, camel – you name it, they'll find a way of putting it on a stick and deep frying it.

The benchmark test to determine when you've really made it in Minnesota is when you get sculpted in butter.

WTF moment #5: Butter Sculptures.
Looks like some of the subjects have been tucking into their likenesses...

Saving the best 'till last

Living in the 'States for a while has been a great opportunity – one that I would never have imagined I would lucky enough to experience. It's a fascinating country, full of contradictions. One of the great things I'll take back is a better understanding of what it means to be American – politically, socially, ethically, ethnically, historically. It is very common for Europeans and other nationalities to have an incredibly simplistic attitude toward the USA, but time spent here reveals the complexities underlying the image of America that's often perceived abroad. The fear of "big government", the healthcare debate, gun ownership, liberalism, an absurd interpretation (and fear of) socialism, the immigration paradox (a nation of immigrants being opposed to immigration), the concept of freedom of speech and the seemingly contradictory recent crackdowns on the Occupy movement protestors. All are complex subjects I could write a book about, and certainly far too off-topic to even attempt to discuss in a blog which is supposed to be about backpacking!

Nevertheless, my lasting impression is of a country that has pursued its obsession with freedom to the point that its peculiar interpretation of the concept has become detrimental to the wellbeing of its people. Choice is a wonderful thing – providing you can afford to choose. And most of the 46 million people living below the poverty line don't have many options. But then, with the current crisis in Europe, are things really any better? It's hard to say, the systems are so different. Personally, I'll take a welfare state and high taxes any day over uncertainty, convoluted healthcare systems, and lack of a security net in the US. As many other visiting guests have said to me, there's nothing like three years in America to make you realize you're a European.

Ah... I promised I wouldn't tuen this into a political diatribe, and it would be ungracious of me to finish without celebrating the three best things I experienced in America.

1. Utah

Without a doubt, the most spectacular landscapes I've ever walked in. My trip to Utah is something I'll never forget. Epic vistas, blistering heat, sand and sagebrush. The transformation of water into a rare and treasured resource. The humbling scale of the place can only be described as biblical.

You can read more about my experiences in Utah in my set of four trip reports.

2. Beer

I came to America ignorant, assuming that the US only had bad beer. While there is a lot of bad beer, there is a ton of truly great beer. I leave knowing that America has joined Belgium at the top of the beer league tables.

I was also fortunate to meet and become friends with Michael Agnew of A Perfect Pint, an avid and excellent homebrewer, and Minnesota's first cicerone. He warned me that once I started to brew my own beer it would become an all-consuming obsession. He was spot on.

Brewing Sahti, one of my beer challenges to Mr. Agnew.

Learning all about beer, and how to brew was undoubtedly something that was only possible for me to do while in the 'States. My extremely limited knowledge of Finnish, and the lack of such an extensive homebrewing/craft beer culture in Finland would have made it very difficult there. Things are changing though, and new Finnish brews are popping up frequently, which has me very excited.

Beer and food pairing session. I believe this occasion was sausagefest.

So while I arrived ignorant, I return invigorated, having found an excellent online supplier in Sweden to fuel my next brew.

Last, but definitely not least...

3. IVF

After years of trying, and the disappointment and pain that comes with every negative test or loss, American expertise finally helped bring our daughter, Enni, into the world. So, critical as I might be about the healthcare system in general, it's hard to complain too loudly when the end result is this:

Enni Ainikki Rainio-Roberts, born 22.7.2011

I leave the final, last word, to the citizens of Seward: liberal peacenicks and hippies to the last, I thank you for having me. Finland here I come... I'll see you on the other side!

Ultralight Makeover: Redux Pt. 5 - Start Cooking Light

2011-10-28T06:00:00.000-05:00

Part 5 of a 12-part series in which Backpacking North analyzes Backpacker magazine's recommendations to reduce your pack weight, and offers a more comprehensive selection of tips and gear recommendations from the blogosphere.

<< Part 4: Change your bedding

5. Start cooking light.
Backpacker has some interesting advice for newbie ultralighters, informing us that we can "reduce fuel consumption by [...] painting the bottom of all silver pots with flat black Rust-Oleum stove paint, which boosts efficiency by 30-40%". However, they also note that you can "skip the paint job with an integrated stove/pot like the JetBoil Flash Cooking System ($100, 14oz)."

As for what you put in your pots, Backpacker recommends that you "choose quick cook foods (couscous or pasta) and plan some no cook meals (granola instead of oatmeal). Stick to one pot meals and limit hot drinks."

Backpacking North says...
I had to read the line about painting the bottom of your pots black a couple of times to let the astounding nature of this tip sink in. In all the years I've been backpacking, both heavy and light, I have never once seen or heard of anyone doing this. Could it be that in the entire gamut of experience amassed in the ultralight kingdom, backpackers have missed out on a fundamental ultralight concept that could significantly affect fuel consumption?

Something about if sounded fishy. For one thing, pots are heated by conduction – the direct contact of a heat source (the stove) to another object (the pot). As far as I'm aware, the colour of an object makes no difference to conductive heat transfer, and adding a layer of paint between the metallic surface of the pot and the flame would theoretically increase resistance and reduce efficiency.

Of course, heat transfer through radiation is another matter – we all know that black objects get hotter in the sun than white ones (although anyone who has sat at the tables outside Kiasma in Helsinki in mid summer knows that silver also gets unfathomably hot). Had Backpacker got their elementary physics confused?

Naturally curious, I turned to twitter and the internet in search of answers, and discovered I was not alone in my skepticism. I found several rebuttals to Backpacker's claims on YouTube, and a couple of tests by Hiram Cook to prove them wrong. Here is his second test, which, while not 100% scientific, clearly proves Backpacker's claims to be wildly inaccurate and misleading.

Frankly, it astounds me that a magazine, in an era in which their publication model is under threat, would print such inaccurate advice. While Hiram's tests do show a slight improvement in boil times, this could equally be due to inconsistent testing conditions. I can only hope that hoards of budding ultralight backpackers didn't run out the the hardware store and coat their pots.

But enough about Rust-Oleum. I'm also surprised at the brevity of their culinary advice, being limited to "couscous or pasta" (thanks for that) and granola over oatmeal (isn't granola heavier?). They didn't touch preparing food at home, dehydrating food yourself, or freezer-bag cooking. They also don't mention any of these options in the next item in their guide, "Pay attention to the menu". As that would seem a more relevant place to talk about cuisine, I'll leave a more detailed discussion of food matters until Part 6, and talk instead about something which every ultralighter loves to talk about: stoves and other heating methods.

Backpacker's recommended ultralight cooking system – the JetBoil Flash – has always been a favourite, but less so among the ultralight community. 14oz is a fair old weight compared to some of the canister-mounted stoves currently available (e.g. the Monatauk Gnat at 1.6oz), although it's efficiency can't be argued with. It's likely that Backpacker wasn't aware of JetBoil's recently released titanium version of their system, the SolTi, which as we'll see has been garnering rave reviews, and weighs a mere 8.5oz (240g) – pot included – so it would be unfair to criticize them too harshly for recommending the wrong JetBoil product.

But we backpackers love our stoves, and there are many varieties for different occasions: wood burning stoves, wood/alcohol combinations, esbit tabs, homemade cat cans, canister mounted, chimney/kettle designs... the list goes on. So where do we begin when we want to narrow down the choices?

Fuel availability and weight considerations
On important factor in deciding which stove to use is the availability of the necessary fuel in the area that you'll be using it. This goes beyond the simple matter of "Can I get Primus gas cans in Guatemala?" – although that is of course an important consideration if you plan on going to Guatemala.

Take wood burning stoves, for example. I love them, but I mainly hike in areas where there is ample wood or other combustible material available. There is also the issue of whether or not you are permitted to use them because of fire or ecosystem restrictions. But if you are hiking in forested regions, not having to carry fuel with you is great way to save weight. Foraging for suitable twigs and sticks is also a nice way to wind down. Here's a tip: I like to carry a ziploc bag with me on the trail and collect as I go toward the end of the day. That way I'm ready for a nice cuppa when I make camp. With a wood burner you can ignore Backpacker's advice and make as many hot drinks as you want, providing you don't mind collecting more wood.

There are some areas where canister stoves are essential and convenient. They are perfect for anywhere that prohibits open fires, and great when you want a fast, efficient boil. In winter they are often a godsend – a no fuss way of getting warm – and while their efficiency rapidly falls in cold weather, there are ways around this (keeping your canister warm, placing it in a shallow bowl of water, using a remote canister style stove with a pre-heating tube and inverting the gas can). The downside is that the gas canisters are heavy and bulky, and that's one reason why the SolTi is exciting: small canisters, excellent fuel efficiency, light weight.

Another popular fuel source is alcohol. A simple alcohol stove can be made from an (empty!) can of beer/water can or cat food tin, and the small amount of fuel needed make it an ideal choice for longer trips – providing you can deal with poor efficiency, so make sure you carry a decent wind break.

Esbit tabs are also popular for their lightweight, compact simplicity. I've never used them myself, but many swear by them.

But how about the ultimate in ultralight: carry nothing. If you're hiking somewhere familiar that allows firemaking – either in designated places or in safely constructed, leave-no-trace compliant fireplaces – perhaps you can get away with using the natural or provided resources. Finnish laavu's, for example. often provide a supply of chopped wood. Some even have iron kettles over the fire pits. If you plan your route carefully, it's possible you could travel from camp to camp and never have to carry a pot, stove, or fuel.

Finland. Ultralight backpacker's paradise, or evil socialist dystopia? You decide.

However, having experienced a morning surrounded by nothing but damp twigs which refused to burn in my wood stove, I'm increasingly of the opinion that it's always good to have a plan B - and that's where multi fuel systems like the Trail Designs Sidewinder Ti-Tri shine. Through a clever combination of parts which all fit inside your pot, you can burn wood, alcohol, or Esbit tabs. It's an ideal solution and one I'm planning on trying.

What does Backpacking North use?
For many years I got by just fine with a Primus Micron canister-mounted stove. My original version weighs a not unreasonable 98g, but the titanium version Primus released about three weeks after I bought mine (damn them!) weighed 70g. Now it appears to have been rebranded as an Express Ti. It was one of the first lightweight stoves, and has lasted well.

The Primus Micron (original, less cool version) on holiday in Lofoten at a time
when it was still considered essential to carry yellow plastic bowls everywhere.

While in Finland last year, I needed to pick up a cheap alternative stove as my Micron was in the Minneapolis. I found an Edelrid Kiro ST (84g) which performs just as well as the Micron. To be honest, while there are differences between canister-mounted stoves, they all boil water reasonably quickly, and for short trips any one of them will suffice. If I had to buy a new one today, I'd be looking at the Monatauk Gnat – currently the lightest available at 1.6oz (45g), and apparently also sold as the GoSystem Fly – or the Soto OD-1R Micro Regulator (2.6oz / 73g), which claims to have some clever technology that regulates the flow of gas when the canister is getting empty. Its effectiveness has been questioned however, and Backpacking Light gave it a merely average review.

Incidentally, Backpacking Light has an exhaustive analysis of gas canisters (membership required), and the effect that the proportions of the blend of gases contained in various brands has on boil times in different temperatures. This is most relevant for use at altitude or in winter, at which point it makes more sense to use a remote stove (one that is connected to the gas canister via a tube) so that the canister can be used inverted. I use a Primus Express Spider in winter for exactly that reason. As we're dealing with three-season trips in these articles, I'll leave it to wintercampers.com to provide more info on why inversion is useful.

Carrying gas canisters is a bit of a drag though. I always end up playing safe and carrying too much, and then accumulating a small collection of canisters in various states of emptiness. All that changed when I ordered a BushBuddy Ultra – a handmade, lightweight (139g), highly efficient wood burning stove made by Fritz Handel in Canada (and licensed to BushCooker in the EU– but let's be honest, it's not as cool as the original). My first impressions were noted here, and I still maintain that its sculpted flames are a joyful sight to behold.

BushBuddy in action. Note that the pot is black from soot, not Rust-Oleum.

Once everything settles down after I get back to Finland in a few weeks, I'm planning on getting a Trail Designs Caldera Ti-Tri.

What do others use?
Maybe it's just the idea of playing with fire, but stoves seem to be one object that we love to purchase over and over again, in various forms, just for the sheer hedonistic fun involved in boiling a pot of water.

Stove trends make their way around the blogosphere like memes. The current hot item (ho ho ho) is the...

JetBoil Sol Ti
The ultralight version of the JetBoil Flash, the Sol Ti's weighs a skimpy 240g (338g with all the trinkets), and boils fast (around 2 minutes in good conditions). The only downside is it's $149.99 price. Backpacking Light gave it a Highly Recommended rating. Ryan Jordan is a "huge fan". Hendrik likes it (at least I think he does – the review is alive!), but has some environmental reservations. I'm almost certain Phil liked it, and Roger sounds like he's switched to using one. There have been a few reports of corrosion around where the heat exchanger connects to the rest of the unit. It remains to be seen whether this will be a long-term problem, but at present it doesn't appear to affect the unit's functionality.

Before the Sol Ti hit the shelves, everyone was all ablaze (ho ho ho again) over the...

Courtesy & © Boilerwerks

Boilerwerks Backcountry Boiler
As an example of community-funded product development, the Backcountry Boiler is, perhaps, the piece de resistance of the stove world. Hiking in Finland has a great guest article by Boilerwerks founder Devin Montgomery on the development of the stove. Weighing 9.7oz (227g), the boiler is constructed of a container vessel built around a central chimney, which is placed on a stove bottom. Wood can be dropped into the chimney, and the excellent wind protection ensures a fiery burn and a rapid boil. Devin he recently released a FireFelt alcohol wick which fits inside the burner section, extending the usefulness of the stove. Lightpack has a review, as does Trail Savvy, and the aptly-named Burning Little Sticks has a nice write-up. The Kickstarter-funded project has now closed (with massive success), but you'll soon be able to order one online from Boilerwerks.

There is also a spurious knock-off version of the Backcountry Boiler sold, I'm ashamed to say, in the UK, but it's name will not be mentioned in these pages, as such tomfoolery should be frowned upon.

BushBuddy Ultra
If there's one stove that's achieved a cult status among ultralight backpackers, it's the BushBuddy. The list of its advocates is as long as my arm (and my arms are pretty long). Nearly all of the Nordic Lightpackers have one, and if Hendrik's two reviews don't convince you, check out the thoughts of Jason Klass, Hiking Light, Paddling Light. or the multiple 5/5 reviews on BPL.

While it's not expressly designed for multi-fuel use, Zelph makes a nice little Companion alcohol burner that works with the BushBuddy. The Bearable Lightness also has a post about other multi-fuel possibilities, and another on using it above treeline.

For the ultimate in ultralight multi-fuel stovery, we need to turn to...

Trail Designs Ti-Tri Caldera Cones & Sidewinders
The original Trail Designs Ti-Tri stove was a bit hit when it appeared a few years ago, but many complained that while the stove was great, the packing system – a plastic tube – was less efficient. Trail Designs listened to their customers and released the TiTri ULC, which could be custom ordered to fit your pot (hence the lack of weights here – but you can get the specs from their site; all you need to know is "it's light"). For reviews, check out Hiking in Finland, Andy Howell,

Their latest refinement of the design is the Sidewinder Ti-Tri, which offers a full-sized caldera cone fitted to your pot. It has proven most popular, as the following blog posts illustrate: Jolly Green Giant, Journeyman Traveller, Nielsen Brown Outdoors, Self Powered, and Pig Monkey.

The secret to Trail Designs success is the flexibility of the system. The caldera stoves come ready to burn wood (and the "Inferno" optional extra, transforms the stoves into a stick-eating furnaces comparable to the BushBuddy – as Roger illustrates), alcohol (via a small burner) and esbit tabs (via the included miniscule Gram Cracker stovelet).

Which brings us neatly to...

Esbit Tabs
I've already admitted to never having used an Esbit tab, and my feelings about them are pretty much summed up by Brian Green and the subsequent comments on his post "I really want to like Esbit tabs." I feel I should like them more, but they seem a bit messy. However, I expect to be damned by the Esbit loving hoards, and therefore I encourage you to make your own esbit stove, read about cooking with this "lightest, most efficient fuel", and make sure you buy square tabs and not round ones. The rest is up to you.

Last but not least, we must briefly cover...

Alcohol Stoves
It's almost a rite of passage in ultralightdom to make your own alcohol stove. They are easy to make, come in multiple forms, and, in the right hands, make an excellent choice for long distance travel. The excellent hands I have in mind which prove this point would be those belonging to Andrew Skurka, who provides instructions for making a stove out of a cat food can. He used it for seven months on his Great Western Loop hike and other adventures, which, I think, is enough proof that a little goes a long way, and brings us to the end of this post.

Further Reading
More information than you can throw a cat can stove at about integrated stoves (BPL membership required)

Links to Manufacturers
Boilerwerks
BushBuddy
Edelrid US (oder Deutschland - mit Flash, das is nicht gut)
JetBoil
Monatauk
Primus
Soto
Trail Designs
Zelph

Next up – Part 6: Pay attention to the menu...

Ultralight Makeover: Redux Pt. 4 - Change Your Bedding

2011-09-28T13:23:00.006-05:00

Part 4 of a 12-part series in which Backpacking North analyzes Backpacker magazine's recommendations to reduce your pack weight, and offers a more comprehensive selection of tips and gear recommendations from the blogosphere.

<< Part 3: Downsize your pack

4. Change your bedding.
Backpacker says "If you're going to spend big on one piece of gear, make it your bag." We should, they say, aim for a three season bag/pad combo weighing 3lb / 1.36kg or less. They recommend splurging on a premium down bag to save weight and bulk, and select the Marmot Plasma 15 ($469, 1lb 14oz / 906g) and a Pacific Outdoors Peak Elite AC ($80, 14oz.)

The first thing that strikes me about this is: what about quilts? I'm surprised that Backpacker only lists one recommendation for a bag; it's not that it's a bad bag, in fact it looks pretty good (if a little expensive). It's just that there are so many bags out there, and for summer use a full mummy bag might just be a bit excessive (this depends on a lot of factors though, as we'll discuss). As for a pad, the POE Peak Elite is a great three season pad – providing you can find one: it's still vary hard to find in the US almost a year after it's release, and some people who have managed to get hold of one have had manufacturing quality issues. Not a good sign, and therefore a surprising recommendation.

Backpacking North says...
Choosing a bag and pad involves balancing a complex array of factors and considerations. There are so many opposing` choices to be made: Down or synthetic? Mummy or quilt? Three-season or four? Bag combos? The variety of bags with slightly different temperature ratings, materials, and weights is overwhelming. For pads, the options are equally numerous.

A veritable plethora of bags from Montbell, WM, Big Agnes, Marmot et al at Midwest Mountaineering

The apparently infinitely variable combination of sleep systems reveals a truth about our individual requirements to achieve good night's sleep in the outdoors: everyone is different. We all feel the cold in different ways because we all have different bodies (thankfully). When choosing a sleeping system (and it is important to consider the entire system: pad, bag, bivy, pillow, clothes) only you know what you need. You can read a hundred blogs espousing the latest, greatest, lightest pad to beat all pads with a warmth rating of 5.7, and still feel cold at night. Or, you can be one of those lucky warm sleepers who can get by with just a scrap of tyvek. Age, body type, sleep habits, gender -– all come into play (and, incidentally, many pad and bag makers offer specific models for women, with extra insulation or padding in the hips and feet).

So, let's take a look at some of the options available to us in the hope that we can make an informed decision about what we need in our sleep system.

Bags vs. Quilts
First, the big one: do you really want or need a mummy bag (a full sleeping bag with a hood)? Many ultralight hikers today choose quilts over bags for the weight benefits and general flexibility. Quilts differ from mummy bags in that they typically do not entirely surround your body, but instead can be tucked under your body, leaving your torso in direct contact with your sleeping pad. The argument for doing this is simple – in a down mummy bag, the compressed feathers under your body offer little or no insulation anyway, so why not eliminate it altogether? As for the hood – do you really need a hood in summer? And if you do, couldn't you just wear a hat? In the event of colder temperatures, a pull-on, down hood or balaclava (such as this one from Katabatic) offers the same insulating effect as a mummy hood, and doubles as camp wear should you need it.

