On the Arizona Trail above Coyote Canyon.
The basic pack weight was on the high side for a desert hike. On future trips in similar conditions I would take a smaller tarp, an LED headlamp (not available at the time of the hike), and a much lighter rain jacket. I wore the rain jacket for only a few hours. I would also take a pack weighing about 4 pounds or less rather than 6.8 pounds.
I don’t stick strictly to my inconspicuous dogma. Sometimes I have bright items to test (sometimes I’m so embarrassed by them that I try them only in really remote or little-visited areas or, with clothing, when cycling on a road—highways are one place I really want to be noticeable). And in winter all colors tend to look black at a distance except for very pale ones. Against snow, green is just as conspicuous as blaze orange.
Testing
Many companies spend a great deal of time and money conducting laboratory tests on equipment and fabrics, and the results often appear prominently in their catalogs, Web sites, and advertisements. There are tests for everything from waterproofness to wind resistance, from heat output to tear strength. Test methods vary, however, so comparing results can be difficult, and each company seems to find a method that shows its products are better than its competitors’. Moreover, although these tests can suggest how a garment might work in the outdoors, they don’t guarantee performance—and performance is often a subjective judgment anyway. This applies especially to warm clothing and sleeping bags—what keeps one person cozy may not stop someone else from shivering. Read and note laboratory test results by all means, but don’t assume an item that works perfectly in a lab will perform perfectly in the real world.
FINAL THOUGHTS
The chapters that follow cover the intricacies of equipment and techniques. Technical details on gear and descriptions of techniques are interwoven because, as I’ve said, no equipment, however good, is of any value if you don’t know how to use it.
The views here are my own, and experienced backpackers will undoubtedly find much to disagree with, which I hope will amuse and entertain them. Those who don’t have enough experience to have strong views of their own should note that many of the techniques and items of equipment I describe are those that have worked well for me. No one can try out even a fraction of what’s available, and there’s plenty of undoubtedly excellent gear I’ve never tried. I’ve named names only to make it easier to illustrate details. So take the things I say as guides, not rules. I make no claim to objectivity. In putting my thoughts on paper, I’ve reappraised my views about gear and techniques. The general outline holds true even if the gear I describe changes form or name or even ceases to exist, as is bound to happen with some items. The reason for describing specific items is to illustrate types of gear and basic principles, not to say that a particular item is the only one to use.
chapter three
footwear and wilderness travel
THE POWER OF THE DESERT, OF THE PLANET, SURGES LIKE ELECTRICITY UP THROUGH MY BOOTS (VIETNAM-STYLE JUNGLE BOOTS, OLD AND WORN) TO HEART AND HEAD AND OUT THROUGH SONG INTO THE MOONY SKY, COMPLETING THE CIRCUIT.
—“A Walk in the Desert Hills” in Beyond the Wall, Edward Abbey
Feet are marvelously complex, both flexible and tough, but if they are to carry you and your load mile after mile through the wilderness in comfort, they need care and protection. More backpacking trips are ruined by sore feet than by all other causes combined. Pounded by the ground and bearing the weight of you and your pack, your feet receive harsher treatment than any other part of your body.
This chapter covers the generic styles of hiking boots and shoes, the critical process of fitting footwear, how and of what materials footwear is constructed, and finally models and brands. (A note on terminology: by shoes, I mean footwear that does not cover the ankles; anything that does is a boot.)
Feet come in different shapes as well as sizes.
A variety of accessories can make walking easier and safer—from staffs to socks and, for snow travel, ice axes, crampons, snowshoes, and skis. Though snowshoes and skis aren’t walking accessories per se, they make travel in deep snow much easier, especially with a heavy pack. The end of this chapter covers all these accessories.
ABOUT FOOTWEAR
The main purposes of backpacking footwear are to protect your feet against bruising and abrasion from rough wilderness terrain, to cushion your soles from the constant hammering of miles of walking, and to provide good traction on slippery, steep, and wet terrain.
