CLOTHING IS A LITTLE MATTER. THE TRICK IS TO WEAR AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE WITHOUT BECOMING EVEN A FRACTION TOO HOT OR TOO COLD.
—Journey Through Britain, John Hillaby
When the clouds roll in, the wind picks up, and the first raindrops fall, your clothing should protect you from the storm. If it doesn’t, you may have to make camp early, crawling soggily into your tent and staying there until the skies clear. At the worst, you could find yourself in danger from hypothermia. Besides keeping you warm when it’s cold and dry when it’s wet, clothing should also keep you cool when the sun shines. In other words, clothing should keep you comfortable regardless of the weather. Choosing lightweight, low-bulk clothing that does all this requires care. Before looking at clothing in detail, I’ll try to give some understanding of how the body works when exercising and what bearing this has on clothes.
The human body evolved to deal with a tropical climate, and it ceases to function if its temperature falls more than a couple of degrees below 98.4°F (37°C) or rises more than a couple of degrees above that. In cool climates, the body needs a covering to maintain that temperature, because the heat it produces is lost to the cooler air. Ideally, clothing should allow a balance between heat loss and heat production, so that we feel neither hot nor cold. It’s hard to maintain this balance when we alternate sitting still with varying degrees of activity in a range of air temperatures and conditions: when we’re active, the body pumps out heat and moisture, which has to be dispersed; when we’re stationary, it stops doing so.
Hiking in a synthetic-insulated top, fleece-lined cap, and gloves on a cold, windy fall day in the North Cascades.
The body loses heat in four ways, which determine how clothing has to function to keep its temperature in equilibrium:
Convection, the transfer of heat from the body to the air, is the major cause of heat loss. It occurs whenever the air is cooler than the body, which is most of the time. The rate of heat loss increases in proportion to air motion—once air begins to move over the skin (and through your clothing), it can whip body warmth away at an amazing rate. To prevent this, clothing must cut out the flow of air over the skin; that is, it must be windproof.
Conduction is the transfer of heat from one surface to another. All materials conduct heat, some better than others. Air conducts heat poorly, so the best protection against conductive heat loss is clothing that traps and holds air in its fibers. Indeed, the trapped air is what keeps you warm; the fabrics just hold it in place. Water, however, is a good heat conductor, so if your clothing is wet, you will cool down rapidly. This means that clothing has to keep out rain and snow, which isn’t difficult—the problem is that clothing must also transmit perspiration to the outer air to keep you dry, known as breathability, or moisture vapor transmission (MVT).
Evaporation occurs when body moisture is transformed into vapor—a process that requires heat. During vigorous exercise, the body can perspire as much as a quart of liquid an hour. Clothing must transport it away quickly so that it doesn’t use up body heat. Wearing garments that can be ventilated easily, especially at the neck, is important, as is wearing breathable materials that water vapor can pass through.
Radiation is the passing of heat directly between two objects without warming the intervening space. This is the way the sun heats the earth (and us on hot, clear days). Radiation requires a direct pathway, so wearing clothes—especially clothing that is tightly woven and smooth-surfaced—mostly blocks it. Very little heat is lost by radiation anyway. Reflective radiant barriers built into clothing really don’t make any difference.
As if keeping out rain, expelling sweat, trapping heat, and preventing the body from overheating weren’t enough, clothing for walkers must also be light, durable, low in bulk, quick drying, easy to care for, and able to cope with a wide variety of weather conditions. The usual solution is to wear several light layers of clothing on the torso (legs require less protection), which can be adjusted to suit weather conditions and activity. The layer system is versatile and efficient if used properly, which means constantly opening and closing zippers and fastenings and removing or adding layers. In severe conditions I also use layers on my legs, hands, and head in severre conditions.
A simple layering system consists of an inner layer of thin wicking material that removes moisture from the skin, a thicker midlayer to trap air and provide insulation, and a waterproof-breathable outer shell to keep out wind and rain while allowing perspiration to pass through. This neat three-layer system won’t cope with a wide range of conditions, however. Additional layers could include one or two more midlayers such as a wind shell or soft shell and a thick, insulated garment for camp and rest stops in cold weather. I often carry six layers—a thin base layer, two thin midlayers, wind shell, rain shell, and insulated top (see the trip sidebars in Chapter 2 for lists of clothing I’ve carried on actual trips). Several thin layers are more versatile than one thick one, which is either on or off, often leaving you either too hot or too cold. The boundaries of the different layers have always been a little fuzzy—thick inner layers can be used as midlayers, and windproof midlayers are also outer shells when it’s not raining—and this is getting fuzzier with garments claimed to function as all three layers. But nothing beats the versatility of having separate garments that you can combine differently according to the conditions.
Dressed for cold, stormy weather in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. Warm, waterproof hat, fleece-lined waterproof gloves, and waterproof-breathable shell jacket over windproof jacket and lightweight fleece top.
A base-layer top may be adequate on its own in warm weather. Add a thin fleece when the temperature drops. Wicking long underwear can be worn under trail pants in cold weather.
Clothing for wet, windy weather.
Hot-weather wear.
How much clothing you plan to take on a particular hike depends on the conditions you expect. I take enough to keep me comfortable in the worst likely weather. If I’m in doubt as to what is enough, I sometimes take a light insulated vest just in case.
I don’t carry clothing that can’t all be worn together if necessary. If it’s cold, I want to be able to wear everything. The only spare items I carry are underpants and socks.
Although it’s sometimes described as “thermal” underwear, the main purpose of the inner layer (also known as the next-to-skin or base layer) is to keep the skin dry rather than warm—often called moisture management. If perspiration is removed quickly from the skin’s surface, your outer layers keep you warm more easily. If the layer of clothing next to your skin becomes saturated and dries slowly, your other clothes, however good, have a hard time keeping you warm. No fabric, whatever the claims made for it, is warm when wet.
While you’re on the move, as long as your outer layer keeps out rain and wind and your midlayer provides enough warmth, you generate heat and stay warm even if your inner layer is damp. But once you stop, wet undergarments will chill you rapidly, especially if you’ve been exercising hard and producing a great deal of moisture. After a climb to a pass or a summit, you often want to stop, both for a rest and to enjoy the view you’ve worked so hard to reach. Once you stop, however, your heat output drops rapidly, just when you need that heat to dry out your damp base layer. But that damp base layer conducts heat away from the body, producing after-exercise chill. The wetter and slower drying your clothing, the longer such chill lasts and the colder and more uncomfortable you’ll be. Thus the inner and outer layers are important because they can minimize after-exercise chill by wicking moisture away from the skin and stopping rain from soaking your clothing; what goes on between these layers matters less, and this is where compromises can be made.
The one inner material to avoid is cotton, since it absorbs moisture quickly and in great quantities. It also takes a long time to dry, using up a massive amount of body heat. To make matters worse, damp cotton clings to the skin, preventing a layer of insulating air from forming. I haven’t worn cotton next to my skin for years—not even on trips in sunny weather when some people like light cotton or cotton-blend garments because they’re cooling when damp. I find thin synthetics or wool more comfortable than cotton in the heat, and I don’t need to change my top if the weather turns damp or cold.
Base-layer fabrics remove body moisture by transporting or wicking it away from the skin. Synthetic fibers are hydrophobic—they repel moisture—and tend to wick quickly. Natural fibers like wool and silk are hydrophilic—water loving—and absorb moisture into their fibers before passing it more slowly to the outside.
Synthetics can wick moisture by being nonabsorbent and having an open weave through which the moisture quickly passes, and having hydrophilic (water-attracting) outer surfaces that “pull” moisture through the fabric and away from the skin. In both cases, body heat pushes the moisture through the fabric.
Although synthetic wicking fabrics are very good, they can become overloaded with sweat and end up very damp on the inside. An important factor is the time they take to dry when you’re not producing enough body heat to push the moisture through the fabric. The best are those with brushed or raised fluffy inner surfaces that have a minimum of material in contact with the skin, letting it dry quickly. If the inner surface is smooth and tightly woven, moisture passes through it more slowly. Oddly, both tightly woven and open-weave outer surfaces can speed moisture movement. In the first case moisture can spread out over the surface of the fabric and evaporate or pass into the next layer; in the second case the open weave allows moisture to pass through very quickly. Fabrics with different materials on the inside and outside are known as bicomponent fabrics. Examples include Polartec Power Stretch, Polartec Power Dry, and Páramo Parameta S.