For me, the choice between a mummy bag and a quilt is far simpler and has little to do with insualtion: I'm an active side-sleeper, and I hate getting twisted and caught up in a mummy bag as I thrash around at night. Under a quilt, my body moves, but the bag stays in place. The end result? I actually sleep instead of working up an unpleasant night sweat trying to reposition the bag around me for hours on end. A quilt eliminates my sleeping issues, and saves me weight, and keeps me warm. It's also easier to throw off part of the quilt if you get too warm.

However, if you're a back sleeper and you don't move around much, a mummy bag can suit you perfectly fine. Some people simply prefer the coccoon-like coziness of a bag.

If the wasted, compressed insulation bothers you, there is a compromise between bags and quilts. Big Agnes, for example, make a range of mummy-like bags with pockets sewn underneath for sleeping pads.

Down vs. Synthetic
It is often said that if you live in a wet climate, you choose synthetic, otherwise you choose down. To be honest, I don't think that's an entirely relevant argument any more. Water resistant materials make down bags perfectly viable in wet climates, and in any case, you should always keep your bag (down or synthetic) in some sort of waterproof stuffsack or pack liner. A wet down bag is not an option. A wet synthetic bag will still keep you warm in theory, but there's no need to test that theory just before bedtime. Your bag should be protected, whatever insulation it contains.

The second argument for down is also increasingly under challenge from new synthetic fabrics: compressibility. Although down is undoubtedly more compressible than synthetics, and re-lofts beautifullly after compression, newer synthetic fabrics approach down's compressibility – but you'll pay a premium for them. While it's possible to find a synthetic bag bargain, cheaper synthetic materials tend to be bulky and heavy.

Of course, the lighter you travel the less you'll need to compress your bag anyway. With all your new ultralight gear, and your new pack, you'll probably find it beneficial not to compress the bag. Stuffing it loosely in a pack liner will bulk out the pack more, helping to make it a better fit and a more comfortable carry.

Next up in the down vs. synthetic war of attrition is longevity. Down bags have long been praised for still remaining fluffy and warm after 20 years use. Down bags can also be fairly easily restuffed if needed, prolonging their lifetime.

Synthetic, on the other hand, is generally considered to have a much shorter lifetime, with some materials only withstanding around 5 years of active use. It's impossible to assess the durability of newer synthetic fabrics; their longevity has not yet had time to be proven. But if you look after a down bag, your initial investment will definitely pay off, and you'll have a warm cuddly friend for a long long time. So remember – always store your sleeping bag uncompressed.

Nevertheless, synthetics have definitely improved, so don't disregard them altogether. When it comes down to it (ho ho ho), synthetic does have one benefit over down: cost. Synthetics are typically much cheaper than down bags. While cheap down bags are available, all down is not equal. Cheaper bags use lower quality feathers, rated around 550+, which means you need more of it to achieve the same amount of insulation as you would using higher rated 900+ down. The better quality the down, the more expensive the bag, and ultralight gear requires the use of the finest, warmest, loftiest down available. You can be sure that the duck that was plucked to make your ultralight quilt was from the highest European stock.

Synthetics, on the other hand, are manufactured in bulk, are cheaper to reproduce, and they don't need feeding, unlike those greedy ducks. Although hi-tech synthetic materials can get costly, they are still much cheaper than down.

Personally, I generally lean towards down with one exception: synthetic quilts make an excellent choice as a winter overbag. As this series of articles focuses mainly on summer/three-season use, I'll leave that topic for you to research for yourself (you can check out Fjäderlatt, and Thunder in the Night for more info on this subject).

A constructive note for down
Another important thing to consider in choosing a down bag is the way that the chambers containing the down have been constructed. Ultralight summer bags are likely to be simply stitched through, trapping a single layer of down in one area. This is fine, but the stitching will have next to no insulating ability. Compare this to a colder rated bag, in which the down is contained in overlapping chambers (a baffled construction) - so there are no cold spots from seams. You can read a lot more about technical aspects of baffle construction here and here.

Temperature ratings
Just how low will your bag or quilt go? Manufacturers' temprarture ratings have been notoriously unreliable – especially the more mainstream, cheaper options. Recently, manufacturers have been adopting the European rating system, the catchily named EN 13537, which gives a clearer indication of a bag's warmth by giving separate ratings for different extremes of temperature use.

Upper Limit — the temperature at which a standard man can sleep without excessive perspiration.
Comfort — the temperature at which a standard woman can expect to sleep comfortably in a relaxed position.
Lower Limit — the temperature at which a standard man can sleep for eight hours in a curled position without waking.
Extreme — the minimum temperature at which a standard woman can remain for six hours without risk of death from hypothermia (though frostbite is still possible).

It's a useful system, if still a little confusing (hey, this is the EU) as the upper and lower limits describe men, while comfort and extreme describe women. And what is a standard man? Apparently he is 25 years old, 1.73 meters high, and weighs 73kg. Maybe that explains why I sleep cold – I just don't live up to standards. A standard woman, incidentally, is also 25, but only 1.6m tall, and a mere slip of a lass at 60kg. Everyone else is considered non-standard and a failure. At least you now know where you stand.

If only life were that simple. You should treat sleeping bag ratings as indicators. Generally it's wise to get a bag rated a little lower than the typical temps you expect. My summer quilt, for example, is rated fairly accurately to -7ºC. While that might seem a little extreme for summer, I know I sleep cold, and I know that Lapland nights can easily drop close to zero C, so it's a suitable bag.

While it's wise to err on the side of caution when buying a bag or quilt, there is another way to travel with a lighter, higher rated bag, and improvise your way to warmth...

Clothing as part of a sleep system

There was a time when I would strip down to my undies, ready for a good night's sleep in the wild. It was a habit that was hard to kick, but a very impractical one. Temperatures would drop at night, I'd inevitably have to pee after drinking all the whiskey, and I'd end up shivering in the dark cursing the day I decided to go hiking.

The solution: wear your clothes to bed. It's a much more flexible and modular approach that can extend the warmth rating of your bag. If you wake up in the middle of the night to answer the call of nature, you're not going to freeze in the process. In the morning, it's up and away – you no longer have to curl up in your bag in denial of the fact that at some point you'll have to brave that unseasonably chilly air. You're already dressed.

Wear a light down jacket to bed, and a hat, and you have no need for the confining space of a mummy bag. Clothed, under a quilt, you can add or remove layers to increase or decrease warmth. If it gets really cold, put everything on. Your 10ºC bag just became part of a -2ºC sleep system. By taking this modular approach you save weight, and possibly money (although you'll probably end up spending a fortune on cool, hi-tech clothing).

I wouldn't recommend leaping straight into wearing your clothes as part of a sleep system without first being certain of your body temperature at night and having a pretty good idea of how warm you need to be. Better to start with a warmer bag or quilt and find your comfort levels first. you can always sell it later and get a lighter one (see part 1 for used gear sites).

A caveat: don't wear clothes you've been cooking in if you're in evil bear country. You know that right?And be aware that oils and dirt from clothes (and skin) will over time reduce the breathability of your bag – so keep it clean with some Nikwax or other down/synthetic cleaning product.

Wearable Quilts

For the ultimate in multi-use, ultralight quiltery, how about one you can wear? Jacks'R'Better (warning: painfully bad web design) make a range of quilts that you can adapt into down outerwear. It's a neat and radical idea, although don't expect to win any awards on the catwalk (duckboards?).

The rest of the system: Pads, Pillows, and Bivy Bags
In most climates, even in summer you will want some form of barrier between you and the ground. Fortunately, the warmer months allow us to pick from a selection of super lightweight air mattresses. Many now feature innovative forms of reflective insulation allowing them to be pushed into colder weather, and even into winter when combined with a decent, thick closed cell foam pad. The pad can also be used to give structure to your pack.

When choosing a pad, consider your sleeping style, and try out a few in a store if you can. I started out with a NeoAir, but found the horizontal baffles led me to roll off the pad all the time. After switching to a vertical baffle pad I had much sweeter dreams.

You can save some weight by choosing a short pad, or even 2/3 or 1/2 length pad, and using your empty pack under your legs. It's a nice idea, but I find it makes me feel like my legs are hanging off a ledge, and reduces my blood circulation. A lot of this depends on how thick your pad is – it might work better with thinner CCF pads.

Pillows are a contentious item. Some swear by them, others insist you should use your spare clothes in a stuff sack. But what if you're wearing your clothes as part of a sleep system? No excuses! Use your shoes! I gave in and started to take a pillow with me.

We dealt with Byvy Bags in briefly in part 3, and they too form an essential part of your sleep system, especially if you are in an open tarp. Many bags come in breathable waterproof/repellant materials these days (Pertex Quantum and eVent being favourites), but for more serious protection, a Bivy will keep your sleeping bag dry.

One tip: when you put all these slippery fabrics together – bags/quilts, pads, pillows, bivvies – you'll find things tend to slip around a lot. Dabs of SilNet silicone sealant applied to the base of your pad and perhaps pillow help to reduce this annoying slippage. Avoiding slopes also helps. Some bivy bags feature stake out points which, if stitched well, will help to hold everything in place.

What does Backpacking North use?
First, I wouldn't say that my sleep system is perfect. Finding the right combination of gear for your needs – one that is flexible enough to cope with all conditions, environments, and seasons – is a long proces of trial an error. All I can talk about is what I currently use, and what other gear I am considering to add to the system.

Sleep system action shot

My main summer quilt is the GoLite Ultralight 3-Season, a great starter quilt available at a reasonable price ($275). At 837g (long) it's not the lightest, but I like that it has a tougher, waterproof, foot box and shoulder sections. These are great for use under a tarp or DuoMid. It's rated to -7ºC, which I find to be fairly accurate, and is filled with 800+ down. The previous version of this quilt – the Ultralight 20 – was lighter. GoLite has an odd tendency recently of increasing their weights with each release, but at $275 the current medel is at least reasonably priced (that is, compared to some other manufacturers).

My other bag is a Western Mountaineering Antelope MF, rated to -15ºC, and weighing 1160g. Western Mountaineering are the standard bearers for high quality down mummy bags. The Antelope is a little wider in the shoulder, which makes it more suited to side-sleepers, thrashers, and the broad shouldered. In winter, I prefer to be fully enclosed against draughts, and for Lapland temps I need a decent bag (alhtough the Antelope is classified as a three-season, I rarely go out in extreme temps (say, -30ºC). If I did, or expected significantly lower temperatures I could always take the GoLite quilt as an overbag, and wear all my clothes. For the two or three nights a year I'm likely to be out in extremely cold weather, I simply can't justify spending a fortune on a -40ºC bag. I'd rather stay at home and eat cakes.

I'd love to go lighter with both bags, but where I'd really like to improve is in developing a complete and flexible system. The GoLite is fine, but for summer, I could probably manage with a synthetic quilt, which could then double as a winter overbag (as per the Johannson/Newton method). Without going into too much detail, a synthetic overbag in winter is a wiser choice than a down because escaping moisture gets trapped in the synthetic material, which, unlike wet down, will still keep you warm.

So, my ideal would be a light, compressible summer bag rated to a few degrees below 0ºC, combined with the Antelope. The new MLD Spirit 28 would be a prime contender.

I'm not totally ruling out a down quilt for winter (Katabatic have some very nice ones, as we'll see) but right now I prefer being nicely tuckedin in extreme cold. As I've mentioned a couple of times, finding the right gear is all about knowing what you require, and what is appropriate for the environment. I'd be willing to try a winter quilt, but the cost of purchasing one only to find I don't like it puts me off.

As for a bivy bag, I use Katabatic Bristlecone, which I find just about perfect.

Katabatic Bristlecone detail

I tried a TiGoat Ptarmigan, and had a catastrophic mosquito netting failure with it. The Katabatic replaces this and I'm extremely happy with it.

For a pillow, after trying the clothes-in-a-stuffsack approach, the spare water canteen approach, and a KookaBay inflatable, I settled on a nice ExPed Air Pillow – it's cheap, it's light (78g) it's soft, it's shapely, and with a little bit of shock cord it can be easily attached to a sleeping pad. Most importantly, it seems ideal for a side sleeper, and I sleep very well on it. I love the plush, subtly soft feel of the material – so much nicer than plain nylon.

Exped Air Pillow

Lastly, the sleeping pad. I'm currently using a POE Ether Elite 6, which is no longer available (and wasn't available for long anyway). The replacement, the Peak Elite AC, is also hard to find (virtually impossible outside the UK), and seems to suffer from leaking issues – which is a shame as it's a great pad: light, warm, with verticle baffles to keep you nicely centered.

What do others use?
Normally, when looking at other blogger's favorite pieces of gear, it's quite easy to recognize popular trends and identify clear winners. Not so with sleeping systems. Each person has developed their own preferences. However, there are a few items which have managed to raise their heads above the crowds, and find their way into the kit of more than one individual.

MLD Spirit 28-38-48º Sybthetic Quilt (formerly Spirit 30)
MLD's synthetic Spirit quilt is a favorite of several bloggers. Martin Rye uses one, and Joe Newton's forms part of his four-season go anywhere system. Now coming in three versions for different temperatures, it's one of two quilts I'm seriously considering.

Joe Newton enjoying a break in his MLD Spirit 30 (photo courtesy Joe Newton / Thunder int he Night).

Western Mountaineering Megalite / Ultralight (and other) down bags
Reoger over at Nielsen Brown Outdoors uses a Megalite, and Joe's Ultralight forms the other half of his bag/quilt system. Western Mountaineering make fantastic bags, with plenty of variation in temperature ranges, materials, and girth. They are very well made, and expensive – and sadly sales are very rare online. Check out the whole range of bags in the ExtremeLite series, but don't ignore the rest of the range – many of the Microfiber series are close in weight to the ExtremeLite range.

MontBell U.L. Super Spiral Down Huggers bags
Fraser McAlister reminded me about these. They are an interesting mummy design: the stitching is elasticated a little, making them another potential good choice if you like to thrash around at night, or have a hump. BPL reviewed one a while back (membership required)

Katabatic Gear down quilts
New on the scene, but rapidly gaining popularity, are Katabatic's range of quilts, the Chisos (40ºF), Palisade (30ºF), Aslek (22ºF), Sawatch (15ºF), and Blackwelder (0ºF). Combined with one of their down hoods, they make an excellent choice for quiltily inclined. The Sawatch got the coveted Backpacking Light Highly Recommended rating (membership required).

GoLite Ultralite 3 Season down quilt.
A great and popular starter quilt, available at a reasonable price (compared to others, at least). Sadly currently out of stock, and a little heavier than the previous model (which Hendrik has). If you can get one, it's s a great place to start a love affair with quilts.

Jacks'R'Better down quilts
Jacks'R'Better have a very good reputation among the cognoscenti. Phil Turner (a Stealth) loves them, ultralight lovebirds Helen Fisher (a Rocky Mountain) and Thomas Gauperaa (a Sierra) both have one, and the Backpacking Light forums are full of people singing their praises. The all-time classic is the No Sniveller (BPL review) - a wearable quilt which offers great flexibility and will surely make you the talking point around camp. I think it is now called the Sierra Sniveler, but it's hard to tell with such a terribly designed website.

Nunatak dow quilts and mummy bags
The choice for the eilte ultralighter, Nunatak are to quilts what Western Mountaineering are to mummy bags. Their Arc Alpinist is their most popular model, rated to 20ºF. Trailblaze reviewed it.

Ray Jardine Ray-Way Quilt Kit
The quilt that started it all - now available in kit form.

Sleeping Mats.
A couple of years ago, the Therm-a-Rest Neo Air was the discerning ultralight backpackers air mat of choice. One of the first in a range of new mats featuring an internal heat-reflective layer, the NeoAir was both light and warm, Unfortunately it was also a bit noisy and a little uncomfortable. It's recently been replaced by a heavier, but warmer version, the NeoAir All Season, (560g) which Phil reviewed earlier this year.

Shortly after the original NeoAir was introduced, Pacific Outdoor Equipment released the Ether Elite 6, featuring localized insulation, a lighter weight, and a lighter price. Sadly, it was hard to get hold of outside the US, and was replaced, after one year, by the Peak Elite AC (396g), which ups the ante by including a reflective layer and localised insulation. Unfortunately this is hard to find in the US, but Phil in the UK got hold of one and made a video review. A few people have had problems with air leaks (e.g., Ken / I'm going for a scuttle, and Mark at Mark's Walking Blog) so hopefully POE's next ultralight air mattress will be even better and more universally available.

Exped make a range of lightweight synthetically insulated mats, and the SynMat UL7 (480g) gets positive reviews from Dondo and Mark's Walking Blog. I like Exped's inflation/deflation system (one valve for each) and the fact that they have eye-holes for attaching their lovely air pillows.

A new pad with an unusual design has been doing the rounds, the Klymit Inertia series, skimpy pads which shave off weight by including free holes.

It's a radical design, and I've not heard of many people using one. In fact, until I saw a photo today of one used inside a sleeping bag, the whole idea seemed a bit daft, but in theory, an in-bag pad with holes might make allow some of down under your body to fluff up and provide some insulation. The Klymit Inertia X-Frame pictured above weighs 258g.

Hardcore UL'ers like to use half or 2/3 pads to save even more weight, using their packs and other items under their legs as simple insulation from the ground. It saves some weight, but I value what little luxury I can get from my sleep system, and a full pad gives me a better night's sleep.

You can save weight by just carrying a closed cell foam pad, although your comfort might be compromised. When I was younger I'd happily sleep on just a rolled up CCF mat, but those days are long gone. If you're still supple and flexible, you could do worse than looking into Multimat's collection of foam mats (and even if you're not supple, they are worth looking at for additional Winter insulation). the Multimat Adventure weighs in at 190g, for example.

For a more thorough examination and comparison of current (2011) air mats, see Backpacking Light's state of the market report (membership required).

Bivy Bags, briefly
The Katabatic Bristlecone has received plaudits from Joe, Roger (Nielsen Brown), myself, and others.

MLD made a very popular range of bivies. Checking their (recently hacked) site I only see the Superlight now, so I'm not sure if they have scaled back the models of if the site is still in recovery.

Further Info:
Hiking in Finland has a great post on quilts
Joe's post on a flexible 4-season sleeping system
Mummy bag state of the market report @ Backpacking Light (membership required)
Lightweight inflatable air mats report 2011 @ Backpacking Light (membership required)
Unconventional Sleep Systerms Review and Gear Guide @ Backpacking Light (membership required)
Unconventional Sleep Stsyems Manifesto @ Backpacking Light (membership required)

Links to manufactures

Big Agnes
Feathered Friends
GoLite
Jacks'R'Better
Katabatic Gear
Klymit
Montbell
Mountain Laurel Designs (MLD)
Multimat
Nunatek
PHD
RAB
Ray Jardine
Western Mountaineering
Yeti

Part 5: Start cooking light >>

Ultralight Makeover: Redux Pt. 3 - Ditch Your Dome

2011-08-17T06:00:00.001-05:00

Part 3 of a 12-part series in which Backpacking North analyzes Backpacker magazine's recommendations to reduce your pack weight, and offers a more comprehensive selection of tips and gear recommendations from the blogosphere.

<< Part 2: Downsize your pack

3. Ditch your dome.

According to Backpacker, the dome tent is "the low-hanging fruit of an ultralight makeover." I have no idea what that means, unless it implies that reducing the weight of your shelter is an easily reachable goal. The magazine correctly points out that you can cut your shelter weight by a half or more by switching to a lighter alternative, and suggests a tarp as the lightest option with the highest space-to-weight ratio. You can't argue with that.

Their recommendations include the Integral Designs SilWing tarp ($110, 12oz, 56 sq.ft.), or the GoLite Shangri-La 2 floorless shelter ($225, 1lb 10oz, 45 sq.ft). For the tent aficionado, they propose a NEMO Meta 2p ($225, 2lbs. 15 oz., 36 sq.ft.), or a Mountain Hardware Lightpath 2 hoop tent ($175, 3lbs 15oz, 30 sq. ft.).

Setting aside the Lightpath 2 for the moment, which surely must only be present for some kind of sponsorship obligation, their suggestions are not that bad. The SilWing is a pretty good tarp, if a little trickier to erect than other designs. The Shangri-La 2 is also respected, as we'll see later. I've never seen a NEMO Meta 2p, nor heard of anyone using one. To me it looks over-designed, and from what I can tell, it would be easy to achieve the same result for less weight with a tarp and an inner.

In any case, some interesting suggestions – but are they the best? Let's look deeper into dome-ditching to find out...

Backpacking North says...

