Chris Townsend

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Chris Townsend Page 19

by The Backpacker's Handbook - 3rd Ed


  PUTTING ON THE PACK

  Putting on the pack, repeated many times daily, requires a great deal of energy and more than a little finesse. With loads under 25 pounds, you can simply lift the pack and swing it onto your back. With most loads, though, the easiest way is to lift the pack using the shoulder strap (or the nylon “haul loop” attached to the top of the pack back on nearly all models), rest it on your hip, and put the arm on that side through the shoulder strap. You can then slowly swing the pack onto your back and slip your other arm through the shoulder strap.

  With heavy loads (50 pounds or so), I swing the pack onto my bent leg rather than my hip, then from a stooped position I slowly shift, rather than swing, the load onto my back. Heavy loads make me aware of how much energy putting on a pack requires; whenever I stop on the trail, I try to find a rock or bank to rest the pack on so I can back out of the harness, and later back into it again. Such shelves are rare, though, so with really heavy loads (65 pounds or more) I usually sit down, put my arms through the shoulder straps, and then slowly stand up if I feel I haven’t the energy to heave the pack onto my back. I also try to take the pack on and off less often when it’s heavy; I keep items I need for the day in my pockets and rest the pack against something when I stop.

  Putting on a heavy pack. (1) Grab the pack by the shoulder straps. (2) Lift it onto your bent leg. (3) Swing it slowly onto your shoulder and then … (4) … onto your back. (5) Adjust the straps for a good fit.

  In camp I sometimes keep the pack in the tent—if I’m not in bear country and there’s room—but usually I leave it outside, propped against a tree or rock or lying on the ground. I leave the items I won’t need overnight in the pack, whether in or outside the tent.

  During rest stops on the trail, the pack can be used as a seat if the ground is cold or wet. One advantage of an external frame is that it can be propped up with a staff and used as a backrest—its rigidity keeps it from twisting out of position and falling over, as can happen with internal-frame packs. This backrest is so comfortable that I’ve tried to make an internal-frame pack perform the same function. I’ve had some success wedging the staff into the top of the pack, but it’s much easier with two trekking poles, since then you can form a tripod. Unexpected collapses still occur, however.

  Using a pack as a backrest in camp.

  PACK CARE

  After a trip, I empty the pack, shake out any debris that has accumulated inside, and, if it’s wet, hang it up to dry. You can try to remove stains with soap or other cleansers; I regard such marks as adding to the pack’s character, and I’m also wary of damaging or weakening the fabric in any way, so I don’t bother.

  Before a trip, I check all the zippers. I also look for signs of any stitching failure if I didn’t do so the last time I used the pack.

  PACK ACCESSORIES

  Covers, Liners, and Stuff Sacks

  Most packs aren’t waterproof, whatever claims the manufacturer makes about the fabric. Water trickles in through the zippers, wicks along drawcords, seeps through the seams, and when the waterproofing has worn off, leaks right through the fabric. The few packs that are totally sealed are designed for canoeing and other watersports rather than backpacking. These have welded seams and waterproof zippers and are made from vinyl. A few—such as the 5-pound, 6,940-cubic-inch SealLine Pro Pack and the 5-pound, 6,600-cubic-inch Gaia Pack—are big enough for backpacking and might be worth considering if you expect to spend a long time in the rain.

  Water-sensitive gear (down-filled items, spare clothes, maps, books) is best stored in waterproof bags. Pack covers can be used to keep rain out of the pack, but these are easily torn and can blow off. When my last one ripped I stopped using them. You have to remove them to get into the pack, too, which can let rain in. If the items inside the pack are in waterproof bags, it doesn’t matter if water enters. Some packs have built-in covers contained in the base or the lid, and a poncho can cover both you and the pack. Even if I had one of these, I’d still keep my gear in waterproof bags in wet country. The best covers are adjustable and hug the pack closely so they don’t flap in the wind. Many pack makers offer them, and they are also sold by companies like Outdoor Research, whose Hydroseal Pack Cover comes in five sizes and has daisy-chain webbing so ice axes can be attached when the cover is on.