Most fabrics come in several weights. The lightest—sometimes called silkweight—are very thin and fast wicking, ideal for aerobic pursuits such as trail running but also good for backpacking, either on their own in the heat or under other layers in cold weather. Midweight underwear is slightly heavier and thicker and usually has a tighter weave. It’s warmer but often wicks more slowly, which is fine in cool weather. The heaviest and thickest fabrics are labeled expedition or winter weight. Most of these don’t wick moisture or dry as fast as the lighter fabrics and are better suited for midlayers. A few, like Power Stretch and Parameta S, wick as well as or better than thin fabrics.
Designs are usually simple; most tops come with either a crewneck or a turtleneck with a zipper, buttons, or snaps at the neck. You can get short or long sleeves; I prefer short-sleeved crewneck T-shirts for warm weather and long-sleeved zippered turtlenecks for colder weather. The latter are good as midlayers too. Close-fitting garments are much more efficient than baggy ones. My partner, hiker Denise Thorn, says she didn’t realize how effective base layers could be until she wore women’s styles that fitted properly rather than loose “unisex” tops. Most makers now offer women’s and men’s base layers, while some companies like Wild Roses (now called OR Women) and Isis make only women’s clothing. There are also bras made from wicking fabrics.
Figure-hugging “tights” are the norm for long underpants. Underpants made from wicking synthetics are far superior to cotton. Close-fitting garments help trap air and wick moisture quickly and also fit easily under other garments. Long pants should have a particularly snug fit to avoid the discomfort of baggy long johns sagging down inside other layers; elasticized waists are essential. Long backs stop tops from riding up at the waist. Stretchy fabrics often wick fastest because of their close fit. They’re generally more comfortable, too. Seams should be flat sewn to avoid rubbing and abrasion. Dark colors show dirt and stains less, but white or pale colors reflect heat better when worn alone in warm weather.
Choosing a wicking synthetic fabric can seem hard because there are so many, each with a fancy name and claiming to work better than the others. Actually there are only a few base fabrics, and they’re all derived from petrochemicals. Polypropylene was the original fiber used, but most base layers are now made from polyester. Other fibers like chlorofiber, acrylic, and nylon have just about disappeared.
Synthetic base layers are notorious for smelling bad, sometimes after only brief use. Ironically, the hydrophobic properties that make them effective at wicking moisture are the main reason for this. Your body moisture contains oils that stick to the fabric as the liquid evaporates or moves into your next clothing layer. These oils attract bacteria and can also undergo oxidation, both leading to nasty smells. Like the fabric, the oils are hydrophobic. Washing in cool water doesn’t remove them. Hot water does, but not all fabrics can be washed in hot water without shrinking, making it hard to get the smell out. Hanging clothes in the sun and wind can help, as can repeated washing in plenty of detergent and soaking in cold water with a little dissolved soap. It’s best, though, to choose garments that can be washed and dried at hot temperatures. This is also useful for long hikes when you want to chuck all your dirty clothes into a washer and dryer at town stops without worrying about the temperature.
Many fabrics have antimicrobial treatments. Most work a little but don’t stop garments from smelling for very long. Fibers such as X-Static that contain silver—a natural antimicrobial that contains no chemicals and is safe next to the skin—work best. Odor Resistant Polartec Power Dry contains silver fibers. Silver can’t wear out or be washed out, so it lasts the life of the garment. It’s said to remove 99 percent of bacteria in an hour and to work best in warm, humid environments. To test this, I wore an X-Static top for chopping firewood, day hikes, and cycle rides as well as backpacking trips. After two weeks’ wear, my unwashed top smelled faintly musty, but nothing worse. My family didn’t tell me to change it and take a shower. Synthetics incorporating silver fibers seem to be the answer to stinky synthetic underwear.
POLYPROPYLENE “Polypro” is the lightest and thinnest wicking synthetic. Introduced by Helly Hansen in its Lifa line back in the 1970s, it dominated the market for a while but is now found mostly in budget garments. Polypro won’t absorb moisture but quickly passes it along its fibers and into the air or the next layer. It wicks away sweat and dries so fast that after-exercise chill is negligible. However, it’s the worst synthetic fabric for stinking, producing a stench that can be hard to get rid of. Apart from the odor, if you don’t wash it at least every couple of days, polypro ceases to wick properly, leaving your skin clammy and cold. On long trips you have to carry several garments or rinse one out regularly and learn to live with the smell of stale sweat.
Polypro’s drawbacks are mostly overcome in Helly Hansen’s Lifa range. Helly’s polypro has a softer, less “plastic” feel than standard polypro, and it can be washed at 140°F (60°C), a heat that rids it of the noxious aroma. It’s also said to be resistant to the bacteria that cause smells. Lifa polypro comes in three types: thin, stretchy Lifa Sport; midweight Lifa Active; and Prowool, which has an outer layer of merino wool. I’ve worn a Lifa Sport crewneck top for several days without washing it, and though it smells faintly musty, I can bear to have it in the tent, something I wouldn’t do with the old polypro after even one day’s wear. It wicks moisture efficiently and, I suspect, faster than standard polypro. My crewneck Lifa Sport top weighs 5 ounces; my bottoms, which I mostly carry for campwear or unexpected cold weather, weigh 3.75 ounces.
POLYESTER Polyester repels water but has a low wicking ability—not ideal for underwear, since sweat just stays on the skin. However, it can be treated with chemicals or mechanically altered so that it becomes hydrophilic, resulting in moisture being drawn through the material to the outer surface, where it spreads out and quickly dries. The drawback is that after repeated washings chemical treatments wear off, though this isn’t the problem it once was. When this happens the material stops wicking.
There are many wicking polyester fabrics. Some are proprietary like Patagonia’s Capilene, GoLite’s C-Thru, REI’s MTS, and Lowe Alpine’s DryFlow. Others, like Polartec Power Dry, CoolMax, Thermolite Base, and Akwatek, are used by many companies, though they may appear under names like Marmot’s DriClime, which is Power Dry. Over the years I’ve tried many polyester base layers and concluded that they all work pretty well and there’s not much difference between them.
Of the expedition-weight polyester fabrics I’ve used, two stand out. Polartec Power Stretch and Páramo Parameta S both wick moisture faster than any other materials of similar weight and better than many lighter-weight fabrics. Both materials have soft, brushed inner surfaces that wick moisture rapidly and smooth, tightly woven outers that spread the moisture so it evaporates quickly. Power Stretch is used by many companies; my zip-neck top and tights are made by Lowe Alpine and weigh 10 and 7 ounces, respectively—less than some expedition-weight fabrics that aren’t as warm or as efficient at removing moisture. As the name suggests, the fabric is very stretchy and hugs the body. Parameta S doesn’t stretch and is exclusive to Páramo. I have the Trail Shirt, a conventional design with a collar, two chest pockets, and a snap-fastened front. It weighs 14 ounces. All Parameta S and some Power Stretch garments (such as Mountain Hardwear’s Zip T) can be reversed so the smooth side is on the inside. This is meant to make them cooler and thus increase the temperature range over which the garment is comfortable. It works to some extent, but I still find the Trail Shirt a bit warm in hot weather. I’ve had my Power Stretch and Parameta S garments for many years, and they’ve proved very durable. I now mostly wear them as midlayers.
Weights for base-layer tops and bottoms range from 3 ounces in light garments to 14 ounces for expedition-weight ones. Briefs start at about 2 ounces.
WOOL Wool, the traditional material for outdoor underwear, has had a remarkable revival and is now regarded by many as the best choice for base layers. I tend to agree. Though it might seem that wool wouldn’t fit into a layering system with high-tech synthetics, it does. Wool is excellent at drawing moisture into its fibers and leaving a dry surface against the skin. It can absorb up to 30 percent of its weight before it feels wet and cold, so after-exercise chill is not usually a problem. I’ve worn wool next to my skin on many winter ski tours and have always felt warm, even in camp after an energetic day. On those tours I’ve also worn the same top for two weeks with no odor problem. Because wool is hydrophilic and absorbent, body oils go into the fibers rather than staying on the surface and attracting the bacteria that cause smells. Wool’s limitations used to be its warmth, which made it useful only for cold weather, and the need for careful washing, often by hand. Now, however, there are very fine tops that work well in the heat and that can be machine-washed without shrinking. Wool does stretch slightly, though it usually regains its shape when washed. It is pretty durable, too.
What puts many people off wool is its reputation for being itchy. Old-style wool with coarse fibers could irritate the skin, though fine knits have always been available. When I began backpacking I wore a thin lambswool sweater I bought from a department store as my base layer in cold weather. I don’t remember it’s being itchy. The best wool base layers are made from fine, soft merino wool, which feels luxurious next to the skin, far more comfortable than any synthetic I’ve ever worn. SmartWool began the return to wool with its merino garments. Many others have followed as people learn just how wonderful wool is to wear, but of the garments I’ve tried, SmartWool still has the edge on softness and comfort. As a final plus, wool is a good material to wear around fires, since it doesn’t burn easily or melt like synthetics, making it much safer and less liable to be damaged by sparks.
