Gifts that get used! Any of these gifts ($8-$120) are likely to please an active outdoors enthusiast. Merino wool zip-neck top from Icebreakers, Leki trekking poles, 3 AAA headlamp from Princeton Tec, Steripen water purifier, Swiss Army knife, Insect Shield bandana, Kahtoola Microspikes,.(Tim Jones photo)

Let’s face it…outdoors enthusiasts are all about the toys. When hubby says “Honey, I really NEED that $400 tent; it’ll take 4 ounces out of my pack weight!”, what he’s really saying is “That thing is SO cool, and I want to play with it!” It makes them easy to buy for…a gift certificate to LL Bean, EMS, REI, or a million other places will allow them to  indulge. But what if you want to actually have a package for them to open?

The real problem is that anyone who is contemplating buying a gift for an active outdoors enthusiast is putting themselves in real danger of getting it wrong. You can buy something that isn’t outdoor related and watch them try to think of something polite to say (“What a lovely new tie…I can use it to hang my lantern!”).  Or, you can buy something outdoorsy—with the attendant potential for getting it wrong. There’s a flip side, too; enthusiasts who buy “agenda gifts” to try to encourage non-believers to get more active are walking on dangerously thin ice (trust us, we speak from experience on this, and have the scars to prove it). If you are going to buy an outdoorsy gift for someone, make sure it’s something they, not you, would like.

Here at EasternSlopes.com, we get to test a whole bunch of new gear (heaven for a gear junkie). And, we have lots of long-proven gear as well. So here are our carefully considered suggestions to avoid gift-giving disasters. Chances are, most active outdoors enthusiasts would use and enjoy these and picking them isn’t as difficult as choosing something highly specialized like a tent or backpack or skis. And, for the AO enthusiast that wants to subtly  encourage someone to get out there, some of the items are “everyday life friendly”; who wouldn’t appreciate a way to keep bugs away, or a light they could carry in the car and use in their hands or on their head?

One-Size-Fits-All Gifts

Trekking Poles ($50 to $120): If the active outdoors enthusiast you are gifting is still using old ski poles for hiking, or isn’t using poles at all, consider giving a pair of modern, adjustable trekking poles. It’s hard to describe how much difference they can make. When the going gets rough or slippery, they are a remarkable aid to balance,  saving you from many a fall. On long downhills they help ease your knees. They can serve as an emergency tent poles and fishing rods. And when you don’t need them, they collapse down and ride on your pack (or in your car, where they can literally be a lifesaver when you have to navigate an icy parking lot). There are many poles on the market and all of them are better than old ski poles. Our personal favorite is the Leki Corklite Makalu Ultralite ($120). They aren’t cheap, but they have comfortable, versatile grips, an easy-to-use external locking system and snow baskets are a cheap ($8) add-on.  A great budget choice is the Gabel Mont Blanc Lite ($75), which has external locks and includes snow baskets. And, for the backcountry ski enthusiast, the Easton CTR-65 ion($99) is an ultralight, 2-piece external lock pole with an extended grip; perfect for when they’re skinning up a steep hill.

The Steripen quickly turns water from almost any wilderness source into safe drinking water. (Tim Jones photo)

SteriPEN($50-100): Safe drinking water is essential for all outdoor activities. All untreated water sources are suspect and can carry a host of diseases. You have two choices when playing outdoors: either carry the water you need or treat the water you find. Of all the water solutions we’ve tried, the SteriPEN is the lightest, most compact, and easiest to use. It takes just moments to purify a liter of water with the ultraviolet light. Instant safe drinking water from almost any source, anywhere!

Waterproof Camera ($100 and up) The newer ones cost more, the older designs still work. Taking pictures make any outdoor adventure more memorable and these are wonderful cameras for taking along anywhere they can get wet, and the newest models are shockproof as well. You can pick up a refurbished model on eBay or Amazon with a warranty for relatively cheap money and not worry about how abused it gets…that’s a great option for your budding Eagle Scout. For the more serious photographer, new models from Olympus, Canon, Nikon, and all the other big names have 12 megapixel and up sensors and will take photography-contest quality photos in the right hands (if your outdoorsman doesn’t have the skills, think about a gift certificate to a local photography workshop!).

Bheestie Bag ($20): Speaking of electronics, most of us have lost at least one piece of e-gear to water damage, and probably more due to long-term corrosion. This slick little item reminds you to drop your phone, camera, iPod, whatever into it after you’ve been in wet or snowy conditions. It’s got a pouch of superabsorbent beads that suck any humidity out of it. Get caught in a unexpected rainshower when running? In goes your music player, and it has a chance of surviving. If you’re a parent, this is a stocking stuffer that could pay for itself many times over!

Clever Wraps ($10-15, packs of 5):  We tend to stick our phones, etc., into Ziploc baggies, which works in most conditions. But, if you want a more tailored option, or want a little extra protection for that rafting trip through the Grand Canyon, these do work. We wouldn’t use them for sticking in our bike jersey pocket on a daily ride; they’re pretty pricey for that use, and definitely overkill, but they’ll give you some extra security on a big, wet day.

If you want to see someone light up, put one of these in their stocking! (David Shedd photo)

LED Headlamp: ($15 to $100): The most useful, versatile light we’ve found  for the outdoors in general and especially for the long nights of cold-season camping is an LED headlamp.  You can use it hands-free or carry it like a flashlight.  And, if your enthusiast has one that’s more than a couple of years old, virtually ANY new one will be a big improvement…the technology has changed a lot.  Two notable new models for winter are the Black Diamond Storm ($50) and the Underwater Kinetics Vizion Arctic ($45).  Both have technology designed to recycle heat from the LED to warm the batteries; that translates to significantly longer battery life in the cold. The Black Diamond is the tech freak’s dream: 2 sets of white LEDs that both have infinitely variable output, and maximum blowtorch level of 100 lumens, plus red LEDs for close up work that preserves your night vision. The Underwater Kinetics is the absolute opposite; it has two levels (65 and 35 lumens), and uses a rotating filter to diffuse the light or give you red output. BUT, it’s about as bombproof, bulletproof, waterproof, and idiotproof as it gets, and has the added advantage that the light capsule comes out of the housing and doubles as a lantern so you can play cards in your winter cabin.

With a magnet to secure it to your car, an articulated rotating head, and bright LED/strobe modes, the Streamlight Knucklehead can put light exactly where you need it (David Shedd photo)

Streamlight Knucklehead (from about $65, depending on model): Here’s a great one for the non-outdoor enthusiast that just MIGHT get borrowed. Hands down, the best light we’ve ever seen to keep in the car. The 360 degree articulating head means you can aim the light wherever you want it. The magnet means you can stick it on your car’s fender and aim it backwards as a warning strobe, or aim the light to where you’re changing your tire, or even stick it on the hood to use as an emergency headlight when yours short out. If you’re feeling wealthy, get the rechargeable version with the clip; you can mount it permanently in the car and ALWAYS know you have light when you need it, plus can attach it to your belt if you’re working away from the car.

Swiss Army Knife ($20-$50): We’ve had a Swiss Army knife of some sort made by either Wenger or Victorinox in our pockets almost every day of our adult lives and wouldn’t consider going for a hike without one. Choose a basic model like the Wenger Commander ($25) or Victorinox Tourist ($23) or something a little fancier like the Victorinox Camper ($30) or Wenger Traveler ($45). Either way, it’ll get carried and used. Particularly if you get a model with a corkscrew…

An $8 lifesaver! The insect protection in this bandana is certified for 70 washings. (Tim Jones photo)

Insect Shield Bandana ($8-$12): We doubt we’ll ever leave the house again between April and October without one of these. When the bugs aren’t out, it rides in your pocket like any other bandana and serves all the same purposes. When the bugs show up, use it as a headscarf or neckerchief, and the bugs stay away from your face. Protection lasts for 70 washings—give another one for next year!  Of course there’s a whole lineup of Insect Shield clothing, too, which we’ve tested extensively and reviewed; everyone loves socks for Christmas, and what better than a pair that will keep ticks away!

GSI Pinnacle Dualist ($60) We find it hard to imagine anyone who plays outdoors who wouldn’t enjoy this compact cooking/eating kit for two. It’s just plain cute, and very very functional whether you want hot soup on a picnic or are cooking in a backcountry camp.  Pair it with a tiny canister stove and one of those Swiss Army knives that will fit inside it, and you have a totally self-contained system for eating anything everywhere.  We keep it in the car for impromptu picnics; give it to your favorite non-AO enthusiast, and maybe they’ll start wanting to picnic farther afield (or, perhaps you can borrow it once in a while…)!

Dr. Drip makes it easy to get that caffeine fix in any situation! (David Shedd photo)

Dr. Drip ($8.99/5 pack): Got a java junkie on your list? For years, we’ve searched for an easy way to make quality coffee in camp, and finally found it. Dr. Drip is a single-serving all-in-one coffee/filter/carrier setup. Open one, put it over your cup, put hot water through it, and you’ve got cafe-quality coffee in minutes. We carry a few inside a Primus EtaSolo on backpacking trips or day-long snowshoe jaunts (yes, we know that hot cocoa is more traditional for that, but some people HAVE to have their coffee); pull over by the side of the trail, and in 5 minutes you’ve got your hot caffeine fix!

Windbloc Fleece Hat ($20): Fleece hats are good: lightweight, warm, comfortable. But Windbloc Fleece is even better, especially if you are out for a long time. Many companies make windstopper versions. Look at the L.L. Bean Wind Challenger Fleece Hat ($19.50)  as a great example. Even warmer, the Arctic Shield Fleece Beanie($14) uses a radiant barrier to hold heat in (weakness:  it doesn’t breathe as well as plain fleece, so isn’t as good for highly aerobic activities).