The good old dome tent! Roomy. Stable. Easy to erect and move around. Or is it? Is it really any more roomy than some of the other options available to us? Yes, it's stable – especially if it's got a nice geodesic structure – but complex structures come with a price: poles. Lots of them. Big, dangly, fold-away poles, held together with elastic cord, featuring bizarrely complicated joints and awnings to create as sci-fi a shape as possible (I know not all of those examples are strictly dome tents, but as a generalisation, you get my point). Then, of course, there are lots and lots of tie downs and guy cords to make sure your easily moveable shelter doesn't, well, easily move.

Mainstream manufacturers release a veritable plethora of tents every year, all designed to appeal to our senses and impress us with their technological ingenuity and perfection. I suppose the idea is that the more high-tech they are, the more we are likely to feel secure in them at night. Their latest tent will be the perfect shelter for all your needs, and hey, it's ulttralight at 5lbs!

In reality, of course, there is no perfect shelter. There are only shelters appropriate for your needs, for the environment and climate you will be in, the time of year, the expected conditions, the amount of bugs etc. Traditional tents tend to be ridiculously over-engineered. You really do not need a double-walled tent with integrated bathtub floor and separate groundsheet/footprint to protect that floor. Traditional tents also weigh a ton. They are often not particularly well constructed, and with an abundance of seams it's inevitable that they will leak. And yet they remain so attractive...

For an ultralight approach, we need to embrace a shift in values; we must accept that all that extra stuff is not needed. A shelter can be simple. In fact, that is precisely what the name suggests: it is a shelter, not a second home. It must protect you, keep you dry, offer you a place to hang out in poor conditions, and, ideally, not take up 75% of your pack weight (and space).

So let's begin by simplifying the structure. Instead of two walls (one to keep out the rain or moisture, another to keep out the rain or moisture that the first one doesn't keep out), can we manage with one?

One wall or two?

We've been told we need two walls in a tent to keep out condensation, and provide an additional layer of protection from rain. But is condensation really all that bad? It only becomes a problem when you come into contact with it, or when so much is produced it splatters off when pounded by rain. In order to reduce condensation, tents are designed with ventilation flaps and other contrivances to encourage airflow. With that taken into consideration, what if, instead of fighting condensation, we simply accept it as part of the experience? Then we quite literally open up our shelter options.

Most ultralight shelters are single wall, floorless designs, either in the shape of tarps (essentially a sheet of material suspended as you choose to create an open shelter), or in the form of an enclosed (i.e. zippered) or semi-enclosed pyramid-style structure. There are many variations on these two designs, but in principle tarps and pyramids make a simplified categorisation.

But what about condensation?
To which I say: So what about condensation? Yes, it happens, somewhat inevitably. Because tarps and pyramids are designed to be open or raised shelters, there is plenty of airflow through them. But you will still get condensation from the temperature differential between your shelter material and the air. You don't even need to be in or under it to find moisture building up on the iside of your tarp (for much more info on condensation see the link to a Backpacking Light article at the end of this post).

Typically, the amount of condensation is nothing a micro-towel or a good shake can't deal with, then when you pack up camp you simply stuff the shelter into the outside mesh pocket of your new ultralight backpack, and hit the trail. You can always stop to dry it off if the sun is shining.

As for protecting your gear whilst you're inside the shelter, often there is so much room under your shelter that it simply isn't an issue. If you do brush up against it, it's not usually enough to wet out your nice fluffy down sleeping bag – which is what we really want to avoid. Some bags and quilts have a heavier duty material on the footbed and shoulder areas, or are constructed entirely out of a more water resistant material, and can be used under a tarp without the need for additional protection.

However, to be on the safe side, many ultralighters take along a bivy to use under the tarp or in their shelter. This adds a layer of protection against condensation, and the ingress of rain and/or bugs. Bivy bags typically weigh very little – far less than an inner tent – and, assuming you have a fairly good idea of the weather conditions, offer the flexibility of sleeping inside them without erecting a shelter overhead. When you combine a bivy bag (or bug inner) with a tarp or pyramid you effectively have a very flexible, modular system: a kind of two-wall shelter, that you can adapt to different situations and conditions.

It is this flexibility or use which we seek in the ultralight world. Why be limited to the defined design of a tent when you can have multiple shelter options with you: tarp only, tarp and bivy for rain/bug seasons, bivy only, or tarp and bug inner if you live in particularly hellish mosquito country. You carry with you the best of all worlds, and can adapt to the situation with ease.

So to summarize: don't fear condensation. When you think about how it magically forms out of thin air, it's quite a beautiful thing. When you consider that some tarps weigh a mere 200g (7oz) or less, even after adding the weight of stakes, cord, and seam sealer, you might still have shaved off up to 4 lbs (2 kg) from your load. Not bad.

How about no walls at all?

The logical extension of all this is to skip the shelter altogether if you know the weather is going to be fine. That's a nice idea, but I have yet to go hiking anywhere where the weather is 100% predictable. Even in desert climates I'd still take a simple tarp as shelter, and sleep under the stars only if conditions seemed appropriate. If it does rain, at least I have shelter. The weight of a tarp is a small price to pay for safety.

Sorry, did you say floorless?

In a tent, you usually have a floor. Then often another floor to protect that floor from the ground. With a tarp or pyramid shelter, there is far less between you and Mother Earth. There are advantages and disadvantages to this, the main advantage being, of course, less to carry. The main disadvantage is an increase in condensation, but this is largely compensated for by the open, ventilated designs of the shelters – and anyway, we just learned not to fear condensation anyway! Love it for what it is!

Personally, I think that it is precisely the proximity to nature offered by tarps and pyramid shelters that is their main attraction. To wake up under a tarp and see morning mist rising off dew-covered ground is something quite special. Throw in a couple of deer cavorting in a nearby dell, and you have an idyllic scene to accompany your morning oatmeal. Why hide away in a tent when the whole point of being outside is to be in nature. Under a tarp you are much closer to the environment, and your experience will be all the better for it.

Nevertheless, sometimes we need a little protection from the elements. It would be a shame to have to camp on less-than-ideal ground and get mud, sand, or moisture in our gear. The simplest solution is to carry a small sheet of polycryo or tyvek to provide a barrier between you and whatever surface you camp on. It need only be a little larger than your sleeping bag, and weighs next to nothing. Another option is to simply use a bivy; most have a more durable, waterproof material on the base.

A typical tarp setup: SpinnTwinn and LT4 poles, Katabatic Bristlecone bivy, polycryo sheet, z-lite section.

Naturally, as with any tent, you'll probably want some form of insulating barrier between you and the ground to keep you comfortable and warm in the night. This will most likely take the shape of an air or closed-cell foam pad – and we'll look at those and some alternatives in part 4.

Ah, but I live in bug country...

There are several ways to cope with bugs. Many summer bivy bags feature a bug window. Tie the bivy hood up to the top of the tarp, zip up the hood, and sleep in peace. Some bags feature a larger area which can be suspended or raised to give a less claustrophobic feeling. For the ultimate in luxury, and in my opinion indispensable in places such as Lapland and Minnesota, a solo-sized mesh bug inner will keep the bugs at bay and give you a little room to keep your sanity intact. There are as many bug inner designs as there are tarps and pyramids, so check out the manufacturer links at the end if you are blighted by bugs.

Aren't tarps hard to pitch?

Honestly, tarps and 'mids are no more difficult to pitch than any other tent. I'd even go so far as to say they are easier. A couple of stakes, some tensioning, maybe (but not necessarily) a knot, and you'll have a shelter more taut than any dome.

So which are better then, tarps or pyramids?

Neither. It all depends on where you'll be going and the conditions you expect. Tarps offer great flexibility: hang them high for palatial roominess, or hunker down to the ground in bad weather. They are more suited to forested areas or low country – they are not really intended to withstand very high winds.

Pyramids on the other hand are great for variable climates and/or winter use, but can still be opened up to create a lean-to like shelter. They also offer plenty of headroom if, like me, you are on the tall side. They shed wind better and, as they are surprisingly sturdy, can be used more readily in open spaces.

Are there any other options?

If you really can't stomach the idea of a single wall shelter, there are a few well regarded ultralight tents out there. Using simpler, lighter materials, they offer the same comforts as traditional tents but usually with a higher price tag. Alternatively, how about a hammock? There are a couple of ultralight hammocks with integrated bug netting, and a tarp rain fly for around 700g. Pretty good, if that's how you hang...

All right then, you've convinced me. So what do you use?

My journey towards using ultralight shelters was probably fairly typical. A few years ago, I was in InterSport in Rovaniemi, and made an impulse purchase of a Haglöfs Genius 21 dome tent.

A big, heavy Haglöfs Genius 2 in a very nice setting.

It was spectacular. I loved it. Small, Norwegian pensioners admired it at the top of large Norwegian mountains. It weighed a ton! Remember the 343 principle I wrote about in part 1? The Genius 21 weighs 4kg (8.8lb)! Not so genius after all. Sure it could fit 2.1 people (go figure), and when split between two it wasn't quite so bad to carry. But When I took it on a solo hike with my dog (who, incidentally, refused to carry half of it; so much for man's best friend) I was utterly exhausted. Great tent though. Tough. Reliable. Green. I took it to Utah last year with a friend. It was such a pain to pitch in the high winds blowing down from Forty Mile Ridge. So much for the ease and simplicity of a dome. (Well, to be fair, it would have been hard to pitch anything on slickrock with a storm raging.)

Just before moving to Minnesota, I decided I wouldn't carry such a ridiculous weight with me ever again, and went in search of a solo tent. After reading recommendations in Colin Walker's and Chris Townsend's books, I plumped for a Hilleberg Akto.

The Hilleberg Akto in stealth mode. Can you spot it? It's behind the tree.

Perfect for one man and his dog. And much lighter than the Genius at 1.4kg (3lbs 2oz). Today, that seems to me like a fairly heavy shelter, but if you compare it to Backpacker's Lightpath 2 recommendation, it's about 13 oz lighter (albeit for a solo tent). I still like the Akto. It has great nostalgia value for me. It's a great tent for Lapland, and good in winter. It's cozy and very well made. But sadly now I rarely use it.

When I finally decided to truly go ultralight, I took a dive off the deep end and purchased a Gossamer Gear SpinnTwinn.

The Gossamer Gear SpinnTwinn. Now that's what I call a taut pitch. And just look at that catenary curve!

A simple tarp, made out of spinnaker fabric, (used, like cuben fiber, for yacht sails). When it arrived through my post box, I couldn't stop grinning. It weighs 300g, seam sealed, with cords attached. Let me repeat that: 300g (something like 10oz) – and that's for the two person SpinnTwinn. That's 3700g lighter than the Genius 21. Or 1100g lighter than the Akto. It felt as if weighed nothing at all. I still laugh deliriously when I think about this. I'm doing it now.

And the fact is, it's a great shelter. Simple to pitch, easy to re-pitch and modify if the weather changes. Beautiful. Elegant. Its taut catenary curve is truly something to behold. To see the world slipping into darkness under it is so soothing. To wake up under it is an invigorating delight. I feel more a part of nature under the SpinnTwinn than I do in any other shelter. Admittedly, compared to a really basic rectangular tarp (without a catenary curve) it is a little limited in pitching options (or at least, you need some creativity and skill) but I love it. It achieves everything I need.

So why did I need to go and buy a DuoMid?

Well, under a SpinnTwinn in bug country you are going to want some protection. A bivy is fine, but a little limiting. Also, I wanted something for the more exposed conditions of Lapland, and something that I could use in winter – something, in other words, with a door. The SpinnTwinn is great but in a snowstorm... no thanks.

My Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid has a bug netting perimeter to keep the worst of the mosquitoes at bay, and can be pitched high or low for additional space. It is already huge, with more than enough room to sit or half stand. Pitch it high and it becomes palatial. Open the doors wide and it's like my own personal laavu (lean-to). I can shut out the wind and the snow. I can cook inside. I can fit all my gear in and still have room to lounge around. It's light – 614g – still 3400g lighter than the Genius 21, and like the SpinTwin pitches perfectly with my trekking poles (just one, in fact). Plus it has one additional feature...

It's bright yellow.

Sunny, yellow, DuoMid, joy joy.

There's a lot to be said for blending into the landscape, but there's a lot more to be said for waking up under a sunny yellow pyramid of joy. These days, I reach for my DuoMid more than any other shelter when heading out. Although sleeping under a tarp is wonderful, there is something about the DuoMid that just feels right. It might not be the lightest pyramid or tarp, and I will definitely need a really good bug inner to truly cope with the summer mosquitoes in Lapland that will push the weight up a little more, but sometimes, you know... weight isn't everything. I'm still carrying less than ever before. I'm protected from the elements. And I'm happy. And that's what counts.

For a bivy I use a Katabatic Geat Bristlecone (200g / 7oz) – a truly great bivy with plenty of room for all-year-round use, and a huge 180º bug netting window. As it has a waterproof floor, so I don't really need a ground sheet, but I generally take a 46g / 1.6oz sheet of polycryo, just in case.

As I mentioned earlier, the shelter you choose must suit your needs and the environment you most often hike in. No one shelter will be perfect for every situation. What's good for Lapland is overkill for Utah. When you're choosing a ultralight shelter, try and take a look at what ultralighters in your neck of the woods are using. It's highly likely that their gear choices will be appropriate for you. And with that thought in mind...

What do other people use?
While researching this article, I was amazed how many tarp configurations are available from different manufacturers. MLD, for example, offers seven versions of a simple rectangular tarp (and that's before we even get into TrailStars). As the emphasis of the Ultralight Makeover series is on proven gear, I'll once again be focusing on exactly that: gear which other bloggers and hikers regularly use and recommend.

Tarps
If there's one thing to say about buying a tarp it's this: size up. They're so light you can afford the luxury of a two person shelter, and when you are stuck under one for a day you'll be glad you did. The weight penalty of choosing a two person tarp over a solo is usually negligible compared to the benefits of larger coverate.

Gossamer Gear SpinnTwinn
Probably the most popular tarp around, perhaps because it is so easy to set up. With just a couple of trekking poles (I use Gossamer Gear's LT4 poles which are a match made in heaven) you'll have it up in under five minutes. The catenary curve limits its pitching options a little more than a straight cut tarp, but creates a very taut pitch that rain just trickles off. The taut pitch is important as spinnaker is a fairly noisy material, and a well stretched pitch will limit any unpleasant nocturnal flapping (from the tarp... other wind noises are your own problem). I recommend switching out the provided spectracore line for a slightly thicker (maybe 2mm) cord. I find spectracore stretches when wet, causing the line to slip in the corner and side linelocs. The SpinnTwinn weighs a mere 238g before seam sealing and without the cords attached, and costs $175.

Gossamer Gear also make a more enclosed, solo version (the SpinnShelter), and a super light cuben fiber version, the CubicTwinn, weighing just 156g, but costing $335. For the most bang for your buck, you can't beat the SpinnTwinn.

Backpacking Light gave the SpinnTwinn a coveted "highly recommended" rating, which you can read with a membership subscription here. The ubiquitous Mr. Morkel also liked his, at least until he got a...

Hyperlight Mountain Gear Echo I / Echo II

The HMG Echo is a nice modular tarp system. It takes the traditional rectangular tarp design and adds a few elements to make it more suitable for a range of conditions. The tarp itself is not dissimilar to the SpinnTwinn or CubicTwinn, but the accessories make it an interesting shelter. The beak encloses the front, and the inner transforms it into an integrated double-wall, bug-free shelter. As with all cuben fiber gear, it's a bit pricey at $270 for the Echo I, and $295 for the Echo II. As there's only a 1oz difference between the two (the Echo II tarp comes in at 9oz / 255g incl. lines) once again it pays to get the larger size.

I like the look of it, and so do Hendrik and Benjamin. Phil even thinks the beak can be used as a mini tarp, but then he likes dressing up as a penguin.

Many of the ultralight tarps use exotic materials and designs, and consequently cost a lot of money. However, if you're on a budget, there are a lot of basic rectangular tarps which in some ways are more flexible as they offer an almost infinite variety of pitching options. While writing this article, Tookie recommended a Alpkit Rig 7 tarp, which weighs 497g / 17.5oz, seems like a pretty good deal at around £45.

In-betweenies
There is one shelter that has risen in popularity recently that, being semi-enclosed but doorless, doesn't fit into either of the main categories:

MLD TrailStar

Falling somewhere between an open tarp and a pyramid shelter, Mountain Laurel Design's TrailStar has proven very popular, especially it seems with bloggers in the UK. It might well be that its combination of luxurious space, simplicity of pitching, and the open "alcove"style entrance is perfect for the inclement British weather. Many people claim that its wind-shedding abilities are unsurpassed, and it certainly looks very sturdy for its 16oz / 450g of silnylon. It's a good example of a shelter that suits a particular climate, I think, and I'd hesitate to make it my main shelter in Lapland where, as it were, I need closure.

For persuasive arguments in its favour, seek out Summit and Valley, Colin Ibbottson, and Steven Horner. If you want to see how easy it is to pitch, check out this awesome video at The Pain Cave.

Pyramid Shelters
Basically, a tarp with a door, constructed typically (but not always) around a single pole to create a super-sturdy single-wall shelter. Not all are pyramid shaped, but it serves as a good indicative categorization.

MLD DuoMid
By far the most popular pyramid shelter of them all, Mountain Laurel Designs knocked out another winner with the DuoMid. With their excellent construction and array of build-to-order options, the DuoMid is, perhaps, an ideal shelter. Pitch it open, pitch it low, get it with a bug netting perimeter, use it in winter (although it'll take longer to pitch) – it's such a good all-rounder. 16oz in silnylon, 12 oz in cuben fiber. But don't take my word for it. Witness the joys of yellow, grey and white at Thunder in the Night, Nielsen Brown Outdoors, Andy Howell, and Section Hiker.

As with rectangular tarps, the are many imitation DuoMids out there, so check the links at the end for other (often more readily available) options (e.g., Locus Gear).

GoLite Shangri-La 2 & 3
Look! The same pick as Backpacker! The Shangri-La, a twin-pole, single wall, pyramid-ish shelter gets a good testing from Nielsen Brown Outdoors who was very happy with its performance in Lapland recently. Alpinist like it too.

If I really wanted to carry 2 to 3lbs of shelter, rather than Backpacker's choice of the Nemo, I'd go for the Shangri-La 3 – a teepee style construction that looks very nice (2lb 7oz / 1.13kg). Find out more at Bill's Magical Mystery Tour, or Mud and Routes.

There is one very good reason why I wouldn't buy a Shangri-La 3, but it isn't out yet: the Laufbursche Lavvu. This is something I am looking forward to immensely. 500g of Sami-inspired shelter? Tall enough for a giant? Oh yes. Count me in.

Double-Wall Tents
There is one clear winner in the double-wall popularity contest:

Terra Nova Laser Competition (and expensive variations thereof)
Clearly riffing off the Hilleberg Akto, the Laser Comp (930g) gets a recommended rating from Backpacking LIght (members only).

The cuben fiber version, the Laser Ultra 1, also gets a recommended rating from BPL, a rave review from Petesy, and some criticism from Colin Ibbotson. If you can afford the £650 for the 580g f the world's lightest double wall shelter, then you are both wealthier, luckier, and no doubt happier than I.

Lesser mortals might instead choose a...

Tartpent Scarp 1 & 2
Once all the rage, now not so much (perhaps owing to some reported quality issues), Henry Shires Tarptent Scarp (1 = 1.36kg / 48oz; 2 = 1.7kg / 60oz) got a recommended at BPL, a favourable review at Blogpacking Light, hesitant approval from Section Hiker, and tainted love from Backpacking Bongos.

Lastly, Gossamer Gear used to make a popular little 1lb tent called The One for fans of The Matrix. Sadly due to manufacturing problems they appear to have discontinued it.

Single Wall Tents
Favourites with alpinists and winter ski-tourers for their quick erections (the tent, not the climber/skier, although having said that...), the current belle of the single wall would be the...

Black Diamond Firstlight
Certainly overkill for summer, it makes a great, rapidly deployed winter shelter, when you really don't want to be messing around with snow anchors and DuoMids unless you've already lost all your toes to frostbite. Check it out at Alpinist, BPL (still members only, sorry), Section Hiker (of course), and Thunder in the Night. But watch out, Black Diamond... Mountain Hardwear has been spying on you...

