Wool: take the plunge

“New Wool” has been cool for a few years now. So what’s the big deal with Icebreaker? And why am I posting this with mercury rising in the Northern hemisphere?

Because if you're into natural fibers against your skin, the time to switch to wool is in the spring, when it will truly amaze you. Unless you’re heading to the tropics, you’ll get more wear out of your wool t-shirts this summer than you ever dreamed of. This wool performs great as a base layer when you need it, and offers insulation when you need that. Great for travel too: the stuff always looks fresh.

Overpriced merino wool base layers and insulation from New Zealand? At twice the cost of Smartwool? Am I kidding?

Super thin, great fit, quick-dry:
totally worth the sticker shock

Nope. It really is the bomb. I am no wool specialist. But I can say from experience that whatever they’re doing out there down under, this is now my underwear of choice. By far. 

I’ve never had better-wearing, faster-wicking, sweeter-smelling or warmer socks for their thickness (VERY thin) than these. And I've done head-to-head tests against Patagonia and Smartwool. The feel of this specific wool against my skin is much softer than comparable garments. So I’ve replaced all my silkweight Capilene t-shirts with Icebreaker ultralights.

Here's a sneak peak of the new
styling for the GT series

There’s no stink. No itch. The temperature range far exceeds competitors. I work out in my ultralite GT on all but the hottest days. It's even got mesh side panels for breathability, 3M reflectors and a GU pocket. Very simply the coolest technical shirt ever made. On cold mornings, pulling on one of these is like adding a radiator to your core. The ¾ length tights go with me everywhere. Yep, I much prefer wool to silk now.

Stick with weights in the 150 range. The midlayers (240-weight and up) take on too much water when you sweat. They’re warm when wet and handsome but slow-drying. My backcountry skiing pal did a parallel test and he agrees.

The big bonus is how easy it is to launder this stuff. On the road, hand wash with Woolite, roll it up in a towel then lay it out to dry. At home, throw it in your front-loading washer and set it on wool or delicates. Don’t put in in the dryer. At room temperature, the thinnest layers will be ready to go in a matter of hours. You’re done. Now get out there.

When in doubt, Woolite

Travel Light, Drink Well

Nine wee nips and you'll never lose the cap.
It's tethered. Dry weight: 1.2 oz

The new generation of flexible, BPA-free plastic beverage bottles is just rockin'.

PlatyPreserve bottles get the air out

This stuff weighs nothing, disappears inside your luggage and still looks good on arrival. It'll hold all the water, whiskey and wine you want for three perfect days wherever you end up. I've tested these products extensively.  You bet I have.

Check out the Vapur Element, the PlatyPreserve wine preservation system from Platypus and the 9-oz Highland Flask from GSI Outdoors 

They all work suitably, clean easily and transfer no weird tastes to your drinks.

Easy to tell whose water is whose

The Vapur Element water bottle
rolls up, welcomes ice and clips to your bag

Best Cuppa Joe

When Starbucks introduced micro-ground coffee packets a few years back, accompanied by a major drumroll on the part of Outside magazine and other "industry watchers," I assumed my French press days were over.

And good riddance, I thought, because even my lightweight plastic Bodum press wasn't holding up well to field use. It was as bulky as a thermos. And I was getting bored with my coffee tasting like yesterday's sweaty socks.

Then I suffered through a few trips with the fancy micro grind. I've noticed this strange phenomenon. For every kilometer away from civilization, the microground coffee (formerly known as freeze-dried) tastes twice as much like Nescafé.

Life is just too short for bad coffee.

I've traded in the cracked Bodum French press for a nifty setup from Spokane based GSI Outdoors. A company that has consistently impressed me in the camp kitchen with their thoughtful, efficient, lightweight designs from one-pot cook sets to cutlery. On any given trip these days, I've usually got two or three of their products in my pack. Not only that, but HQ is staffed with friendly, courteous mountain guides and other lesser mortals who love what they do and like answering questions about the stuff they make. Just like at Moosejaw, these are authentic folks who love the madness.