Highgear Traildrop ($50):  Sort of an electronic Swiss Army knife, the Traildrop is a watch, thermometer, electronic compass, stopwatch, and level in one neat little package, allowing you to replace multiple items.  We’ve used it for checking temperatures to determine sleeping bag ratings, to time how long isobutane canisters run in real-world conditions, how long it takes to boil water, you  name it.  Being throwbacks to the dinosaurs, we’re still not fans of electronic compasses, but having a backup is always a good thing.  The level…well, we haven’t figured out a trail use for it, but it’s handy for setting up the gas grill for tailgating.  It’s always clipped on one pack or another, ready when we need it.

Air Grill Blower ($10):  One of our favorite “luxuries” when we’re backpacking, the imaginatively named “Blower” does exactly that…blows air. Anyone who has put their head sideways on the ground to blow at the base of a fire knows how miserable that is, and how quickly you start to feel dizzy, even when the fire isn’t blowing smoke in your face. This nifty tool weighs almost nothing (4.1 ounces), and allows you to blow a steady, controllable stream of air exactly where you want it. In dry conditions, it’s great; in wet, invaluable. Useful for backyard grilling, too!

Whatever knife you have, the Sterling will sharpen it quickly and easily (David Shedd photo)

Sterling Knife Sharpener($15):  We’re freaks for sharp knives, and have tried pretty much every tool to get them sharp and keep them that way. But with all those toys, we doubt there’s been a single backpacking trip in the last decade where we didn’t carry a Sterling with us. Small, light, ridiculously easy to use, it’ll sharpen your knives in the field or the kitchen. There’s nobody who can’t use one or more of these; 30 seconds, and you can go from dull to sharp on virtually any knife.  One in the kitchen, one in the backpack, one in the car or tool kit…you get the idea. At this price, you can own several, and you can’t go wrong. A simple, brilliant design with a lifetime warranty.

Small, Medium, Large . . .

Road ID ($20-30; ): It can (and does) happen: You are out for a bike ride or other outdoor adventure and end up in the emergency room—and no one knows who you are, who to contact, or what special medical needs you might have . . . Road ID solves that nicely and is comfortable enough to wear 24/7. The Elite is the highest end model; there are other models for wrist, shoes, you name it.

Little Hotties Toe Warmer Insoles ($15 + heat packs): These can be hard to find (they aren’t even on their website), but are worth it for any kind of foot travel in cold weather. These are NOT the disposable heater insoles, but a thick, supportive foam insole with a plug where you can insert an adhesive toe warmer and walk, skate, or ski in comfort.

If you hike in the winter, you need these traction aids. (Tim Jones photo)

Kahtoola MICROspikes ($60) By far the best traction aids ever devised for hiking on icy trails (or sidewalks). One step down from crampons, miles ahead of other slip-on traction aids when the going gets nasty. If you hike in the winter, you need these. (For the non-outdoors enthusiast, a pair of YakTrax to keep in the car shows that you really care about their safety.)

Lightweight Longies($25-$80) Whether you choose polyester or wool, lightweight longies tops and bottoms are essential equipment and no one can have too many sets. We’re now totally hooked on the superfine merino wool versions from Icebreaker  and Minus33, but we’ve happily used cheaper polyester from EMS, Marmot, Patagonia, Hot Chillys and others for years. The waffle pattern cotton ones at the local discount store? Free is overpriced for them.

Any of these under the tree will warm the heart (and other parts!) of your favorite outdoors enthusiast or not-so-enthusiast.  Don’t forget birthdays, either…and if you’re the hopeful recipient, you can always print this, highlight a few favorites, and leave it around the house!

I hate to run. Nothing philosophical; it’s simply that running hurts more than anything else I’ve ever done. Unfortunately for me, running aggravates an old shoulder injury. Pain in my legs is one thing, but the throbbing caused by every heel strike has made longer runs nearly impossible for years.

But some of the things I love to do require running. Cyclocross and “crazy style racing” (adventure races, obstacle courses, that type of thing) definitely work better when you’ve trained…and it’s in the training that the real pain happens. During a race, adrenaline and endorphins make it easy to ignore the pain, but when you’re trying to bang out a few miles to make sure you CAN run in the race, that’s when it can be almost intolerable.

With that in mind, I decided to see if there was anything that could solve my problem. I tried what seemed to be the most logical thing to do, which was to find shoes with really thick, soft heels; clearly, those would reduce heelstrike, cushion the blow, and save my poor shoulder. Logic, however, has never had much to do with my life. The cushiest shoes I could find from top manufacturers like Nike, New Balance, and Adidas didn’t help in the slightest. Could the answer lie in the other direction?

Karhu (left) and GoLite claim to be different from "conventional" running shoes...but does it really matter? (David Shedd photo)

Seeking out oddball technologies is something we specialize in at EasternSlopes.com, and, in this case two manufacturers stood out as claiming to look at running mechanics very differently, both from the herd of manufacturers and from each other. GoLite, with their BareTech, channels the current movement toward “barefoot” running and hiking, but with a twist. Rather than creating a thin covering for the foot with no cushioning, they created a last that supports the foot and arch fully, but with no difference in thickness throughout the system. This, to us, seems a sensible application of the barefoot concept; our bodies may have evolved to run without heel lifts, but they didn’t evolve to run on pavement or rock-hard trails that countless other people run on. Softer ground would certainly allow running with more comfort (as anyone who has run barefoot in sand will agree); why not let technology adapt us to the changes we’ve made to the environment?

Karhu, on the other hand, goes the exact opposite direction with their Fulcrum design. They use a higher than average heel, with more drop to the forefoot. Coupled with the patented shaping of the midsole, their goal is to get you off your heel and onto your forefoot as quickly as possible, moving you forward rather than up-and-down. Their goal is to make you faster by reducing wasted vertical energy. Makes sense, in theory…but theory often doesn’t work in the field. And, regardless of speed, would either their technology or GoLite’s help MY specific problem?

Time for real-world testing.  I started using a pair of Karhu Stable Fulcrum Rides ($84;  26 ounces); they seemed to be a good choice for training, as they’re designed for stability and longevity rather than absolute rock-bottom weight. Karhu has a long tradition of running shoes; in the USA, they’ve long been known as a cross-country ski company (which, by the way, they are no longer), but, in fact, they started as a shoe company (actually, they produced javelins and discuses in 1916, 4 years before they started making shoes, but who’s counting?). The Fulcrum technology has been around since they patented in in 1986; if they’ve stuck with it for 25 years, it must be working for someone. And, it appears that it’ll particularly work for people with large feet; I tried on my usual 10 1/2, and simply couldn’t tighten the laces enough to keep my feet from swimming in them. Dropping a half size produced a nice fit; still plenty of room, but easily snugged down comfortably. The initial run seemed positive; after a mile and a half, no obvious shoulder pain.

So far, so good. Time to try the GoLite FlashLites ($110; also 26 ounces). Since they’re a more trail-biased design, I decided to take them out into the woods. First, though, I had to get the fit right. Like the Karhus, these run to a pretty high internal volume. Their PreciseFit system has a variable pad under the forefoot; the bigger your foot, the smaller the pad.  And, it works…to a point.  I was able to get the volume correct in the forefoot area, but it felt a little sloppy in the heel area. So, I added a thin, flat midsole to take up some volume; problem solved. Once that was dealt with, the shoes fit very well, with an excellent heel pocket (extremely important  so your shoes stay on when you’re doing races like the Tough Mudder!). Off to the woods, and a relatively short run; given the totally different stance of these over any other running shoes, I didn’t want to take a chance on injuring myself before my body adapted. The feeling was somewhat different, but not totally alien; at the beginning, I actually felt MORE heel strike, as I was lifting my feet a little higher than needed to compensate for a “normal” heel and landing flatter on my heel, but once I adjusted, the feeling became smooth and forward. And, at the end of the run…no shoulder pain!

Two very different heels, but one similar result. How is this possible? (David Shedd photo)

Hmm…there’s something wrong here. BOTH shoes were working for me, and they absolutely, positively shouldn’t…based on a logical approach. But, when logic doesn’t seem to work, it’s time to figure out why; usually, it means I’m looking at the system in the wrong way.

Over the following months, I traded back and forth between the two shoes, and found out a few things. The first was that on pavement, I definitely preferred the Karhus. The GoLites worked, and worked well, but the extra cushioning on that hard a surface gave the edge to the more traditional sole. Still, I didn’t get the throbbing shoulder pain from the GoLites on pavement, so whatever had worked in the woods still worked on pavement. Second, in the woods, I preferred the GoLites. The thinness of the sole, which was somewhat of a detriment on pavement, meant the shoes really conformed to trail irregularities; that, coupled with the soft GripStick rubber outsole allows the shoe to feel remarkably secure on loose surfaces. They quickly became the “go-to” shoe for our adventure races, even more for that grip than for their light weight (trail runners are heavier than road shoes, so even though they’re the same weight as the Karhus, they’re “lighter” for a woods shoe). The Karhus were surprisingly competent in the woods, but their bias is toward harder surfaces. If I were planning to do both runs in the Wildman Biathlon, the Karhus would be my choice for the first run, the GoLites for the second.

The GoLites proved to be ideal companions for muddy trail races; the Karhus, perfect for hard-packed trails and roads (David Shedd photo)

So, it was a joy to find that there ARE shoes that allow me to run without the throbbing shoulder problem (in sort of a sick way; just because my shoulder doesn’t throb doesn’t mean that the rest of my body doesn’t hurt while running!). But, the question still remained…since they’re literally on opposite sides of the norm, why doesn’t one work better, one work much worse? Since the obvious paradigm didn’t appear to make any difference, time to shift.