Wool is also relatively light; I have an Icebreaker long-sleeved crewneck merino wool top that weighs 7 ounces and a SmartWool Aero short-sleeved merino wool T-shirt that weighs 6 ounces, only a little more than equivalent synthetic ones. Both are light and cool enough for warm weather. Thicker, warmer garments weigh more, of course. My SmartWool Traditional Long Sleeve Crew and Traditional Relaxed Tights weigh 12 ounces and 9 ounces, respectively. These are warm garments, however. I wear them only when I expect temperatures to be below freezing. The top makes a good midlayer. Terramar has some good merino wool base layers, too. Its long-sleeved crew weighs 10.5 ounces. Terramar also makes polyester-wool mix and polyester-wool-Outlast acrylic garments (for my opinion on Outlast, see page 75). Wool-synthetic garments work quite well in my experience, though they’re not quite as comfortable as pure wool. Ibex also has a good reputation for its wool base layers (and other wool clothing), though I haven’t tried any of it, and Arc’teryx has a new line of merino wool base layers.
SILK Silk is the other natural material used in outdoor underwear. Like wool, it can absorb up to 30 percent of its own weight before it feels damp. Silk’s best attribute, however, is its luxurious texture; it’s light, too—a long-sleeved top weighs 3 to 4 ounces. A silk top I wore on a two-week hike in damp, cool weather kept me warm and dry, and at the end the odor was negligible. It was badly stained with sweat and dirt, though. When I rested after strenuous exercise, the top felt clammy for a few minutes, but then it warmed up. I probably won’t take silk on a long hike again, though, because it demands special care; it has to be hand washed and dried flat, and it won’t dry overnight in camp unless the air is very warm. Among those offering silk garments are Terramar, SilkSkins, and REI.
Cotton or cotton-synthetic shirts have always been popular for warm weather, though I find a light wool or synthetic top better because it gets less clammy and dries more quickly. And if the weather turns cold or wet, a noncotton top doesn’t get cold and uncomfortable under other layers.
However, there are now a large number of synthetic shirts designed specifically for hiking in warm weather. Most are traditional in style, with collars, snap or button closures, and breast pockets. The fabrics feel nice against the skin, wick a little, though not as well as wicking base layers, and dry quickly. A loose fit is more comfortable than a close one, since it allows moisture to disperse and cool air to move inside the shirt. Unlike most base layers, these shirts resist light winds. I now wear one on any trip where I expect it to be sunny and warm much of the time. I particularly like shirts with large pockets, in which I carry maps, a notebook and pens, binoculars, a whistle, a compass, and other items. Long sleeves are more versatile: roll them up in the heat, roll them down when it’s cool or you want to keep the sun off your arms. Most shirts have buttoned tabs to keep the sleeves from falling down when rolled up. If the weather is a little too chilly for the shirt alone, I wear it over a base layer.
My favorite is the Mountain Hardwear Canyon, which is made from soft Supplex nylon and has one zipped pocket and one vertical Velcro-closed pocket. There are mesh ventilation panels under the arms and down the sides plus mesh across the back and stretch panels in the shoulders, though I can’t say the shoulder panels make much difference. The collar has an extra panel at the back, so when turned up it really protects your neck from the sun. The Canyon weighs 10 ounces. As shirts go it’s expensive, but it has proved durable, though it’s somewhat stained from sweat and dye that has leached out of pack harnesses. You could of course just wear a nylon or polyester casual shirt, as a few people I know do. These are much less expensive and don’t have all the features, but they seem to work well in the heat, though they can get a little sweaty.
A shirt I’ve had for many years that does better duty than most shirts of this type as a base layer in the cold and wet is Sequel’s Solar Shirt, which has a wicking mesh body and, in current models, a nylon-polyester-cotton mix yoke. My original version has a CoolMax yoke, and I do wonder if the new mix will wick quite as well. The big advantage, though, is that it’s a firmer fabric, so there’s a stand-up collar and two breast pockets that look as though they’d be more comfortable with stuff in them than the soft mesh ones on my version. The Solar Shirt is a pullover design with a deep front opening. Mine is the long-sleeved version and weighs 8 ounces; current models are listed as 9.6 ounces. I first wore my shirt for a two-week hike in the Grand Canyon and found it superb in the heat; it never felt sticky or clammy, and it dried very quickly. At the end of this late-fall trip, the weather turned cold and windy, with frequent rain and hail; despite its accumulation of ten days’ sweat, dust, and sunscreen, the Solar Shirt performed well as a base layer under a microfleece top and light rain jacket.
An unusual development is W. L. Gore’s Wind-stopper N2S fabric. The N2S stands for “next to skin,” yet this is a windproof fabric, since it contains a Windstopper membrane. Gore says that N2S can function as a wicking base layer, a light insulating layer, and a windproof and showerproof shell. The membrane is sandwiched between two thin, soft layers, and garments feel flexible and comfortable. I’ve tried two garments, the Mountain Hardwear Transition (11 ounces) and the Marmot Evolution (11.5 ounces), both pullover designs with high collars and deep front zippers. (A lighter one is the GoLite Stealth Wind Shirt, at 9 ounces.) However, the Evolution has Power Stretch panels down the sides, while the Transition is 100 percent N2S. Both garments are stretchy, comfortable to wear, and windproof, and they wick moisture well. But I found they are comfortable on their own only over a narrow temperature range. If it’s above 50°F (10°C), I am too warm and start to feel sweaty unless there’s a very strong wind. If it’s below 40°F (5°C), I start feeling chilly unless it’s calm. This is not very versatile. The garments also smell a fair bit after a day’s wear—I hate to think what they’d be like after a week. Once I’d discovered the performance limits for me, I started wearing the N2S tops as midlayers and found them far more functional and far less smelly. I think keeping the windproof and base layers separate is more practical, but if you want windproof underwear, it does exist.
The midlayer keeps you warm by trapping air in its fibers. It also has to deal with body moisture that has passed through the inner layer, so it needs to let that moisture through or else absorb it without losing much warmth. Some midlayer garments are windproof and will resist a fair degree of rain, but they’re not a substitute for a rain jacket in a real downpour.
Midlayer clothing can be divided into two types: trailwear and rest wear or campwear. The first category includes wool tops, light- and medium-weight fleece, soft shells, and wind shells. In warm weather, one or two of these garments may be all you need for campwear as well. Mostly though, I carry a down- or synthetic-filled top or a thick fleece top to keep me warm when stationary. Of course you can wear these while hiking if necessary.
Midlayers come in every imaginable style of shirts, sweaters, smocks, vests, and jackets. Garments that open down the front at least partway are easier to ventilate than polo or crewneck styles—and ventilation is the best way to get rid of excess heat and prevent clothing from becoming damp with sweat. Far more water vapor can escape through an open neck than can wick through the fabric. Conversely, high collars keep your neck warm and hold in heat. I used to avoid pullover designs for fear I’d overheat, but as long as I can open up the top 8 or 10 inches, I’ve found I can cool off when necessary. Pullovers tend to weigh less than jacket styles, so I now use them regularly.
The traditional midlayer fabrics are wool and cotton, though they aren’t so popular anymore. With cotton, this is for good reasons: it’s heavy for the warmth provided, soaks up moisture, and is slow to dry. Many years ago I wore a thick brushed cotton (chamois) shirt on a two-week hike to remind myself how cotton shirts perform. Worn over a silk inner layer, it was comfortable and warm; worn under a waterproof-breathable shell, it never became more than slightly damp, despite wet and windy weather. I suspect that this was partly because the silk inner layer took up much of my sweat and the cotton shirt might have become damper with a synthetic inner layer. The performance then was OK, but the shirt weighed 17.5 ounces, more than twice the weight of a fleece top of equivalent warmth, and was bulky when packed. I’ve never hiked in a heavy cotton shirt since. I hadn’t worn wool in many years either, not since discovering fleece more than two decades ago, but recently I have used the 12-ounce SmartWool Traditional Crew as a sweater and found that it works very well, though it’s heavier than fleece of equal warmth. SmartWool and Ibex both make wool sweaters, cardigans, jackets, and vests that look good and should be functional alternatives to synthetic garments. And of course if you have some wool sweaters in your closet, they should do fine. The traditional wool shirt in check, plaid, or tartan is still around too, from traditional companies like Woolrich and Pendleton. I have an ancient one I used to hike in back in the 1970s. It weighs 15 ounces, which makes it heavy for the warmth compared with fleece.