Personal Java Press from GSI

For a little extra weight, the Personal Java Press is put together better than my old Bodum. It's insulated with neoprene and packs down small. The standout feature, for me, is the nesting carafe. Nothing's worse than cold, bitter, overbrewed coffee (unless its coffee from a packet). With this system, you brew your pot for four minutes, then transfer it to the insulated carafe to halt brewing and keep all four 6-oz cups warm til you're ready to drink.

This comes in handy on winter mornings, when you want to fill your thermos with tea or broth for the day. Brew the Java Press way and you'll still get plenty of hot coffee for breakfast.

Bonus tip: Before you head out, mark a fill line on the outside of your pot with a Sharpie marker. You can tell where it is by removing the sleeve and inserting the plunger. Mark just below the bottom of the filter ring. That's the maximum amount of grounds the pot can take. Forget the tablespoon.

Grind your beans just before you leave on your trip. If you've got a burr grinder, much the better. You're aiming for the coarsest grind you can get. Follow the excellent instructions that come with the Java Press, and you're on your way to a great cup of camp coffee.

Best Thermos

I'm trying to get used to calling it a vacuum bottle. To me it'll always be a thermos, but the one that outperforms all others in the backcountry happens to be a Nissan.

The Backpack Bottle:
hot grog by Nissan

A Nissan? As in the auto maker? Yep.

On countless winter trips, the Backpack Bottle has stood out as the lightest, most compact way to carry 16 oz of hot drinks. It'll keep your coffee, tea or broth hot all morning in below zero temperatures, and on most days you'll still find it pleasantly warm in late afternoon. Plus, no leaks. It locks.

The beautiful, cupless design is where the thermal efficiency and the weight savings come from. If you plan to share your hot grog, you'll want the Compact Beverage Bottle shown at right.

Don't drink and drive

Carrying a thermos in the backcountry is a luxury many people foolishly forego. I say "foolishly" because I've seen hot drinks revive crap days, injured people and lost travelers better than anything else. But people weigh the thermos, shake their heads and say, "too heavy. Too bulky." Now that there's a Nissan, their excuses are running thin.

Staging Areas

Chin's 24-hour turnaround: where's he headed?

Where's your staging area? Do you have to leave home to get ready to leave home?

Here's what adventure photographer Jimmy Chin's looked like when he had only 24 hours to pack for a trip. He shared the snap on Facebook, thanking everyone who helped him get on the plane:

Always love the 24 hour home base turn around. Organized chaos. Thanks to @jxnhende and the @tetonvillagesports boys for helping me get out the door on time! @revosunglasses @dynafitna @gopro @thenorthface @thephotosociety

Maxim No. 17

Adventure travel maxim no. 17: Don't forget the duct tape.

I know I've got enough when I've made a couple wraps around my water bottle. Which gives me one more good reason to bring along an actual water bottle (instead of just a bladder or an Aqua Pur).

There are like a zillion more reasons--like, who doesn't use theirs as a clothes dryer or a hot water bottle? But that's another story.

How to Fix Stuff that Gets Trashed

Plan on trashing your gear in the very near future? Who does?

We all wreck our stuff from time to time. Or else others do it for us.

And then there's the whole scheduled field maintenance thing. One day I'll actually calculate how many weeks out of seven months on the Appalachian Trail were spent "cleaning" and "repairing" my white gas-fueled MSR stove. It always felt like I was rebuilding the thing on a daily basis. I did less care and feeding for my newborn.

Now there's a hand to hold when field repairs get you down. The GearAid app for iPhone and Android.

It gives step-by-step care and repair instructions that don't suck. It even links to YouTube so you can attend GearHead University on the internet. And the app is incredibly intuitive and easy to use, at least on my iPhone, which is a bonus when you find yourself on the road, out of luck and not in the best of moods.