And, after a lot of measuring, thinking, swearing, sweating, and generally wondering if I was nuts (Editor’s note: he is.), I finally found one area where they were similar to each other AND significantly different from the half dozen pairs of conventional running shoes hanging around the house. The conventional shoes have heels that are very thick and soft, all the way back to effectively BEHIND the heel pocket.  Makes sense…start cushioning the shock early.  Both the GoLite and Karhu, on the other hand, have a more steeply “rockered” (to borrow a term from the ski industry) heel at the back.  Looking at them from the side, it seems like that would create a smaller amount of surface area and increase the heel strike, exacerbating the shock going up through your body and into your (or my) shoulder.

Note the more steeply "rockered" heels of the GoLite & Karhu (right) over more conventional running shoes. Could this be the reason for less felt heelstrike? (David Shedd photo)

Think about the running stride, though. As you begin to land on your front foot, it’s well in front of your center of mass; as your body moves forward, your mass starts to shift over your forefoot, which is where you’ll ideally take more of the weight. Since the forefoot is a lever that can absorb shock using the flex of your ankle, the severity of the shock will be limited if you can get more of your weight to land there rather than on the heel.  Thus, a design that gets you off your heel and into your forefoot more quickly would utilize that hinge better. A thicker heel on the shoe behind the natural curve of your own heel would, though, seem to move more of the impact behind the hinge area, to where it shoots up through your body with only the cushioning of the shoe, not the hinge.

So, since the “barefoot” movement is focused on forefoot running, let’s see what the GoLite appears to be doing. The steep rocker at the heel means no significant contact or shock as you start to bring your foot down and your mass moves over your foot. Then, as you land, your weight is distributed throughout your foot, particularly on the forefoot area which allows the ankle hinge to dissipate the shock over a longer time. There’s not no heelstrike; I certainly found that my heel was still a significant part of the running motion. It’s just simply a lot less, and while the time lag of strike going through you NOW as your heel hits versus spread over the time from your forefoot starting to make contact to when you reach the bottom of the ankle hinge and start to rebound is measured in milliseconds, it doesn’t take a lot of deadening the initial shockwave to provide a lot of relief; just ask my shoulder.

But if the GoLite model makes sense, how can the Karhu work? It would seem that a heel shape that’s more conventionally thick–in fact, thicker than the average of the “conventional” shoes–would limit the advantage of the rockered heel. But, remember that the Fulcrum design is aimed specifically toward getting you onto your forefoot as quickly as possible. Sounds good, anyway, but how does it work? More headscratching and measuring…ah.  The Karhu heel is higher, but also steeper and shorter front-to-back; it’s almost like landing on a ball.  As soon as you start to land on your heel, you’re effectively catapulted forward onto your forefoot. So, as with the GoLite, you still make contact first on your heel, but only spend a tiny amount of time there, moving onto the forefoot quickly to take advantage of the lever. Put differently, GoLite uses the simple mechanics of letting your body/foot relationship in shoes be as close to the way we evolved as possible; Karhu takes a more active role by using a design that forces a quick transition. But, either way, the same goal is attained…the shoe naturally gets you onto your forefoot faster, without you making a major conscious change to your running style.

And, of course, getting you onto your forefoot faster should make you run faster. Think about turbocharged  and hi-revving engines vs. conventional ones. Both get you more power out of a small package than conventional, but they go about it in different ways. And, in this case, both Karhu and GoLite are trying to take advantage of that lever/spring action to get more speed. But, in my personal case, the effect is different; I’m gaining a comfort advantage, which is more important in my situation. You simply CAN’T be fast if you don’t run; I’m still not fast, but I’m one heck of a lot faster than I was when all I did was look at my running shoes! Am I actually faster than I would be with a conventional shoe? No idea, and I frankly don’t care; in my own particular circumstances, the simple fact of being able to run is more important.

It’s clear that there’s no “one size fits all” solution for every runner’s needs; it’s one of the reasons why there are so many shoe companies out there, and so many different models, lasts, designs, etc. Would the GoLite BareTech or Karhu Fulcrum make you a faster runner? Would either of them reduce your personal aches and pains? I can’t answer those questions for you; nor do I know which is more important to you. But what I CAN say with certainty is that they offer significant design differences from “the big guys”. Are they design advantages? For me, unquestionably. I still grumble about going out to run, but I no longer cringe at the thought. Strangely enough, they’ve been exceptionally complementary for my adventure racing; the Karhus have allowed me to head out the door and run on pavement when I don’t have the time to drive to the trails, and the GoLites have been an ideal race shoe. Until some new and better (for me) technology comes forward, I can’t imagine being without either!

No, that's NOT us. The trails near our home are not that smooth (neither is our dirt road, for that matter). But we did find that the BOB stroller worked well on our dirt road and Max even seemed to like the suspension-smooth ride better than bouncing in his "city stroller." (BOB Gear photo)

If there’s one thing Doug and I have learned as parents, it’s that theory and other people’s ideas are great, but you never really know how you’re going to handle something until it happens. And great big investments don’t always pay off when you make them before you know how your kid is going to react. Or you, for that matter. . .

Before Max was born, we just assumed we’d use a stroller a lot. Doesn’t everyone? Or at least everyone who wants to get outside with their kid, and we definitely knew that much about ourselves and the kind of parents we intended to be. We were going to be outside a lot, and it was just a matter of how and how early we could get Max involved in hiking, biking, boating, you name it. How else do you take a little infant or toddler on the walks that will lead to hikes, other than in a stroller?

For lots of reasons, including our natural parenting style, Max’s personality, and the fact that we live on a BUMPY dirt road, we almost never used the stroller we got as a shower present. Instead, we did a LOT of walking with him as a baby, using an Ergo soft backpack carrier. I could walk for miles and miles with Max on my back, exploring the old logging roads and trails near home or hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. And while I could have put him in the stroller for short walks on our road, it just didn’t feel right. For one, Max didn’t really start talking until he was two-and-a-half, so it was much easier to communicate with him right next to me. And the few times we did try the stroller, he seemed to go into some kind of apparently stressed-out torpor. He’d just sit there clutching the leaf or rock I’d handed him as though unaware of it. In the Ergo he’d check it out and “talk” about it as though it were a mysterious treasure, whether it was a hemlock twig or a rock with mica bits.

Last summer we began to think about getting back on our bikes for the first time since Max was born. A section of The Northern Rail Trail goes right through our town and it’s an easy one-mile ride to get to it. We’d gotten a bike trailer for Christmas and we found a helmet to fit Max, but we wondered how he’d feel about riding in the trailer. Since he had barely ever been in a stroller, we thought it would be a bit of an adjustment, certainly a big change from riding on Mama’s back. So we decided to use the stroller as a transition. We could walk and stop and check on him and chat with him about what we were seeing, trying to keep him engaged and interested.

It was right around this time that we had the opportunity to try out a BOB  Sport Utility Stroller, made by the same company that makes the BOB Trailer which EasternsSlopes.com’s Founder, Tim Jones, uses for tandem bike touring. Tim liked the trailer so much, he wrote it up as one of “Our Favorite Things.” The stroller we’d gotten as a shower present was a nice one, but definitely a “city stroller,” NOT intended for dirt-road-roughing-it. Who could blame Max for spacing out when he was not only isolated in his little pod on wheels, but being shaken and bounced like a paint can in a mixer? Would the BOB’s rugged suspension smooth out the bumps and make the ride more enjoyable? And how would it compare otherwise?

While many of the BOB’s features were similar to the city stroller we had, it was definitely sturdier, definitely suitable for rough roads and even, possibly, some hiking trails. Put side by side, ours was a decent stroller, while one might say the BOB was “hard core.” Aside from the suspension, the most obvious difference was the front wheel, which did not swivel on the BOB we had. (Other BOB models do have a swivel front wheel, with an option to lock for stability.) At a slow walk this didn’t make much difference, but with any speed, whether jogging or outrunning deerflies, the fixed wheel on the BOB was a huge boon, keeping the stroller from bouncing from rock to root to rock.

And overall, it did indeed seem a more pleasant ride. At least Max didn’t turn into a complete zombie. We  tried it and can’t recommend it for a walk in the woods on an old, rough, eroded logging road, but it certainly admirably handled the washboards and ruts and rocks of our country dirt road. If I’d wanted to jog on the packed gravel bike trail, the BOB would have handled that nicely, too.

I did notice that some features standard on other strollers are add-ons with the BOB. If you want to bring your coffee with you, the handlebar console is an accessory you have to add. Ditto a snack tray for the kiddo.

While I don’t think the BOB would have turned us into stroller people, or changed our parenting style, I would certainly recommend checking it out as an option if you see yourself using a stroller on rough terrain, particularly rough roads. It’s rugged, well made, and, though Max wasn’t saying, it’s apparently a lot more comfortable than a stroller designed for smooth sidewalks.

ThermaCELL units are a worthy tool in the fight against biting flies (David Shedd photo)

Much of our time in the outdoors is spent finding ways to outwit bugs. Blackflies, ticks, mosquitoes, and other little biters can make life miserable. But of all of them, mosquitoes are the most pervasive problem. Unlike blackflies,they’re awake during the day AND at night; unlike ticks, they can chase you down; they’re known disease carriers, and that high-pitched whine can drive you nuts. While clothing with Insect Shield and insect repellents, particularly with high concentrations of DEET, can keep them at bay, any other strategy that will help is welcome.

And that’s where ThermaCELL musquito repellent units come in.  Conceptually, it’s pretty simple…soak a fiber pad in allethrin (a synthetic version of the stuff that Insect Shield uses), then put it on a warm plate powered by a butane cartridge. The heat releases the allethrin and makes it rise, causing it to spread throughout the local area.  Mosquitoes (and other biters, although skeeters are the main target) can’t stand the stuff and move out of range. Not only do you not get bitten, but the whine factor is removed. The US military approved the devices and uses them, so they SHOULD work; but do they?