Hammocks
Two hammocks stand tall (if a hammock do that) above the rest: the Hennessey Hyperlight Aysm Classic (1lb 9oz / 700g), and the Warbonnet BlackBird (weights vary, but around 24oz / 680g). I know nothing about Hammocks, but you can read reviews from users at Backpacking Light: Hennessey / Warbonnet. If you are interested, Hammock Forums is a good place to begin your research.

Poncho Tarps
While I wouldn't recommend the uninitiated leaping with both feet into poncho tarp camping, there are several manufacturers catering to those with a hankering for some multi-use rain gear. Check out MLD's Silnylon Poncho Pro, Jacks'R'Better, Integral Designs SilPoncho, and Six Moon Designs Gatewood Cape. or the GoLite Poncho Tarp. Mud and Routes has a review of the latter so you can see what you're getting into!

Other sites with alternative and additional info etc.
Brian Green has a great intro post on ultralight shelters.
Trailspace also offers a good post that covers hammocks too.
BPL: More than you'll ever need to know about condensation.
BPL: More than you'll ever need to know about catenary curves.

I fully expect that I have missed some gear considered essential by others, and I happily welcome recommendations and suggestions in the comments.

Manufacturers

Mountain Laurel Designs

Hyperlight Mountain Gear

Gossamer Gear

Katabatic Gear

Locus Gear
OookWorks
Six Moon Designs

GoLite
Black Diamond

Integral Designs

Nemo
Terra Nova
TarpTent
ZPacks
Hennessey Hammocks
Warbonnet Outdoors

Part 4: Change your bedding >>

Ultralight Makeover: Redux Pt. 2 - Downsize Your Pack

2011-08-05T15:16:00.007-05:00

Part 2 of a 12-part series in which Backpacking North analyzes Backpacker magazine's recommendations to reduce your pack weight, and offers a more comprehensive selection of tips and gear recommendations from the blogosphere.

<< Part 1: Admit you have a problem

2. Downsize your pack.

Backpacker says: "For the lightest load, choose a pack that weighs less than two pounds and keep your total payload below 25 pounds (our pick: the GoLite Jam Pack [mens | womens], $150, 1lb 15oz)." Alternatively, should you want the best of both worlds (a light pack, with big load-carrying ability), they recommend a Granite Gear Blaze [mens | womens] for $200, and weighing in at 2lbs, 15oz.

Backpacking North says: Backpacker's optimum suggestion barely squeezes in at under two pounds. I think we can do better than that and still maintain a good level of comfort.

The thing to bear in mind when selecting an ultralight pack is that your pack weight is going to be so much lower – especially for the short weekend trip which we are focusing on – so the load-bearing requirements of your pack can be less. It is not absolutely necessary to have a pack frame to support your load, as this can be achieved with careful packing. Nor is a complex and heavy hip belt system with an integrated free-floating suspension system desirable. Once you eliminate these two traditional mainstays of the backpack, you can easily get the initial weight of your pack down to around 1lb or 500g.

Frames vs. frameless
As mentioned above, with an ultralight load you should be carrying far less weight, so the load-bearing demands put on your pack will be considerable lessened. The corollary of this is that with a lighter load you will be able to hike further and longer, so it's still important that you are able to carry your pack comfortably over longer periods and distances.

Traditionally, a frame helps to maintain pack shape and carrying position. But the addition of a frame – typically taking the form of metal stays – adds a lot of weight to a pack. Some UL packs offer the best of both worlds by providing removable stays, so if your load is bulky or heavier you can leave the stays in if you wish. But if your load is lighter and you employ a good packing strategy, you don't necessarily need a frame. Another alternative to the more standard metal stays is a plastic, removable framesheet. Lighter in weight, but still offering some structural support, it's a good option. But what we're really interested in is doing away with the frame altogether.

When you see a frameless backpack for the first time, it seems impossibly flimsy and shockingly light. Most schoolkid's backpacks are heavier. Can something this insubstantial really carry enough gear comfortably for a weekend trip? The secret is in the way you pack. Instead of a fitted frame, you simply use the items you take with you to create a frame or structure inside the pack. The easiest way to do this is with your sleeping mat. Simply roll the mat loosely to fill the pack and create a kind of burrito in which you'll stuff the rest of your gear. Alternatively or, as I generally do, fold your deflated air pad (I use a POE Ether Elite 6) to create a torso sized framesheet.

Then it's simply a matter of packing everything else in to create a nice, tight bundle that carries comfortably. We'll be looking a little more closely at that in part 10.

Hipbelts vs. weight concerns
It is always better to transfer as much of the weight of your pack to the hips, rather than to the shoulders. You'll know when you have a poorly fitted pack. At the end of a day's hiking, your shoulders will be killing you. This, I find, is as true for ultralight backpacking as it is for traditional heavyweight backpacking. The amount of pain is different, of course, but I've had aching shoulders with a lightweight pack.

Heavy backpacks often have elaborate hip belts, and they need to because the packs are designed for people carrying everything including the kitchen sink into the wilderness – with a 15kg pack you're going to want a thick hip belt. But with a total pack weight less than around 8kg, the hip belt can be a lot simpler, or in extreme super ultralight cases, it can be dispensed with altogether.

Personally, I like to have some form of decent hip belt to take most of the weight off of my shoulders. it can be as simple as a slip of unpadded Dyneema, but it needs to be able to distribute some of the load onto my pelvic area.

My Laufbursche huckePACK has a very nice hipbelt – just right, providing enough support to take the weight, while not adding much to the weight of the pack. My MLD Burn, on the other hand, while not that dissimilar, carries less well. But there is another reason for that...

Sizing and fitting
When packs become simpler, they generally lose a lot of flexibility when it comes to sizing adjustments. With a heavy pack you often can adjust the torso length, for example, to meet your specific anatomical peculiarities. Again, all those straps and attachment systems add to the weight of the pack. Most ultralight packs dispense with the fine-tuning and come in three sizes (small, medium, large) for different torso lengths. A few manufactures (notably Granite Gear and GoLite) offer variations of their packs designed for women, which is always a good thing. For a comfortable carry, it's vital to choose a pack that fits well – and not all packs will. It's possible you'll find what seems like the perfect lightweight pack, only to discover it simply doesn't feel comfortable when loaded. Should this happen, avoid the temptation of buying that otherwise perfect pack, for I guarantee it will transform your pleasant hike into an arduous slog.

Another feature common to heavy packs, but frequently (sadly) omitted from lightweight packs are load lifters. These shoulder-mounted straps pull the top of the pack in close to your body, and create a much better carrying position. It's essential to have the weight hug your shoulders, rather than tugging away from them. Some hardcore ultralighters might argue that with an extremely light load, load lifters become irrelevant. I would argue that any load when carried for extremely long distances will be felt eventually, and a small sacrifice in weight for a pair of load lifters makes a huge difference to your carrying ability and stamina. We can go ultralight and still maintain comfort.

Bells and whistles
A heavy backpack is positively loaded with non-essential straps, pockets, dividers, pockets, load adjusters, pockets, lids, tie-off points, pockets, and additional pockets.

An ultralight backpack typically has one compartment, two or three mesh pockets on the outside, and some lightweight compression cords, and that's about it. Many packs forego a lid for a simple roll-top closure system which keeps rain or spindrift out. The large exterior mesh pockets are ideal for stuffing damp shelters in. A couple of side pockets keep essential items and water handy. A single compartment is really all you need, and cuts out a bunch of extra material and zippers.

Durability and materials
Ultralight packs today are made out of a variety of materials, with two perhaps proving the most popular: DyneemaX and Cuben Fiber. DyneemaX is a durable, strong, water resistant fabric, while Cuben Fiber is extremely lightweight but less durable. It's also very expensive, but, in white, looks very hip and cool. I tend to go for Dyneema for durability and price reasons. There are of course other materials in use, but these are by far the most visible at present.

Cutting corners
The gram counters out there will eagerly take a pair of scissors to a new pack and cut off extraneous straps and labels, shearing whole fractions of an ounce off the weight of the pack. This may seem utterly obsessive and crazy, but don't be surprised to catch yourself doing it. It's perfectly acceptable, and you will not be alone.

Which came first, the pack or the load?
It's a little odd that Backpacker chose to begin it's guide to seeking the tao of ultralight with the cold turkey option of choosing a lighter pack. A ultralight pack is not much use if you don't have lightweight, compressible, compact gear to put inside it – they are simply too small to contain much traditionally sized and weighted gear. Unless you already have a nice, light, down bag and a tiny shelter, you'll fill your new pack with your heavier versions of those items, leaving no room for any other gear or food. Enjoy your trip!

However, Backpacker's pack selections are quite generous in the pack volume department, so it is feasible to get either a Jam or a Blaze and pack a lot of your existing gear in – it just won't be particularly light... yet.

I would say, unless you happen to have a lot of disposable income, most people making the transition to a lighter load would begin with the contents of the pack rather than the pack itself. A one-step-at-a-time approach is easier on the wallet and gives you the opportunity to test the waters before committing to a new obsession (and I promise you, it will become an obsession).

There are so many niche (and increasingly mainstream) manufacturers making lightweight packs today, your options a many and varied. Rather than list every single product and overwhelm you with data, I'll focus first on my "transition to ultralight" experience, then look at what other bloggers are currently favoring.

Backpacking North's Backpacks
My first foray into the ultralight bewilderness also began with some advice from Backpacker. I wanted to get a lighter pack, but at the time wasn't really aware of the ultralight community and the underlying philosophies and principles. I eventually opted for a Granite Gear Vapor Trail, a pack beloved of Appalachian Trail thru-hikers (or so I'm led to believe), and made by a company in my temporary new home of Minnesota. The website says it all really: "So you're ready to take the next step. You've got your pack weight doen to 30 pounds [13.6kg] or less." By no means truly ultralight, then, the pack's weight of 1kg / 2lb 5oz was still a significant improvement on my old Halti traditional pack (mine, to be precise, weighs 1104g). It has an exchangeable hip belt which, I must admit, is very comfortable. It is quoted at 59l / 3600c.in, but it has a huge roll-top collar – and I mean ridiculously huge – so you could carry a lot more than that if you were so inclined.

The author sports a fetching Vapor Trail.

The design is quite unusual – the side pockets are a stretchy lycra-like material, and instead of a front pocket, there is a system of straps which can be used to attach a sleeping pad, tent, or other long object, but isn't too practical for a tarp or other lightweight shelter. The lower section, where a sleeping bag might be placed inside, bulges out, creating a slight teardrop shape. While I still have the Vapor Trail in the gear closet, it has been relegated to winter use at the moment. My current three-season gear simply doesn't fill it up enough. For an extended hike it might prove useful though.

As I started to get more and more lightweight gear, the capacity of the Vapor Trail was just way too much. I started looking for a really small pack, and settled on a Mountain Laurel Designs Burn. This is a tiny pack – tall and thin, frameless, with tiny straps, a thin hip belt (more a hip strap), a fixed size, and weighing a delightful 414g / 14.6oz. Now we're talking! Excited, I wrote a little bit about it here.

Mountain Laurel Designs Burn

This was seriously lightweight in comparison to the "ultralight" Vapor Trail. For a weekend trip with a full complement of light gear, it's a great pack. However, I found that the long torso size was still a little short for me, and the hip belt sat too high on my waist. As I've already said, my load in this pack is very light, so the hip belt isn't so essential. However, combine that with the fact that there are also no load lifters, and I can tell you that after three days I noticed I was carrying it mainly on my shoulders.

When I purchased the Burn, what I really wanted was a new pack that wasn't even on the market yet – the (almost literally) legendary Laufbursche huckePACK. I finally managed to get hold of one last year and ever since it has become my pack of choice (or my go-to pack, as the Backpacker editors might have me say).

Laufbursche huckePACK inaction

Like the Burn, it's made of DyneemaX (although Cuben and Silnylon versions are available), is frameless, has mesh pockets, and a thin hip belt (which can be strapped out of the way, should you wish). However, because the belt sits on my hips where it should, and the shoulder straps are ergonomically shaped, it is an extremely comfortable carry. What's more, heaven be praised, it has load lifters! Simple ones, for sure, but they do the job splendidly. The ample mesh pockets fit my shelter (and even a snow claw for winter). Going against the tide of UL fashion, it has a pack lid (with a zippered pocket – how quaint!) which is again quite simple but helps in creating a good pack structure.

The huckePACK is roomy, but not excessively so.
In this image it is packed with an uncompressed quilt to give an idea of
capacity. It can be packed much smalled, and this is part of its flexibility.
There is plenty of room for gear for a multi-day trip, and the
internal space is easily filled without the need to compress everything.

It weighs 534g / 19oz with the hip belt pockets I ordered, so more than the Burn, but it is larger and, in my opinion, superior. They are still a little hard to get hold of, but you can email Laufbursche for more info. But don't just take my word for it – there are a bunch of other happy huckePACK owners out there who will attest to its greatness. Check out the links at the end of the article.

What others say...
Ultralight packs are a dime a dozen these days. Well, maybe not a dime – the costs of small cottage manufacturers make their unique offerings a little on the expensive side, but I'm a big fan of supporting small independent businesses. Here are a few packs that popular with other bloggers, but I welcome and hope for recommendations highlighting other packs worthy of consideration in the comments.

Gossamer Gear Gorilla
This one pops up a lot, and appears to be a great pack. It's a very decent 23 oz / 658g considering it has foam shoulder straps, a removable foam hip belt, an aluminum curved stay which is removable (so you can reduce pack weight even more if you wish), and a sit pad which doubles as a padding for your back. I've never seen one, and Gossamer Gear never did get back to me about their Trail Ambassador program (hint hint), but if I was looking to buy my first ultralight backpack today, this would be high on my list. No load lifters though. A pity. Read reviews at Section Hiker, and Nielsen Brown Outdoors. It also made Joe's Gear of the Year, and I have heard Martin Rye call it both "superb" and "top kit". High praise indeed.

Laufbursche huckePACK / huckePACKchen
The original huckePACK is a firm favourite among the cognoscenti. Prized and coveted alike, you can read reviews at Lighthiker, right here, and, with a membership, at Backpacking Light.

Laufbursche also offers a smaller pack – the huckePACKchen in cuben fiber, which cuts back even more on the ounces (and capacity). Take a look at hrxxlight's excellent review. The beef? It comes in at a measly 210g, or 7oz, for €150. Take that, GoLite.

Mountain Laurel Designs Prophet / Exodus
MLD make great gear – though you'll have to wait for it to be made. The Prophet and Exodus have a good reputation and are larger than the Burn or their even more minuscule Newt packs (forthcoming). Check out Jason Klaas's review of the Exodus, and, Martin Rye's review of the Prophet.

Hyperlight Mountain Gear Windrider
The Windrider is another new kid on the block, but has been getting some excellent reviews. It's a touch on the expensive side, but if you're feeling plush, you can read more about it at Utah Outside and Active Gear Review. Even Backpacker like it (in their typically hyperbolic way, although they have featured rather a lot of HMG gear recently, which makes me a little suspicious).

Other perennial favorites
ULA Ohm
Six Moon Designs Starlight
Z-Packs Blast

Links
Probably the most comprehensive and up-to-date analysis of the ultralight backpack state of the market can be found at Backpacking Light (membership required). The Backpacking Light forums are also an excellent source of reader reviews (free to all).

Want to see learn to pack a frameless pack? Hendrik has you covered.

Manufacturers
Mountain Laurel Designs
Laufbursche
Granite Gear
GoLite
Gossamer Gear
Six Moon Designs
Z-Packs
Hyperlight Mountain Gear
Osprey
REI

Part 3: Ditch your dome >>

Ultralight Makeover: Redux Pt. 1

2011-07-18T12:44:00.005-05:00

Recent issues of popular US backpacking magazine Backpacker have shown an increased awareness of ultralight hiking techniques and gear. While this awareness certainly hasn't challenged the predominance of heavy equipment and traditional methods, the presence of a Hyperlight Mountain Gear tarp and a FlyWeight packraft earlier this year was pleasantly surprising.

Imagine my joy, then, at this month's cover:

Have I crossed over into an alternative dimension? Has Hell frozen over? There, right on the front page, for heaven's sake: Ultralight Comfort: 12 Easy Ways to Shed Weight and Camp in Style.

I was naturally interested in what Backpacker's idea of ultralight was. It often seems that the magazine is crippled by corporate sponsorship as the gear suggestions nearly always come from the big names: Patagonia, Mountain Hardwear, REI, the North Face, Arcteryx. Not that there's anything wrong with that: those companies make some great gear (albeit at the cost of brand-inflated prices – I'm looking at you, Arcteryx!). How would they fare at making an ultralight packing list from such brands? Could they get through the article ignore the entire ultralight cottage industry that has pretty much defined and established the niche market? I thought this would be an interesting opportunity to examine their recommendations and compare them to my own, and those of others in the UL blogosphere, and hopefully generate some commentary from other bloggers also.

As offering a more in-depth look at Backpacker's 12 steps would make this the post to end all posts, I'm splitting each step into a separate post, transforming it into an Ultralight Makeover Guide which will be presented over the coming weeks.

So without further ado, let's take a look at step one in their programme for going ultralight, and see what we can improve upon.

1. Admit you have a problem.
Backpacker says: Load up your pack for a summer weekend trip. If it weighs more than 15lbs (7kg), you have a problem.

Backpacking North says: Well, this is a fair start. Not really a tip, but it's fair to say that if your weekender weight is over 15lb, you probably fall into the heavyweight category. I think it's more than likely that most of the magazine's readership would be carrying packs far in excess of 15lb – probably at least 30lb (14kg).

A 15lb/7kg load (assuming it includes food, fuel and water) is not particularly heavy. It falls into the category of lightweight packing:

> 20lb / 10kg = Heavyweight
12-20lb / 5-10kg = Lightweight
6-11lb / 3-5kg = Ultralight
< 6lb / 3kg = Super Ultralight

But beyond the figures, what does this all mean? In my opinion, not much. It doesn't really matter which category you fall into. Whether you end up lightweight or ultralight, it really doesn't matter. The ultimate goal is simply to lighten your load. It should be said that "super ultralighters" are extremely dedicated to the cause. To get that light takes a level of sacrifice in gear durability and comfort which you might not want to leap straight into. Better to take things one step at a time. As we'll see over the coming weeks, any attempt to lighten up requires a willingness to reconsider one's needs when backpacking. It necessitates cutting out luxury items (which are rarely, if ever, used), modifying techniques and the expectations you have of your gear. What it doesn't mean is putting yourself through an endurance test. There's no reason not to indulge yourself in something that you like to take along with you. Lightening you load means taking that platy full of whisky all that much easier.

So why go ultralight? As mentioned above, the basic point it to make your load lighter. With a lighter load you can hike faster, further and put less of a burden on your body. Not that you have to hike faster or further - the most important benefit in my opinion is the lessened burden on your body. A lighter load will make you less tired. You'll be more willing to pick up your pack again. You'll ache less. Perhaps most importantly, it'll be better for you in the long run. A light load facilitates hiking to a ripe old age.

A heavyweight hiker in Northern Minnesota. Note the additional side packs.
This was a two-night trip.

For me, the question is better put as why wouldn't you go lighter? Why would anyone want to haul a ton around on their back? Being in the wild shouldn't be an endurance test. I'd like to see a shift in people's mentality from boasting about how heavy their packs are, to how light they are. Backpacking shouldn't be about suffering – it should be about enjoying. With a light pack, you'll soon find you don't even notice the weight on your back, and consequently you are able to give your full attention to the wonders that surround you. It's quite a transformation.

Yours truly on the same trip.

But to get back to the issue of weight. Backpacker's 15lb/7kg cut off point is a fair enough value to set as a starting point for reducing your pack weight. For a summer weekender, where weather and conditions fall within a fairly predictable range, you should easily be able to get your load under 15lb. And if you can get it down to 10lb (5kg) that's even better.

But how?

The first thing you need to do is address the core weight of heavy loads: your "big three" – sleeping, shelter, and pack. And as this has been covered far better by others, let's turn to them and see what they have to say on the matter.

Others say: There are a ton of websites and books covering ultralight backpacking, each with its own variation on a theme regarding the right approach. One of the clearest and simplest I've seen was by Jörgen Johansson at Fjäderlätt. He espouses simple principle of 3 for 3 (or 343) that succinctly deals with reducing the weight of your "big three." Put simply, if you can get the total weight of your sleeping system, your shelter, and your pack down to 3kg (6.5lb) or less, you are well on your way to ultralight. 3 items for 3 kg. It's that simple.