Heed Maxim No. 17: Don't Forget the Duct Tape. And don't leave home without a decent repair kit.

That doesn't mean you need to pack a separate suitcase. My travel kit always includes trusty ole SeamGrip, zipper repair tools, tweezers, mini scissors, eyeglass repair tools and spare parts, plus a ring-finger-size roll of duct tape, and it fits inside a sandwich-size Gladlock. My backcountry setup fits inside the smallest zippered pouch made by GearAid, the repair products division of Bellingham, Washington-based McNett.

I like the branded pouch because it's distinctive enough for kids to locate while you're standing in a gale beside your pitched tent, holding a snapped pole that got its compound fracture inside the fabric sleeve. If you let go of that pole to grab the repair kit, you'll return to a shredded tent.

So practice saying, "Go get the billy goat kit! And bring my phone!" calmly, like you're on top of it with grace under pressure. Repeat ten times. Make sure you charge your smartphone before every trip. Set it to Airplane mode. Bring backup power if you think you might trash your gear a few days hence. And then get out there!

Best Air Mattress

I’m getting a great night’s sleep now that I’ve switched to the DownMat UL by Exped.

The definition of a good night's sleep.

At 580 grams, it’s half a pound heavier than my Thermarest NeoAir. They pack down to about the same size. Compare the gain in insulation and decide for yourself if it’s worth it. The NeoAir has an R value of 2.5. The DownMat: 5.9. That’s twice as warm. 

And, as one Himalayan guide had promised me, the DownMat is by far the most comfortable sleeping pad I’ve ever tested. 

 The stuff sack doubles as the pump.

Never take the DownMat on a trip without a good repair kit. Like all air mattresses, it’s useless uninflated. But unlike most air mattresses, you can’t fill this up with the humid air from your lungs. You'll wet out the down.

So you need the roll-top yellow pump, which is quite cleverly designed, but if that gets a puncture, you’re s**t outta luck. If you've been doing the math, your odds of a puncture that will leave you sleeping on the bare ground have just doubled. Bring the repair kit! I'm thinking about buying a second pump bag as backup. It’s as light as any other stuff sack on the market. And the UL air pillow that inflates with the same pump takes up less space than my face towel. 

Who needs an air pillow? Who needs a down insulated sleeping pad? Isn't this all just over the top?

That’s what I was mumbling before I spent a month’s worth of freezing nights in Idyllwild during a cold snap. I was “luxuriously” bunked on a twin-bed size, 9-inch Kelty base camp mattress that leaked every night. It was cold as f***. I’d brought along my NeoAir for the peaks, and I froze my ass on that, too.

So fibers and feathers do make a difference. They block cold spots. They’re warmer and more comfortable than foam (whether closed cell or open cell). If you can stomach the ticket price, splurge on an Exped and don’t look back. The DownMat is filled with IDFL certified down that's humanely sourced.

Here's a great shot of Exped in use by the UK blogger Robin. I like his helpful gear reviews. And I'm often jealous of his camp sites in the Fells, Wales and Scotland.


Down or synthetic? 

I compared the DownMat UL to its synthetic counterpart on Cumberland Island, Georgia, not known for its dry climate. They were equally warm and equally comfortable on nights that dipped down to about 45 degrees Fahrenheit.

The SynMat, filled with fairly eco fibers, inflates a bit stiffer, and the fabric feels a bit warmer to the touch. Paddlers might not want to test what happens if too much damp air is repeatedly pumped into the DownMat. But for trekkers and climbers, the hefty weight and the burly size make the SynMat a purely base camp mattress. I’d never carry it on a multi-day trip.

Exped MegaMat: base camp heaven

Some day, though, I’ll want that twin bed back. Think I’ll try the MegaMat. By then, maybe they'll make a double. That's down filled. Ahhh. Zzzzzzz.

Rule 4: Cold? Put on a hat.