We tried out two versions, a Lantern ($32 retail) and an Appliance ($27).  No, we aren’t making these names up; they’re that simple. The Lantern is geared more toward use in your backyard or car camping; the Appliance toward backpacking, hunting, fishing, any situation where size and weight are factors.  Both operate in the same way; screw in the butane cartridge, open a pad and slide it on top of the plate, flip the “on” switch and listen for the hiss of butane, then hit the ignitor. Both have a little window that lets you see if it lit; if not, hit the ignitor a few times. We didn’t often need to snap it more than once or twice…ignition has been quick and reliable on both units. One concern was “how much is this stuff going to stink?”; but frankly, we never noticed any odor from more than a few inches away (and if you don’t have anything better to do than sit with your nose a few inches from the unit, you need to be hanging out in more interesting places).

The Lantern provides a comfortable glow over roughly the same area it protects (David Shedd photo)

The first test of the Lantern was on the back deck, where it was an immediate hit.  Well, not immediate, exactly; it takes a few minutes to warm up.  After some trial-and-error, we found that the best technique was to take it out, turn it on, give it about a half hour, and THEN go out; by then, the allethrin had spread through the area and the bugs were already at bay. Evenings outside became immediately more pleasant, and we spent more time sitting around after dinners, rather than heading inside as the mosquitoes became more insistent.  There was an obvious difference with the ThermaCELL lit; we tried turning it off, and after not too many minutes the number of mosquitoes around us soared.  Clearly, it works to repel mosquitoes, as claimed.

Perhaps the best synergy of the Lantern, though, is that it has an excellent LED light built in.  With two levels of brightness, it has a nice, even glow to it.  The synergy comes from the fact that while bugs are typically drawn to light, this one repels them; the allethrin comes from the top of the lantern.  Finally, a way to have light in the middle of the table, rather than way off to the side to keep the bloodsuckers away! We found that for group backpacking trips, it was worth taking along even with the extra bulk, as it did double duty as our main lantern, while making the campfire area more pleasant to sit around.  In fact, if the mosquitoes aren’t hanging around, you can simply use it as a lantern without turning on the allethrin unit, a nice bonus.

However, in the summer we often don’t carry a lantern, period. With the long days, we’re usually asleep before we need area lighting. So, the weight and bulk savings of the Appliance become more appealing.  At 7 ounces with a full cartridge versus 17 for the Lantern (with batteries), it’s a more palatable choice.  Function is the same; they use identical cartridges and mats.  Typically, we only needed one cartridge, as they last for about 12 hours.  Most trips, we were only sitting around in one spot for a few hours at a time, so a cartridge would last for 3-4 days. The mats are good for about 4 hours each, so we’d take a few, but they weigh virtually nothing…no hardship there!

It's easy to tell when to replace a ThermaCELL pad; new is blue, old is...not so much (David Shedd photo)

Time for the “nothing’s perfect” section of the article.  We found a few things about the technology that can be irritating.  The first one is fairly obvious…when it’s windy, it doesn’t work.  Get strong enough winds, and they blow the bugs away, but a moderate breeze is enough to blow away the allethrin but not the mosquitoes.  The second is related; while the literature states that it protects a 15′x15′ area, it doesn’t say WHAT 15′x15′ area. Think of the protection zone as a helium filled balloon; tether it to your neck and it sits directly over your head. But add a light puff of wind and it moves to the side. With the ThermaCELL, you can’t see the “balloon”, but you’d better be aware of its positioning. If there’s a light breeze from one side, put the appliance to that side of you. That increases effectiveness dramatically. But, if the wind direction is shifting around, you’ll find the protection comes and goes. The third and final problem is that heated allethrin rises, meaning that the biters can come in from underneath and harass your feet and ankles.  A pair of Insect Shield socks or a little DEET sprayed on your boots and ankles can solve that problem, but be prepared for it.

Availability of the units and refills is widespread; Wal-Mart, Home Depot, and many other stores carry them, or they can be purchased from ThermaCELL online.  Bottom line:  The ThermaCELL is a worthy weapon in your anti-bug arsenal.  Use it along with other measures, and it can make sitting around and talking (one of the best parts of camping!), dramatically more comfortable and pleasurable.  It’ll be in our backpacks this summer…

Pick your favorite...any of these solo tents will open new worlds on your backpacking trips! (Tim Jones photo)

In the tent world, the coolest and cutest are the solo tents.  Small, light, with all of the features of the big boys, they inspire thoughts of long trails or fast, light overnights. But how many people actually go backpacking solo? For two people, one 2-person tent is lighter and more compact than 2 solo tents.

But in our world (mainly the woods and hills of the northeast), we use solo tents  more often when we’re going out in twos or threes than when we’re going solo. That may seem odd, but think about the immediate advantages of solo tents.

First, you can separate yourself from the snorer of the group (or the others can separate themselves from YOU). Second, nobody’s equipment gets mixed together, avoiding that disconcerting “where the heck is my headlamp???” syndrome as you pack for the next trip . Third, simply, is privacy. Want to take a nap, read a book, work on writing an article (yeah, it sometimes happens)? You can disappear into your solo tent, and nobody bothers you. Or, think about mosquito season in the lean-to shelters so common on the Appalachian Trail, Long Trail and other popular campsites here in the northeast; if there aren’t too many people using the space, a small tent (without the fly) can often be set up right inside the shelter to protect you from the little biters while you sleep.

With rain coming in, having small solo tents that we could put up in thick woods was a HUGE help on this trip! (David Shedd photo)

But, a solo tent really shines when you  leave trails behind,  and go bushwhacking in the backcountry in search of that undiscovered overlook or hidden trout stream.

Trail camping is easy; most have established campsites. There’s usually plenty of space and big 2- and 3-person tents go up easy. But finding space in the backcountry isn’t always that easy. Trees, roots, rocks, bogs, puddles, and uneven ground all make it hard to find a spot where a 2- or 3- man tent can be pitched easily AND give comfortable sleeping spots for more than 1-person. But, take a little solo tent, and you can pretty much put it up anywhere that there’s room for your sleeping bag. We often find spots where the center of the tent is wedged between trees…who cares? There’s room for our bodies, and room at the front for our gear. Life is good, and the stress of finding a campsite is dramatically reduced. It opens up the world for us: we look at a map, find a hill with a couple of streams or ponds around, grab our solo tents and a fishing rod, and off we go!

Side entry tents have larger, easier to use vestibules; front entry tents have a narrower, smaller footprint (David Shedd photo)

In the good old days, solo tents were limited to mostly unpalatable choices (anyone else remember the infamous “tube tents”?).  But, as with the rest of the backpacking world, new materials and designs have created a plethora of high-quality options, often at surprisingly reasonable prices.

From a design standpoint, there are really two major choices.First, freestanding or not? Second, front entry or side entry? There are advantages and disadvantages to each–which is “right” is up to your needs. Freestanding tents have the advantage of being easy to pitch in all conditions (especially on rock or snow or inside a shelter); non-freestanding tents offer lighter weight (fewer poles), and less bulk.

Front entry allows for maximum flexibility in placement; you really CAN stick it between two trees and just slide into it.  Also, front entry tents are generally lighter and pack up a little smaller. However, getting in and out requires more gymnastics than a side entry. Usually, front entries require backing in (with some wag around the campfire going “beep, beep, beep” while you do). Also, the vestibule on a front entry tent tends to be small, and every time you get in and out you have to move your stuff out of the way.  The nature of front entry design causes another problem, as well; when it’s raining, the front door slope of the tent allows some rain to drip in.  You need to get in and out quickly, and pull anything like your sleeping bag back into the tent to avoid getting it wet.  Side entry tents have the advantage of ease of entry and better vestibule storage space, but most have a significantly bigger footprint when fully pitched with the rainfly. And you obviously have to have more open space to get at the long side for entry/exit than with the short side of a front entry tent.  If you camp a lot in the rain, though, you may want consider side entry to avoid the water drip issue.

The choice is yours…front entry clearly will work in places that side won’t, although we honestly haven’t found too many places where we couldn’t find a spot large enough for a side entry tent.

Size and weight aren't necessarily related; these are arranged from lightest to heaviest (David Shedd photo)

So, with no further ado, here’s what we found in our testing. All prices  are MSRP; street prices may vary. The weights are actual measurements, not manufacturers’ posted specs, and include the tent, rainfly, poles, stakes, and stuff sacks; footprints weren’t included. Interior measurements were all taken with the tape just touching, not pushing against the fabric . Length and width (at shoulders) measurements were taken at ground level (L1, W1), and at “toe height”, about 9 inches off the ground (L2,W2).  In a pinch, most of those dimensions can be expanded (we’ve sat in plenty of tents where our heads push the roof up); but, these measurements are to the point where you’d start to make contact with a surface.

Side Entry Tents:

Eureka Backcountry Solo ($180; 4.0 lbs . L1-93″, L2-82″, W1-32″, W2-29″, H-38″).

If you’re a member of the “big  & tall” crowd, this is the best solo tent in our test for you. A palace by comparison with the others, it’s a wide, tall, pure rectangle. We actually stuffed two people in it; while it wasn’t comfortable, and we didn’t spend the night that way, in an emergency you actually could do it. People who have a tendency to be claustrophobic will feel comfortable in here. On one rainy trip, an editor worked inside for hours sitting comfortably in a Crazy Creek chair with his computer on his lap. Setup is about as simple as it gets; slide the poles through the mesh tubes, snap the ends into the feet, stake it out. And we DO mean “stake it out”; the rain fly has a “Flying Nun” look to it that really catches the wind. Once, we had to chase this tent when we THOUGHT it had been staked securely.