Cotton and wool shirts and sweaters mostly disappeared from the backcountry with the advent of fleece, for many years now the standard fabric for warm garments. Fleece insulates well, moves moisture quickly, and is light, hardwearing, almost non-absorbent, and quick drying. These properties make fleece ideal for outdoor clothing. Most fleece is made from polyester, though you may find nylon, polypropylene, and acrylic versions.
Fleece, or pile as it used to be called, was first used in clothing by Helly Hansen and tested in Norway’s wet, cold climate, for which it proved ideal. In North America it became popular after Malden Mills made a smoother version called Polarfleece for Patagonia in 1979. In 1983 this was replaced by the first of the Polartec fleeces, introduced by Patagonia as Synchilla, and the takeover of outdoor warm clothing by fleece was under way. There are other manufacturers of fleece, including Dyersburg and Draper, but in my opinion Malden Mills still leads the way.
Fleece isn’t just one fabric, of course; it comes in a wide variety of weights and finishes. The more loosely knit, thicker, furrier fabrics are sometimes called pile; fleece is often reserved for denser fabrics with a smoother finish. But makers use both terms for the same fabrics, so they are in effect interchangeable. Malden Mills grades its classic Polartec fleece fabrics as 100, 200, and 300 weight, and other makers have similar weights. The higher the number, the warmer and thicker the fleece. Not all fleece fits easily into this system, but it is a useful guide.
Worn over a wicking inner layer and under a waterproof-breathable shell, fleece can keep you warm in just about any weather while you are on the move and is particularly effective in wet, cold conditions. Fleece moves moisture quickly: at the end of a wet, windy day, I’ve often found that the outside of my fleece top is damp from condensation inside my rain jacket but the inside is dry. If you feel cold, nothing will warm you up as fast as a dry, fluffy fleece top next to your skin.
Of course, fleece has drawbacks, albeit minor ones. It’s not windproof—you can easily blow through it—which means you need a windproof layer over it even in a cool breeze. Although this is a disadvantage at times, the lack of wind resistance means that garments are very breathable and comfortable over a wide temperature range—without a shell when it’s warm or calm, with one when it’s cold or windy. There is windproof fleece clothing (see pages 143–44), but it’s heavier, bulkier, and less breathable than ordinary fleece. Another drawback is that fleece clothing doesn’t compress well, so it takes up more room in the pack.
Fleece garments should be fairly close-fitting to trap warm air efficiently. They are prone to the bellows effect—cold air is sucked in at the bottom of the garment, replacing warm air—so the hem should be elasticized, have a drawcord, or be designed to tuck into your pants. Cuffs and collars keep warmth in best if they fit closely. A high collar helps keep your neck warm and stops warm air from escaping.
Most fleece garments are hip length, which is just about right to keep them from riding up under your pack hipbelt. Pockets are useful, especially hand-warmer pockets, for around camp and at rest stops, but they are not essential. Hoods can be nice in cold weather, though they’re not found on many garments. In light fleece I like pullover tops with zippers or snaps at the neck. Fancier designs simply add more weight.
I wear fleece garments most days, since I live in a mostly damp and cool rural area in the hills and I’m outdoors almost every day. I don’t like over-heated houses, so I wear fleece indoors much of the year too. Over the years I’ve accumulated a whole wardrobe of fleece garments, from old Helly Hansen nylon-fiber pile ones—now relegated to outdoor tasks like gathering wood—and early Patagonia Synchilla Snap Ts and Retro Cardigans to much newer Polartec Windbloc and Gore Windstopper jackets. Though fine for day-to-day wear, most are not versatile enough for backpacking; they are too warm when I’m walking and bulkier than alternatives for carrying. However, for hiking in cool weather and for campwear in warm weather, I find the lightest 100-weight fleece provides all the insulation I need. Sometimes called microfleece, this material is comfortable, soft, dense, nonstretchy, and thin. It can be worn next to the skin, though it doesn’t wick very well. However it’s excellent as a midlayer. When worn over a Power Stretch base layer, it’s all the insulation I need while hiking in freezing weather. Garment weights run from 8 to 16 ounces. I’ve had several 100-weight fleece tops over the years, and they’ve all worn well. My favorites are two pullover designs with short neck zippers. One is a Lowe Alpine Polartec 100 top that weighs 11 ounces and has a small breast pocket. The other is a Jack Wolfskin Gecko, made from the company’s own Nanuc microfleece. This is my most used fleece because it weighs just 8 ounces. Just about every maker of fleece garments has a thin microfleece top in its range, and there are plenty of choices. It takes up little room in the pack, so I carry a light fleece year-round. Expedition-weight base layers give similar warmth and make good alternatives. Besides the Power Stretch and Parameta S tops described earlier, I have a Patagonia R1 Flash Pullover, made from a thick version of Polartec Power Dry with a smooth outer face and raised fleece pillars on the inside that trap warm air and aid wicking. It weighs 12 ounces and is more comfortable next to the skin than microfleece because it wicks well. Another alternative for windy weather is one of the Gore Windstopper N2S base layers described previously.
I used to consider midweight 200-weight fleece the most versatile, wearing it as campwear on cool summer evenings and as a midlayer while on the move in very cold weather. I rarely use it anymore, however; it’s been squeezed out by better alternatives. If I want warmth when hiking I prefer to wear two lighter fleeces or, if it’s really cold, a light top filled with synthetic insulation, while for camp I prefer something warmer than midweight fleece. There are plenty of midweight fleece tops, in weights from 12 to 25 ounces, with Polartec 200 being the standard fabric.
The warmest fleece, like Polartec 300, is too warm to wear while hiking except in extreme cold unless you feel the cold a great deal. It’s useful as a warm layer when you’re resting and in camp, especially in wet, cold weather. Most of these fabrics are quite heavy and bulky, though. There is one exception, 6.5-ounce high-loft Polartec Thermal Pro, a shaggy, furlike fleece that is very warm for the weight. It has an open weave and is very breathable and fast drying, though it has no wind resistance at all. It’s also very soft and flexible and feels wonderful next to the skin. Indeed, it feels so nice and looks so soft that people often come up and stroke it—which may or may not appeal to you. Patagonia uses it in its Regulator R2 garments. I have an R2 jacket that weighs 14.5 ounces. It has Power Stretch side panels, a full-length front zipper, and two zippered hand-warmer pockets. Other companies making 6.5-ounce Thermal Pro garments include Cloudveil, Mountain Hardwear, Marmot, Lowe Alpine, and Arc’teryx.
There are other types of Thermal Pro that are heavier, warmer, and less fluffy, such as the 9.5-ounce fabric used in Patagonia’s 20-ounce R3 Radiant Jacket (which I’m wearing as I write this), but I think the R2 version is the best for backpacking. Thermal Pro is expensive, but it should last—Malden Mills says it’s the most durable fleece. My R2 jacket is several years old and has had much use, and it’s still in good condition. I most often use it on day hikes, but I do occasionally take it backpacking when the weather may be cold and wet.
WINDPROOF FLEECE The most wind-resistant fleece is probably Polartec Wind Pro, said to have four times the wind resistance of other fleece (which is not saying much) because of its tight construction. Wind Pro will keep out cool breezes, but that’s all. To make fleece fully windproof you have to add a windproof layer. This can be a thin nylon or polyester shell or lining or a membrane. Shelled and lined fleece garments are bulkier and heavier than standard fleece. They are very warm but not very versatile, since you can’t separate the layers. The fabric actually called windproof fleece has a thin windproof membrane sandwiched between two layers of light fleece and looks like conventional fleece. There are two major windproof fleece fabrics: Malden Mills’ Polartec Windbloc and W. L. Gore’s Windstopper fleece. Fabrics come in different weights, and garments weigh 18 ounces or more. Windproof fleece isn’t as breathable as standard fleece or as fast at moving moisture. It’s far warmer than standard fleece in any sort of wind but not as warm weight-for-weight in still air. It will also keep out showers, though not continuous heavy rain. If you do get it wet, it doesn’t dry fast. I’ve tried several garments, and in all of them I’ve quickly overheated when walking uphill, even in cold, windy weather. There are some backpackers—like my partner, Denise—who can walk all day in windproof fleece without getting sweaty, so if you run cold rather than hot, it could be the answer for cold-weather backpacking. For me an ordinary fleece top and a separate wind shell are far more comfortable and versatile. That said, I have a Mountain Hardwear Windstopper Vest that I sometimes pack when I want an extra warm garment just in case the weather is cooler than expected. It weighs 11 ounces and packs quite small. Slipped on over a base layer at rest stops, it’s just enough to stop me from cooling down.