  I don’t use a single large liner that fills the pack because often there are wet items in the pack (such as the tent fly sheet and rain gear) that I want to keep separate from dry items. Instead, I put my sleeping bag and spare clothes in separate stuff sacks inside a large waterproof stuff sack and use another large sack for other items. For many years I used neoprene pack liners combined with seam-sealed Black Diamond Sealcoat stuff sacks. Both of these have long disappeared from the stores, however, and the coatings have long peeled off my most recent ones.

  Dry bags with sealed seams and roll-top closures designed for watersports are a possibility but tend to be heavy and a bit stiff for stuffing in a pack. I have the XS size Ortlieb PS17 dry bag. It weighs 4 ounces, holds 793 cubic inches, and is completely watertight. The long, thin shape isn’t convenient for storing in the pack, but it does make a good cover for a foam pad in wet weather. The larger Ortlieb bags are wider and could be used as pack liners. The 4,760-cubic-inch XL Short bag weighs 12.3 ounces. Pacific Outdoor’s Pneumo Dry Bags are a bit lighter and also have a unique compression valve that allows you to squeeze out most of the air to reduce the volume. This is an exciting concept, since it could drastically reduce the packed bulk of sleeping bags and clothes. The Pneumo bags come in four sizes—305, 915, 1,525, and 3,050 cubic inches, at weights of 3, 5, 7, and 9 ounces. I haven’t tried them, but I intend to do it soon.

  Nylon stuff sacks are the standard for packing gear, and many items, including sleeping bags, come with one. They’re also available separately in a wide range of shapes and sizes. However, very few are fully waterproof. They leak at the seams even if the fabric is coated. They’re fine for dry weather and when only light rain is likely. It’s in continuous rain and downpours that waterproof stuff sacks are needed, although I always carry my sleeping bag in one.

  Of course, you can just use heavy-duty plastic bags and trash bags, but these don’t last very long, and when I used them I became concerned about how many I was throwing away. Bags designed for garden trash are tougher than those for indoor use. Of the few waterproof stuff sacks, Outdoor Research Hydrolite bags are very light (1 ounce for the 300-cubic-inch one), as are Exped Dry Bags (0.8 ounce for the 6-by-10-inch XXS Cord Dry Bag). Both types look excellent, though I haven’t tried them. That’s because I discovered siliconenylon (silnylon) stuff sacks, which are very light, very durable, and waterproof. Equinox and GoLite make these; mine are by GoLite. They come in six sizes ranging from 125 to 3,200 cubic inches and weigh from 0.5 to 2 ounces in the Landlubber’s Stow Sack range, which have a drawcord closure. Paddler’s Stow Sacks have a twistable top seal as well as a drawcord and come in four sizes, from 500 to 3,200 cubic inches at weights of 1 to 3 ounces. The SiLite fabric is very thin, but I’ve used these stuff sacks for several years now, and they’ve proved tougher than standard coated nylon sacks, since the silicone can’t wear off and the slick fabric is surprisingly tear-resistant. The large stow sacks make good liners, while the smaller ones hold sleeping bags, clothing, maps, and more. I was dubious at first about the water resistance of such light, thin bags but was convinced they worked after hanging one with food in it during a night of heavy rain and finding the inside bone-dry in the morning. The seams aren’t sealed, but I haven’t found this a problem unless they’re pressed against a wet surface. If the base of your pack leaks and you have a silnylon stuff sack in it, moisture may come through the seams if it’s next to the wet fabric. This can be solved by sealing the seams of your sack with McNett SilNet, which I’ve done with the large Stow Sack that I use to line the bottom of my pack.

  For some items, like books and maps, zip-closed plastic bags are convenient. Standard ones aren’
t that strong, however, and need replacing quite often, which is a waste of resources and can also be a problem if one splits during a trip and you haven’t a spare. Aloksak bags from Watchful Eye Designs are much tougher. They’re made from 6-millimeter transparent polymer film and come in the following sizes: 4.5 inches by 7 inches; 6 inches by 6.75 inches; 9 inches by 6 inches; and 12 inches by 12 inches. I use the smallest bag for cash, documents, and other paper items, since it’s compact enough to be carried in a pocket as a wallet when traveling to and from the trail or at town stops. It’s survived a year of regular use, including one five-week trip, and is still waterproof and easy to seal. I’m impressed enough that I plan on buying some of the larger bags for items like maps, notebooks, and paperbacks.