Negatives: There’s NO vestibule, period. It’s the heaviest and bulkiest of the lot, and the fly isn’t full coverage. We haven’t had it happen yet, but we believe that a wind-driven rain from the back side of the tent would let water into the tent. We wouldn’t recommend it for above treeline because of the wind issues, but if you want SPACE in a package that’s built like a tank, this is your tent.

REI Quarter Dome T1 ($199;3 lbs, 3 oz. L1-80″, L2-74.5″, W1-23″, W2-23″, H-39).

The exact opposite of the Eureka, this is the ultimate NOT “big & tall” tent. Actually, it has the slimmest and shortest space of all the tents tested. One 5’3″ female tester complained of her elbows hitting the side in her sleeping bag; another commented on feeling claustrophobic. The other negative, which went away after a little practice, was the non-intuitive setup.  The poles are all attached into a single unit and require some headscratching to determine how everything connects. But, once you’ve figured it out, the tent goes up quickly and easily, and you don’t have to worry about losing a pole.

On the positive side, the REI actually had the most height of any of the tents we tested. If you can fit inside lying down, you’re likely to be comfortable sitting up. Vestibule space is very good, build quality is excellent, and it’s one of the lightest tents in the test (lots of mesh+small size=light weight+great ventilation). It’s also rock-solid and stable in wind, a benefit of the suspended truss pole design which was introduced to the industry with the REI “T” series tents. The larger Quarter Dome 2 is one of our favorite 2-person summer tents.

Bonus points: REI includes a compression stuff sack, allowing you to stuff it easily but make it fit in your pack better. As the second lowest priced tent in the test, it’s a rock solid bargain…as long as you don’t mind a tent that’s basically the width of your sleeping bag. We’d happily carry a few more ounces in the same design to gain some shoulder room.

EMS Velocity 1 ($239; 3 lbs, 6 oz. L1-84″,L2-79″,W1-31″,W2-30″,H-35″).

Think of the Velocity as a supersized version of the Quarter Dome T1.  Similar in shape and looking virtually identical with the rainfly on, EMS has nailed the dimensions necessary to make most people feel comfortable without defeating the basic purpose of a solo tent.  A 6’2″ tester was able to stretch out without hitting the ends, yet could curl up into the fetal position during the night and sit up comfortably without his head hitting the ceiling. His analysis was “STOKED!” At the other end of the spectrum, a female tester took it out for her first solo backpacking trip, and found the ease of setup fantastic at the end of a long day. One small warning on setup; the Velocity uses DAC’s “Jakes Foot” at the corners.  While we love these, they can end up clipped onto the rainfly when you take the tent down; more headscratching when you try to set it up months later! The vestibule is as roomy as the interior; one of our “monster packs” easily tucks in out of the rain with room left for easy entry. About the only negative is that it has the largest footprint of any tent here; it’s not the ideal tent if you lean towards sleeping in thick spruce forests.  But, short of that, if you’re willing to spend a little more for the best side-entry tent we’ve found yet, look no further!

Front Entry Tents:

L.L. Bean Microlight Solo ($139; 3 lbs, 8 oz. L1-86″,L2-78″,W1-37″,W2-35″,H-35″).

The only non-freestanding tent in the test, the Microlight Solo is a genuine bargain. For your measly few dollars, you get a LOT of space, relatively easy setup, a good vestibule, good ventilation in a small, light package. It’s far from perfect: As with any non-freestanding tent, setup requires more pegs and is more difficult on rocky ground. The drop-down door wants to get stepped on or tangle your feet. The fly and door holdbacks are irritating , at best. It comes with the cheapest and heaviest stakes in the test, and the maximum overhead height feels shorter than it really is unless you wiggle yourself to exactly the right spot. In addition, be very careful when closing the fly; the zipper loves to snag.

But, these are quibbles. We’ve spent multiple nights in this tent, slept well, enjoyed it…and it’s CHEAP!  It’s not the best tent here, but if you’re on a budget, it’s a quality choice.

Sierra Designs Vapor Light 1 ($250; 3 lbs, 4 oz. L1-81″,L2-74″,W1-28.5″,W2-26″,H-35″).

Simply put, the price/performance ratio of the Vapor Light was the best of the test, period. Want to hear the negatives first? Well, if you’re much over 6 feet, it may be too short for you. And, fairly typical of Western tents, the ventilation isn’t designed for day after day of 99% humidity.  And… that’s about it. Okay, we’ve got one more nitpick that we can add in…this is the first tent we’ve EVER tried where we wish the stuff sack was SMALLER; ideally, we’d stuff this into REI’s compression sack.

Positives?  Large tent, light weight. Entry is the easiest of any of the front entry tents; maximum overhead height is in exactly the right place, making it feel taller than it actually is. Shoulder and hip room are excellent. Setup is ridiculously easy (although the directions are mediocre, and are printed on paper; learn how to pitch it, then leave them at home so they don’t get soaked). The stakes are great. It even LOOKS good. And, one more small but very functional detail; the poles and stakes go into one integrated bag, so one less thing to lose…we’d like to see every manufacturer go to this system. Put all of this into a pot, stir well, and you’ve got the recipe for the tent we’d most likely buy with our own money.

Big Agnes Fly Creek UL 1 ($300; 2 lbs, 3 oz. L1-84″,L2-79″,W1-34″,W2-35″,H-36.5″).

One statistic says it all- the Fly Creek UL1 is exactly one pound lighter than the second lightest tent in this test. Not one ounce, one pound. Let’s try that in percentages…how about 32% lighter than next-lightest REI, yet MUCH roomier. Big Agnes’ fanatical pursuit of lightness pays off here; you can have a real, honest-to-God human sized tent with a decent vestibule for bivvy sack weight. It’s also as tiny as it is light; we’ve carried bivvy sacks that took up more pack room. Setup is easy as well; the only quirk is a clip that connects the side of the tent to the fly so it uses a single stake; it works, but it doesn’t make for a taut, neat-looking pitch. Like the REI, the Big Agnes is a bathtub design, adding to the non-taut look.  When you first put it up, it’s easy to think that you’ve done something wrong; don’t worry, you haven’t. The design works, and (once you get comfortable with the oddities), works well.  It’s not perfect (nothing is); maximum headroom is well down the tent, so not entirely usable, and the “Triangle Loft” accessory, which gives you some in-tent storage, uses up some of what is left. We’d also highly recommend getting a footprint for this tent, given how thin the material is(a good idea with any tent, actually).  And, of course, it’s the most expensive tent in the test; the lightest products usually are. Still, the value is there, if your hot buttons are light & small; there’s simply nothing out there like it. Plenty of room, quality materials, ridiculous weight…this is a cutting edge tent for the early adopters out there.

Unless you’re over 6’4″, you can find a tent in this group that’ll work for you.  And, having one will mean more opportunities for you to get out, try new places, new trails, and enjoy yourself with that good friend you just can’t share a tent with.  It was a long winter, you’re due for a new toy…give these a try!

More for your money! Both the GSI Pinnacle Camper (left) and the MSR Flex 4 provide all-in-one cooking/eating solutions. (David Shedd photo)

Ultralight camping can be wonderful, but sometimes ease-of-use and organization are more important.  Nothing’s more frustrating than hearing  ”I thought YOU were bringing the big kettle!”, just when you’re ready to boil up a mess of fresh-picked fiddleheads, and there are 4 hungry people waiting for dinner.  When it’s just two of us and dinner’s going to be relatively simple, we tend to grab the GSI Dualist; but, are there solutions that make things easy for larger groups?

The answer is a definite yes, and two top options are MSR’s Flex 4 ($160 MSRP) and GSI Outdoors’ Pinnacle Camper ($120).  Although significantly different in the details, the concepts are remarkably similar; two large pots, plates, bowls, and insulated mugs, all neatly packaged into a “NOW try to forget something!” combination (okay, you still do have to remember your fork and spoon).  With two good options, which one is best?

Turns out that there’s no easy answer to that question.  Each has strengths, each has weaknesses, and which you choose depends more on your own needs and preferences than on which is “better” than the other.  The good news, cutting to the chase, is that both are functional and well-designed overall; even if you buy the “wrong” one, you’ll have a system that will make your life easy for group trips.  So, item-by-item, here’s the breakdown.

Design choices; MSR goes for anodized pots with integrated handles, GSI for nonstick with a removable handle (David Shedd photo)

Pots- Here’s arguably where the greatest difference between the two systems appears.  MSR, true to form, chose to make theirs heavy duty anodized aluminum; durable is their hallmark.  GSI, on the other hand, went with a lightweight aluminum with Radiance non-stick coating. With the MSR, you can use any utensils. You could probably also use the big pot to beat a bear that’s trying to break into your tent over the head without damaging it (the pot, not the bear).  GSI claims you can use metal utensils with Radiance, but we’re somewhat unconvinced; coatings scratch.  However, if you’re relatively careful about your cookware, the GSI offers easier non-stick cooking and cleaning, and somewhat lighter weight due to the thinner metal. The MSR comes in at 3 pounds, 9.6 ounces, vs 3 pounds, 5.4 ounces for the GSI (more on the GSI system weight later, though). If you tend to take a bunch of 13 year old ham-handed Boy Scouts out or camp 100 days a year, better to go for the durability; more careful adults that get out a handful of times a year should get plenty of life out of the GSI.

One other advantage to the MSR–integrated handles. To make the system small and light, GSI went with a folding handle; it works very well, and we have no issues with it…except that word “it”.  “They” would be better; if you’re using both pots at the same time, switching the handle from one to the other is a royal pain in the neck.