Some sleeping bags alone weigh more than 2kg. Heavy, inefficient synthetic materials easily add up to a lot of weight. Tags, zips, hoods, and other bizzarre additions add even more. Before you know it, you're hauling around something enormous, about the same size, shape, and weight as one of these.

Many traditional hikers rely on the venerable tent for shelter. But add up the weight of those heavy materials, the numerous poles used to create the sculpted geodesic work of art, and the additional footprint/groundsheet (to protect those heavy materials) and soon you're looking at three or four kilos.

My Haglöfs Genius 21 dome tent. Great shelter. Weighs a ton. It's actually quite complicated to put up.
Although I have a smaller solo Hileberg tent, I used to often take this anyway for the "extra space".
When I look back at those times, I think "Was I mad?"

Then you dig out your pack – made of even more heavy-duty materials, with a floating suspension system, 24 pockets, and a bunch of plastic things that don't really seem to have a purpose – which itself weighs 2kg before you've even put anything inside it.

And then you realise; you have three items weighing around 7kg (15lb). And you haven't even packed your food and bottle of wine yet! Let along your stove and fuel. And your clothes. And all the gadgets.

But consider this: What if your sleeping system were to weigh 850g? Your shelter 700g? Your pack 450g? The total for your big three would be 2kg (4.5lb). A saving of 5kg (10.5lb). This is my typical summer 343 weight – and I am by no means a hardcore ultralighter. If I can do it, you can too.

My current "medium" light weight setup, as outlined above, weighs approx. 2kg for the big three.
I still have plenty of extra space.

Ultralight backpacking is all about cutting back to the basics, refining your equipment, and asking what you really need – and that is what we'll be looking at in the weeks ahead.

Part 2 – Downsize your pack >>

Links and resources (general info on lightening your load):
Fjäderlätt 343
Backpacking Light – Probably the best online community resource for reviews, information, and tips.
Nordic Lightpacking – Nordic lightweight mafiosi, with plenty of tips and trip reports.
Ryan Jordan - Do a ultralight course! Like the site says "Explore your wild side (without having to drink your pee.)"
Plus many, many, many blogs. Check the blogroll on the right to get starterd.

Stores
UK - Ultralight Outdoor Gear
USA - Prolite Gear

Manufacturers of ultralight gear – where often the best equipment is to be found – will be linked as relevant in the upcoming Ultralight Makeover posts.

Used Gear
Europe: Nordic Lightpacking Gear Swap
USA: Backpacking Light Gear Swap

Videos
Ultralight A-Z by Hiking in Finland – Tired of reading? Hendrik Morkel has a project underway to make the first ever video A-Z of ultralight backpacking. You can be a part of the project by supporting it on Kickstarter.

Magazines

Backpacker Magazine – I honestly don't recommend the website; it has one of the most godawful navigation systems ever devised. Content is hidden on pages which have no links apart from those printed in the magazine. I challenge you to find information on the current issue, for example – something you would expect a website for a magazine would emphasize. The magazine is okay, but tends to repeat itself each year. But hey, print is dead, right? Talking of which:

Books
Smarter Backpacking by Jörgen Johansson (Amazon.co.uk)
Lighten Up!: A Complete Handbook for Light and Ultralight Backpacking by Don Ladigin and Mike clelland
Ultralight Backpackin' Tips: 153 Amazing & Inexpensive Tips for Extremely Lightweight Camping by Mike Clelland
Trail Life: Ray Jardine's Lightweight Backpacking

Another kind of freedom

2011-07-06T16:31:00.000-05:00

When I asked a friend, "Hey - do you want to paddle down Minnehaha Creek next Monday?", it didn't cross my mind for a second that next Monday was July 4th, America's great celebration of independence from the tea-guzzling evil British Empire - a day Americans normally spend burning the Union Jack and stomping furiously on hot cross buns.

Okay, not really. Well, not in Minnesota.

In any case, this was a big weekend - a major holiday in the land of the free (where most people don't have a lot of free time because they're holding down four jobs so they can pay off their debt, college fees, and healthcare bills - but hey, let's not quibble semantics). A pity, then, that political duelling in the state capitol resulted in a government shutdown, resulting in all state parks closing down during the busiest weekend of the year. My friend was worried that the put-ins on the creek would also be closed, but I was more concerned about the volume of water flowing through it. This year, the tiny river running through the heart of Minneapolis has had up to seven times its normal volume. I was concerned that my newbie packrafting skills would not be up to the speed of the creek as is passed through the swanky neighborhood of Edina, making its sharp twists and turns past the grandiose homes of the plastically-enhanced Minnesotan elite.

We went on a reconnoitre expedition in the morning to check the conditions, having heard that some bridges were impassable owing to high water. Fortunately, the water volume had reduced, and, apart from a few downed trees in the middle of some exciting class II rapids, it all looked pretty good. We decided to celebrate our freedom from the tyranny of state-owned park ownership, government shutdown be damned.

We weren't the only ones.

I was a little nervous while inflating the Denali Llama. I don't know why; it's a very tame river but it's also been a while since I've been on one, and this was the first time I'd taken the raft in any kind of current. As I filled the cheerful blue raft with air, several children drifted by on inner tubes. Ian was a little concerned for their safety with the downed strainers, but I figured if a 10 year old can do this without a paddle, I have nothing to worry about. They seemed to be having a whale of a time. Of course in a tube you don't really have to worry about getting wet, as this is your default starting position, but I expected to get a good soaking anyway. It's all par for the course.

We set off, and immediately hit a series of rapids, fast turns, and strainers spanning the entire width of the creek! The kids in the inner tubes had either got out or somehow managed to negotiate their way past. I, on the other hand, had a quick lesson in trying to get over a downed tree while sitting in a raft being pulled in two directions at once (the wrong direction, and under the tree). But with a little effort and some gentle persuasion, I found a way past the obstacle, marvelling at the sturdiness of the Alpacka raft. I would probably have not got any further in a lesser, vinyl raft.

Fortunately, after the initial twisty-turny section, the creek calmed down a little and I was able to practise actually controlling the boat a little more. I got used to back-paddling to stay in place in the stream or slow down. I figured out that the lack of tracking can be problematic in a stream, and frequent rapid paddling is necessary across the current to avoid obstacles. The kayaks that swept by us occasionally had no problem maintaining a nice line, but without thigh-straps the packraft likes to spin around and go where the river wants to take you. It's fantastically maneuverable, but with that comes the price of unpredictability - at least in my inexperienced hands.

As we drifted downstream, I found myself enjoying the rapids, and looking forward to them. We're not talking major rapids here, but some nice 30cm waves that give enough of a thrill - enough to provide a brief moment of bander-snatchage as the stern was sucked back into a wave trough, and water spilled down behind my back and into the raft. Some rapid, determined paddling averted anything beyond a minor soaking, but the experience reiterated my belief that the new Alpacka stern designs would limit this a little more, and that, if I ever buy one of these, I will definitely get a fitted spray skirt! Going down anything even slightly more exciting than a basic class II without one would not be wise.

We stopped for a moment for a bite to eat, watching a couple of children drifting downstream using just their PFDs. They jumped out by us, ran up the river bank, and did it again, over and over, delighted. It was great to watch them enjoying themselves so much. When I was a boy, I was always a little afraid of water. I didn't learn to swim until I was 32, and always envied other children splashing around or playing in the water. I'm no olympic medallist now, but I'm making up for lost time and opportunities.

One thing is certain though - paddling and photography do not mix. I took my iPhone in my Haglöfs Watatait case (thankfully, as otherwise I would now be without a phone), but a better option would be a GoPro Hero, helmet- or otherwise-mounted, and set to record either video or time-lapse images. Every time I got ready to take a photo the creek would turn and I'd have to quickly shove the camera somewhere safe. I tried shooting some video, but it looks more like the Blair Witch Project in a boat.

We stopped for a late lunch, which turned into a lengthy discussion of politics and whitewater rafting in Washington, before putting-in once again for the final stretch to Nokomis, where we had left the other car. I forgot to temper the raft at this point, so for the last couple of miles I endured a rather floppy and not very streamlined float along some flat water that took a lot of effort to paddle. My mistake. I wasn't supple enough to bend and use the inflation tube.

It was a beautiful afternoon, something I'd love to do again. There are so many rivers and creeks in Minnesota to explore, most of them gentle little things that drift along through bluffs and cottonwood-lined valleys. To have something like Minnehaha in the center of Minneapolis is something quite special though - a relaxing ride with a couple of fun runs, all for free.

That's my kind of freedom. Government shutdown be damned.

Testing the Waters

2011-06-17T12:16:00.000-05:00

I know, I know... it's been an age since I last posted. The cobwebs have been growing in the corners of the blog (blogwebs?) so it's time for a spot of dusting, and a quick paddle.

Packrafts, in case you hadn't noticed, are all the rage at the moment. Roman Dial got everyone excited about it, Andrew Skurka travelled halfway around Alaska in one, Ryan Jordan loves it, Hendrik can't keep his hands off his, Jaakko just got one, even Phil and Steve got their oars wet. Being a zietgeisty kind of guy, I wanted in on the action. I could see that a packraft would be a perfect addition to life in Lapland. A lightweight, solid, inflatable raft to take anywhere, cross anything? With all the water in Lapland (and in Finland at large), it's a no-brainer.

Except for the price.

As soon as you get involved with water, your initial investments start to accumulate. It's not just the packraft – an Alpacka Denali Llama is a sunny $820 – but the paddle, the PFD, the drysuit if you want one. It all adds up to a lot of money. More than my poor starving artist salary could possibly afford. But outdoor people are such a wonderful bunch, and I happily accepted an offer from Mr. Jordan to lend me his spare Denali Llama.

I've only been able to take it out a couple of times for test paddles on flat water. This year's floods have lasted an unusually long time, and I'm not confident enough to risk another person's boat on an unpredictable and unknown river in flood. But nonetheless, I'll make hay while the sun shines, and make the most of the ample lakes around Minneapolis to get used to the different techniques required by a lightweight inflatable.

My MLD Burn pack makes a perfect day pack for the Denali Llama. It's quite amazing that so much boat fits into something so small.

The inflation sack provided with the raft makes quick work of inflating the raft. With about ten squeezes, the silnylon bag had filled the raft with air. But as Roman Dial's excellent guide to Packrafting points out, it's important not to just head straight out onto the water.

Because the air temperature in the tubes is much higher than the water temperature, the raft will deflate quite a lot when you put it in the water. For that reason, you need to really soak the raft before you head out, and re-inflate using the handy valve on the side.

With that done, I was ready to go.

It's an odd feeling at first, to feel the water rippling under you. I'd padded the seat using a 4-piece Z-Lite, and I soon got used to the proximity to water. I was surprised, for some reason, at how low I sat in the water. The large tubes make it appear as if you will be sitting quite high, but in face you are at about the same height as in a kayak.

And man, is this thing maneuverable! I knew that inflatables are notoriously easy to turn, and get swung around in currents, but still I was surprised. The paddling technique requires a firm downward, almost vertical stroke to prevent a wildly oscillating path. Unlike a kayak, which has an element of forgiveness in the design (especially with sea kayaks), the packraft will zig-zag all over the place. However, once you get into the habit of making steep strokes, you can maintain a pretty straight line.

The advantage of this incredible responsiveness will be in the ability to quickly maneuver around obstacles. I tried a technique outlined in the Packrafting book, in which a wider forward stroke is followed immediately by a backward push, and the boat swirled in the water instantly. In fact, backward paddling is by far the fastest way to turn in a hurry. (This might not be so much the case in the new models with the more pointy stern. Also, the new designs should track straighter in the water.)

Although nowhere near as fast as a kayak, it's possible to keep a pretty good pace going. I can definitely see the benefit of having a fitted skirt to protect from splashes. I fully anticipated getting wet on this occasion, and I succeeded admirably. For longer trips a splash skirt would be essential.

Taking photographs with an expensive touch-screen phone is not very practical while packrafting, but these things must be attempted for the sake of documentation.

All-in-all, it was a very enjoyable experience. I hope to take it out on a gentle river before I return it, to get a sense of how it handles in a current. I'm really not into running whitewater beyond a class II rapid, but who knows – these bugs bite very easily, and once bitten, they leave their mark.

Purchasing one is still a little way off; maybe next year. One of the reasons the blog has been a little neglected of late is that I landed some writing work for a game producer. After writing all day, the last thing I want to do is come home and write some more. Add the upcoming life changes to that and you'll understand if blogging continues to take a back seat for a little while. The upswing of work is money, and if everything works out, I'll be in a much better position upon my return to Lapland in December, ready for new adventures. Who knows, next year a packraft might not seem like such an impossible purchase after all!

Those interested in the packrafting phenomenon should check out:
Alpacka Packrafts - Super-rugged packrafts for the connoisseur
Flyweight Designs - Lighter, cheaper, but less rugged. They just announced the FlyteWater, a more rugged version for $465.

Wild River State Park

2011-05-02T12:57:00.000-05:00

After what seemed like an eternity, a window of opportunity opened. I'd been getting crabby and a little depressed at home, sure signs that I needed a little outdoor alone-time, so I was eager to seize a chance to stretch my legs. But where to go?

For quick overnight trips, I often go to Afton State Park. It's near the Twin Cities, and is a pleasant enough escape. But I've been there I think three times in the last year now. It was getting a little too familiar, so I started looking for somewhere new nearby.

There are several State Parks, State Forests, and other managed lands scattered around Minneapolis and St. Paul. What I wanted was to camp near water, and scout out a few areas for some packrafting later on. Jeremy at Trek Lightly mentioned the Governor Knowles State Forest in Wisconsin, but when I checked it out the website informed me that I'd have to book a campsite 7 days in advance. I can't stand booking campsites in advance. To me it's anathema to the whole point of being outside. It's too planned, and makes me feel too much like I'm part of an administrative system, rather than a free spirit. I want to camp when and where I feel like camping.

I was looking at St. Croix State Park, the largest state park in Minnesota, but it only offered two backpacking sites - a bit of a disappointment. Thankfully Jeremy came to the rescue again and recommended Wild River SP. Seven sites, 37 miles of trails, the St. Croix river, and no need to book anything in advance.

After a late start, I made the hour drive north, and arrived after the office closed. It's necessary to pre-pay for a backpacking site, and to declare which site you will stay at. The park seemed empty to me, and as nobody was there to tell me any different, I just scribbled something random on the form and let it be.

Eager to set off, I found a parking site, shouldered my huckePACK, and set off - only for disaster to strike moments later. I'd left something in the car; something vital, and slightly illegal as it is not permitted within the state parks. For this reason I will not divulge what said item was, except that it rhymes with Durban.

So, fully packed, with LT4 poles extended, I set off again, heading toward the section of the park where several backpacking sites were located, making a brief stop to fill up with water (the park guide states that water is not available at backpacking sites, which is not strictly true. What it means is that backpacking sites have not been fitted with taps/faucets - there is plenty of water around to collect and filter.)

As the trail led steadily uphill through some pleasant woodland I heard a strange sound. A distinct growl. The kind of irritated, guttural growl that could only be one thing: a bear. I cursed my apparent animal magnetism. Still, I knew I'd be heading away from that sound, and as I could also hear a chicken somewhere in the distance I decided to concentrate on that instead.

Before long I reached the summit, if we can call the top of a small hill a summit. An unusually English-looking scene spread out before me; rolling hills, clumps of trees and bushes, even a oak tree. I felt oddly nostalgic.

I passed a couple of the backpacking sites - Aspen Knob and Breezy Valley. Both seemed pleasant enough, but I didn't want to camp in a forest of leafless trees. I wanted a view, and headed onwards.

A small stream soon blocked my path, and offered me a chance to put my Terroc 330s to the test. I happily sloshed across, shoes and socks getting soaked, and was pleased to find my merino socks kept my feet warm as the shoes slowly dried out along the trail. It's a most liberating feeling, and it put a big smile on my face.

Not long after this, the landscape opened out again onto a large meadow. Frogs warbled from a pond as I passed by, heading to a potential campsite overlooking the field.

When I found the site, I mulled over the possibility of staying there. Sadly, some previous visitors had left a bunch of beer cans lying around. After collecting them up, I assessed the lay of the land. If I stayed here, I'd have a nice morning view. I might even see some coyote (or that bear) crossing the meadow. But something felt wrong. Maybe it was that large mound and the suspicious holes indicating some kind of burrow nearby.

I checked the map. It wasn't far to the river, and a canoe campsite which looked promising. On my downloaded map it was marked as a canoe/backpacking site, but on the park map it was just for canoeists. Sod it. I'd take a look anyway. I was pretty sure nobody else would be there - I hadn't seen a single soul so far. The only risk would be if it was under the flood water.

I raised my hand up to the setting sun. Three fingers between it and the horizon. About three hours. More than enough time to get to the river and back if necessary, and still have time to spare to set up camp. I set off again.

It was really no distance at all, just a mile or so. But when I arrived I found perfection - exactly the kind of site I was looking for.

A perfectly manicured, riverside campsite, complete with picnic table and fire grate. Luxury. Hardly a backcountry feeling, but I wasn't complaining. I took a little time to look around before setting up the SpinnTwin and bivy.

The sun began setting as I gathered kindling and tried to find some dry wood for the BushBuddy to eat.

All around, the sounds of nature filled the air. An owl hooting a real twick-twoo. Some swans agitated at my presence. The splosh of a beaver diving.

The wood was a little wet, but with a vaseline soaked cotton ball, the BushBuddy soon had a good burn going, and my bland Beef Stroganoff was ready in no time. One day, I hope to try Fuzion's backpacking meals. Hopefully soon.

I poured a little of that which rhymes with Durban into my Kupilka kuksa, and sipped away my abstract fears. Of course there are no bears! They're not mentioned on the info leaflet, and thus they are far, far away.

This trip, I remembered to bring some additional shock cord to attach my Exped pillow to my POE Ether Elite. It was perfect. Absolutely no slippage.

I also figured out a great way to attach the bivy, mattress, and quilt together. The Katabatic Bristlecone has two sets of internal attachment points. I clipped the pad to the lower set, and my GoLite quilt to the upper, and had probably the best night's sleep I have ever had outdoors.

The stars were bright, the air increasingly cold. During the night I awoke to find myself surprisingly chilly. Fortunately I'd packed my hot socks and BPL Cocoon pants – possibly my greatest recent purchase – and after slipping into them I returned to a deep sleep.

I cannot emphasise enough how great it is to sleep in a quilt compared to a sleeping bag. I no longer have to wrestle with hoods and draw cords at night, and I sleep as well as I do at home. It's possible that the Durban helped, but the quilt has transformed my nights beyond belief.

I decided to take the SpinnTwin with me this time as the weather was getting warmer, and I hadn't used it since last summer. I have to say that waking up under an open tarp, with a view through the large bug mesh window of the Bristlecone (I had is closed as protection against the cold) is pure joy.

When I crawled out from the shelter though, I found that it was considerably colder than the forecast had predicted.

A thick layer of frost coated everything, the side effect of sleeping next to a large body of water. Much of my carefully collected stash of twigs was now damp, so I went in search of more.

Mist rose from the river, shrouding everything.

I didn't have much luck finding dry wood, and had to make do with what I could scrape together. Damp kindling and moist twigs do not a good fire make, and for the first time, the BushBuddy struggled to bring my pot to a boil - taking almost 40 minutes of continuous, frustrated coaxing.

But eventually it worked. Oatmeal was consumed. The SpinnTwin was taken down. The amazing huckePACK was loaded. And I was ready for a morning stroll.

I was in no hurry to return, so decided to take the long way back to the car and explore the park a little more.

As the sun rose and the mist evaporated, I followed a trail along the banks of the St. Croix.

I followed old military trails and logging tracks dating from the early 1800s.

Suddenly, a flash of white above me. From the treetops, a bald eagle swept into the air. As usual I fumbled for my camera, too slow to capture it. It flow across to an island and landed near it's nest, watching me.

Further along the trail a came across what I assume was it's lunch (there were no nests nearby anyway).

At the site of an old logging dam I turned away from the river and headed inland, towards the prairies.

The variation of landscapes in the park was very pleasant. Form hills to river, meadows to forest, thicket to prairie, it's a nicely rounded park which I had all to myself.

As the sun rose higher, it was time to try out my new "Survivorman" outfit.

Fortunately, I only had a few more hours to spend in the park, and no reason to start eating weevils. Instead nibbled on a delicious Tanka Buffalo bar and some dried cranberries.