WATER REPELLENCY Even though fleece is nonabsorbent and quick drying, moisture can be trapped between the fibers, especially in thicker and windproof garments, which slows the drying time and makes them feel damp. Some fleece fabrics have water repellency applied during manufacture; these quickly shed light rain and snow and don’t hold moisture in the fibers, which speeds drying. You can improve the water repellency of any fleece by treating it with a wash-in waterproofing agent such as Nikwax PolarProof or Granger’s Extreme Wash In.
RECYCLED FLEECE Some fleece is made from recycled polyester and plastic soda bottles, which reduces the use of oil and natural gas (used in manufacturing polyester) and keeps plastic bottles out of landfills. Dyersburg ECO Fleece, Draper’s EcoPile, Wellman’s EcoSpun, and some Polartec Classic fleece are all made from recycled polyester. Patagonia was the first company to use recycled fleece, back in 1993, and it’s found in the Retro Cardigan and some of the Synchilla clothing such as the Synchilla Vest and the Synchilla Marsupial top.
For many years waterproof-breathable garments were promoted as being the only shells needed, able to protect from both wind and rain. While this is true, even the best waterproof fabrics are far less breathable than those that are windproof but not waterproof. Wind shells are also softer, more flexible, more comfortable, and more durable than waterproof-breathable shells. I’ve always carried a wind shell as well as a rain jacket. Indeed, a wind shell is the piece of clothing I use most. It may appear as extra weight given that you still have to carry a rain shell, but it needn’t be. A light rain shell is all that’s needed, even in severe storms, because you can wear it with your wind shell for greater protection. It’s the layering principle again. A wind shell and a light rain shell are more versatile than a standard-weight rain shell. The warmth a thin wind shell provides is surprising. Pull one over a base layer or a fleece garment and you’ll notice the difference even in still air.
Wind shells—simple garments with few features, made from a single layer of untreated fabric—were too basic and low-tech to attract much attention from the marketing people until the turn of the twentieth century. Then, spurred by some new high-tech fabrics, outdoor clothing designers suddenly discovered that waterproof-breathable garments weren’t suitable for all conditions and that much of the time water-resistant, windproof, highly breathable clothing was more versatile and more comfortable. The marketers called this supposedly new clothing soft shell and called rain gear hard shell. The exact meaning of soft shell is disputed. The debate seems arcane and rather unhelpful, but overall the term is applied to fairly thin windproof garments with varying degrees of water resistance.
Soft shell, then, is a new name for an old idea. Having praised wind shells for years, I’m happy to see them suddenly become the in thing, even if it took a new name to achieve it. The benefit for backpackers not concerned with the latest fashions is that there are far more garments in different styles and fabrics than there used to be. The most basic are old-style wind shells, made from a single layer of uncoated nylon or polyester. Worn over a fleece top, they keep out a surprising amount of rain. They can be extremely light. Montane’s Aero Smock, made from Pertex Quantum nylon, weighs an astonishing 2.68 ounces. It has a mesh pocket on the chest plus a short zipper at the neck. I have Montane’s Featherlite Smock, made from Pertex Microlite and weighing 3 ounces. It has no features other than Lycra cuffs and hem and a short neck zipper, but it keeps out the wind and packs down small enough to hold in my fist. Patagonia’s Dragonfly and Marmot’s Chinook, made from ultralight nylon, weigh 3 ounces and have hoods and pockets. My favorite wind shell weighs slightly more, 5.29 ounces. This is the Montane Lite-speed, made from Pertex Microlite nylon. It’s a bit longer than the lighter garments, and has a full-length front zipper, a double-layer hood, and a chest pocket. Wind resistance and breathability are both excellent, and water resistance is surprising for such a thin garment. Note that ultralight garments like these don’t have great abrasion resistance and so aren’t ideal for scrambling or bushwhacking. Most garments weigh a little more than these, but anything over 12 ounces is unnecessarily heavy.
Pertex is an excellent material for wind shells, but there are others, such as Supplex, Versatech, Clima-Guard, Silmond, and Tactel, plus proprietary ones such as The North Face’s Hydrenalite. Some makers just use unbranded nylon and polyester. Many of these fabrics are made from microfibers, which have a denier less than 1: that is, each fiber weighs less than a gram per 9,000 meters, which is a hundred times finer than human hair. Microfibers are soft, supple, strong, and very comfortable. Because more fibers are packed into each thread, microfibers are very windproof and water resistant, since air spaces are fewer and smaller than in higher-denier fabrics. There are two variants on the original wind shell idea: shells treated to increase water resistance and shells with a wicking lining that increases warmth and means they can be worn next to the skin. Once you apply a coating to a fabric, however, you reduce the breathability even if it still isn’t fully waterproof. Garments that don’t keep out heavy rain yet aren’t very breathable seem a bad compromise to me, and I’ve never liked them. The purpose of a wind shell is to resist wind and be highly breathable, not to be a poor imitation of a rain jacket. However one company, Nextec, has come up with a way to increase a fabric’s water resistance without affecting the breathability much. This is done by encapsulating the individual fibers in silicone rather than applying a coating. This leaves microscopic gaps between the fibers through which body moisture can escape. Fabrics treated like this are highly water resistant and won’t absorb moisture, making them very quick drying. The treatment, called EPIC (encapsulated protection inside clothing), can’t be washed out, and there’s no coating to wear off or membrane to tear (don’t wash the garment in detergent, though—it ruins the water repellency). I’ve been impressed with the GoLite Flow jacket, made from EPIC-treated polyester. It’s not fully waterproof, but it will resist heavy showers and prolonged light rain. Breathability is far better than with fully waterproof fabrics, and I’ve had very little condensation. The Flow is no longer available but Wild Things makes a hooded EPIC jacket/windshirt weighing 8 ounces that appears to be a good substitute.
Line a wind shell with a thin base-layer fabric and you have a garment that can be a base layer or a midlayer and that is windproof, fast wicking, and surprisingly warm for the weight. There are many of these garments; the classic is Marmot’s DriClime Windshirt, made from nylon with a brushed DriClime wicking lining. It has a full-length zipper, a large chest pocket, and weighs just 10 ounces. Slightly heavier at 13 ounces is the Patagonia Stretch Zephur Jacket, made from polyester with a brushed polyester lining. I’ve tried both, and they are comfortable next to the skin, wick moisture fast, dry quickly, and keep out brief showers and light rain. Slightly heavier but also a touch warmer is the hooded Rab Vapour Rise Trail Smock. This is made from Pertex Equilibrium, a polyester-nylon bicomponent fabric that wicks moisture really fast, with a brushed polyester lining. This easily replaces a fleece top and will cope with all but the worst weather without need of a shell. Even so, I find two separate layers more versatile so I mostly wear these tops on day hikes or in dependably cool and windy weather.
The fabrics that have stirred such interest in wind shells are stretch nylons with smooth outsides and brushed insides such as those from the Swiss company Schoeller and laminated stretch fabrics with a windproof membrane such as Gore Windstopper and Polartec Power Shield. The last two are really thin versions of windproof fleece. Although they come in different weights, all these fabrics are thicker, warmer, and heavier than simple nylon and polyester. The lightest and thinnest garments are roughly comparable to a midweight base layer plus a wind shell, the heaviest to a 100-weight fleece plus a shell. The laminated fabrics are more wind and water resistant but less breathable than the nonlaminated ones. None of them are fully waterproof, though Windstopper and Power Shield come close. To find out how they perform and how they might fit into a hiker’s wardrobe, I tried four of these garments: the 19-ounce Mountain Hardwear Velocity, made from Schoeller Dryskin Extreme; the 21-ounce GoLite Path, made from Schoeller 3XDRY Extreme; the 16-ounce North Face Apex 1, made from stretch nylon; and the 20-ounce Arc’teryx Gamma MX Hoody, made from Polartec Power Shield Lightweight. They all coped with wet and windy weather, they all felt comfortable, and they all wicked moisture quickly. Yet I wouldn’t take any of them on a backpacking trip. They’re just too heavy and bulky for the warmth they provide. They’re also expensive. Proponents—and there are many—say they keep you warm with fewer layers, increasing freedom of movement and comfort. Maybe so, but they’re not as versatile or as warm as three separate layers: a simple wind shell, a base layer, and a 100-weight fleece. They’re probably fine for cold-weather climbing and mountaineering, but they’re not ideal for backpacking. Designers have fallen in love with them, though, and are having great fun combining fabrics and building garments that look beautiful and feel sensuous. The 19-ounce Marmot Super Hero Jacket, for example, is made from five fabrics—Windstopper Triton across the shoulders for water resistance, Power Shield under the arms for breathability, Polartec Wind Pro and Windstopper N2S on the body for warmth, and Windstopper Fitzroy on the arms and sides for reinforcement. Impressive! But do you need it?