Designed for use on a larger stove, the frying pan with the GSI Pinnacle Camper should NOT be used on a canister microstove, for obvious reasons! (David Shedd photo)

And, while we’re still on pots, we’ve left out one significant detail.  The Pinnacle Camper, unlike the Flex 4, comes with a shallow, light, steep-sided frying pan, as well. Sadly, we found that when we added the handle to it, it was so unstable as to be dangerous. When we contacted GSI Outdoors about that, they said that they really didn’t expect the system to be used by “serious” backpackers; it was designed more for people doing car camping with a big, flat propane stove. Fair enough, particularly as on their website it’s only listed as a car camping product. BUT, this system deserves to be taken out in the woods, and backpackers shouldn’t be excluded from using it. Our recommendation: Leave the frying pan in your garage. You’ll save about 6 ounces of carry weight, and nobody will burn themselves with bacon grease. Personally, we’d love to see GSI replace the frying pan with another handle; the system would work better AND weigh less…maybe they can reconfigure it as a different product aimed more perfectly at backpackers.  If, of course, you ARE going car camping and have a more typical propane grill with a large surface for the pan to rest on, take it and enjoy it!

The deep plate/bowls of the MSR Flex 4 are more "flex"ible in use than the smaller GSI plates. (David Shedd photo)

Plates/Bowls- Another fundamental difference between the two systems. MSR offers a single large combination plate/bowl per person; GSI uses smaller plates, with the bowls integrated into the cups (similar to the system in the Dualist). Each version works, but which you choose will depend on your own personal camp cooking style. If you tend toward stews and “glop” meals (a whole bunch of stuff thrown together in one pot), the MSR makes more sense; GSI’s bowls are too small and oddly shaped to handle big meals of that sort on more than a off-and-on basis. If you cook up food that tends to require a knife and fork (chicken fricassee, anyone?), the flatter plates of the GSI are easier to cut on. Anything that you tend to slurp (Ramen noodles, for instance) also will work better in the GSI bowls, as the triangular shape creates a natural funnel.

Mugs- This is probably where the two systems are most similar, with both having relatively tall units that are shaped to fit inside a round pot.  Yet even here, the details are substantially different. The MSR is a metal-lined mug covered by a soft plastic insulating layer. With the drinking hole along the rounded side, the cups fit relatively well into either hand. The GSI is a plastic with a neoprene cozy, and drinking spouts at either corner.  That’s a handy feature; whether you drink right or left handed, put the curved side of the mug against your hand, and it’s comfortable to hold and sip.  Insulating value was identical…we poured 8 ounces of 140 degree tea in both, let it sit in 50 degree weather for 15 minutes, and both measured at 120 degrees. Your choice here; both work, neither are as good as a regular coffee mug. A slight nod goes to the GSI as the metal edges of the MSR tend to get hot, and sometimes the MSR covers were loose and needed to be held on, plus the vent hole to let air in is small enough that it made sipping difficult.

Covers-  Both intelligently designed with strainers built in, the variance here is in material and cooking design. MSR went with aluminum, GSI with plastic; we’re neutral , as they both work fine and feel solid with no tendency to break. MSR uses flat covers, GSI’s are domed. Here again, it depends on how you cook; if you want to boil pasta fast, go MSR, but if you want to simmer a savory stew, domed covers circulate the odors and flavors better.  For typical backpacking cooking, the difference is minor, at best. We’ll call this one a draw, though the pot cover on the MSR does lock on with snap rollers, making it easier to drain pasta and such.

Form factor-  Simply put, the GSI is slightly smaller and fits in backpacks better. If you’ve got REALLY big eaters, you may need a pot as large as the MSR’s, but for most uses the GSI is plenty big. Again, if you boil tons of pasta, go to the MSR; the extra volume allows more water and better texture.

The carrying bag for the GSI Pinnacle Camper is also remarkably useful for carrying water or doing dishes. (David Shedd photo)

GSI bonus-  The one thing that the GSI has that the MSR doesn’t (other than the backpacker-unfriendly frying pan) is the carrying case.  As with the Dualist, it’s a waterproof seam-sealed bag that can be used for carrying water or doing dishes.  It’s very functional and is a nice touch; we found we could fill it half full and carry it comfortably without any worries about spilling.

And the winner is?  The owner…both can make your life a lot easier.  If GSI ditched the frying pan and included a second handle, that would be enough to tip the scales entirely in their favor; but as it stands, both do most things as well or better than most of the stuff that most of us own. The GSI is a bargain, the MSR is a beast that’ll outlive you…which kind of camp cook are YOU?

How do ultralight canister stoves from legends Primus & Coleman stack up against the other contenders? To the right is Coleman's discontinued monster stove, the F1 PowerBoost. (David Shedd photo)

There aren’t many outdoor product companies that have a full Wikipedia page devoted to an outdated, defunct product. But, both Primus and Coleman have that honor. As the developers of the first pressurized portable kerosene stove back in 1892, Primus reached the stage of being generic; people referred to having “Primus stoves“, regardless of the actual brand of the stove they owned. Coleman started a little later, creating the G.I. Pocket Stove for the U.S Military in World War II. Its significant improvement was that it didn’t require preheating from a separate source; the fuel in the pressurized canister was released into the burner for that purpose, making it easier to use in field conditions.

In recent years, though, Primus has flown a bit under the radar for many outdoors enthusiasts; ownership changes and product line changes caused it to disappear from many of the “big name” stores. But, they’re back as part of the Brunton group, with some very high-tech products…and a little canister microstove called the “Express“($54 w/piezo ignition). Coleman, on the other hand, has continued to produce nearly legendary multi-fuel stoves that are remarkably similar to the original (albeit substantially smaller and lighter!). Coleman stoves are still the unit of choice for many summer camps, backpacking groups, etc., as they’re pretty much bulletproof, reasonably priced, and use cheap fuel. Along the way, Coleman created the canister microstove category with the F1 Ultralight($49.99, no ignition), a tiny blowtorch with the reliability expected of Coleman stoves.

We’ve been thoroughly impressed with the canister stoves that we’ve tested over the past couple of years, all solid, functional products. Still, the variation in product design offers a lot of choices for a consumer. These are far from commodity items.  As we opened the box, we wondered…how would the Express distinguish itself from the crowd? And how would the long-in-the-tooth F1 stand up to the most modern products?

Radically different burner designs on the Primus (left) and Coleman stoves produced radically different cooking results. (David Shedd photo)

Even at first look, the Primus was different.  For starters, the burner is a slightly concave bowl, rather than a convex (mounded) style like the F1. After some head scratching, we realized that it allows for the same surface area, but more spread out (theoretically, with more even heating on our pans). In addition, since canister fuel rises, it will automatically spread from the lower center to the higher edges, again meaning more even heating. Interesting. Of course, theory is one thing and practice is another. The Coleman’s burner shape is industry standard domed, a proven design.

A second design choice for Primus was to use solid, rather than folding, pot supports.  While they fold into a flat package on one side of the stove, this DOES mean that the stove doesn’t fold down as small as either the Brunton Raptor or the Snow Peak GS-100A.  Since one of our favorite uses for this type of stove is tucked into our GSI Pinnacle Dualist, that was a concern. Luckily, although it takes some finagling, we were able to make it fit. For the utter minimalist who tries to make overnights in a 2000 cubic inch daypack, the form factor will be an issue. For almost anyone else, it’s nothing  to worry about.

The F1 folds flat just like the Primus, but can also be disassembled into two pieces, allowing it to tuck into a tiny corner of your pack. It’s as small as anything out there.

Similar in some ways, the Coleman ends up taking less pack space than the Primus. (David Shedd photo)

Speaking of minimalists, weight is always an immediate question. The Primus isn’t the lightest or the heaviest micro on the market. At 3.5 ounces, it’s right in the middle of all of the stoves we’ve tested. Of course, we’re talking minor differences among all of them, less than an ounce; we’re not QUITE crazy enough to make our choices based on that alone. The F1, at 3.1 ounces is still one of the lightest available. However, it doesn’t have a piezo ignitor, part of the reason that it’s as small and light as it is.

Getting the rest of the numbers out of the way with…how did the stoves perform in our standard burn test? As always, we tested them at 70F, with 1 liter of 70F water, indoors so there was no wind, and on a fresh MSR canister to get an accurate comparison. We used the pot from the GSI Dualist as a relatively common shape and size that would be used with stoves of this sort.

The Coleman posted a surprisingly strong time, reaching rolling boil in 4:11.  Clearly, even though an older design, it’s still a powerhouse!  The Primus, though, set a new record for us for microstoves at 3:47.  That’s almost getting into the range of the ultra high-tech canister stoves; impressive for an ultralight. As an aside, Coleman for a while made a stove called the F1 Powerboost; an absolute monster of a “microstove” at 5.1 ounces and with a burner nearly 3″ across, it boiled a liter in 3:18. It would have been even faster, but the flame is so large that much of it was lost up the sides of the pot. If you need a canister stove for cooking big pots of pasta for large groups in the backwoods, you may want to look for one of these. At last check, a couple of retailers still had them available.

Empirical numbers, though, don’t tell the whole story. Real-world use isn’t just about how fast you can make the morning cup of coffee (hard as that may be to believe!). Stability is a big factor with any of these stoves, and these two came through with flying colors. The pot supports on the Coleman are rock-solid on the base, and large enough that pots aren’t excessively tippy (obviously, the larger the diameter of the pot, the more this becomes an issue). The supports weren’t slippery, either; the pots sat still, even without ridged bottoms. However, the shape of the supports (relatively flat) caused pots that had developed some warping on the bottom to be VERY unstable.  The Primus, on the other hand, has much larger supports, but there’s more “wiggle” in them and the base; pots definitely feel more wobbly than with the F1. But, as the pots and frying pans got larger, the Primus started to overtake the Coleman, and with our most beat-up cookware, it was dramatically safer.  A small, flat bottomed pot like the Dualist was great on the F1, but going beyond that wouldn’t be something we’d recommend.

