MATERIALS
Modern packs are made from a variety of coated nylons and polyesters. These fabrics are hardwearing, nonabsorbent, and flexible. Texturized nylons—made from a bulked filament that creates a durable, abrasion-resistant fabric—are often used for the pack base or bottom, sometimes with a layer of lighter nylon inside; some makers use this fabric for the whole packbag. The most common is Cordura, though a few companies have their own proprietary fabrics. Packcloth is a smoother, lighter nylon often used for the main body of the pack. All of these materials are strong and long-lasting.
One way to keep the weight of a pack down is to use lightweight fabrics. Packcloth and 500-denier Cordura are lighter than 1,000-denier Cordura, but not by enough to make a big difference in weight. (The denier is the weight in grams of 9,000 meters of yarn. Thus 500-denier Cordura is made from yarns that weigh 500 grams per 9,000 meters. The lower the denier, the finer the yarn.) There are some really lightweight fabrics, though. For ultralight packs where weight is more important than durability, ripstop nylon is sometimes used. Silicone ripstop nylon is the strongest lightweight nylon and companies like GoLite use it in packs like the Speed (32 ounces, 3,400 cubic inches). DSM’s Dyneema and Honeywell’s Spectra cloth are very light polyethylene fibers that are ten times stronger than steel, pound for pound, more durable than polyester, and very abrasion- and ultraviolet resistant. Kelty’s 5,250-cubic-inch internal-frame Spectra pack, the Cloud, weighs 71 ounces, while McHale’s 3,500-cubic-inch internal-frame pack, the Spectra SUBPOP, weighs 39 ounces.
Unfortunately, there are penalties for these low weights. These fibers are very expensive and come only in white and gray—they can’t be dyed. However, they can be woven with ordinary nylon to produce a fabric with ripstop threads made from polyethylene fibers filled in with nylon. This produces a colored fabric with a white grid imposed on it that looks far less conspicuous than pure Spectra or Dyneema and also costs less. It’s used in many lightweight packs from companies like GoLite, McHale, and ULA and is very tough. I’ve used Spectra and Dyneema gridstop packs extensively, including on a five-week hike, and haven’t yet damaged the fabric. Even airport baggage handlers have failed to harm it—and in the interests of testing, one pack has been through several airports unprotected. I now consider these the best fabrics for packs.
While most of these fabrics are waterproof when new, the coating that makes them so is usually soon abraded. The seams will leak in heavy rain anyway. Some manufacturers advise coating the seams with sealant, but the process is too complicated and messy for me to even contemplate. I rely on liners and covers (see pages 125–26) to keep the contents of the pack dry.
Weight
For many years I used a large, heavy pack for all my backpacking on the rationale that the pack was the one item of gear whose weight wasn’t significant because comfort came first. I’m less convinced about the weight now. Comfort still comes first, and for loads of 50 pounds or more, a pack with a sophisticated suspension system is certainly far more comfortable than one with a more basic design, despite the extra weight. With loads over 30 pounds, I still find a framed pack more comfortable than a frameless one, but it doesn’t have to be heavy. For loads under 30 pounds, ultralight packs without frames can be perfectly comfortable. Comfort doesn’t have to equal weight anymore. Indeed, a lighter pack means a lighter load, which means your legs get less tired.
Despite the increasing number of lightweight and ultralight packs, most packs are still pretty heavy, weighing at least a pound for every 1,000 cubic inches of capacity—about 62 cubic inches per ounce. Many packs are heavier, with as few as 45 cubic inches per ounce. Yet a standard 6,000-cubic-inch internal-frame pack I have that dates back to 1982 weighs less than 5 pounds, giving 77 cubic inches per ounce.
For two decades—right up until the late 1990s—the weight of packs kept increasing. More complex frames, thicker padding, heavier fabrics—which most packs are still made from—detachable pockets, detachable lids, more straps, zippers, and buckles all piled on the weight. Eventually there had to be a reaction. Other gear—tents, sleeping bags, stoves, clothing, footwear—had gotten lighter. The change came with the increased popularity of long-distance hiking and the rise of adventure racing. Fast movers and light hikers didn’t want heavy packs, so lighter models began to appear on the market. The old heavyweights still dominate, but for light loads there’s no longer any need to carry a heavy pack.