Refreshed from trail food, and the trail itself, I found myself once again at the parking lot. I'd walked 8 miles - which surprised me. I felt I'd walked two or three at most. Such is the light-footed feeling one gets with trail runners like the Terrocs and a lighter load. I could have happily gone on all day, taking the longer path, following whatever diversion I happened upon. I felt relaxed, renewed, happy to have been exploring somewhere new.

I thought back on my fears yesterday – about that bear I heard, and that I thought I would assuredly see at some point. I must have been mad. A bear? When I could hear chickens? And no mention of bears in the park information. No signs about bear hanging. What was I thinking?

As I drove out the park, and passed a farm on the boundary I realised...

That bear I heard was probably a cow.

Who is the lamest of them all...? [Updated with poll results]

2011-04-21T11:16:00.000-05:00

Ah, how we love out gear! How exciting it is to search for the latest must-have gadget – the one tool to rule them all: the most flexible shelter, the fastest drying pair of trail runners, the most innovative stove.

There's such an amazing variety of gear out there, tempting you to reach into your wallet, pull out your credit card, part with your hard-earned money, and incur the wrath of your significant other.

Friends, I have trawled the interwebs for new gear – gear so essential you will not be able to resist. Gear you might have missed in the forest of lightweight tarps. Prepare to be amazed by three absolute essential pieces of kit no hiker should be without.

The first item answers that perennial question we often face in the wilderness, "How on earth am I going to keep my spork clean?"

The Spork Case.

The problem: You're familiar with the situation. There you are, miles from anywhere. You've been hiking for hours. Your water supply is almost gone. Suddenly, you feel the need, the need for some delicious dehydrated shepherd's pie. You boil your water, you pour it in the bag and... Gadzooks! Your Spork is dirty!!! And you forgot your bisected camp sponge! Disaster! Almost certain death! You hastily begin writing a book in the hope that Danny Boyle will immortalise your adventure in celluloid.

The solution: Never fear, weary traveller, for Light My Fire (creators of the Spork) have a solution to your dilemma in the form of the Spork Case. Never again will you risk a spotted Spork. The Spork Case will protect up to two (yes, 2 – ideal for spooning couples!) Sporks from encrustment or in-pack scratchery. Weighing only 21 grams (or just over twice as much as a single 9g Spork), the Spork Case will keep your Spork away from harm, nestled in a coccoon of hard-wearing plastic – in fact, exactly the same hard-wearing plastic that the Spork itself is made from.

But it doesn't end there. Every Spork Case comes with a Spork! You can get them in a range of "civilized colors" and can hang it around your neck for true Spork dorkery. It even fits lefty Sporks. Hey, in a fix, you could probably even use the Spork Case as an improvised Spork, or at least spoon. Multi use!! All we need now is a Spork Case Case, just in case the case gets dirty.

But we have spent enough time in Sporkdom. It's time for problem number two.

The Problem: You are hiking through the desert, carrying 1 gallon of water per person, per day, just like they told you at the Ranger Station. Seeing as you are on a seven day hike, and you can't read a map, it's a good thing that in addition to the 7 gallons of water you are also carrying two six-packs of beer. Avery Maharaja maybe. Big bottles. You trek along the canyon stream, relishing the cool water trickling over your sandals, cooling your tired feet. You finally reach camp, and settle down for a nice warm beer. But... zut alors! You have forgotten your bottle opener! Disappointment washes over you, in much the same was as the stream did over your feet, but far less pleasant.

But wait! You remember something! Something wonderful!

You are wearing the Reef Playa Cerveza Sandals!

The Solution: The only sandals in the history of the Universe with a bottle opener built into the sole!!! Imagine the looks of admiration on your hiking companion's face as you daintily cross your leg and crack open a bottle on your sole. Reef's unique "Thirst Quenching Technology" could very well save the day – and maybe even your life.

Now, refreshed and only slightly well oiled after your 10% IPA, it is time to set up camp.

The Problem: You search around for a nice level spot for your tent, but all you can find is crypto soil and sharp, jagged pointies that will rip your ground sheet to shreds. Fortunately your friend has a tarp – but gosh-darn it, he forgot to bring his hiking poles which he needs to erect it. What a dimwit. But wait – here comes another hiker. She happens to have a three-person hammock! Just when you are about to weep in praise of your good fortune, your tears turn to sadness as the three of you realise there is only one tree. Her luxury hammock is useless.

If only she'd bought a Tree Tent!

The Solution: Oh, the luxury! Imagine! For a paltry $50,000, you could be enjoying this "futuristic" love-nest. With enough room to sleep two fully-grown adults in its 9ft diameter, 13ft high hanging palace. Blend in with nature – passers-by will probably think it's a hornet's nest – and put your mind at rest by elevating yourself "out of reach of wild animals and unpleasant wet conditions."

Why bother with bear-hanging your food when you can bear-hang yourself?

All that remains, then, is to answer the question posed by this post. In the spirit of democracy, I'd like to put it to a vote.

And so, the tribe has spoken. Light My Fire, it's time for you to go, and take your Spork Case with you.

While some believed the case would protect the accident-prone Spork from breakage, it's clear that a TiSpork would effect the same protection at a fraction of the weight, and without incurring a blight of plastic Sporks on the planet for future generations to discover, and ask simply, "Why?"

Surprisingly, many people found at least some value in the Reef Playa Cerveza sandals. I suppose they could prove useful in some circumstances, but I would personally never want to carry bottles around with me. When I occasionally carry a beer with me, I take cans. Generally, however, I prefer a wee dram of whisky for it's weight to alcohol ratio.

Although very few voters and commenters could find a place in their hearts for the Tree Tent, one suggestion at least shows some potential for winter use. Imagine outfitting the Tree Tent with a couple of skis and a sail... You could remain enclosed inside as you sail across the tundra, safely ensconced within your aerodynamic, teardrop cocoon. All we need now is $50,000 to buy one and test it out.

Andrew Skurka at Midwest Mountaineering Expo

2011-04-16T16:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was fortunate to be able to attend a talk given by ultra-light hiker Andrew Skurka at Midwest Mountaineering's spring Expo.

It was a great presentation, covering his epic Alaska-Yukon expedition, replete with tales of adventure and hilarious bear encounters.

One of the subjects that struck home with me was the usefulness of following game trails in the wilderness. I've often commented that we should pay attention to the trails made by animals, as any repeatedly used path is likely to lead to a significant landmark or location – most likely water (or, if you're unlucky, it's lair). I found this to be true in the Badlands, where Bison trails marked an economical route across impassable canyons.

It was also interesting to witness the emotions Skurka experienced while hiking the 4700 miles of his recent trip. In a series of videos he showed the highs and lows of long-distance trekking. Upon discovering a massive caribou migration trail, he seemed overcome with the power of the scene; to be in that place, so far away from the rest of civilisation, walking his own trail, but then coming across paths etched into the landscape by animals that have been traveling that route for millennia. It was a powerful and humbling moment.

Aside from the fact that taking six months to hike through a wilderness is not something that I could easily convince my significant other would be a good idea, I don't think I could take on such a challenge. The planning, logistics, and scale of such an endeavour is, I feel, a step beyond what I want to achieve. In fact, I think it's that aspect of achievement that might taint the experience for me. I'd find having a daily goal would take over my enjoyment. But Skurka is more of an athlete; his treks are expeditions, and he's covered by National Geographic. His is more of a career, and apparently he puts relationships on hold while on his adventures, because "it would be hard to complete the trek if [he] had something better at home."

Still, part of any trip in the wilderness involves challenge: a challenge to the self, to find one's limits. I certainly find that one of the reasons I go is to challenge, face and overcome my fears - most of which I know are absurd, but present nonetheless. At one low point on his expedition, Skurka called Roman Dial, expressing his doubts that were making the current stage difficult. Dial said, "You're in big wilderness now - it's not supposed to be comfortable." This is so true - it's not about manning up, it's about accepting one's position within and in relation to the wild, and nature. We are all creatures evolved from wilderness, but when we return to it now, having spent thousands of years away, we step back in time, and renegotiate our position. We should be frightened, becuase it's one of the two instincts necessary for survival: hunger and fear. But it should be fear in a good way. Fear that we are not afraid of, that we try to overcome, in order to be stronger when we return, recharged.

This recharging is something I've become acutely aware of recently. I need to spend a little time away from everything to be able to continue with my day-to-day activities. Another article I happened to see about raising an introvert struck another chord. I've always known I'm introverted, but one of the paragraphs in the article really seemed to summarize exactly the concept of recharging through being in the wilderness:

"Quite simply, introversion is an explanation of where an individual draws their energy; from solitude or from the company of others. Those who recharge their batteries through solitude are introverts. Those who recharge by being with others are extroverts."

Thankfully, I find I don't need a 4700 mile trek to recharge. A few nights under the stars are enough.

On a side note, it was nice to see some of the gear Skurka used in Alaska. Packrafting formed a major part of the trip, so I'm keen to get out and try the Denali Llama that Ryan Jordan has very kindly lent me. Perhaps most reassuring though, was his use of an MLD SoloMid throughout the entire trip - in extreme, exposed Alaskan conditions, both winter and summer. If anyone has any doubts as to the viability of a single walled pyramid shelter, well, if it's good enough for Skurka...

Gear hounds might also be interested to learn that he has written a book on ultralight hiking and backpacking - it's thin, but packed with all sorts of useful information based on real wilderness experience. You can order a "pre-edition" from his website.

Thoughts for the Days Ahead (Part 2) - The Way Home

2011-04-07T12:12:00.000-05:00

A decision has been reached. It wasn't particularly hard to reach it - and in the end we realized it was what we both wanted to do anyway. So, at the end of the year, we're moving back to Finland, to Lapland, to Rovaniemi.

With Minna's visiting professorship in the US is in it's final year, and our future employment options in the States limited by some surprisingly harsh visa restrictions, it's time for a change. But in all honesty, we'd already decided that it was time to go home. There's a lot to love about America; its vast, wide-open spaces; it's warm, friendly people; cheese curds. But at the same time, there's a lot of weirdness that an evil socialist such as myself finds it hard to get his head around. But let's not get into a discussion the American Dream. This is, after all, Backpacking North. It's 10:07 AM, and I haven't drunk enough beer yet to start arguing politics.

Because of other events taking place in our lives this year, the amount of time I'm going to be able to spend on the trail is likely to be far less than I would normally. I'd hoped to get to the Badlands this spring, but I can't realistically spend that much time away from home at the moment. As this is likely going to be the case for the rest of the year also, I have to scale down my plans for trips. And that's fine. A night here, a day there - if that's what I can do, then it's enough.

This last week there's been a fantastic set of trip reports from Joe (Thunder in the Night: 1 2 3 4) and Jörgen (Fjäderlätt: 1 2 3 4) following their heroic trip on Finnmarksvidda in northern Norway. Their experiences and thoughts sent me back in time to life in Lapland, and the trips I made during the eight years I was there before my temporary relocation to Minnesota. I'm excited to be returning; the old axiom that you don't know what you've lost 'till it's gone certainly rings true for me. I intend, on my return, to make the most of the fantastic landscapes on my doorstep with a renewed vigour. And so, I'm looking forward by thinking back, courtesy of my photo library.

Magnificent Norway (aka Mordor)

Lofoten

Can you spot the Wizard?

The Gulf Stream and Maelstrom in action

Borderlands

Russia

In the coming months, there will be fewer posts on Backpacking North. As I said, trip opportunities will be few and far between. I hope to get out for a short trip soon, but after that I'll have other things on my mind. Having a baby is an enormous life-changer, and combining that with a move back to Finland (which I'm stressed about) is a logistical challenge to say the least. I'll keep posting about the mini adventures, and review some gear every now and then, but posting frequency will be reduced. Still, quality not quantity, that's what they say - and with that in mind, I promise to keep these less popular, philosophical posts to a minimum, and end this one here.

Tromsø (in alpenglow reversal)

Garmin Dakota 20 GPS

2011-03-23T11:35:00.000-05:00

There has been some discussion on blogs recently about route tracking and logging using various devices - smart phones, GPS units, SPOT systems, and other, simple GPS trackers.

A couple of years ago I bought a Garmin Dakota 20 GPS - a neat, small, lightweight, and low power usage fully-featured GPS unit. Perhaps it's a good time to write a review and compare it to some of the alternatives.

I've been trying out some of the iPhone based GPS systems, because I always carry my phone with me, and if I can carry one device instead of two, I'm a happy man. The iPhone has the advantage of combining GPS, a camera, an HD video camera, a digital compass, and 15,000 apps providing amusing ways to make fart sounds. What more could you need in the wild?

ViewRanger has a very popular GPS app on Android and the iPhone. It's advantage is that it allows you to download maps onto memory, so you can use it effectively outside the cellphone network. The disadvantage is that all this uses a lot of power, and battery capacities are limited.

I can't speak for Android phones, but on the iPhone it maintains a GPS link while running in the background. This drains the battery very quickly, giving only about 4 or 5 hours use. The non-removable batteries of smart phones limit their usefulness on multi-day hikes. While it's possible to use a solar charger to recharge the iPhone, they are not very effective in poor conditions, and at the nest of times are very slow (Chris Townsend recently wrote that after three days one charger provided enough energy to half charge his phone). So, phone-based solutions are fine if all you want to do is check your location occasionally (as long as you remember to manually force ViewRanger to close to conserve power). But if you want to track your route precisely over multiple days, you need something that you can leave on without worrying, and that you can easily resupply power to.

One solution which has recently become popular is the SPOT II GPS messenger. The Spot can send out a automatic breadcrumb trail of beacons, or manual beacons via satellite, and has an SOS button for emergencies. It can also send messages via twitter and email so you can let friends and family know where you are, and that you are still safe and alive. The only thing I don't like about it is the auto-renewing subscription fee for the satellite service. Joe and Jorgen are using one right now in northern Norway, and you can follow their progress here. The SPOT draws power from 3 AAA batteries, providing up to 3 months of standby, or 7 days tracking - which is very good, and shows what you can achieve when you eliminate a screen from the design. But of course, without a screen, the SPOT cannot help you determine where you are.

Enter the Dakota.

Garmin has a whole range of GPS units, each with a dizzying array of features, aimed at different users. I went with the Dakota 20 primarily because it's small, uses only two AA batteries (which can be rechargeable ones), is lightweight ( 152g including batteries), waterproof, rugged, and simple. Some of their larger units (the Oregon) offer cameras, but I felt that was unnecessary as I always carry a decent one, and the tracking sites and software are intelligent enough these days to automatically geotag photos based on when you took them.

One of the nice things in Garmin GPS units is the LCD touchscreen they use. It's designed to be clearly visible in daylight without a backlight, and this cuts a lot of battery drain. I get about 15 hours of continuous use on a standard set of Duracell batteries. This typically covers about a day and a half of hiking before I need to change batteries.

The software design is very easy to use, and the colour screen, although far, far away from the iPhone's retina screen, is more than adequate. The Dakota 20 comes with a topo map DVD for North America. It's easy to select the area you are hiking in on your Mac or PC using the BaseCamp app, and transfer the top quality maps to the Dakota. You can set waypoints before you leave so you have destinations at the ready.

In the field, the Dakota is a joy to use - it's a very good example of an extremely well thought out user interface. It's easy to use without using the manual (ViewRanger could work on this a little harder). Tracking your route is automatic (unless you select otherwise), so as soon as you turn it on, you're ready to go. After the initial geolocation, it remembers your general position so getting a fix is almost instant when you turn it off at camp, and on again the next morning. Little things like this make dedicated GPS units worth their weight. They do one thing, and do it well. Having said that, the version 1 software on the Dakota did crash, becoming inoperable and losing all my data once on the Sioux Hustler Trail when I would really have needed it. Thankfully a software update fixed this bug, but I no longer have a record of that trail.

Snowbank Lake trail overview

Snowbank Lake trail detail

It's easy to create waypoints and assign them icons, which will all be carried over when uploading the tracks to BaseCamp. Naming waypoints, however, is a bit of a pain. The small screen means that letters are small, and for ham-fisted klutzes, it can get a little frustrating. On the other hand, you could just accept the generic name, and rename it later.

Naturally, the Dakota records all your elevation data, provides an accurate sunset countdown, measures distance hiked, shows your direction using the digital compass, and offers a host of other functionality which you may or may not find useful. I tend to stick to the basics. Geocaching is nice to have, but the implementation on the iPhone is much better.

Elevation data

Trip odometer / data

On a few occasions the Dakota has saved my bacon. In the Badlands and up in the Boundary Waters there have been times when it's proven invaluable. I wouldn't hesitate to take it with me on future trips.

Pros:
The navigation UI is clear, simple, and easy to use.
The screen in sunlight is great.
Waterproofness and ruggedness. Using it in the rain is no problem.
Battery operation time, and the fact it takes standard batteries.
Quick fix on GPS once it has initially located itself.
Lightweight and flexible - it also mounts nicely on my road bike.
Multifunctions - digital compass, geocaching, etc
BaseCamp software is easy to use, updated often, and Mac compatible.
Nice fishing info screen, showing best days and times to catch that 8lb sturgeon.

Cons:
The screen seems sensitive to scuffing. I scratched mine at some point just from having it in my pocket.
Naming waypoints is UPPER CASE ONLY AND A BIT AWKWARD WITB THRE SMHELL BNUBTTOBNS
The touchscreen sometimes feels a little unresponsive.

Thoughts for the Days Ahead (Part 1)

2011-03-21T14:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I received a message on Twitter from a very wise man. While pondering the meaning of the message I decided to pour myself a beer - it had been an unusually stressful day. As I closed the fridge door, my eyes fell upon a fridge magnet, which seemed to answer the implied question that the message posed.

Synchronicity? Not exactly, but an interesting moment in which the universe seemed to answer itself.

Here's the fridge magnet, with the message as a caption. Make of it what you will...

"You could spend you're whole life waitin' around and watching your pals packraft via twitter or ... !"

No, I'm not buying a packraft just yet. The point is that it's easy to sit around while other people do all the cool stuff.

Recently, for one reason or another, I've not been able to get out as much as I would like, or as long as I would like. What Snufkin seemed to be telling me (Snufkin is also quite wise, as it happens) is that there is all this out there. It doesn't matter how long you go for, how far you go. it isn't about achieving something. It isn't about getting out there because you need to write something for your blog (I have the super power to create guilt for myself out of nothing).

It's just about getting out. When you can. For as long or as short as you are able.

Two nights. A week. A day. An afternoon. An hour. It doesn't matter.

Then a post on Adventure In Progress about hitting the reset button grabbed my attention, continuing my stream of thoughts - the results of which I will write about more... in part 2.

Until then... all this is out there.

Gear Talk: A Tale of Two Kuksas

2011-02-21T16:21:00.000-06:00

The Kuksa (or Guksi (Sámi), Kåsa (Swedish)) is a traditional wooden cup originally made by the indigenous people of Lapland, the Sámi. It holds a special place in my heart, coming from Lapland, and for me at least, is inextricably linked to the landscape of the Northern Nordic lands. When you happen across a hiker in the hills of Lapland, be it Sweden, Norway, Finland or Russia, chances are high that they will have a kuksa dangling from their pack.

Traditionally, you should either carve your own kuksa, ideally from birch gnarl, or receive it as a gift. I got my first one after moving to Rovaniemi in 2001, and I still have it. If made well they should last a lifetime - but sadly many poor imitations exist, which don't. In kuksas made from cheaper materials and not cured and treated properly, cracks appear over time with the constant variations between hot and cold liquids and temperatures.

My first kuksa is locked somewhere in my storage room, and last year, when I went in search of it, I couldn't find it. I'd heard of a new product - an semi-artificial kuksa - which was gaining popularity amongst the secret society of (mostly) ultra-light backpackers. It was, they claimed, light, environmentally friendly, a good size, comfy in the hand.

Pfaf! I exclaimed. What could be better than a real kuksa? What could be more environmentally friendly than the wood of a real kuksa? A curse on the lot of you!

I went in search of this usurper to the throne of kuksa, but dear little Rovaniemi is sometimes a little behind in these things. Instead, I found a replacement kuksa, broke with tradition, and purchased it for myself.

It was nice. It was good. It was actually a little better looking than my original kuksa. But I was still bi-curious about the young upstart. By now I was back in the USA, and far away from a dealer. Blog after blog posted reviews of the new en vogue vessel, so I gave in to temptation, and asked the manufacturer, Kupilka, to send me a review sample. It arrived a few weeks ago, so it is time for an educational side-by-side comparison of two cups.