WILDLIFE
Moving softly, I begin to meet local residents: fat black-and-gold marmots scuttling among rocks on the high passes, brown flickers swooping through trees, red-tailed hawks soaring overhead, and elk crashing through the undergrowth, antlers high. I hear the elk too—their weird bugling call heralds autumn.
On one steep trail I glance down to see a tiny mouse emerge from a hole in a log and prospect its way across a rill. Then it scurries back to take its even tinier offspring gently in its jaws for the journey across the water.
Protection for the sole of the foot comes from layers of cushioning; these layers must be thick enough to prevent stones from bruising the feet but flexible enough to allow natural heel-to-toe movement. Thick soles also insulate against snow and cold ground and the heat of desert sand and rock. The tread of the outer sole offers grip; the best soles not only give security on rough terrain but also minimize damage to the ground.
Footwear should also support your foot and ankle, though this is less important than some people think. Support comes from a fit snug enough to keep the foot from slipping around inside the shoe but not so tight that it won’t allow the foot to swell. The ankle is supported by a stiff lower heel counter, or heel cup (see Heel Counters and Toe Boxes, page 56, and the illustrations on page 57), and not simply by a high-cut boot; some running shoes give more ankle support than some boots do.
Keeping your feet dry isn’t a major purpose of footwear. Top-quality leather is fairly water resistant, but only boots with waterproof-breathable membrane linings can be considered waterproof. How long they stay so is open to question, however, and they have other disadvantages. Plastic and rubber boots are waterproof, of course, but they make your feet hot and sweaty except in snow.
Light versus Heavy Footwear
Once upon a time, virtually all boots were what we now call heavyweight—with leather inners and outers, leather midsoles, steel shanks, and heavily lugged rubber soles. A typical pair of size 9s weighed at least 4 pounds, and it took dozens, if not hundreds, of miles of walking to break them in. A few lighter boots were available, but they were neither very supportive nor very durable.
Lightweight boots mean less weight to lift with each step.
The introduction of lightweight leathers, synthetic fabrics, and running shoe features in the early 1980s revolutionized hiking footwear. Most backpackers were won over, though some stayed—and still stay—loyal to the old heavyweights, and the lightweight versus heavyweight debate has rumbled on ever since. I am firmly on the side of lightweight footwear. My conversion came during a Pacific Crest Trail through-hike in 1982. I set off from the Mexican border in heavy traditional boots that soon gave me hot, sore feet. After just a few days, I ended up carrying them and wearing running shoes (brought along for campwear) much of the time. The heavy boots were more comfortable on my back than on my feet. Only in the snow of the High Sierra did I need them. After 1,500 miles, when the running shoes were just about worn out, I replaced both boots and shoes with a pair of the then-new fabric-suede hiking shoes, Asolo Approaches. These weighed less than half as much as my boots. The staff in the store where I bought the shoes were horrified to hear that I intended to backpack more than a thousand miles in them. But my feet rejoiced at being released from their stiff leather prisons, and my daily mileage went up. Although they were full of holes by the end of the trip, the shoes gave me all the support and grip of my old boots and vastly increased my comfort. I have never since worn heavy traditional footwe
ar for summer backpacking.
That lighter footwear is less tiring seems indisputable. The general estimate is that every pound on your feet equals 5 pounds on your back. If that’s correct, and it certainly feels like it, then wearing 2-pound rather than 4-pound boots is like removing 10 pounds from your pack. Boots weighing more than 3 pounds make my feet ache after about twelve miles, and after fifteen miles all I want to do is stop. Yet in shoes that weigh half as much, I can cover twice that distance before my feet complain. This isn’t surprising when you consider that I lift my feet about 2,500 times a mile (my hiking stride is about two feet long). That means I’m lifting 7,500 pounds per mile when I wear 3-pound boots but only 3,750 pounds when I wear shoes that weigh a pound and a half. Over fifteen miles that’s 112,500 pounds lifted with the boots versus 56,250 pounds with the shoes, an enormous difference.