Off grid: hat city

In my last WFR recert, we looked at studies on hypothermia. I was surprised that people are losing core temperature so fast through the big muscles of the legs and gluteus.

We’ve always assumed that tights or long johns are the last insulation you need. Turns out, it’s just as important to keep your thighs and backside warm as it is to bundle up your noggin, according to timeworn principles.

As a result, you can usually find a pair of Icebreaker's 140-150 weight merino wool, 3/4 length tights in my pack on weekend trips. The temperature range is astounding. When you don't need them, you hardly know
they're there.

Mine clips into my harness, like this one

Whatever you do, never pack out without a hat. This is why I'm a big fan of hoody base layers.

But more on that later.

Portable power

For years I’ve experimented with solar rechargers for electronic devices I take on backcountry trips. Like my phone, my camera and my iPod. And sometimes my laptop, if I’ve escaped to write.

Most encased solar chargers aren’t rugged enough for backcountry use. The plastic cases always crack on trips. The utility of solar mats is pretty much limited to base camp use. When you’re moving, they just don’t work. And in spite of manufacturer claims, I find that they’re not waterproof. So leaving them unsupervised out in the open is just asking for trouble. They don’t work reliably inside a tent or in a resealable plastic bag.

So I’ve turned to juice packs for portable power.

The one I’m using now is Powerstation PRO from Mophie, and it works. You charge the juice pack at home and take it with you to recharge your toys on the trail.

At $100, it’s at the top of the food chain on price point. But if you do the math (which I had an Apple Genius help me with), you’ll find models costing a third as much just won’t get the job done. They’re basically designed for urban use when your phone goes unexpectedly dead and you need a power boost quick to make an urgent call or check texts. Travelers, trekkers, sailors, skiers, climbers, riders and beach bums want to run apps, recharge cameras, listen to audiobooks or radio and play music at dinner. One Powerstation is more than I usually need for four or five days off the grid.

This rugged, wallet-size model packs easily and weighs in under 350 grams. It reliably recharges my battery-sucking iPhone 4S four times in the backcountry in three-season temperatures. At 6,000 mAh (that’s milliamp hours), it should be able to give my Macbook one full recharge and still have power for a single phone recharge. (A Macbook battery delivers about 5,300 mAh.)

Managing juice packs, like managing power on your devices, is a nerd sport. Read the manual and follow the directions. The most important thing to remember for high performance is never to leave your device plugged into the juice pack longer than it takes to recharge.

Power-saving travel tip: run your phone in aircraft mode on trips, especially in the backcountry. Carry a SPOT tracker instead for safety—not the SPOT Connect, which saps power from your phone. And use a handheld GPS device for navigation⎯not your smartphone. This approach also gives you the benefit of redundancy. You can readily buy replacement batteries for that critical gear on the road. Worldwide. You’ll need an electrical outlet, a USB adaptor and a couple hours to recharge the juice pack.

3G coverage and apps like Packing Pro and HG2 are adding to the pleasure of adventure travel, so I predict that lightweight, portable power will only keep getting better. Get off the grid and recharge.

Safety: pepper spray

The backcountry is rarely a violent place for peaceful people.

I run into black bears all the time training in the Shendandoah. Face to face with these startled creatures, my skin always prickles with adrenaline. My eyes always widen with excitement. The encounters restore my awe of nature. And I’ve never needed my pepper spray.

My four ounces of last-defense personal protection just got better with the addition of UV marking dye. That makes it useful for urban applications. Should they ever arise.

And the new tubes are smaller and lighter than the old Mace spray cans. Honestly, I’m more likely to carry it now, whereas before I often left it behind.

My Favorite Riding Suit

Hi viz where you need it

Dead sexy it’s not. But I’m closing in on my third decade wearing the all-weather Roadcrafter by Duluth-based Aerostich.

The new lightweight suit is a big improvement over my old standby of more than 15 years. The redesigned zipper finally means it’s closing in on waterproof. And the built-in galoshes are the bomb in a sudden downpour.