A good rule of thumb for estimating pack weight is that the pack shouldn’t weigh more than 10 percent of the maximum total load: for a 70-pound winter load, a 7-pound pack is acceptable, but for a 30-pound summer load, a 3-pound pack would be better. Of course, if you use the same pack year-round, as many backpackers do, the 7-pound pack would carry the 30-pound load. Another way of thinking about pack weights comes from ULA, which suggests that a lightweight pack should be able to support in pounds the same figure as its weight in ounces. Thus my 40-ounce ULA P-2 pack should be comfortable with 40 pounds, which it is. ULA also says that an ultralight pack should support in pounds 150 percent of its weight in ounces. Thus, at 14 ounces, the GoLite Breeze should support 21 pounds, which it will do—just barely.
Acceptable weight can also be roughly determined by the volume-to-weight ratio, found by dividing the capacity by the weight in ounces. Since the average ratio for most modern packs is 60 to 65 cubic inches per ounce, any figure lower than this means the pack is heavy for its capacity (the Astralplane comes in at 58 cubic inches per ounce), and any higher figure means it’s lightweight. Quite a few packs that should be fine with light to moderate loads come in the range of 70 to 90 cubic inches per ounce. Some are even lighter. The ULA P-2 has 100 cubic inches per ounce, the GoLite Gust an astonishing 192 cubic inches, the GoLite Breeze 206 cubic inches, and the Gossamer Gear G4 285 cubic inches.
I still regard comfort as the crucial factor for carrying loads. When you’re lugging 60 pounds or more, a pound or two of additional pack weight is worth it if you get a more comfortable carry. But for lighter loads, especially those under 40 pounds, I now like packs with a volume-to-weight ratio of at least 100 cubic inches per ounce.
DURABILITY
Top-quality packs are very tough, but many won’t last for a walk of several months. I’ve suffered broken internal frames, snapped shoulder straps, ripped-out hipbelts, slipping buckles, and collapsed hipbelt padding on long hikes. On my first long solo hike back in 1976, the hipbelt tore off my new external-frame pack after just 200 miles. But I’ve also had packs last 2,000 miles and four and a half months of continuous use with loads averaging 60 to 70 pounds. My old Gregory Cassin, a discontinued model, survived a three-month Yukon walk with a heavy load when it was five years old and had already had many months of use. The only damage was to the top of one framestay sleeve, which ripped out. (Duct tape held it in place for the rest of the walk.) This degree of use is comparable to years, if not decades, of backpacking for those who go out for several weekends a month and perhaps a couple of two- or three-week trips a year.
Of the three people I know who hiked all or most of the Pacific Crest Trail the same year I did, each broke at least one pack. After months of constant use and harsh treatment, it seems that something is almost bound to fail, considering how complex a modern pack is and how much can go wrong. The heavier the load, the more strain on the pack—another reason for keeping the weight down.
Crude repairs can, and often must, be made to equipment in the field, but I’m loath to continue backpacking in remote country with a pack that has begun to show signs of failing, at least not before it’s had a factory overhaul. After replacing broken packs at great expense in both time and money on my Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide walks, I had a spare pack ready and waiting when I set off on a Canadian Rockies through-hike. On that walk I replaced my pack early because it wasn’t able to carry the weight (the makers had changed the style of the hipbelt from earlier models). The replacement pack broke two weeks before the end of t
he trek, and I had to nurse it to the finish, bandaged with tape. Perhaps I’m unlucky or particularly hard on packs, but for future lengthy ventures I plan to have a spare pack, and I’d advise anyone else to do the same.
Reputable pack makers stand behind their products, and most will replace or repair packs quickly if you explain the situation, though that isn’t much comfort if you’re days away from the nearest phone when your pack fails. Even a spare pack is no good until you can pick it up. It’s important to be able to effect basic repairs; in Chapter 8, I cover the items to carry in a repair kit.