The simmer level on the Primus is dramatically lower than on the Coleman, making it ideal for backwoods gourmets. (David Shedd photo)

And then there’s the cooking factor.  The Coleman claims to have a slow simmer. That may be true, depending on your personal definition. By ours, no. It turns down substantially, but isn’t in the league of something like the Brunton Raptor, for instance. If you value slow, even cooking, particularly with a 10″ frypan, the F1 wouldn’t be your choice. The Primus…now, THAT’S a simmer. We were amazed by just how low we could get the flame without it starting to flicker out; and, the burner design seemed to make it less susceptible to being blown out by light winds.  The “hand test” (holding a hand over each at the same height above the burners) confirmed our opinion. We could keep our hands over the Primus for roughly twice as long as the Coleman without becoming uncomfortable. Beyond the low simmer factor, the design choice that Primus made in having a flat, concave burner means that the distance from the flame to the pan is greater without significantly increasing the total stove size; that allows the heat to spread more and heat the pan more evenly on low or high heat. Better for the pan, better for the food, better for the cook, who doesn’t have to stir QUITE as often.

Ultimately, the decision to choose a stove depends on your particular needs.  If minimum size & weight are your triggers, the F1 is still a solid choice and excellent value (street price is often highly discounted from retail), as long as you don’t use large diameter pots. We simply can’t recommend it for that use.  If, however, you value the flexibility of having fast boil times AND superb simmer control, the Primus Express is simply the best all-round canister microstove we’ve tested yet. The tradeoff of slightly more weight and bulk to have the performance, stability, and piezo ignition is, for us hedonists at least, a no-brainer.

Looking elegant for dinner is hard enough; a frypan that doesn't work right can make cooking more miserable than fighting off bugs. (Tim Jones photo)

Ultralight backpacking has a certain joy to it. Minimalist and simple, Ramen noodles from a kettle, little planning needed…pack up and go!

Which, of course, explains why we almost never do it. We’re gear junkies, foodies, wine-in-the-woods lovers. The juxtaposition of a backpacking camp with gourmet level food heightens our enjoyment of both. However, there are some tradeoffs, and one of them is that to make a great meal in the woods usually requires carrying a LOT of weight in cooking gear.

One item that’s always heavy and bulky is a frypan. If you’re going to feed 4 people a great meal, you can’t do it in a tiny pan, and when you’re working with a stove with a small burner, you need a pan that has excellent heat distribution in order to avoid a bunch of food that’s raw with one burnt spot. That means a thick, heavy pan…or does it?

There’s no secret that we’re fans of GSI Outdoors. They’ve always made an innovative range of quality products, from the nesting wine glasses that allow us to be pretentious miles out in the woods, to a tiny pepper grinder that actually works, to the Dualist setup that we use when we actually ARE doing ultralight, minimalist camping. So, when I was looking for a replacement for my big honking heavy 12″ frypan that goes on trips with 4 or more people, it only made sense to see what they had to offer.

Cold night, hot sausages; evenly cooked, thanks to the GSI Pinnacle frypan. (Tim Jones photo)

Unfortunately, that’s harder than it sounds, as GSI has one of the worst search engines ever to exist on a website. Typing in “frying pan” gets nothing. Irritating. But, after a few abortive attempts, I hit on “frypan”…ah, 37 results. That’s more like it. And, it became clear very quickly that the Pinnacle series, the same product group that produced the Dualist, was where we wanted to be. But, after reading the product specs and measuring my old pan, I realized that the 10″ Pinnacle would replace my 12″. It’s much deeper and has a steeper slope to the sides, giving it almost as much internal volume as my old one, while making it both harder to spill from and much more stable on a canister stove.  Out went my order, in came the pan.

Immediately, it was obvious that it’s a quality piece. Solid and rigid, it uses the same “Teflon with Radiance” coating that has been such a hit on their other products; it’s very slippery, very durable, and spreads heat more evenly. We’ve been able to cook quality meals on the other products we’ve tried with that technology, even under highly adverse conditions. The folding handle is solid and stable when opened, and is nice and light; and, like the smaller diameter, helps make the pan even less tippy when put onto a canister microstove. Adding to both its stability and the even heating characteristics is a deeply ridged bottom surface. It keeps the pan from sliding around on the stove, and the grooves both increase the surface area and “catch” the flame, making it more efficient and faster to both heat and cool, allowing more precise cooking.

Sauteeing peppers & onions to start a gourmet breakfast scramble. (Tim Jones photo)

Of course, that’s all in theory; it’s in the field that performance flaws show up. But, in this case, none were to be found.  A trip to pick blueberries in a high mountain meadow meant pancakes for breakfast.  Sheer laziness meant “oh, dump the whole mess in and see what happens!” End result was a 10″ diameter blueberry pancake that was about a half inch thick, almost perfectly evenly brown, and delicious.  (Note to self: A large single pancake doesn’t absorb as much butter and syrup as a bunch of small ones, which is disappointing, if healthy.)

Over the next 5 months, the Pinnacle frypan got used for everything from frying freshly caught trout to boiling pasta to searing venison steaks (and then having EggBeaters thrown into the pan the next morning to take advantage of the pan juices). High temperatures, low temperatures, it didn’t care; it cooked well and evenly. The only negative was that, like pretty much every pan we’ve ever used that wasn’t made of cast iron, it developed a slight doming of the bottom, so whatever you put in there is thinnest in the center where the most heat is. That’s a simple problem to solve, though, by stirring once in a while (or often when the stove’s in blowtorch mode). We seared Chinese potstickers, then added water and simmered them while sitting in Tim’s big tipi with 8 EasternSlopes.com writers at the Hulbert Outdoor Center’s Winter Skills Day; no sticking, and no complaints from the crew! Basically, we did everything we’d do with our sautè pans at home, and the Pinnacle came through with flying colors.

After months of abuse, the Pinnacle releases food and comes clean as easily as when it arrived (Tim Jones photo)

Final analysis, if you’ve got limited space at home for long handled pans, you could do worse than to stick this in your cupboard. For backpacking, it’s a revelation to us; ease of use, safety, and quality results put it head and shoulders above all other frypans we’ve used. Yes, you need to pay attention to not scratching the coating (they claim that Radiance is much tougher than regular Teflon, but that’s like saying brown eggs have harder shells than white; they all still crack), but that’s a small price to pay for the ease of cleanup in camp, and for having your food evenly cooked without sticking. Now I have to get the 8″ to replace my smaller pan…

Snuggled down tight is good, but it can't guarantee you a warm night's sleep when the temperature drops below your bag's rating. (David Shedd photo)

It happens, particularly in the “shoulder seasons” (early spring, late fall). You’re on day 3 of a trip, and suddenly the weather changes. The forecast had been for the 20s at night, and it plunges to 5…and you’ve got a 20 degree bag. Sure, you can survive it…but can you enjoy it?

Actually, based on our experience, you can, and with only minimal planning and gear changes. The first thing is to have a sleeping bag that adapts well to the changes, and in our opinion, that means a bag with a good draft collar; there’s probably no other single factor as important to maximizing efficiency of a sleeping bag. There’s no point in making changes to your clothing and creating extra warmth in the bag, and then having it all come out of the bag every time you move. The EN13537 article discusses our findings, and also how to pick a bag that’s appropriate for you. Once you have the right bag, here’s what we’ve found works.

1.  Carry a lightweight liner/overbag.  Coccoon makes a variety of these; without question, the best warmth/weight/feel combination for backpackers is their silk liner. That one, and other liners, are available at Campmor, as well as other retailers. They pack small and light, and can dramatically improve your bag’s rating. As a bonus, you can use them in summer camping on top of your sleeping bag for really hot nights.

That little blue bag is a silk liner; slide it inside the big fluffy one, and extend its range from 20 degrees to 10! (David Shedd photo)

2.  Wash.  Not your sleeping bag, yourself.  After a day of hiking or snowshoeing, your body is covered with salt from your sweat. Even if you dry off, it’s still there. Salt is hydrophilic; it attracts moisture. As your skin breathes at night, it holds the moisture rather than letting it wick away from you. Moisture, in turn, wicks heat away from your body. A quick rinse off with a wet pack towel in some warm water is all that’s needed; no soap required. Or, if you carry baby wipes for personal hygiene, you can use those. We’re talking a HUGE difference in warmth, as well as getting rid of that clammy icky feeling.

3.  Carry ultralight “sleeping jammies.” We’re talking silks, or imitation silks. A set weighs a few ounces, and gives you something clean to slide into. NO salt inside them from the day (see #2).  If you layer other clothing on top of them, you’ll always have moisture wicking from your body into your outer insulation layers.

A lightweight balaclava, disposable hand/body warmers, and a fleece neck gaiter can dramatically increase your comfort as the mercury drops (David Shedd photo)

4. Disposable handwarmers. When the temperature outside is low, you’re “exothermic”; meaning, your body is releasing heat to the outside. Not exactly what you want! So, put something into your bag that allows you to be endothermic, or absorbing heat. Handwarmers are cheap, light, and have minimal environmental impact. If you’re sort of cold, one by your feet might be enough. If you’re sleeping in a valley and the temperature’s 30 degrees below your bag’s rating, you might have a couple down there and a couple in your core body area. If you don’t have handwarmers, you can warm up a water bottle and stick it down by your feet, but it’s tough to get the heat where you want it with a bottle, as it’s hard and gets in the way.

5.  Fleece neck gaiter. A lot of our thermoregulation comes from the back of our necks. A slight draft there can impact your comfort level, making you feel colder than you actually are. Most of us automatically assume we’ll wear a hat on a cold night; but, with a good hood on your sleeping bag, the hat may not be all that necessary. Even with a good hood, though, there’s likely to be a little cold air leaking in around your neck…cover up! Another all-in-one solution is a balaclava. Ultralight versions are easily available.