I haven’t rejected stretch soft shell fabrics totally, though, and I do sometimes carry a Windstopper N2S base-layer top (see page 140) or a thin stretch nylon North Face Apex Zip Shirt instead of a 100-weight fleece when the weather looks reliably windy. At 11 and 12.5 ounces, respectively, these simple pullover tops weigh less than fancier soft shells. Slightly heavier at 13.8 ounces but more rain resistant and more versatile is the GoLite Kinetic jacket, made from the lightest version of Power Shield with Power Stretch panels over the shoulders. The Kinetic has zip-off sleeves, leaving a 9.5-ounce vest that makes a good backup garment in cool damp windy weather. I treat these soft shells as alternatives to light fleece and sometimes wear a thin wind shell over them, which adds quite a bit of warmth and water resistance.
Many wind shells are pullovers, which are usually lighter than jackets and often more comfortable when worn as a shirt in camp. They’re usually short, so they won’t extend below a rain jacket worn over them. The size should be adequate for wearing over other midlayers. Useful though not essential features are hoods, map-sized chest pockets, and adjustable cuffs. Even unlined wind shells can be worn next to the skin, although they may feel a little clammy when you’re on the move.
While several thin layers are best when hiking, since you can add and subtract layers to suit the conditions, one thick, warm garment for camp and rest stop wear is worth carrying in all but the mildest weather. This garment could be a thick fleece such as Thermal Pro or Polartec 300, which are especially good in cold, wet weather. However, garments filled with down or synthetic insulation are warmer, weigh less, and pack smaller. They are breathable and windproof, too, so you don’t need a shell over them except in rain. I find they warm me psychologically as well as physically. Just knowing I have a thick, puffy garment stowed in my pack helps me feel warm on a cold day. Simple designs are best, since they weigh least. The only features I look for are insulated hand-warmer pockets. Hoods are nice, but a hat does just as well.
The GoLite Kinetic jacket is a versatile soft shell.
Vests make good insulating garments because they keep your core warm and are light and low in bulk. On Pacific Crest Trail, Continental Divide, and Arizona Trail hikes, I carried insulated vests—down on the PCT and AZT and synthetic on the CDT. In combination with a fleece top when the temperature occasionally fell well below freezing, these were just enough to keep me warm in camp. If weight isn’t critical, I often carry a jacket or a sweater, which weighs more than a vest but provides more warmth.
Down from ducks and geese is still the lightest, warmest insulation, despite all attempts to create a synthetic that works as well. Garments filled with down pack small and, weight-for-weight, provide much more warmth than fleece or synthetic fills. They’re too hot to wear when walking unless it’s extremely cold, but they’re ideal at rest stops and in camp. Down is very comfortable, and its thickness is reassuring. It looks and feels warm. There’s nothing like snuggling into a down garment in freezing weather. Down is expensive, but it’s also very durable and will long outlast any synthetic fill. However, it must be kept dry: when sodden it loses its insulating ability, and it dries very slowly unless you can hang it in the hot sun or put it in a machine dryer. Down can absorb vast amounts of water, so a soaked down garment is also very heavy to carry. But keeping down dry isn’t difficult if you carry it in a waterproof stuff sack and wear it only in a tent or under a tarp if it’s raining. Despite this, I still carry a down top only when rain isn’t likely, since I may want to wear it outside. If you really want to use a down top in wet weather, you can get down jackets with water-resistant shells like Dryloft or EPIC. They’re more expensive than standard shells and in my experience slightly heavier and not quite as breathable. Also, if the weather is wet it won’t be freezing, so a down top isn’t needed; a light synthetic one will be adequate.
A down jacket, a fleece hat, and a hot drink keep the author warm on a frosty fall morning.
The thickness of an insulated garment is the best guide to its warmth. This is known as the loft. Down comes in different grades, measured by how many cubic inches an ounce of down will fill. This is known as the fill power, and the higher the number, the more loft a given weight of down will provide. For example, 750-fill-power down is warmer weight-for-weight than 550-fill power.
For backpacking, a light down garment with sewn-through seams (where the stitching goes right through the garment—see the sleeping bag section in Chapter 6 for more on this) is all you need. Complex constructions, vast amounts of fill, and heavy waterproof-breathable shells are for Himalayan mountaineers and polar explorers. Garments suitable for backpacking need weigh no more than 25 ounces. For years I’ve used a Marmot Down Sweater filled with 650-fill-power down. This weighs 21.5 ounces and has an average loft of 2.5 inches (measured by placing a ruler across the garment in several places and reading off the height above the ground). The Down Sweater has a nylon shell, hand-warmer pockets, a down-filled baffle behind the front zipper, and a stand-up collar. This top has kept me warm in freezing temperatures for many years now, and until recently it seemed quite light for the warmth provided. But I’m being seduced away from my old friend by the delightful Western Mountaineering Flight jacket, which weighs an astonishing 10.5 ounces yet has the same loft (though the sweater is several years old while the Flight has been worn only a few times; the sweater may have had more loft when new). The design is the same as the Down Sweater too, except that the pockets don’t have zippers and it’s a little shorter, reaching just below the waist. It’s the materials that differ. The Flight has an ultralight 0.9-ounce taffeta-nylon shell stuffed with 800-fill-power down. Western Mountaineering also makes a vest (and the company actually does make its products rather than importing them) called the Reactor that has the same fill and shell and weighs just 8 ounces. By contrast, Marmot’s Down Vest, which I took on the Arizona Trail, weighs 14.5 ounces. There are many other good down garments from companies like Feathered Friends (especially the 16-ounce Helios), The North Face, Mountain Hardwear, Patagonia, Nunatak, GoLite, Rab, and PHD (Peter Hutchinson Designs), but none is as light as the Flight.
Down garments are excellent in cold, dry weather.
WATERPROOF FABRIC TERMS DEFINED
Microporous: a material with microscopic holes that allow water vapor through but keep out liquid water (rain).
Hydrophilic: a solid waterproof material with chains of water-attracting molecules built in, along which water vapor can pass through to the outside.
Membrane: a very thin breathable waterproof film. Gore-Tex is a microporous membrane; Sympatex is a hydrophilic membrane.
Laminate: a membrane stuck to a more durable fabric, usually a form of nylon. In two-layer laminates, the membrane is glued to the outer fabric and the lining hangs free. In three-layer laminates, the membrane is glued between an outer fabric and a light inner scrim, so the finished material looks like just one layer. In lining laminates, the membrane is glued to the lining and the outer layer hangs free. In drop liners, the membrane is bonded to a light scrim and hangs free between the inner and outer layers.
Coating: polyurethane applied to the inside of a fabric, usually nylon or polyester. Many makers have their own coatings, though they may come from the same source and there is often little difference between them.
The Helly Hansen Thin Air Vest filled with Primaloft One is warm and light.
For wet-cold conditions, synthetic-filled garments are a good choice. They don’t absorb much moisture, keep some of their warmth when damp, and dry quickly, so they perform better than down when wet. They’re not as warm for the weight when dry, however, and they’re bulkier when packed. They’re warmer and lighter than heavy fleece garments, though. The best synthetic fills have good durability, but they still won’t last as long as fleece or down. Although not as thick as down garments, they’re soft and comfortable. You can choose from several fills. Primaloft and Polarguard are generally regarded as the best, with Thermolite Micro not far behind. Polarguard is well established as a warm, durable fill. It’s a continuous polyester filament rather than a mass of short fibers. The filaments are hollow and trap air for greater warmth. Both materials come in several versions, of which Polarguard Delta and Primaloft One are regarded as the best. Primaloft is a very soft hydrophobic microfiber. Both materials are more compressible than other synthetic fills and resist moisture well. Primaloft is the softer of the two and drapes around the body better, but there’s not much difference between them. The jacket I’ve used most is the hip-length GoLite Coal, which is filled with Polarguard Delta, has a ripstop nylon shell (Polarguard Delta and Pertex nylon-polyester shell in the latest models), and weighs 19 ounces (16.5 ounces without the detachable hood). The loft is 1 inch, less than half that of the down tops described earlier. The Coal is comfortable, will resist a fair amount of rain, and has kept me warm in temperatures down to 25°F (−4°C). The Coal has been replaced by the Belay parka, which weighs the same but is shorter and has an attached hood. If it’s not likely to be that cold, I carry a lighter garment, the Rab Photon Primaloft One smock, which has a Pertex Quantum shell and weighs 12.5 ounces, with a loft of just under half an inch. The Photon is a pullover with a long front zipper and hand-warmer pockets that are accessible when you’re wearing a pack hipbelt. It’s very soft and comfortable, and I have occasionally hiked in it when the weather has been colder and windier than expected. If it’s unlikely that I’ll need an insulated garment but I want something just in case, I often carry a Primaloft One–filled Helly Hansen Thin Air Vest, which weighs 10 ounces and has a polyester microfiber shell and hand-warmer pockets. The loft is 0.67 inch. Patagonia makes a similar vest, the Puffball, filled with Thermolite Micro and also weighing 10 ounces. There are many others.