  I don’t use waterproof stuff sacks for items that water won’t harm, like cooking pots. For these, mesh stuff sacks are fine. They weigh an ounce or less, depending on size, and have the advantage of being see-through.

  Lumbar Packs

  For many years I wore a small lumbar pack (or fanny pack, as it’s also known, though lumbar is more accurate, since the pack sits in the lumbar area when worn correctly) the wrong way around in order to reach small items without taking my pack off. I stopped doing this quite a few years ago for several reasons. One was the lightening of my load, which made it easier to take the pack off, but more important, I started using hipbelts with pockets attached and shirts with large chest pockets that would take all the items that I used to carry in my lumbar pack. I find this new system more efficient. However a light lumbar pack could be used with an ultralight pack with no hipbelt to take some of the weight.

  Lumbar packs range from tiny models consisting of a pouch on a strip of webbing to complex models with frames and padded hipbelts. Capacities run from 50 to 1,250 cubic inches or more. The largest will hold up to 20 pounds and could conceivably be used for ultralight overnight trips. I don’t like having that much weight so low on my body, however. Even with the firmest hipbelt, it feels as though it’s pulling downward. I sometimes use a small basic lumbar pack for short day hikes when I want to carry binoculars, a rain jacket, and maybe a few other items, but it’s been years since I took one on a backpacking trip. The lids of many packs convert to lumbar packs, and I do occasionally use those on my Dana Design Astralplane and Gregory Shasta packs for side trips from camps. They’re OK for loads of 4 or 5 pounds but sag with much more.

  Belt and Shoulder Pouches

  Most pack makers and many other companies offer small zipped pouches and bags designed to be fitted to the pack hipbelt or shoulder straps. I’ve tried some such as the Dana Design Wet Rib that attach to the shoulder straps, but I find that they impede putting on and taking off the pack and feel clumsy. I’m not fond of belt pouches either, since they interfere with hipbelt adjustments. I prefer pockets built into the hipbelt for small items or else garment pockets. However, there are plenty of small pouches, with capacities of a few hundred cubic inches and weights from 2 to 8 ounces, and many people seem to like them.

  Duffel Bags

  Transporting packs by car usually isn’t a problem—you just sling them in the trunk and set off. If you fly, however, your pack is at the mercy of airport baggage handlers, and it can easily be damaged. For a time some airlines made passengers sign waivers for unprotected packs, though this practice seems to have stopped.

  If you fly regularly, remember that internal frames are less prone to damage than externals. (When I flew home after one hike, my external-frame pack came off the luggage carousel with a permanent bend and a couple of cracks in the frame.) You can minimize the chance of damage by tightening all straps, tucking away loose ends, and wrapping the hipbelt around the front of the pack and threading it through the ice ax loops or lower compartment compression straps to keep it in place. A long strap or a length of thick cord can be wound around the pack and then tied into a loop to give the baggage handlers something to grab. Make sure you have nothing fastened to the outside of the pack.

  A duffel bag offers much more protection than these measures. But you’ll need a very large duffel if you have a large pack. Duffels don’t have to be heavy; mine, from Dana Design, is called a Travel Pocket. It even doubles as a pack cover, though I wouldn’t want to carry it on a hike. Made of coated Cordura, the Behemoth model has an 8,000-cubic-inch capacity and weighs 28 ounces. I’ve transported my pack in it many times, along with other items, including several ice axes, and nothing has suffered any damage.

  You can get duffels that are fully waterproof, ideal for canoeing trips but unnecessary for getting gear from airport to airport, and ones that are padded, which is necessary only if you carry fragile items inside. (I always put items like cameras, binoculars, and headlamps in my carry-on luggage.)

  A duffel needs a couple of top compression straps, a grab handle, and perhaps a shoulder strap, but that’s it. Many pack makers make duffels, as do travel-focused companies like Eagle Creek.

  chapter five

  keeping warm and dry dressing for the wilderness

  CLOTHING IS A LITTLE MATTER. THE TRICK IS TO WEAR AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE WITHOUT BECOMING EVEN A FRACTION TOO HOT OR TOO COLD.