6. Your “puffy”. When we’re in cold season, the puffy is automatically part of our gear, and it’s a great choice to wear inside your bag. Unlike a lot of insulation layers, the puffy contracts and expands to fill space, making it more comfortable AND more efficient.

7. Eat and drink. One of the biggest mistakes people make is to not drink enough. Who wants to get up in the middle of the night to pee? But, your body’s thermal processes work best when you’re fully hydrated. So, better to have to get up and shiver for a few minutes than to shiver all night long (Bonus: unexpected cold usually comes from “radiational cooling”; in other words, clear nights with no wind where all the heat heads to the stars.  The view of the heavens during that midnight rest stop can be priceless!) Before you go to bed, and when you get up, drink a little more and eat something…a handful of gorp, or peanut M&Ms, fuels your furnace and tells your body to go ahead and let your metabolism have a party.

8. Breathe OUTSIDE your bag.  No matter how tempting it is, particularly when you first get into a chilly bag, DON’T tuck your head inside and try to recycle your warm breath. There’s a ton of moisture in your breath (that’s what you see when it’s cold), and as the night goes on, you’ll pay for a few minutes of early warmth. If you’re so cold that your face is freezing, try tucking a bandana into the remaining opening and breathing through that. It’ll hold some warmth, but let a lot of the moisture out.

If you take everything recommended here, you MIGHT raise your pack weight by a whole pound, and a good night’s sleep is worth a whole lot more than that. Half of the battle is being prepared. The other half is to admit that you’re getting cold and do something about it. I woke up cold around midnight the other night, as I hadn’t washed up and was feeling clammy.  I wanted to stay in bed, but I knew that if I did, I’d be miserable all night. Instead, I toughed it out for  5 minutes of chill as I washed up. Then, I dropped off to sleep again quickly and spent the night warm, comfortable and happy. Take pride in enjoying your trip, not in suffering, and you’ll find you’re happy to spend a lot more time in the woods!

Something old, something new; Wenger continues its tradition of excellence (David Shedd photo)

About 30 years ago, I headed off to Spain to study, carrying with me one important accessory…a Swiss Army knife.  With a corkscrew.  Vital to a proper education, of course.  Since then, I’ve had a string of Swiss Army knives of various types, and virtually never spend a day without one (no, not ALL of them have corkscrews).

How does that relate to a boot review?  Simple…a significant number of those knives have been made by Wenger (Victorinox, of course, being the other manufacturer; in a bizarre corporate world twist, they actually own Wenger at this point, having acquired them in 2005).  And, my “wet day” outdoors watch for a decade or so has been a Wenger with a rubber wristband; I’ve abused it in many ways, and all it ever asks in return is a battery every year or two.  Quality has always been an automatic with Wenger products.

 But, there’s a big difference between hardgoods and softgoods.  Knives have pivots; easy enough to make those work.  Harder to make a seam that holds up and flexes well with the foot, or to design a heel pocket that works for my skinny one and someone else’s thick one.  Would Wenger’s Canyoneer boots ($120) show the same quality as the other items of theirs that we’ve used?

Fashionable enough to wear out on the town with your classic Pendleton wool, the Canyoneer is a serious boot (David Shedd photo)

The answer, it turns out, is an unqualified yes.  The boots were a “wow” from the moment I took them out of the box.  Physically, they’re a beautiful boot to look at; very stylish, with a soft leather in a sort of cocoa brown color that looks more like it was designed for the runway in Milan than for beating around in the woods.  I remember buying a pair of boots 25 years ago from a manufacturer not to be named that looked serious and rugged and were definitely designed to make men LOOK like rugged outdoorsmen as they wandered around New York City; in the woods, they had rotten soles and no support for a backpack.  The Canyoneers had a bit of that look to them, which was reinforced by the fact that for a full-leather boot, they’re almost ridiculously light.  At 2 lbs, 8 oz. for the pair, they’re nearly as light as my ultralight nylon hikers; that’s an accomplishment.   But, make a boot too light, and it won’t work right.  Beyond the leather, the rest of the boot has nice details;  impeccable stitching, very chic lacing eyelets with the Swiss cross on them, a couple of red Swiss Army logos to catch the eye.  Stylish and light…very nice.

Fine stitching and attention to detail make for a lovely, effective boot (David Shedd photo)

However, looks and weight are wonderful, but they don’t mean a thing if the boots don’t perform in other ways; comfort, support, waterproofness, and traction all trump the other characteristics.  On to the real testing!

The easiest of those to determine was, of course, comfort; put ‘em on!  And, it was like putting slippers on.  We had several people with different foot shapes try them on, and all were amazed at how good they felt.   Wenger’s done a brilliant job of creating a last that fits different foot types.  Sizing of the boots is on the large size; I’m a 10 1/2, and their 10 was plenty big for me, so they’d be a good match for a medium to large volume foot.  But, even with some extra room in there, the shaft held my heel and ankle firmly in place, and I felt totally confident on sidehills.  Adding in a thin midsole made them fit like a glove with a midweight wool sock.  I wore them day after day, often for 9 hours or more, and was only aware of them when I bothered to think about them; the fit was such that I just didn’t notice anything, an ideal situation.  The only other boot I’ve ever used that “disappears” as well on my foot is the LL Bean Gore-Tex Cresta, and that’s in a different price category.

Support…yes, this concerned me.  A leather boot that’s this light has to give SOMETHING up, and support is the most likely thing.  Wrong.  No, they’re not the Crestas; while I haven’t tried carrying 75 pounds with them, I’m relatively sure I wouldn’t want to, either.  However, multiple long days with 30+ pounds left me not footsore in the slightest, and I wouldn’t hesitate to try them with heavier loads.  For a lightweight boot, that’s a real accomplishment. 

Waterproofing is another big issue; an awful lot of the so-called “waterproof/breathable” boots we’ve tried are neither.  The Canyoneers use an unusual material called OutDry, which is a membrane that is directly laminated to the backside of the leather.  Conceptually, there are several advantages to that over the more typical “bootie” construction (where a bootie with the laminate is inserted into the boot).  First, it’ll be lighter; no wasted material, and the boot itself can be smaller because no room has to be left for the bootie.  Second, by having no space between the leather and the laminate, less water can pool in that area and add weight.  And,  finally, fit should be better; no possibility of the bootie shifting, bunching, any of that.  But, concept and reality don’t always match up.  So, time to find good abuse, which came in the form of three long days hiking in wet snow; the leather was soaked immediately (more on that later).  However, at no point did any water enter the boots, period.  I even spent some time walking in several inches of water in a lake (don’t ask), with the same results.  Beyond that, though, the breathability was outstanding.  Indoors, outdoors, it didn’t matter; my feet never felt clammy.  Compared to my reference Crestas, they were definitely of the same caliber.

Wiggle the inner logs of the Canyoneer's sole, and you'll find that the HYPERGrip "articulation" is anything BUT hype (David Shedd photo)

And that left traction as the remaining concern.  The Canyoneers use a highly unusual outsole called HYPERGrip, which starts with a proprietary compound that, according to them, combines high abrasion resistance with great traction.  In addition, according to Wenger, the lugs move independently from the sole, increasing grip.  Hmm.  Sounds like gobbledygook for “soft rubber compound”, until you turn the boots over and wiggle the lugs…and the center lugs DO move independently of the sole, while the lugs to the edges are firmly attached.  In use, it’s a great combination.  As you walk on uneven terrain, the lugs move and conform, allowing the footbed to remain level and comfortable underfoot.  However, the fixed lugs around the edge of the sole stay firm and stable when I’m trying to get grip on a sidehill; a too-soft sole wouldn’t allow me to dig in the way I need to.  The same thing happens when going straight down steep sections; the heel digs in and grabs, and as I roll forward, the lugs conform to whatever is underfoot, creating grip instead of sliding over it.  It’s a very different feeling from any other boot I’ve tried, and it’s a good one; they feel confident and safe in conditions that would stress any boot.

The only significant concern that I had was that the leather itself soaks through immediately on contact with any water.  Now, it’s nice that the OutDry works in those conditions, but still…generally, leather lasts longer if it’s not constantly getting soaked and drying.   Unfortunately, the Canyoneers don’t come with any instructions for care of the leather, and Wenger’s site isn’t any more helpful.  That left me on my own to find a solution that would protect the leather but not compromise the breathability.  I’ve had great experience with Granger’s products, so decided to try their G-Max Universal Footwear Waterproofer (that’s a mouthful!).  They claim that it maintains breathability on any material…okay, worth a try.  Wash the boot off, spray it on, let it dry; boot looks the same, no stains or darkening.  Good…and water beads up and rolls off.  Good #2.  But, breathability?  A full day running around in the boots left me with  no clamminess, no sense that there was any loss of breathability.  At this point, I can’t think of any reason NOT to treat the Canyoneers with it.

After several weeks of beating the Canyoneers around in the backcountry, the leather shows some small nicks and scrapes.  That’s not a great surprise; the leather is soft and pliable.  Clearly, these are a boot designed more for trails than for backcountry or mountaineering.  Used  under those conditions, I don’t see any issues with the softer leather, or with the lack of a significant toe cap/rand; durability should be excellent, given the quality of construction, although we obviously won’t know that for a while.  Plus, Wenger provides a 3 year warranty…they’re used to their customers expecting a long-lived, high quality product.

Bottom line:  the Canyoneers are an impeccably manufactured, well thought-out lightweight hiker that performs way above expectations.  Quality and features, for the price, are hard or impossible to beat; we’ve never seen a boot for the price that we felt was better than this one.   After trying them, one of our testers went out and ordered a pair for herself; that’s how strong an impression they’ve made on us!