PACKING
How you pack gear depends on the sort of hiking you’re doing, which items you’re likely to need during the day, and the type of packbag you have. For hiking on level ground on well-maintained trails, heavy, low-bulk items should be packed high and near to your back to keep the load close to your center of gravity and enable you to maintain an upright stance. This is how I pack all the time, regardless of the terrain. In theory, however, for any activity where balance is important, such as scrambling, bushwhacking, cross-country hiking on steep, rough ground, or skiing, the heavy, low-bulk items should be packed lower for better stability, though still as close to your back as possible. Women tend to have a lower center of gravity than men and may find packing like this leads to a more comfortable carry for trail hiking too. Whatever your packing method, it’s important that the load is balanced so the pack doesn’t pull to one side. The items you’ll need during the day should be accessible, and it helps to know where everything is.
I normally use a packbag with side or rear pockets and, with heavy loads, a lid pocket, so my packing system is based on this design. I don’t like anything on the outside except winter hardware (ice ax and skis) and a closed-cell sleeping mat; everything else goes inside, and I pack most items in stuff sacks to keep everything organized.
With ultralight packs with no back padding, a sleeping pad can be used to cushion your back. Standard foam pads can be placed vertically in the pack and then unrolled so you can pack gear in the middle of the pad. A Z-Rest pad (see page 237) can be folded flat and put down the back of the pack, as can a self-inflating mat. All these are effective but do take up a fair amount of the capacity of the pack. If you don’t use a pad, gear can be packed into two long stuff sacks that you stand vertically side by side in the pack. Make sure there are soft items next to your back. If you layer gear horizontally, the back of the pack is likely to fold at the junctions between layers.
PACKS: CHOICES AND MODELS
My ideal pack for heavy loads would have a suspension system that enabled me to carry 75 pounds as though it were 30; would be superbly stable for skiing and crossing steep, rough ground; and would allow me to walk upright on the flat. Internal or external frame? It doesn’t matter. It’s the performance, not the type of frame, that matters.
I would like a packbag with a capacity of at least 6,000 cubic inches; two compartments; mesh side pockets; an extendable, detachable lid with a large pocket; and straps for ice axes and skis. The total weight shouldn’t be more than 4 pounds. This pack would also see me through a three-thousand-mile, six-month walk without anything breaking!
Not everyone would want my ideal pack, however. I have friends who don’t like side pockets or lower compartments and others who never use skis or ice axes. One friend swears that traditional external frames carry heavy loads better, despite his having used top-quality packs for snow travel, where he concedes internals are better for balance.
I haven’t yet found my ideal large pack, but the Dana Design Astralplane comes close. It’s certainly more comfortable with a heavy load than any other pack I’ve tried and is also very stable. It’s a bit heavy, but I have no other complaints. It has a 7,000-cubic-inch capacity, two compartments, vertical zippers in the top compartment, two front pockets, a detachable lid with a large pocket, and wand pockets. The frame consists of a polyethylene framesheet with a single aluminum stay down the center plus carbon-fiber rods at the side that help transfer the weight to the hipbelt. The belt itself is massive and supportive. My medium size weighs 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and current models are listed as 7 pounds, 12 ounces. Ultralight it’s not! But I’ve had my Astralplane for twelve years, and it’s been everywhere from the High Sierra to Greenland, Spitsbergen, Lapland, and the Yukon and it’s still in good condition.
The wealth of lightweight and ultralight packs that has appeared in recent years means it’s no longer true that I haven’t found anything approaching an ideal ultralight pack in the 3,000- to 4,000-cubic-inch range. In fact I’ve found two, and there are many that look good that I haven’t tried. For loads in the 30- to 45-pound range, I like the ULA P-2, a 4,900-cubic-inch pack made from tough Dyneema gridstop nylon with ripstop nylon panels. It has a foam framesheet with an aluminum stay in the center, a padded back, and a lightly padded hipbelt. There’s one compartment and two huge mesh side pockets plus side compression straps. There’s no lid, just two drawcords and a strap. There are other optional extras, and my pack has zipped pockets on the hipbelt, a large front mesh pocket, a front shock cord, and an internal security pocket. The total weight is 40 ounces, about a third the weight of the Astralplane. With 40 pounds inside, the P-2 feels fine. It’s now my most-used pack.
