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.

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.