BMW manuals list rider equipment as mandatory gear. That means you shouldn’t be on one of their Guggenheim-worthy moving artworks without a helmet, boots, gloves and a protective suit.

In my family, with its four-generation motorcycling heritage, we’re dead serious about this rule. No matter what you ride.

I’m the sort of person who likes taking my moto to the Guggenhiem, so two-piece suits have never really worked for me. Who wants to sit through a film, stroll the grounds or meet friends for dinner wearing knee pads and day-glo ballistic nylon trousers?

I like to ride to the destination, take off the gear, swipe the lipstick, run a comb through my hair and enjoy the evening. To me, that’s civilized motorcycling. The Roadcrafter is designed to be worn over street clothing. It slips on over boots. Both my suits, sizes 36 and 38, can be stored in my system case after removing the hip and spine protectors. That makes it the best choice I know for bobo commuting.

(Bobo commuting: motorcycling’s glamping equivalent. It’s a cultural allusion to Bobos in Paradise, the entertaining book by David Brooks.)

Details like the snap-back, magnetized collar
 make all the difference in hot weather.

But I’ve also ridden this gear across the country and through its share of wild weather. This suit works.

Riders I meet on the road are having equally good luck with the Lombard suit by Teiz. I like the softer hand on the Teiz suit. And it’s priced considerably lower.

If your heart’s really set on looking dead sexy on a motorcycle, you’ll want leather. Of course you will. Which means you won't be needing a one-piece. As shown below.

Leather is bulky, heavy and much too hot in the summer.

The issue with leather is four-season comfort. You'll arrive in leathers for the movie in a sweat with your hair plastered to your head. It's definitely a look.

You'll also want custom leathers for the track. As you can see from the vintage photo above, plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. Leather's still the best rider protection available, outperforming synthetics in wrecks by a wide margin. 

Whatever works for you, get kitted up and get rolling.

Wilderness medicine

Taking a trip where you may need to provide patient care in an unconventional setting?

Want to work as a river guide? Or lead your next backcountry adventure?

You'll need the basic professional medical qualification as a certified wilderness first responder.

My hat's off to WMA, the folks who certify my WFR. They don't call 'em Wild Meds for nothing.

Woofers rock

This is no cookie-cutter outfit. Plan for a rigorous 10-day course that includes both a practical and a written exam. Not cheap: it will set you back $600-$1,000.

You'll emerge trained to think critically and act appropriately in emergency situations.

And you can believe the hype. I counted five students in my last recert who came over from competitors and said they'd never recertify with anyone else again.

(To stay current, you'll need to renew your WMA WFR cert every three years at a cost of $300-600. No exceptions.)

Repairs: tent poles

Tent poles. Sexy subject, eh? Well, yeah. They're not disposable items, you know.

Meaning if you're out there at dusk in a driving rain and you haven't got them, you're indisposed.

The best of them are made from aircraft-grade aluminum, with characteristics designed specifically for your tent. When sections get stuck, bent, snapped off or lost, or when the shock cord slackens and the sections no longer spring up together, you're outta luck. No pitching a tent with less than the full compliment of poles.

Replacing them can be tricky. You need somebody who knows the industry and can source rare poles, or even redesign and fabricate replacements if need be.

Older poles, like the fiberglass ones that pair with my Kelty winter tent, may be worth repairing if they have special features that replacement poles can't duplicate. The Kelty has golf-ball sized nobs at the base of every pole, making it the only tent I've ever really been able to pitch with gloves on.

These are the folks you want for tent pole repairs. Always courteous. They give you their full attention. Their service is prompt, unfussy and affordable. Most important, they understand shock cord, aluminum and fiberglass like nobody else.

TentPole Technologies of Vancouver, Washington

Travel Tip: avoid a UK Mac attack

Mac people: Don’t leave for the UK without this key add-on. You won’t be able to recharge your Macbook in many hotels without it.