A storm is brewing. In the left corner, the pretender to the throne, the Kupilka 21. In the right, the former champion.

I'll be honest. I didn't want to like it. There's nothing wrong with kuksas as they are, why 'improve' on it? A wooden kuksa is recyclable, doesn't need washing (you simply rinse it with cold water), isn't that heavy, and is perfectly natural. Why mess with that?

But when I opened the box containing my Kupilka 21, I was rather pleasantly surprised. You see, the thing I like about the kuksa is that it embodies a two way relationship. What you put into it, you get back in another form. The oils present in the birch gnarl lend a subtle resinous quality to drinks. Initially, it will also have a salty taste from the curing. If you christen it with a shot of whisky or brandy (or, even better, Jaloviina), you'll often see a thin film of these oils. After that, the brandy imbues it's taste into the wood. Follow with coffee and you get a taste of heaven. Repeat as necessary.

I didn't expect much of an aroma with the Kupilka 21. It is manufactured from a natural fiber composite of 50% pine fiber, 50% plastic. The pine and conifer fiber has a distinct smell which, to me, made it seem more natural - more outdoorsy. It was almost, albeit in a different way, like the smell of a kuksa.

Although Kupilka, through a variation on an old Finnish word, means "little cup", the 21 holds more than my kuksa - which is a good thing. My kuksa needs constant refilling, but I can get a good sized coffee in the Kupilka (officially, it takes 2.1dl).

Kupilka state that natural fiber composites offer "better heat endurance and higher durability", and that compared to wood "it doesn't require maintenance, doesn't absorb smells, and is insensitive to humidity."

I can't speak for the heat endurance claim, but it is certainly durable. I'm certain there will be no issues with cracking as with wood; in fact I couldn't even scratch mine.

The pine fiber gives it a pleasant texture - it doesn't taste at all plasticky to drink from. Although I like the "flavour exchange" of a kuksa, I can see the benefits of using a non-absorbant material. I'm sure the Kupilka range would appeal to Arctic Safari companies wanting to give their paying customers a more atmospheric taste of Lapland. The entire Kupilka range of products can be thrown in the dishwasher, unlike (God forbid) a real kuksa. In fact, Kupilka recommend washing in a dishwasher, especially if you don't like the initial smell. A few cycles should get rid of it.

It's weight is also good. Mine is 83g. My kuksa, which as I mentioned holds far less, is 124g.

But what about a taste comparison?

I filled my kuksa and my Kupilka 21 with my current favourite beverage, Russian Caravan tea.

Sipping from the Kupilka first, I could first smell the smoky tea, backed by a hint of the burnt pine aroma of the cup. The cup feels good in the hand - the handle is well designed and allows several holding positions (under the cup, around the handle). At no point did it feel out of balance, which I was worried about at first. It looks the part, and as a weight-saving cup, it does a good job.

On to my old faithful kuksa then. The first thing I smell is the aroma of campfires and birch, which triggers memories of my trip to Finland last year. Then the tea. Again, my kuksa is nicely sculpted, it's somewhat unusual handle easy to grip. The tea tastes good, and I get that little salty kick, followed by a hint of birch.

I paid attention to the heat loss. The Kupilka cup felt warm on the outside, but the tea remained hotter. I felt no heat through the kuksa's wood, but towards the end the tea cools very quickly.

In the end, I find it hard to choose between the two. Each has it's benefits. The original kuksa has more of a mythical connection to the land for me, and my experiences mark it's sides. It evokes memory.

But the Kupilka is nice. It's much cheaper than a good kuksa (around €16 compared to €40 upwards), and, I suppose, doesn't use the somewhat harder-to-find material of the birch gnarl, and in that sense could be said to be more ecological. It's lighter, for gram counters, and in respects is a perfectly good cup.

I read that Kupilka's products can be safely burned in fires should you want to dispose of them, or reground and made into new products. I did consider trying to burn mine just to be a completist, but it has won me over. I want to keep it, and use it again. Who knows, maybe it will even start to collect memories. If it does, my kuksa might start to get worried.

Kupilka maintains an up-to-date list of dealers on their site. It seems that Kupilka products will be available in the US from Campsaver in March, which is great news for the Finnish company.

To Afton, and beyond...

2011-02-15T12:51:00.000-06:00

Another last minute decision. The temperature is cold enough – it'll be at least -10C tonight. I know I've been putting it off – finding excuses not to go because this or that needs to be done. It's only one night and now I've run out of excuses. If I don't go tonight, I don't know when I'll get a chance again to test out the gear. The plan is to go for a longer trip in February, but February is a cruelly short month, over before you know it. Winter slips by like sand in an hourglass. I want to head out for longe, but with our first baby on the way hiking plans have to take second place. This one night might be the only opportunity for a while, and I should make the most of it. After all, one night is better than no night.

Over the winter, I've built up a collection of gear to supplement and enhance my rather limited set of cold-weather kit. Most of it has remained untested in snow and cold. I really wanted to make sure my new winter clothing and sleeping system could handle the varying weather conditions we get in Minnesota. Unlike Lapland, where the sun hangs so low it offers little or no heat until March or April, Minnesota is at the same latitude as Southern France and the sun rises high enough to warm the ground even in deepest winter. It's not uncommon to have a -15C air temperature and melting snow on the ground. Night and day temperatures veer wildly between extreme cold and not-unpleasant, spring-like warmth. This makes selecting gear that much harder. You're not simply going to be cold; you're going to sweat, then get cold, which is never fun.

Last Autumn, you may recall, I didn't get a chance to test out my Laufbursche huckePACK. So today, it was the first thing out of the gear closet. I grabbed my Multimat Adventure CCF pad to give it some structure, and crammed my WM Antelope into a stuff sack. Opening the pad wide enough inside the pack to accommodate the bulky winter bag was a chore. It barely fit. I made a mental note to try stuffing the bag in first next morning, and then slip the mat on top. That worked much better.

The huckePACK is a surprisingly large pack. I wasn't packing particularly sensibly, but there was still plenty of room for more gear once I'd squeezed everything in. It carries extremely well. My pack weight was around 7kg, and I didn't notice the pack's presence at all while hiking. The presence of load lifters makes a big difference - especially when a pack is loaded high. The larger main outer pocket takes a snow-claw and DuoMid as it it were made for them. As for the other two pockets, they are roomy, but I found I would prefer the angled side pocket to just be a simple rectangular style; my water bottle fell out while I was bending to fiddle with snow shoe buckles. The other side pocket, while rectangular, has a cut in the side to allow access. It's handy, but I was worried about losing my kuksa and tent stakes. It's a matter of personal choice – some people like to access the side pockets while wearing the pack, but I'm not dextrous enough. I'll fix a couple of shock cord cinches to them to keep things nice and secure.

I used a four-section piece of Z-lite on the back of the pack for added padding. I originally thought that the shock cord holding it in place would not be sufficient, but it did a great job. The pad never moved, and was very comfortable. It was also a great thing to take with me – serving as a kneel pad, sit pad, and added insulation for my back at night. don't leave home without one!

I'm driving to Afton. A bald eagle swoops down out of nowhere. It always amazes me to see them. Even in central Minneapolis, by the Mississippi, I often see them scoping out the river banks for mice. It is a good sign. I stop by the park office. No trouble getting a campsite today. Down to the end of the road. I take out the pack, and buckle up the snow shoes. Off we go.

Joe tipped me off on some good and reasonably priced ski-poles – the Black Diamond Traverse. A two-section pole, with a simple flick lock tightener. Light enough, sturdy, simple, and strong enough for the DuoMid. Their cheerful orange colour doesn't hurt in the snow either. They even match my Lightning Ascents. It's important to be fashion conscious while hiking. You never know who you'll meet.

I trek down the hill, taking a winding, narrow, steep path through some aspen. My snow shoes crunch, gripping tight. There is a trail, but I decide to head off track through deeper snow.

And now another hill – up this time. Time to raise the heel lifters. I'm glad I have them. It's not a big hill, but it's enough to point out my state of unfitness. I wonder how the guys in Bozeman and Colorado do this all the time. I seriously need to exercise more!

I chose not to wear my Aclima WarmWool top. The temperatures were not cold enough, and I was worried I'd be sweating buckets in it. Instead I went with my good old Haglöfs synthetic baselayer. It dries incredibly quickly after a workout, and my only complaint is that the torso length is a little short. I often find this though. My shirts ride up too easily. I wish more manufacturers would offer a long body option.

Up in the camping area. Not many people have been here – no tracks, and deep snow. I'm not sure where I'm going to stay, but I find one site that people have been in recently. It's a good spot – under a stand of birch, shielded from the wind but with a view over the prairie. They obviously dug into the snow, and I decide to take advantage of their work. I lay out the DuoMid and stake down the corners, leaving the snow to sinter while I head off to explore the park some more.

It probably would have been easier to just set up on fresh snow. I don't know why the people before me felt the need to dig down to the cold ground, but I thought the walls around the shelter might save me building a wind break. As it was, I had to dig into them and construct slots for my REI Parachute Stakes. I was a little concerned that they wouldn't be strong enough to hold the DuoMid in place. It requires a fair amount of tension to maintain a taut pitch, but I shouldn't have worried. It is amazing how strong a snow-anchor can be once it's set. In one corner I had to use a MSR Blizzard stake. I'd not used one before, but after scratching a line in ice, it slipped in nicely, horizontally, and after I buried it in snow, it held fast. I find the snow parachutes to be better – more flexible, easier to set in snow, sand or with rocks. Plus, they weigh next to nothing.

For working around camp, I used a Snow Claw - a cheap, plastic, emergency snow shovel. It did the job, but next time I'll take a decent shovel (maybe a Black Diamond Deploy 3) as shuffling around on my knees with the snow claw killed my back.

As for gloves, I had four pairs with me. Well, three technically, as the Montane Resolutes are a layered set. The pile and pertex inners are prefect for snow work; they don't get wetted out in the snow, which is more than I can say for the air of thicker PowerDry liner gloves I was wearing at first. Stupid of me I kno, but the cold does that to you. Anyway, in this case, PowerDry didn't dry very well. The good thing about the resolutes is that if it does get wet and windy you can slip the eVent mitts over the top. My final pair of gloves were a cheap pair of thin liners, which are great for doing odd jobs around camp that you might need your fingers for. Next time, I'll skip the PowerDry pair.

I stomp through the snow, making a path through the trees, across the whitened prairie, going nowhere in particular. That's the beauty of snow shoeing, I think to myself. Go anywhere in perfect silence.

I skirt around an island of trees. As I pass, the wind starts biting into my face. I slip on the wind shirt, glad I decided to bring it at the last minute. Which way? Which way now?

Into the open white expanse. Deep, untouched snow. Even my snow shoes can't float above this soft powder. I struggle on, knees lifted high, toppling now and then into a drift. I smile as I push myself up and on, the wind still at my heels. I'm hungry.

The Tanka Bar, is, in my humble opinion, the best snack ever. Pounded buffalo (well, technically bison) meat with cranberries, produced by a start-up company on Pine Ridge reservation, 150 calories, and weighing in at only 1oz. Also available in a spicy hot version! (Commercial over.)

Restored, I plough on, heading back towards the campsite, excited to finish setting up the shelter and getting some food on the go. It's hard work though – sometimes the shortest route is the hardest. When I see the bright yellow of my shelter I am relieved. The snow has set hard. Everything is going to be okay. I just need to get some water. I take off my shoes and head along a packed path, and immediately discover why snow shoes are necessary. With every other step I posthole into the snow. The return journey, as I stumble back with a pot of water is frustrating, to say the least. I make a mental note not to try that again.

Food. Yummy, delicious, dehydrated food. Or not. I decided to try a different brand of organic dried ginger and sesame pasta. I don't really know why I did this as the idea of ginger and sesame pasta sounds awful to me now. I think I didn't want to eat a huge pack of Backcountry Pantry, and this brand made smaller, 1.5 serving packages. My mistake. It was awful.

But let's look on the bright side... my Primus Express Spider was wonderful.

Fast and efficient, not too noisy, lightweight and simple to use. My boil time was a little slow as I didn't bother to take a wind break, but nothing to worry about. My GSI Haluite pot was large enough to boil enough water for the meal a nice cup of Russian Caravan tea which I drank from a Kupilka Kuksa for the first time – about which more will follow in another post.

As I sit eating in silence, I notice my legs and feet getting colder. The temperature is falling with the sun. Somewhere, not too far away, a pack of coyotes start howling.

It's time to enter Ice Station Zebra.

I don't usually suffer from cold feet – cold hands, yes, but my feet usually run hot. But hanging around in camp in slightly damp boots is when hot feet turn cold.

I was a little worried about this, so did a lot of research into keeping my feet warm and dry in camp and while on the move. I know a lot of people swear by vapour barrier liners, but I feel they are really not for me. Layering systems are vital for winter, but I'd just get annoyed with a complex layering system on my
feet. It's enough hassle putting snow shoes on and adjusting buckles without fiddling with waterproof socks, plastic bags, and overboots.

I bought a pair of Integral Designs Hot Socks to slip on in camp, and a pair of Tyvek booties to pull over them so I could walk around in camp (or, as was the case, slide around in camp – they are quite slippery on snow). These were just about adequate. At first I tried squeezing my Hot Sock enclosed feet back into my Vasque GoreTex boots. It was a tight fit, but helped to dry them out a bit more. In colder weather, a pair of down booties would be better.

In the leg department, my BPL Cocoon Pants were excellent. Super lightweight (213g), really warm, and water resistant. Just perfect. I'm very happy with them. They are very flexible as part of a layering system.

Time for bed. I pack used things away loosely and pile everything inside the DuoMid. Out with the CCF pad and air mattress. Puff up the sleeping bag. Do I need the bivy bag? Probably not, but it won't hurt. Air pillow – check. With a luxury lantern all is good. I curl up inside the bag, the air cold on my face.

Foolishly, I forgot to make a shock cord system to attach the Exped pillow to my Ether Elite, so once again I was in for a nocturnal wrestling match as I tried to reposition the pillow from within the cocoon of my sleeping bag. Every time I got it in position, it moved when I got back inside the bag. Over and over again, ad nauseum.

And I'm really torn about the sleeping bag. The WM Antelope is well made, warm, and fairly light. The hood cinches down tight and at night, in winter, when all you want is to be cosily tucked up and protected from the cold and the wind, a mummy bag is perfect. But when it comes down to it, I'm a side sleeper, and mummy bags are made for back sleepers. I would be far better served by a quilt and a separate down hood – much like the set up that Katabatic offer. The only problem is that I'm not convinced a quilt is the best solution (for me) in true cold.

Sure, in a mummy bag, the down beneath you is compressed and inefficient. And that night, I did start to feel the cold radiating up from the ground. This was mainly because the Multimat Adventure and Ether Elite 6 were not enough even together for anything below -10C. After I slipped the 4-section Z-lite under my hips (this is where I felt the cold from, mainly) it was a little better, but still not perfect.

Perhaps the only solution is a quilt in combination with a down/synthetic filled air mattress. I don't know, but it's an expensive thing to try and find out I'm still not warm enough.

The Antelope is rated to -15C, and I feel this is very accurate. I wouldn't want to take it below that. In colder weather, I could easily extend it's range by combining it with the Golite 3-Season quilt, but the main place I felt the cold was under my hips, and that problem is more likely related to my baselayer riding up and the pads not being warm enough. Perhaps Kooka Bay's secret down pad is worth a look.

I picked up a balaclava for the trip, but in the end found it wasn't warm enough. I was warmer just sleeping in my Mountain Hardwear windproof fleece hat. This is my go-to had for everything. Possibly the warmest hat I own.

Still, even with all these gripes, I had a relatively good night's sleep after midnight.

Dogs barking somewhere. Talking to each other it seems. At least I think they are dogs. Maybe they are rabid coyotes? And now – distant sirens. They must be in Afton. What the hell's going on? Was that gunfire? It sounded like it. Maybe a farmer is shooting coyotes? Or maybe the police are hunting an escaped convict, and he's going to run through the state park, trying to evade them. What if he finds my shelter? Maybe he'll shoot me! Calm down. There are no rabid coyotes or escaped convicts. There are no rabid coyotes or escaped convicts. There are no......Zzzzzzzz.

I wake up early, with the light. I still have both legs and no gunshot wounds. I decide to make coffee to celebrate.

Thankfully, I remembered to keep my water bottle and boots inside the bivy bag, close enough to my body to keep them warm.

The main reason for getting the Spider was the ability to use the gas in 'inverted' mode during winter, to ensure an appropriate mixture of fuels reached the stove. After warming the pre-heating tube, the stove lit immediately – which was a relief as this was the first time I'd attempted this.

While the method of ignition was fine, the stove slid around on the thin aluminium pad. I'm going to need to make something similar to the MYOG stove pad over at Thunder in the Night. But for this night, I would manage with some careful balancing.

The inside of the DuoMid – as expected – was covered in frost, but this shook off easily when breaking camp.

To be honest, I'm surprised there wasn't more, but the wind, which picked up in the night, probably helped disperse some condensation.

Coffee and oatmeal. Then another coffee. I'm ready to go. I crawl out into the day, and start shuffling around, packing up, excavating stakes, and – what's that? A fox dashes out of the trees. I rush for the camera, fumbling with the lens cap – too late. It's gone. It seemed happy, bounding along with the same expression my Springer has in the snow; pure glee.

Can dogs and foxes can know glee? I remember something I read about babies in the womb. Apparently at around 19 weeks, they can dream. But what do they dream of? They haven't seen anything yet; their eyes are still closed. Do they dream of sounds? Amniotic tastes? Movement? Heartbeats?

There it is again! The fox! It's taking exactly the same route as before! It's like the deja vu cat in The Matrix. This time I'm ready. I grab the camera, raise it – but the lens is too wide, and apparently covered in frost.

Can you see the fox? It's in there, somewhere!

I'm packed up and ready to go. I strap on the snow shoes. I think I'll take the long way out, and go for a walk around the park some more. It's a beautiful morning. Crisp and fresh. My show shoes crunch along. I'll be home soon enough, but not yet...

For some reason that morning, the snow shoe bindings were not quite right. With every step they would clatter and rebound with a double tap-tap. It became so irritating I had to re-adjust them twice, but to no avail. It seems that with large boots, the bindings can rub against the edge of the floatation platform, causing them to flip-flop up and down. The manual informs me that I can cut a curve out and remedy the problem. Add that to the list of little things that need fixing then!

Down the hill, stomp stomp stomp. A beautiful trail down to the St Criox River. As before, I feel refreshed; lighter somehow, as if I've shaken off some burdens. There's a lot to look forward to this year. "Big changes are coming, here they come..." An old favourite Laurie Anderson song rolls around my head. How did it go? Oh yes...

"What next, big sky?"

Snowshoeing overnighter and Social Hiking test

2011-02-06T14:25:00.000-06:00

I'm doing a quick overnighter in my favourite testing ground near home, Afton State Park. I'm hoping to get away for a few days in February, and as I've accumulated a bunch of untested gear, now's the chance to test it out in winter.

While I'm at it, I'll be using Social Hiking to track my whereabaouts, assuming all goes well with the cellphone signal. You should be able to follow me on the map below, and comment on twitter using the hashtag #sh.

It will start updating when I get to the park in about 45 minutes.

Gear Talk: Lumix GF1 Review

2011-01-25T13:57:00.000-06:00

With a background in photography, I spend a lot of time trying to find the perfect camera for backpacking. I'd love to carry my Nikon D300 all the time, but it's just too bulky and heavy. A few years ago I switched to compact, point and shoot cameras. These days you can take pretty good photos with them, but as I photographer I eventually find them somewhat lacking - either in manual controls, accessibility, image quality, depth of field (other than in macro mode) and durability. I used a tiny Samsung NV10 for a while, which took great pictures with nice punchy colours and has the advantage of making me look like a spy, but after a couple of years the automatic lens cover started to malfunction. The tiny lenses on compact cameras easily break when subjected to sand and extended misuse. To counter that I switched ot an Olympus Sylus Tough 6020. Waterproof, shock proof, 14 megapixels, perfect for the outdoors. Jason Klass just got one and seems to like it. I thought it was a piece of shit. It has some nice features but I found the images lack detail, and the colours are somehow flat. The problem with small cameras is that the lenses and sensors are so small the quality of captured data is typically quite low.