WALKING STYLE
Heavy boots are bulldozers on the trail. Their rigidity forces a walker to stumble along, kicking rocks and gouging chunks out of the path.
Lightweight, flexible footwear encourages a better walking style. You can move faster and more gently, with less effort; you can step around and over rocks instead of banging into them. Gliding instead of trudging, you can cover more miles with the same effort simply because you are lifting less weight with each step.
Heavier boots usually also mean thicker materials and more padding. In all but winter conditions this can give you hot, sweaty feet, which swell and ache and are more apt to blister.
The ultimate in weight saving is to wear no shoes at all. This might seem like a good way to hurt your feet, but in warm weather walking barefoot is perfectly feasible. I occasionally walk short distances barefoot when my feet feel hot and sweaty in my shoes, and I often wander around camp barefoot. Wearing sandals (as I do for most summer hiking) is close to going barefoot. If you’re interested in this idea, Richard Frazine’s The Barefoot Hiker is worth reading (see also barefoot ers.org/hikers).
The Ankle-Support Myth
One of the main arguments for heavy, stiff footwear is that you need it for ankle support when carrying a heavy pack or hiking on rough terrain. This is not true.
To begin with, most walking boots offer little ankle support, since their soft cuffs give easily under pressure. (Try standing on the outer edge of the sole of a standard walking boot and you’ll feel the strain on your ankle.) Only boots with high, stiffened cuffs give real ankle support. My plastic telemark ski boots give good ankle support; I can balance on the edges without strain and traverse steep, icy slopes on my skis without my ankles’ aching. But the stiff ankle support restricts foot movement so much that when I walk in these boots I loosen the clips to let my ankles flex fairly normally. Stiff-ankled boots and natural foot movement do not go together.
What actually holds your ankle in place over the sole of a shoe is a rigid heel counter, or heel cup, found in good-quality running shoes as well as most hiking footwear (see Heel Counters and Toe Boxes later in this chapter, page 56). I once tested a pair of high-top leather boots without heel cups. On rough terrain they were worse than useless—my foot constantly slid off the insole, and my ankle kept twisting sideways. I ended up using them only on good paths between campsites. For mountain ascents, I wore the running shoes I’d brought along as campwear—their heel cups made them more stable than the boots.
Some of the greatest strain on your ankles occurs when you run over steep, rough ground. Yet mountain runners, who do this regularly (sometimes for days on end), never wear boots. Try running in boots and you’ll see why. For traversing steep, rugged terrain, you need strong, flexible ankles and lightweight, flexible footwear. Doing exercises to strengthen your ankles is better than splinting them in heavy, rigid boots.
The Stiffness Myth
The other argument in favor of heavy boots is that stiff soles protect your feet from rough terrain and help support heavy loads. I disagree. In my experience, restricting normal foot movement with stiff soles makes me feel unstable and insecure. Lateral stiffness—from side to side—is fine, though not required on most trails, since this stops the footwear from twisting under your feet when you traverse steep terrain. Heel-to-toe stiffness is what restricts natural foot movement.
Stiff soles can’t flex enough to accommodate to the terrain. I find they prevent me from placing my feet naturally, leading to a slow and clumsy gait, which could lead to injury, since your feet are repeatedly forced into the same unnatural position. Also, straining against the stiffness requires energy and is tiring.
What really protects against rough terrain is footwear that cushions your feet and stops stones and rocks from bruising them. The best way to do this is with a hard but flexible thin synthetic midsole plus a shock-absorbing layer. Most lightweight boots and shoes have soles like this.
In flexible footwear you can place your whole sole in contact with the ground, even on steep terrain, rather than digging in your heels or boot edges, which jars your legs, can make you unstable, and often gouges holes in the hillside.
Sole stiffness is required only on steep, hard-packed snow. Then a bit of stiffness makes it easier to kick the boot toes and edges into the snow.