Synthetic insulated garments don’t compact as well as down garments, but they do pack down much smaller than equivalent-warmth fleece. However, compression is bad for synthetic fills, and repeated or prolonged compression can flatten the fill so it loses its loft. To get the maximum life out of my synthetic garments, I pack them at the top of the pack, using them to fill out any remaining space. I don’t stuff them into the small stuff sacks usually provided with them or load heavy items on top of them.
Keeping out wind, rain, and snow is the most important task of your outer clothing. If this layer fails in heavy rain, it doesn’t matter how good your other garments are—wet clothing exposed to the wind will chill you, whatever material it’s made of. In wet clothes you can go from feeling warm to shivering and being on the verge of hypothermia very rapidly, as I know from experience. Rain clothing must be waterproof; it’s more comfortable if it also lets out at least some body moisture.
Don’t, however, expect too much from rain gear. In heavy showers you can expect to remain pretty dry. At the end of a day of steady rain you’ll probably be damp, even in the best waterproof-breathable rain gear, because the high humidity will restrict the fabric’s breathability. In non-breathable rain gear you’ll be wet from condensation. If rain continues nonstop for several days so that you can’t dry anything out, you’ll get progressively wetter, however good your rain gear. This is where wicking inner layers and fleece mid-layers make a difference—they are still relatively warm when damp, and they dry quickly. A wind shell worn under your rain gear will help protect inner layers from condensation on the inside of the rainwear.
Rain jacket worn for protection on a damp, misty day.
If rain keeps up for more than a few days, it’s a good idea to head out to where you can dry your gear. The wettest walk I’ve ever done was an eighty-six-day, south-to-north trek through the mountains of Norway and Sweden. It rained most days, and on several occasions it rained nonstop for a week. The only way I could get my gear and myself dry was to spend an occasional night in a warm mountain hut or a village hotel.
When the water vapor your body gives off eventually hits your outer layer, it will condense on the inside unless it can pass through the fabric or escape through vents. Over time, this condensation can eventually soak back into your midlayers, leaving you feeling damp and chilly.
The first waterproof fabric that allowed inner moisture to escape with any success was Gore-Tex, which started the waterproof-breathable revolution back in the 1970s. Since then a host of waterproof fabrics have appeared that transmit water vapor to some degree, though Gore-Tex still leads the market. These fabrics work because of a pressure differential between the air inside the jacket and the air outside; your body heat pushes the vapor through the fabric. The warmer the air, the more water vapor it can hold. Since the air next to your skin is almost always warmer than the air outside your garments, it contains more water vapor, even in the rain. Condensation forms on the inside of shell garments when the air in your clothing becomes saturated with vapor that cannot escape. This vapor hits the inside of your shell and condenses on the cool surface. But a breathable fabric lets at least some vapor pass through as long as the outside air is cooler than the inside air. (Theoretically, waterproof-breathable fabrics can work both ways, but when rain clothing is needed the outside air temperature is always lower than your body temperature.) Breathable garments need to be relatively close-fitting to keep the air inside as warm as possible so the fabric can transmit moisture more effectively. However, ventilating any garment by opening the front, the cuffs, and any vents and lowering the hood is still the quickest and most efficient way to let moisture out.
Breathable fabrics aren’t perfect, of course, and they won’t work in all conditions. There’s a limit to the amount of moisture even the best of them can transmit in a given time. When you sweat hard, you won’t stay bone dry under a breathable jacket, nor will you do so in continuous heavy rain, despite makers’ claims. When the outside of any garment is running with water, breathability is reduced and condensation forms. It’s hard for water vapor to be pushed through a sheet of water. With the best fabrics, once your energy output slows down and you produce less moisture or once the rain stops, any dampness will dry out through the fabric. In very cold conditions, especially if it’s also windy, condensation may freeze, creating a layer of ice inside the garment. The easiest way to get rid of this is to take the garment off and shake it.
In wet-cold weather, you need warm clothing between your base layer and your shell. How much depends on your level of activity. Clothing that is too thick compromises breathability. Nick Brown of Páramo has calculated that more than 1/15 inch of insulation will significantly reduce breathability. Many heavy fleece garments are thicker than this. It’s best to wear only enough clothing to keep you just warm while moving rather than trying to feel toasty.
There are two main categories of breathable materials: polyurethane coatings and membranes (see sidebar, page 149). From all the fancy names, you’d think there were vast numbers of coated fabrics. Actually there are only a few, since many garment makers assign their own names to the same fabrics. Proprietary names include Triple-point Ceramic (Lowe Alpine), Helly Tech (Helly Hansen), H2NO (Patagonia), HyVent (The North Face), PreCip (Marmot), Elements (REI), Microshed (Solstice), Texapore (Jack Wolfskin), Omni-Tech (Columbia Sportswear), and Camp-Tech (Campmor). Many makers use Entrant, though not always under that name.
Waterproof (two- or three-ply laminate) (left) and three-layer laminate (right).
Coatings are as waterproof as membranes, but just as they started approaching membranes in breathability, new membranes came along that are definitely superior. I get damp more quickly in even the best coated fabrics (such as Marmot PreCip) than I do in membranes like eVENT and Paclite. However, there is a new polyurethane coating from Toray called Entrant G2 XT that is designed to be almost as breathable as the best membranes. I haven’t tried this yet but it sounds promising.
Membranes are arguably the most effective (and most expensive) waterproof-breathable fabrics. There are far fewer membranes than coated fabrics, with just one generally available—Gore-Tex. Sympatex is still around but is used by only a few makers. However, a new one, called eVENT, looks very promising. Pearl Izumi, Jagged Edge, Montane, and Rab all make eVENT garments. There are a few proprietary membranes, such as Alchemy (GoLite) and Conduit (Mountain Hardwear). An unusual membrane is 3M’s Propore, a microporous polypropylene membrane laminated to nonwoven polyurethane to produce a very soft fabric used in Rainshield clothing made by ProQuip. A similar polypro membrane and nonwoven polypro fabric are used by Frogg Toggs.
Gore-Tex and eVENT are microporous membranes (see sidebar, page 149) made from expanded polytetrafluoroethylene (ePTFE). Sympatex is a hydrophilic membrane made of polyester. Gore-Tex has become a family of fabrics, with the original version joined by XCR (extended comfort range), which is more breathable, and Paclite, which is lighter and more breathable though not as tough as XCR. First-generation Gore-Tex was very breathable, but once contaminated with oil, whether from sweat, sunscreen, or some other source, it leaked—as I found out most unpleasantly on a cold, wet, windswept mountain pass. In second-generation Gore-Tex a thin layer of polyurethane was put over the membrane to protect it. This solved the oil problem but reduced the breathability. However, BHA Technologies claims its eVENT membrane is oil repellent so that a polyurethane coating isn’t needed and water vapor can pass through the pores in the membrane without having to be absorbed into the polyurethane first, a process BHA calls “direct venting.” I’ve tried eVENT garments from Rab, Montane, and Lowe Alpine, and they are noticeably more breathable than any other membrane or coated fabric I’ve worn. Paclite, which has an inner layer consisting of carbon and an oleophobic (oilhating) substance, is the most breathable Gore-Tex material.
Membranes can be laminated to a variety of nylon and polyester fabrics. The thicker the fabric, the more durable the garment. In three-layer laminates, the membrane is glued between two layers of fabric to produce a material that is hardwearing but slightly stiff. Because the membrane is protected by fabric on both sides, three-layer laminates are the most durable constructions. Less durable but softer are two-layer laminates, in which the membrane is stuck to an outer layer while the inner lining hangs free, and drop liners, in which the membrane is left loose between the inner and outer layers. Finally, there are lining laminates, also described as laminated to the drop, where the membrane is stuck to a very light inner layer. This design minimizes the number of seams, which is a bonus. Drop liners and lining laminates are now rarely used in hiking clothing.
The disadvantages of coatings and membranes are that the barriers aren’t very durable, can’t be reproofed when they start to leak badly, and transmit only water vapor, not liquid sweat. However, Páramo Directional Waterproofs, from the company that makes Nikwax proofing products, are very durable, can be reproofed, and allow sweat through to the outside. There are no coatings or membranes. Instead, Páramo mimics the way animals stay dry—a unique waterproof-breathable system that inventor Nick Brown calls the Nikwax biological analogy. This system requires a two-layer material.