  —Journey Through Britain, John Hillaby

  When the clouds roll in, the wind picks up, and the first raindrops fall, your clothing should protect you from the storm. If it doesn’t, you may have to make camp early, crawling soggily into your tent and staying there until the skies clear. At the worst, you could find yourself in danger from hypothermia. Besides keeping you warm when it’s cold and dry when it’s wet, clothing should also keep you cool when the sun shines. In other words, clothing should keep you comfortable regardless of the weather. Choosing lightweight, low-bulk clothing that does all this requires care. Before looking at clothing in detail, I’ll try to give some understanding of how the body works when exercising and what bearing this has on clothes.

  HEAT LOSS AND HEAT PRODUCTION

  The human body evolved to deal with a tropical climate, and it ceases to function if its temperature falls more than a couple of degrees below 98.4°F (37°C) or rises more than a couple of degrees above that. In cool climates, the body needs a covering to maintain that temperature, because the heat it produces is lost to the cooler air. Ideally, clothing should allow a balance between heat loss and heat production, so that we feel neither hot nor cold. It’s hard to maintain this balance when we alternate sitting still with varying degrees of activity in a range of air temperatures and conditions: when we’re active, the body pumps out heat and moisture, which has to be dispersed; when we’re stationary, it stops doing so.

  Hiking in a synthetic-insulated top, fleece-lined cap, and gloves on a cold, windy fall day in the North Cascades.

  ENTERING THE WILDERNESS

  The switchbacks ease. Suddenly we’re in the notch on the ridge, surmounting the pass, gazing on a wild new horizon. Below sprawls a tangle of bare rocky spurs and lake-strewn benches, split by curving valleys that gradually darken into green forest as they sink toward the black slash of a deeper, wider canyon. Beyond that, waves of rugged peaks are dotted with small white glaciers and remnants of snow. There is no mark of a human hand. This is what we’ve come to find.

  The body loses heat in four ways, which determine how clothing has to function to keep its temperature in equilibrium:

  Convection, the transfer of heat from the body to the air, is the major cause of heat loss. It occurs whenever the air is cooler than the body, which is most of the time. The rate of heat loss increases in proportion to air motion—once air begins to move over the skin (and through your clothing), it can whip body warmth away at an amazing rate. To prevent this, clothing must cut out the flow of air over the skin; that is, it must be windproof.

  Conduction is the transfer of heat from one surface to another. All materials conduct heat, some better than others. Air conducts heat poorly, so the best protection against conductive heat loss is clothing that traps and holds air in its fibers. Indeed, the trappe
d air is what keeps you warm; the fabrics just hold it in place. Water, however, is a good heat conductor, so if your clothing is wet, you will cool down rapidly. This means that clothing has to keep out rain and snow, which isn’t difficult—the problem is that clothing must also transmit perspiration to the outer air to keep you dry, known as breathability, or moisture vapor transmission (MVT).

  Evaporation occurs when body moisture is transformed into vapor—a process that requires heat. During vigorous exercise, the body can perspire as much as a quart of liquid an hour. Clothing must transport it away quickly so that it doesn’t use up body heat. Wearing garments that can be ventilated easily, especially at the neck, is important, as is wearing breathable materials that water vapor can pass through.

  Radiation is the passing of heat directly between two objects without warming the intervening space. This is the way the sun heats the earth (and us on hot, clear days). Radiation requires a direct pathway, so wearing clothes—especially clothing that is tightly woven and smooth-surfaced—mostly blocks it. Very little heat is lost by radiation anyway. Reflective radiant barriers built into clothing really don’t make any difference.

  THE LAYER SYSTEM

  As if keeping out rain, expelling sweat, trapping heat, and preventing the body from overheating weren’t enough, clothing for walkers must also be light, durable, low in bulk, quick drying, easy to care for, and able to cope with a wide variety of weather conditions. The usual solution is to wear several light layers of clothing on the torso (legs require less protection), which can be adjusted to suit weather conditions and activity. The layer system is versatile and efficient if used properly, which means constantly opening and closing zippers and fastenings and removing or adding layers. In severe conditions I also use layers on my legs, hands, and head in severre conditions.

 

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