FOOTWEAR TYPES
Boots and shoes are complex constructions, and there are many ways of making them, using many different materials. You can buy and use footwear happily without knowing whether it has a “graded flex nylon midsole” or “EVA wedges” or is “Blake sewn.” (I’ll explore the more relevant terms in the Footwear Materials and Construction section later in this chapter.) What may be more important to you is whether the boots contain any recycled materials (many now do). The selection is enormous (a recent gear guide lists forty-two hiking footwear companies and more than four hundred models, and this isn’t comprehensive). Choosing footwear can be daunting. But if you go to a store that has a good selection and a knowledgeable, helpful staff trained to fit boots, you can’t go far wrong. Those who want to know more will find information about materials and construction below.
Running and Trail Shoes
Shoes designed for trail running and adventure racing make ideal lightweight backpacking footwear, as do the hiking shoes made by many boot companies, often described as cross-trainers, trail shoes, or multisport shoes, suggesting that the makers are not sure what they’re actually for or whom to aim the marketing toward. Construction usually features suede-synthetic fabric uppers, often with large mesh areas for breathability, shock-absorbing midsoles, and strong heel counters. Because these shoes are not very warm, I wouldn’t recommend them for snow or very cold weather, but for summer trails, dry or wet, they’re a good choice. I wear them anytime I think sandals might be too cold or not quite protective enough.
Some trail shoes incorporate toe boxes, graded (for flex) nylon midsoles, and even half-length metal shanks (for explanations, see Footwear Materials and Construction later in this chapter). These weigh more than simpler designs but also give a little more protection.
A trail shoe (Merrell Exotech).
Shoes weigh from 20 to 25 ounces a pair for the lightest running shoes to 40 ounces or so for the heaviest trail shoes. (Be wary of look-alike street shoes, which probably won’t stand up to back-country use for long, and of road-running shoes without enough tread for good grip on rough, wet ground. To avoid these, buy from a reputable backpacking gear retailer.)
Trail shoes are usually designated as suitable for easy to moderate trails with light loads. I think this does them a disservice. I’ve carried heavy loads—50 to 60 pounds—over rugged mountain terrain in trail shoes without trouble.
Lightweight Boots
This is the most popular footwear category and has many names, including trekking, trail, off-trail, long-distance hiking, lightweight, and more. The designers hope one of these descriptions will catch your attention. Lightweight boots weigh from 2 to 3 pounds, the lighter end shading into the higher-cut trail shoes, the heavier end into midweight boots suitable for occasional crampon and snow u
se. The category includes most synthetic-suede boots and quite a few leather ones. The advantages of lightweights are comfort and weight. However, they are not usually waterproof because of the thin materials (except, for a while when new, those with waterproof-breathable linings), and some have many vulnerable seams. Lightweight boots reach the ankle or higher and have protective rands, or bumpers (either full or just at the toe and heel), cushioned linings, sewn-in tongues, graded flexible midsoles, and on some models, half-length shanks. When I wear boots they are usually light ones. They can cope with most terrain except steep, hard snow and ice. I wore a pair of 34-ounce leather lightweights for most of the Arizona Trail with a pack that weighed 70 pounds at one point (six days’ food and three gallons of water). They lasted the 800-mile hike and were very comfortable except on the hottest days, when I wore sandals.
Medium-Weight Boots
Weighing from 3 to 4 pounds, medium-weight boots are good for mountain and winter backpacking where cold, wet weather is expected and crampons may be needed. The best models combine the durability and support of traditional boots with the comfort of lightweight designs. Although most have one-piece leather construction, a few models are fabric-leather combinations. Most medium-weight boots incorporate a sole stiffener—either stiff nylon midsoles or half-length shanks or both—and can be fitted with crampons for hard snow and ice. Generally these boots are designed to cope with rugged, off-trail terrain in any weather. The best ones are made on curved lasts and feature one-piece top-grain leather, padded sewn-in tongues, heel counters, toe boxes, and shock-absorbing midsoles or dual-density outsoles. Many also include waterproof-breathable sock liners.
Chris Townsend Page 6