I learned the hard way on a recent trip to London.

You won’t find the product listed on Apple’s UK site (???), and it’s not sold anywhere in the US as far as I know, so buy it here from Amazon. 

Tailwinds!

British electrical code for restored buildings (like The Stafford, at left, along with the Berkeley, Claridge’s, the Connaught and so on) requires outlets to be placed too close to the skirting boards. Your MagSafe power block will not be able to dock with the electrical outlet. Your World Travel Adaptor Kit will NOT fix the problem.

Ten minutes online today will save you a trip to one of the UK’s 35 Apple stores. Not one of which is anywhere near the Cornish coast or the Scottish Highlands.

Ice Tools

Dave Roetzel getting on The Fang
East Vail, CO

Nobody's built like you. Nobody's put together exactly the same way. You have a unique personality. And so should your ice tools. 

What works best for ice climbing is finding the perfect tools for you. The tools that feel like they were forged from your own body. Made for your grip. Extensions of your soul when you swing. Capturing all your energy in use, wasting nothing.

Special features and unique design elements really aren’t as important as the toolmakers make them seem. Forget what's cool. Forget the latest thing. What matters, as with boots, is the fit. And the feel.

I was in Chamonix. I’d been in serial monogamy for years, with many different axes and various pairs of ice tools, when I found myself admiring the eye candy at Snell Sports, the Toys R Us of alpinism worldwide.

My guide, Sandy Allan, picked up one of the new, big, burly technical tools that were all the rage that season. Leashless tools were just gaining acceptance, and I could see Sandy reckoning the odds of dropping this one from one of the overhanging routes they were made for. I could see it was heavy. He swung it thoughtfully, first with one hand, then with the other.

Don't forget spare picks and a file

Beside me on the wall was a pair of slender blue Simond tools. Daintier, lighter-looking, a little less aggressive by design in the shaft, with a more forgiving pick angle and a much more user-friendly, clip-in leash system. Perfect for alpine use, Sandy commented. But they could still work off leash. And he could teach me to file the pick for a more aggressive bite on steeper routes.

“Go on,” he said. “Give it a go.”

The tool almost leapt off the wall into my grip. It was light as a feather, easy to holster and clip, but stiffer than the well-made Charlet tools I’d brought on the trip. And when I swung the Simond, my energy transferred so perfectly, I stared in wonder at the arm extension I’d magically been given.

My ice tools, Simond Anacondas

Honestly, it’s impossible to describe the feeling of that first swing. Except to say it was bliss. We're talking magic moment. But it wasn’t what I thought that mattered. It was what Sandy saw on my face.

“There!” he grinned. “That’s the one. Look at you.”

I blushed. Yes, I’d found her. Anaconda was her name, and we were perfect together, and the wizened Scot could see it all on my face.

Forcing myself to be practical, I suggested trying out a few other sets of tools just to be sure.

“Rubbish,” he grunted. “That’s all you need to know. Take the pair.”

So I did. We've been together ever since.

Let me know when you find the right pair for you.

Most Liveable Tent

I used to be the only mum I knew who’d spend a month living out of a tent. Times’ a changin’.

More of my friends are shipping out to foreign ports (domestic ones too) to recharge and restore themselves in retreat. And more of them are being asked to bring a tent.

So which one works?

The Kingdom 4 by REI. 

I’ve logged 50 nights or so in this one, and it has been the most liveable tent I’ve ever owned.

They make a larger version that “sleeps six.” That’s code for a tad more room for you and your companion. It sounded appealing until I realized that the four-person footprint maxes out the space for most NPS tent platforms.

 What makes this one so liveable, above and beyond all the others?