Even lighter at just 21 ounces (large size) is the GoLite Gust. This 3,900-cubic-inch pack has no frame, just a lightly padded back, and an unpadded hipbelt. It’s also made from Dyneema gridstop nylon, and there’s just a zipped pocket on the front, a few front attachment straps, and a roll-top lid. Given the basic harness and lack of padding in the hipbelt, it’s astonishingly comfortable with loads up to 30 pounds. The reason lies in the curved back, which flares at the base and directs the weight onto your hips. For light loads the Gust is now my first choice. Overload it, though, and it quickly feels uncomfortable, as I found when I took the GoLite Trek, which has the same back system, on a five-week walk in the High Sierra. At one point I had at least 45 pounds in it—and sore hips. I solved the problem by duct taping foam drink can holders to the hipbelt. My Trek has mesh pockets on the front and sides plus a lid. The capacity in the large size is 5,350 cubic inches, and the weight is 42 ounces. The latest model has been slimmed down a little—4,700 cubic inches, 32 ounces—but is still easily big enough for 45-pound loads. The extra features are useful, but for loads under 30 pounds I’d rather have the much lighter Gust, and for loads over that, the much more supportive P-2. A Trek with a stiffer back and more padding in the hipbelt would be excellent.
There are many ways to pack your pack! For trail hiking, carrying the weight up high lets you walk upright. Light bulky items such as sleeping bags and clothing go low in the pack; heavy items such as food go in the middle, near the back. Keep heavy items close to your back to prevent the pack from pulling backward, forcing you to lean forward. For off-trail hiking on rough ground, where balance is especially important, place heavier items in the middle rather than at the top, still as close to the back as possible, as this makes for a more stable pack.
If the pack has a frame or padded back, the first thing to go into the bottom of the pack, or the lower compartment if there is one, is my self-inflating mat, folded into a square and placed against the back of the pack so it’s well protected. In front of this goes the sleeping bag (in an oversized stuff sack inside a pack liner); when I put weight on top of the sleeping bag, it fills out the corners and helps the hipbelt wrap around the hips. Next in are my spare clothes (in another oversized stuff sack). If there’s space and the pack has a lower compartment, my rain gear goes in next to the zipper for quick access. If I’m carrying a bivouac bag, it too goes in the base of the pack. This means that the bottom of the pack is filled with soft items that are bulky for their weight.
I then slide tent poles down one side of the pack next to my back and if there is one, through the cutaway corner of the upper compartment floor. Next to go in are cooking pans, stove and fuel canisters, empty water containers, and small items such as
candles and repair kit, with the heaviest items (such as full fuel containers) close to my back. Except for my lunch and the day’s trail snacks, food bags go on top of the cooking gear, close to my back because of the weight. In front of the food bags go the tent or tarp and any camp footwear. At the top of the pack I put books, spare maps, spare camera, and the windshirt or warm top I’ve been wearing to ward off the early morning chill while packing. If I can’t fit this in the top of the pack, I squeeze it into the lower compartment or into the front mesh pocket if there is one.
The lid pocket is filled, in no particular order, with hat, neck gaiter, gloves, mittens, sunscreen, camera accessories bag, insect repellent, camera lenses, dark glasses, and any small items that have escaped packing elsewhere. If there’s no lid pocket these go in a small stuff sack at the very top of the pack. One side pocket holds a water bottle, lunch, and snacks; the other holds fuel bottles if I’m using a white-gas or alcohol stove, plus tent stakes, headlamp, and first-aid kit. Any items that didn’t fit into the lid pocket or that I’ve overlooked also go in an outside pocket. Map, compass, mini binoculars, and writing materials go in a jacket or shirt pocket or hipbelt pocket. My camera, in its padded case, is slung across my body on a padded strap so it’s both well protected and accessible. Then, once I’ve shouldered the pack, tightened up the straps, and picked up my poles, I’m ready for the day’s walk.
Of course this system varies according to conditions. If I have a foam pad rather than a self-inflating mat, it goes on the outside of the pack. Rain gear can end up buried in the pack on days and in areas where it’s unlikely to be needed. Items can move from pocket to pocket at times. The aim is convenience and comfort, not tidiness and organization for their own sake.
Chris Townsend Page 18