Then last year, late to the party as usual, I read about the Lumix GF 1. I'd heard about four thirds cameras before, but resisted them as what I really wanted was a full frame, 35mm sensor. The four thirds system uses a smaller sensor, but the GF1 allows you to select the ratio of the sensor, between 4:3 ( a nice medium format ratio), 3:2 (35mm), 1:1 (for squares) and 16:9 (widescreen, baby). Although the sensor is far from full frame, it is considerably larger than those used on compact point and shoots.

A larger sensor helps to capture dappled light scenes.

As it has been out for a while, there are plenty of other, more extensive reviews of the GF1. Here are a few good ones:

Hendrik's field report at Hiking in Finland
hrxxlight
Digital Photography Review
Imaging Resource

I won't write an extensive review and list all the functions as that has already been well-catered for. Instead I'll focus on it's suitability as a mid-sized camera for photographer-backpackers.

For me, the GF1 is the best of both worlds. It's more compact than a dSLR, offers interchangable lenses, has a larger sensor than a compact, it's not too heavy (470g inc. UV filter), and it has a good set of manual controls which are easily accessible - via real buttons!!!

The GF1 seems especially good at capturing fire. Just look at those crisp flames and smoke.
Lovely depth of field too.

It's light sensitivity performance is not on a par with the latest dSLRs, but I've found it to be more than adequate, with an ISO range of 100 to 3200. Naturally, it shoots in RAW as well as the usual array of compressed JPEGs.

I was surprised it captured such a range of light in this cabin shot.

It has a metal body which, while not waterproof, is reassuringly sturdy. The buttons are sensibly arranged, and include my essential requirements: an exposure and focus lock, manual focus, and access to ISO and metering. A dial on the top allows switching between different modes, aperture or shutter priority, manual, and the various other more 'compact-user-friendly' modes. Two custom settings are useful if you want to set up the camera for sepcific uses.

While the GF1 doesn't have a dedicated macro mode, the pancake lens allows

you to focus down to about 15cm.

There are a few things SLR users will miss. ~~A depth of field preview button would be nice~~ [edit: I just remembered it does have a depth of field preview on the 'Trash' button in camera mode. It also previews shutter speed. Trés neat!], and old fashioned as I am, I curse the day that aperture rings were taken off lenses and put into camera software. While the GF1 makes it easy to switch between shutter and aperture adjustments by alternately pressing the control dial, I'd still prefer dedicated dials for each. It's better than hiding them behind a menu system though (but more on that later).

Personally, in this type of camera, I don't miss the absence of a viewfinder. The LCD is bright, crisp and superbly detailed. Viewfinder fans can get an electronic viewfinder which sits on the hot shoe.

In the original file, the light on the bird's wing is very detailed. Curses on JPEG compression.

The camera also records HD video, and you can record some pretty stylish material using some lovely depth of field effects.

Indeed, depth of field is the main draw of a camera like this for me. While point and shoot's are undeniably lighter and smaller, they are limited in what they can achieve with such small lenses. While depth of field is achievable in macro modes, at mid ranges the effect is much less than with the GF1 or a dSLR. Sure, you can fiddle in Photoshop later and create the effect you want, but I love using focus in my photography. For many outdoor photographers, the crisp, clarity of an F16 landscape is what they are after, and the GF1 excels in this also. The lens (I have the pancake 1.7/20mm) is absolutely superb. The detail it captures is often stunning. I never notice any chromatic aberration or other visual inconsistencies, and at a fast shutter speed, frozen droplets of water from a dog jumping into a lake are frozen in the air in remarkable clarity.

With a camera this size and weight, with this functionality, I am more than happy to carry a couple of hundred more grams. I keep mine safe in a Lowepro 60 AW all weather case, which straps to my belt and has a built in rain cover(!) There's not a lot of room in there for any filters (I usually carry an ND and polarizer), but at least the camera is safe and not too bulky.

I also purchased a Joby Gorillapod for compact cameras, but unfortunately the GF1 is a touch too heavy for it. I really need the SLR version, which is a shame as it is a touch too large for my tastes.

Snow scenes are often hard for cameras to expose correctly.
The GF1 does a remarkably good job.

So, I've been very happy with the GF1. I've had it about a year now, and every time I'm impressed with the quality of pictures it takes. If you are looking for a camera with more than a compact, but less bulk than a dSLR, I recommend it. But there are also many alternatives out there - the Sony NEX-5 has been getting good reviews although some of the photos I've seen taken with it look a touch flat, and occasionally blurry - this could be related to low light performance though.

One thing to note is that the Panasonic Lumix GF2 is out soon - it's smaller, has 1080i video, and a touchscreen interface - but in my opinion they've tkaen a step back towards compact cameras by hiding the controls in the user interface of the screen, rather than having dedicated buttons. On the other hand, you'll find GF1s available at a bargain prices right now. I recommend the pancake lens if you just get one.

A photo of the person making the recommendation of the camera used to take the photo.

Alternatively, if you're looking purely for a compact camera, the Lumix DS7 / TZ10 produces some very nice results - very close in quality to the GF1. Take a look at camera-loan-meister Hendrik's review (how does he do that??). The image quality seems superb, and although the effects of a smaller sensor and lens are present, they are far less noticeable than in most cameras.

As for me, I'm sticking with the GF1. In fact, I think I'll take it out for a few snaps this afternoon!

Great detail. Great Sahti.

Irrelevant and gratuitous shot of secret bushcraft shelter found near Rovaniemi.

Gear Talk: Aclima WarmWool Baselayer Hoodie

2011-01-04T15:47:00.000-06:00

I think I may have finally found the one hoodie to rule them all - at least for my specific climactic needs. It is a hoodie of such delicious merino warmth and enough style that I can get away without wearing a mid layer during winter activities. It has the most innovative and useful hood I've ever seen on a baselayer. And, for the icing on the frosty cake, it has thumb loops. The holy grail for frigid weather? Let me introduce you to the Aclima WarmWool Hoodie.

The Aclima hoodie is made of a sturdy 200g/m2 merino - one of the warmest rated materials I've seen in a hoodie so far. For hiking or snowshoeing in anything below -12C or so, it offers just the right protection from the cold.

Many people revert to synthetic baselayers in winter for their ability to dry fast when wet from vigorous activity. Merino, being wool, dries more slowly, so it is vital to maintain a balance, using the appropriate weight wool for the appropriate tempatures and your, ahem, personal microclimate. The ideal is to wear the minimum necessary to allow perspiration to wick and evaporate without building up moisture in your baselayer. I've found that the WarmWool Hoodie and a thin mid layer (I've been using my Hangfire Hoodie) allow venting options aplenty to keep me warm and dry while doing moderately strenuous activities in the cold. For more intense aerobic activities (i.e. skiing) a synthetic top might still have the edge, but for hiking and snowshoeing, I've found this combination to be very comfortable - mainly because the Aclima hoodie has some very well-thought out and designed features.

It has a long torso length, which I like because I can tuck it in my hiking pants so it won't keep riding up. I hate it when baselayers do that - it's so annoying to have to keep readjusting things.

Unusually for a baselayer, there is a nice hand-warming front pocket. The design is stylish enough to be worn as a single layer, so this pocket comes in handy for stuffing gloves or odd things in, or for warming your hands.

The next great feature: super thumb loops. These are not just your average run-of-the-mill thumb loops cut into the sleeve. These are essentially extended sleeves. We might call them "wrist gaiters." Why are these so great? Well, they extend well over the back of your hand without stretching the arm, warming all those veins close to the surface without making you feel like you are wearing inflatable tubes on your arms. If you get too hot, you can fold them back over your mid-layer sleeves to let some cold air in. Enough cool air? Slip them back onto your wrists without using the thumb loop and you have a kind of wrist buff. Perfect. And while I'm on the subject of buffs...

The hood of the top is one of the best designs I have ever seen. It's a balaclava style hood that offers a multi-functionality approaching genius.

In "normal mode" you have a basic crew neck. The hood is folded back completely over your neck. Nothing new here.

But because the hood is a balacalva, it has a separate (yet integrated) neck and chin guard. If you imagine pulling on a balaclava, but leaving the top of the hood behind your head, you'll get the idea:

It's a buff! And not just a 'kind-of' buff, but a real one. This is simply brilliant. It provides extra neck warmth, and can be pulled up over your chin, mouth, and/or nose.

Then, when you stop and that slight breeze you hadn't noticed starts to chill your head, pull up the ninja hood.

I acknowledge it's a little weird to get so excited about what amounts to technical grandpa underwear, but I can't help but feel this is the most innovative and useful base layer I own. It is great to have a multi-functional piece of clothing which can be easily adapted to suit different conditions. And for the warmth and flexibility it provides, 360g isn't too shabby.

Of course, there are other tops out there which are somewhat similar. The Silkbody Pilot comes to mind (see Phil's preview), and indeed it looks very nice. Thumb loops, check. No crew neck mode though. I'm not sure about the ear holes, and Buff mode has yet to be revealed (perhaps in the comments?). But the price... £120. Compare this to the price of the Aclima: £73.54. I got mine from Nordic Outdoors, and for those outside the EU, the tax-free price is £61.28. A serious bargain.

As I mentioned, for intense activities I might still go for synthetic, but while I've been wearing it for the last few weeks it hasn't felt wet once. I find that in merino I am more aware of my body temperature - I'm more sensitive to when I'm getting cold, or when I'm perspiring. This is good because I then know I need to adjust my layers to compensate. Perhaps that's why I've managed to keep the top from getting wet. I know my back is perspiring, but the WarmWool stayed dry.

In short, the Aclima WarmWool hoodie is a really brilliant design, and a really great top. Highly recommended if you live somewhere seriously cold.

MYOG: Alcohol Stove

2011-01-04T09:31:00.000-06:00

I'm not very good at MYOG (make your own gear) projects. I look on with envy at the skills of others making tarps with beautiful catenary curves as they work away at their sewing machines. Unfortunately I lack the skills, tools and patience for such endeavors.

However, with the seasonal shutdown, and with Mrs. Backpacking North bed-ridden, I became restless and needed to do something other than eating gingerbread. Something outdoor related - but not too complicated. I remembered seeing some instructions for making a beer can alcohol stove on Backpacking Light.

I'm not particularly into alcohol stoves. Although I can see the benefits of a silent, light weight stove, I don't really like the idea of carrying liquid fuel with me. But building your own alcohol stove is something of a rite of passage, it seems, and with nothing better to do, I thought I'd give it a try, and while I'm at it, make a video of the process.

The instructions I followed can be found online here.

As you'll see, I made mine using less professional tools than recommended, and switched a few of the steps around. I felt that punching jet holes would be easier before cutting the tin, for example. I didn't worry too much about neatness, but it turned out pretty well - and only weighs 6g on my scales, which by all accounts is pretty light.

Alcohol stoves are pretty inefficient in deep winter, but for quick weekend trips or overnighters in summer I might take my new little stove. I'll need to make a pot stand and a wind-breaker, as even the slightest breeze renders it useless.

But now, for your viewing pleasure, I present Backpacking North's first video!

Note: No eyebrows were harmed in the manufacturing process.

First Ascent Hangfire Hoodie

2010-12-29T18:51:00.000-06:00

First Ascent, if you were unaware, is the upmarket rebranding of Eddie Bauer aimed at more rugged outdoor use. They offer a fine line in rather nicely designed clothing including down jackets and vests, microfleece tops, rain gear, and full-on arctic/mountaineering gear. Quality across the board is fairly high, and prices are competitive. It seems that Eddie Bauer have a sale of some kind every day, and often, if you buy from one of the stores, you end up paying 50% less than the ticket price, which always sends me home with a smile on my face.

I'd been looking for a hooded mid-layer for winter use for a while. By far the most popular item closest to my needs is the Patagonia R1 Hoodie (which RioLeichtsinn reviewed this week). However, I've always balked at premium you have to pay for the Patagonia brand, and $149 for a microfleece top seems ridiculously expensive to me.

Enter the Hangfire Hoodie - First Ascent's hooded mid/outer layer, priced at $99, and weighing in at 456g. I picked up the Hangfire in one of the aforementioned regular sales for $79 in autumn, and I've worn it almost every day since then. It has become my go-to top for backpacking, hiking, dog-walking, and trips to the Blue Nile.

As you can see, it's a stylishly designed top - clearly aimed at the fashion-conscious urban outdoorsman (or woman). One might say that it's a little over designed. Just look at all those seams!

The seams demark the different materials used: textured fleece (100% brushed polyester), and two-way stretch (with 5% spandex. Ooooh! Spandex!). The torso material of the Hangifire has been treated with DWR. This is because in America, it never rains on your arms. I have no idea why First Ascent made this bizarre decision, however I've found it to be suitably water repellant for light showers, but in anything more than that I'd slip on a rain jacket. The zips are also of the semi water-proofed variety.

I've found the jacket to be reasonably warm, but it only provides moderate windproofing in light winds (to be fair, it is advertised as providing protection from light winds, which is accurate enough). Once temperatures entered that awkward damp-cold region between -3 and +3C, I began to feel a chill. On either side of that, it's a great addition to a layering system.

The Hangfire has been designed as a mid- or outer layer, depending on weather conditions. I've used it as both - it's slim design allows it to easily fit under a light puffy jacket, and it's non-piling, weather resistant material makes it a great jacket for wearing casually around town. This is the main advantage is has over the R1 - I'd wear the Hangfire far more often as an outer layer. The R1, however, is really intended mainly as a base or mid layer, so direct comparison is unfair.

The inner material is a thin brushed fleece - not the fast-drying cuddly fleece waffle of PowerDry. I've not got it soaked yet, so cannot attest to it's drying speed. I suspect the outer material might take a little longer if it were allowed to wet out.

The material inside the hood is especially lovely. It's soft and feels deliciously warm against your face. On chilly mornings I pull the hood up over my hat for facial protection. It's super-stretchy to accommodate a helmet, but its elasticity pulls it close without the need for additional cinch cords. It isn't a true balaclava hood however, and leaves the face more or less fully open. One improvement I would like to see would be to change the zipper to an off-center design. I don't like a cold metal zip against my chin in frigid temps.

While fleece is quite breathable in itself, all the pockets are mesh lined so you can unzip the chest or side pockets to let out moisture when you're struggling up the hills. The chest pocket also has a hole for headphones (made, for some reason, out of reflective material) should you be in full urban mode.

Sadly, First Ascent made one terrible oversight in the design of the Hangfire. There are no thumb-loops. On the other hand, like most First Ascent clothing, a separate 'tall' model is offered, extending the length of torso. More manufacturers should consider this (my Montbell ExLight down jacket, for example, is almost laughably short on me).

In summary, the Hangfire makes an excellent winter mid layer or shoulder season outer layer. It's not the lightest hoodie around, but it's flexibility and sturdy construction make up for that. I'd like to see First Ascent make a more direct R1 competitor. Their range continues to surprise me, and their quality, while not perhaps the best on the market, is certainly high enough. Fortunately their prices are considerably more appetizing than certain other, more trendy, brands.

If you're looking for something flexible to add to your layering system, I recommend giving the Hangfire Hoodie a closer look.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-21T09:51:00.000-06:00

My bells are a-jingling, my halls are fully decked with boughs of holly, and the whole world it seems has been letting it snow. It must be Christmas, but even Santa can't resist a little backpacking before his work begins in earnest.

Santa's ascent of Mount Seward

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who follows Backpacking North, a wish you all a splendid Christmas and new year!

I've been surprised and overwhelmed at the support and sense of community in the lightweight, ultra-light, and smarter backpacking blogging world since I began writing in May. I've found writing for the blog has given me the motivation to get out more, which has done wonders for my health, both mental and physical.

There has been a lot going on at home in the last few months which has prevented me from going out more and reduced the amount of time I've had for writing. Hopefully this will change in the new year. In the meantime, I've been living vicariously through the words of others, and by way of thanks, I'd like to highlight a few of the great blogs being written by like-minded people 'out there.' All of these fantastic blogs feature great writing and photography, and have led me to discover new interests and obsessions over the last year which my paltry income can't possibly keep up with. So, for starters, check out the following...

Nordic Lightpacking - the gang of Nordic bloggers into whose hallowed halls I was honoured to be invited last month. From this link you will discover the delights of Hiking In Finland, Thunder in the Night, The Bearable Lightness, Fjäderlätt, Nielsen Brown Outdoors, The Armchair Adventurer, and Going Lighter.

My other top blogs of the year are from the UK, notably:
Lightweight Outdoors
Summit and Valley
Steven Horner
Helen's Wondering Wanderings
Minimal Gear

There are of course many others, so don't feel left out if you're not listed here. There are plenty more links to be found in the sidebar on the right. Check them out, and enjoy some winter reading curled up by the fireplace (but not too close, you don't want to melt your new iPad).

As for next year, I have a few things planned... Some winter backpacking on the Superior Hiking Trail; a few days in the northern Badlands of Theodore Roosevelt National Park; a potential return to the canyonlands of Utah; and maybe some East coast exploration. There are plenty of gear reviews also coming up, including the First Ascent Hangfire Hoodie, some hardcore winter gear, and something for the tech fetishists among you.

Now though, I have a gingerbread house to make, and will therefore disappear for a few days to begin construction.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and leave you with Walking in a Winter Wonderland from the Cocteau Twins, an appropriate song for a hiking blog if ever there was one.

Gear Talk: MSR Lightning Ascent Snow Shoes

2010-12-13T06:13:00.000-06:00

I've been waiting for some decent snow to arrive in Minneapolis so I can get out and do a spot of winter camping. We had a few inches at the beginning of December, but yesterday my wishes were answered - with snowmageddon.

During 8 years in Lapland, I never experienced the kind snowfall we had yesterday in a single day. Over 17 inches (43 cm) fell - and most impressively it was 17 inches of powder rather than the big fluffy stuff which easily builds up. The streets were impassable in the kind of way I've never seen.

So with all that snow, today I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to break out the snow shoes!

I wanted snow shoes for many years, but they tend to be very expensive for something which appears to be quite simple. From a purchasing point of view, it's best to wait until spring time for the post-winter sales. Fortunately, when I live, post-winter sales take place while there is still plenty of snow on the ground, so last year I took advantage of an REI sale and picked up a pair of MSR Lightning Ascents (30").

I opted for the MSRs as they received many good reviews, were solidly-constructed, lightweight for their size, and had plenty of floatation. Floatation, for snow shoe newbies, is what keeps you from sinking into deep snow. The bigger and heavier you are, the more floatation you need. Different types of snow also require more floatation than others. As I'm tall, and planned to backpack in them (increasing my weight even more) I went for the long version. You can't have enough floatation in my opinion.

Unlike many cheaper snow shoes, these mean business. The outer rim is solid aluminium, with teeth cut into them for additional grip on icy sections. Sturdy, crampon-like teeth also protrude from under the pivoting footbed, and the heel-raising televator bar can be flipped up to make ascents less strenuous on your legs . I find these make a big difference on hills more than about 40 degrees.

The bindings are a little over-comlicated, but very secure, and once you've adjusted the fitting for your boots, it's fairly fast to slip in and out of them. Some people have complained that they come loose, but I've not experienced that yet.

MSRs new version of the Ascent, the Axis, have simplified bindings, and an 'axis gait' adjustment, which compensates for flat-footedness. As I waddle like a duck myself, I'd like to try them.

The Ministry of Silly Walks approved this review

Even the best floatation can't help with super-soft powder though. Yesterday's snow hasn't had a chance to settle yet, so I was struggling calf-deep through untouched snow until I found a trail which someone else had made. After that, it was much easier going.

There's not a lot more to say about the snow shoes. They are the kind of equipment that either works, or fails. These work well. There are lighter show shoes out there. MSR has a range of light plastic snow shoes which might be more suited to those using them only occasionally. Kahtoola also make an interesting new model with a removable crampon/footbed.

My MSR Lightning Ascent 30s weigh 972g each - slightly less than spec weights. Not exactly lightweight, but certainly worth their weight. If you are in the market for snow shoes, you could also check out some of MSRs other models, such as the lighter Lightning Flash models, which can be extended using flotation tails. My advice, unless you simply must have them now, is wait until the spring sales.

However, with snow shoes, I tend to think that the less there is to go wrong, the better. The last thing you want miles from anywhere is a broken grommet or other inconvenience. The Lightning Ascents are strong, sturdy, simple, and reliable.

They also make a good footpath for four-legged friends to follow. (Just look at that alliteration!)

I don't always look that angry.