• Medium-sized people can stand up and walk around inside this tent 
• Bright and spacious with great air circulation 
• Bedroom and sitting room are divided by a curtain 
• Nice décor and ample, well designed storage 
• Numerous “ceiling hooks” for hanging lanterns or clothes 
• Roll-up panels on the rainfly reveal floor-to-ceiling mesh windows and front door; roll them down for privacy and warmth 
• Two big doors, front and back, each accessible from left or right, with covered storage outside the back door 
• Cook and eat on rainy days inside the front door, in the foyer-size vestibule 

Very civilized setup.

Even though it isn’t cut or made to the bomber specs of alpine tents, the Kingdom 4 holds up well in heavy gusts. Battens down dry in rainstorms. The fabric quality is good, if not great; the mosquito netting is even better. With two huge windows, one in each room, you definitely feel the cold. But on hot buggy days you couldn’t wish for a breezier hideout.

And it even has that luxury feature every base camp needs: 3M reflectors on the fly, so you can find it when you’re returning home at night with your headlamp on.

Fully deployed at a summer campsite

To get all this functionality, you need to pay attention to details. Buy the vestibule. Buy the footprint. Stake it out at every point, and add guy-lines. It sets up easily, even for one person. Turning it into a home will take the better part of a morning or afternoon on arrival in camp. I block out two hours to strike this camp, too.

If you long for a flush toilet and running water on your getaway, and if your approach allows for driving, you’ll prefer glamping.

The whole scene has come so far in the US over the past few years that we’re nearly European. Check out these four-star trailer interiors on Pinterest.

A railway sleeper car converted into a house. A schoolbus converted into a mobile home. Teak paneled Airstream travel trailers with cozy twin bedrooms handsomer than a ship’s cabin. Tonke campers for flatbed trucks. Eggs, teardrops and Serro-Scottys with beds, galleys and built-in storage. It’s endless. Talk about liveability.

But I can see why people need to spend a month chanting in an Ashram after paying these glamping bills.

Oh, James, behave!

Next you’ll be towing your travel trailer with your Porsche two-seater, the way they do in the Tyrol near Ehrwald, at the foot of the Zugspitze.

And you’ll be catching my eye, of course. But that’s another story.

Maxim No. 6

Here's Adventure Travel Maxim No. 6:

It's better in a beach buggy.

Let the air out of your tires

How To Pack

Fellow Traveler, meet Pocket Valet.

This great little app for iPhone has guided me through a year’s worth of trips. A solid four-season performer from business to backcountry to holidays abroad. 

Packing Pro makes sure you prep it and never forget to bring it. When you’re out there, it prompts you to recharge batteries and confirm bookings. When you get back, it reminds you to clean and repair it.

Forgot the sleep system you used on that great trip to Bryce Canyon? Or how many No. 2 Camalots you needed on that route? Or which budget airline got you from Berlin to the Rhine valley? It’ll never happen again with checklist-based Packing Pro.



Customize your gear list down to the last detail. Riding? Fishing? Climbing? Skiing? Diving? Paddling? Winter camping? Make a separate list for each. Trains, planes, cars and canoes? It's easy to manage logistics for each part of the trip.






Well done, Quinnscape. Now if it could only manage repairs and restocking. Four stars.

SPOT

PLB? This is the one you need. The SPOT tracker.

Alert 911, call for help or let people know you’re okay or delayed. On the road where cell service is unreliable. In the backcountry or on the water. Even fits in your teenage daughter’s handbag.

SPOT is the 7-oz. safety net for responsible adventurers. It’s a subscription-based PLB (personal locator beacon) service with a solid international land-based network.

I never ride or trek without mine turned on. It’s the ONLY reason my family lets me off the leash. Seriously.

Backcountry travelers: avoid the SPOT Connect, which saps the charge on your mobile phone, rendering the system useless in short order.

Now let's talk ethics.

Critics are right when they bemoan widespread abuse of this device. As a certified Wilderness First Responder, I've heard all the stories. Idiots regularly misuse the 911 alert feature, putting rescuers at risk. I’m all for SPOT, and so I’m all for adventurers paying for their own needless “rescues.”

Get SPOT, get out there, have fun and always bring fresh lithium batteries. Be responsible for your own health and safety. SPOT is there to back you up. It’s peace of mind, not a concierge service.

Best Soft Luggage for the Moto

50-liter Luggage Roll by BMW Motorrad

Soft luggage for long trips on the moto? Tried ‘em all. This is the No. 1 setup by far.

The 50-liter capacity took me cross country in a week, carrying everything I needed to camp. (Lashed my wet tent and poles in a separate nylon stuff sack by Outdoor Research.)

On a previous trip down to the Florida Keys, my gear had gotten soaked inside my 42-liter North Face Cargo Duffel. Believe them when they say “water resistant.” Believe me, you want waterproof.

The Luggage Roll is bomber, waterproof in the monsoon I rode it through, and very easy on the eyes. With a very secure 4-buckle, quick-release attachment system. And a map case that unbuckles and flips back to be used as a day-glo safety flag when you pull over to pull on your rain suit.

Plus, what other duffel comes with a butler’s tray so you can lay out your clothes on the wet ground? Talk about form meets function. Sigh.

Pleased to introduce you to another piece of flawless product design from the OCD BMW folks who list boots, gloves, suit and helmet as mandatory rider’s equipment in every owner’s manual. My kinda gals.

Spitzenmäßig! Five stars.

Naps

Naps. I never go anywhere without them.

Never needed a scientific study to tell me that naps work for whatever ails you.

Need a creative solution? Take a nap.

They can’t be beat for sheer strategic reboot value. They civilize all travel, not just adventure travel. 

What’s glamping without napping? 

When you wake up from a nap in the backcountry, something magical happens to the landscape. It looks different, it feels different, it smells different. Naps shift your perspective. 

Which is what makes them critical portable equipment.  

But as with love and epics, you have to equip yourself with the skill to nap well.

Develop your eye for a first class napping opportunity

I think I first aspired to world class achievement on the Appalachian Trail. My traveling companion was a Flat-Coated retriever. After seven months on the trail, sleeping together in my tent every night, I had become more like a dog while Ben had become more like a person. I taught him not to slurp his soup. He taught me to nap. What a pro.

The number of people who tell me, “I can’t take naps,” only proves that napping, like most things, takes diligence and practice. I’m still working towards my 10,000 hours.

Everyone has a different nap rhythm. Time of day, duration of nap, depth of sleep, ideal or even necessary environmental conditions. You’ll have to find your own sweet spot. 

Thru-hiker nap

In my twenties I learned from my best friend, a former cavalry officer, the time-honored rule taught at Sandhurst: “Sleep is a Phase of War.” Adventure napping is the peacenik version, where you exercise control over your mind and body to demand rest, healing and a change of tempo when you know you need it most. 

So get out there and keep improving your skills and honing your technique. You’ll soon find that, like most Epicurean delights, naps get even better when you do them with another person.

Well deserved nap

Have You Tried This?

"Water-repellent down."

Hmm. I wonder.

It's no purist's heavenly cloud, but this new Encapsil down belay parka from Patagonia looks pretty sweet.

500 grams is definitely the right weight, putting it alongside my go-to RAB synthetic hooded belay jacket.

But $700? And how breathable will it be? And I've got to send it back to Patagonia for liquid CO2 cleaning?

First Ascent came out with a bantam-weight prototype using this technology a while back, more like a down sweater. I haven't tried it. The RMI guide I talked to, who had worn his all season on Mt. Ranier, said it's the best cruiser he's ever worn.

I'd love to hear from you if you've tried this new pairing. Or know anyone who has.

For readers just getting into alpine gear, you definitely need a belay jacket. And you probably need two. One for summer flare-ups and epics. Another for winter trips and ice climbs. The four main features you should be looking for in any belay jacket are:

1. Packability
2. Hood that fits over your helmet
3. Two main zippers for warmth plus access to your harness
4. Chest pocket; handwarmer pockets that don't interfere with your harness