The inner layer of a Páramo Directional Waterproof is a very thin polyester fleece, called the Nikwax Analogy Pump Liner, whose fibers are tightly packed on the inside but become less dense toward the outside, like animal fur. To replicate the animal oils that keep fur water repellent, Parameta is coated with Nikwax TX.10. Like fur, Parameta pumps water in one direction only—away from the body. It does this more quickly than rain can fall, so moisture is always moving away from the body faster than it arrives, keeping you dry.
To be effective on its own, the Pump Liner would have to be very thick, however. To keep it thin (and therefore not too warm or heavy), Páramo garments have an outer layer of windproof polyester microfiber that deflects most of the rain. The combination of these two fabrics allows more moisture to get out, including condensed perspiration, than any membrane or coating. It’s not dependent on humidity levels outside the garment or on the temperature inside. The whole garment, including zippers and cords, is treated with TX.10, so it won’t absorb moisture or wick it inside.
I’ve been using Páramo waterproofs since they first appeared in the early 1990s, and I’ve found them very comfortable and efficient. Because there is no coating or laminate, they are very soft and comfortable, feeling more like a soft shell than a waterproof. Reproofing works, and the garments last a long time. There are two limitations. The two-layer construction makes them rather warm and fairly heavy—the lightest Páramo jacket, the Cuzco, weighs 25 ounces. Effectively, you are wearing a wind shell and a base layer. This makes them too warm for me in summer, although some people find them comfortable year-round. From fall to spring, however, I find Páramo jackets and pants comfortable and have never gotten wet or suffered condensation in them. Because the garments are very soft and the lining wicks moisture, you can wear them next to the skin, so you need only one layer instead of three. They are far more effective than any of the new and much touted soft-shell fabrics because they are fully waterproof while being just as breathable and comfortable.
Nonbreathable waterproof clothing is made from nylon or polyester, usually coated with polyurethane or polyvinyl chloride (PVC), though occasionally with silicone. Its greatest advantage is that it’s far less expensive than waterproof-breathable fabrics. Polyurethane is much more durable than PVC, though both eventually crack and peel off the base layer. Cheap vinyl rain gear lasts about as long as it takes to put it on and isn’t worth considering, despite the price. Because moisture can’t escape through the fabric, condensation is copious if you wear nonbreathable garments for long. The only way to remove that moisture is to ventilate the garment, hardly practical while the rain is pouring down. One way to limit the dampness is to wear a windproof layer under the waterproof one, which traps some of the moisture between the two layers.
While you’re hiking you’ll still feel warm, even if you’re very damp with sweat, because nonbreathable rainwear holds in heat as well as moisture. When you stop, though, you’ll cool down rapidly unless you put on dry clothes. It’s far better to get damp with sweat than wet from rain, however. Until the late 1970s all rain gear was nonbreathable, and people still hiked the Appalachian Trail in the rain and slogged through the wet forests of the Pacific Northwest.
Weights of nonbreathable rain tops start at 6 ounces. Few name brands offer nonbreathable rainwear. Two that do are Sierra Designs, whose polyurethane-coated Backpacker’s Jacket weighs 11.3 ounces, and Stephenson’s Warmlite, whose silicone-coated nylon rain jacket weighs 6 ounces.
Material alone is not enough to ensure that a garment will perform well—design also matters. The two basic choices are jackets with full-length zippers and pullovers. I’ve tried both, and I much prefer jackets, since they are so much easier to get on and off. That old standby the poncho is still popular with some backpackers. Ponchos are versatile; they can double as tarps or ground cloths. They have good ventilation, too, but they can act like sails in strong winds, making them unsuitable for windy places. Ponchos are usually made of non-breathable fabrics. Examples are Stephenson’s Warmlite poncho and GoLite’s Ultra-Lite Poncho, both made from silicone-coated nylon, which weigh 8 ounces. Hilleberg makes a curious waterproof-breathable garment called the Bivanorak (18 ounces). It’s a poncho-style garment that covers you and your pack but has sleeves and can also be used as a bivouac bag or sleeping bag cover.
Length is a matter of personal choice. I like hip-length garments because they give my legs greater freedom of movement, but many people prefer longer ones so they don’t need rain pants as frequently.
Seams are a potential leak point in any waterproof garment. Only Páramo garments have seams that don’t leak without being sealed, because they are treated with TX.10 and are water repellent. In waterproof-breathable garments and the more expensive nonbreathables, seams are usually taped, the most effective way of making them watertight. In cheaper garments, seams may be coated with a special sealant instead. If you have a garment with uncoated seams, you can coat them yourself with urethane sealant. You also can do this when the original sealant cracks and comes off—as it will. Taped seams can peel off, though this is rare. Even so, the fewer seams, the better. The location of the seams is important, too. The best garments have seamless shoulder yokes to avoid abrasion from pack straps.
The front zipper is another possible source of leaks. Standard zippers should be covered with a single or, preferably, double waterproof flap, closed with snaps or Velcro. The covering flap should come all the way to the top of the zipper. Many garments now have watertight zippers, first introduced by Arc’teryx, which are coated with urethane and have flaps that close over the zipper teeth. In my experience these are near enough to being waterproof, though driving rain can sometimes work its way in. I’ve never had much rain enter, though, and I like not having to fasten double flaps. The lack of bulk and slight weight reduction is welcome too. Most zippers open from the bottom as well as the top. These are slightly more awkward to use than single-direction zippers and have no advantages that I can see except perhaps to allow ease of movement and access to pants pockets in very long garments.
KEY FEATURES: RAIN GEAR
Waterproof-breathable fabric to allow some body moisture out.
Taped seams: the fewer seams, the better.
An adjustable hood with a peak that gives protection and allows side-to-side vision.
Adjustable cuffs.
A full-length front zipper with a storm flap.
Zippered chest pockets big enough for maps.
Low weight and bulk. (I always hope my rain jacket will spend most of its time in the pack!)
To keep rain out, hoods should fit closely around your face when the drawcords are tightened, without leaving a gap under the chin. Hoods that roll into the collar seem pointless in the back-country. They’re designed to look neat in town, but often you can’t easily get them out while wearing the jacket. Detachable hoods need to have a large overlap of material to prevent rain from running down your neck; most are very difficult to attach while wearing the jackets. I’ve been wary of them since I found a faded detachable hood in a gully high in the mountains. Had it been ripped off by the wind or dropped by fumbling cold fingers? Either way, someone had to function without a hood. A wired or otherwise stiffened peak or visor helps keep hail or driving rain off your face. People who wear glasses say this is essential. The best hoods move with your head so you can look to the side without staring at the lining, a problem with too many hoods. The best way to check is to try the hood on, though you can make a quick assessment by looking at the seams. A single vertical seam running back to front over the hood generally means it won’t move with you; if there are two seams, or a single seam that runs across the hood from one side to the other, the hood is more likely to allow good visibility. Unfortunately, the hoods that limit vision most are the ones that give the best protection. I prefer protection to visibility, especially when the rain drives down for hours and swirling mists hide the view.
A good hood should turn with the head and have a stiffened peak to keep rain off the face. GoLite Phantom.
In cold weather I usually wear a fleece-lined waterproof-breathable cap with a large brim instead of a hood during light showers, and I wear it under a hood in storms and blizzards for better protection than any hood alone can give. This combination is too warm outside the snow season, though baseball caps work reasonably well. Whether or not you wear such a cap, your jacket hood must be big enough to fit warm headwear underneath, from a full balaclava to a light knitted hat. Many hoods now have a drawcord or adjustable tab at the back so they can be expanded to cover a bulky hat or shortened so the peak doesn’t flop in your eyes when you take the hat off. Most of these work well. Front hood draw cords can lash your face in strong winds, so many jackets have tabs to hold them down or have cords that tuck into the jacket at each end. These can be fiddly to use but are welcome in storms.
Sleeves need to be cut full under the arms to allow for free movement. Trying on a garment is the best way to find out how well the sleeves are cut. Articulated sleeves with a built-in curve at the elbow may be useful for mountaineering but don’t have any advantages for backpackers.
Many garments have underarm zippers or “pit zips,” which are great for ventilation, though they can leak in heavy rain. However, jackets with double Velcro flaps to protect the zippers can be extremely hard to use. I wonder if designers have ever stood on a mountaintop in a blizzard with one arm in the air while the other hand gropes under pack straps trying to do up a zipper? Double flaps over pit zips are also bulky and can feel uncomfortable. Watertight zips with no flaps over them are much easier to use. I rarely use pit zips and don’t regard them as essential. Wide cuffs and mesh chest pockets are easier to use for ventilation.
RAIN JACKETS: MY CHOICES
The light rain jacket I favored in the last edition weighed 19 ounces. Now I wouldn’t consider that particularly light. My affections are currently split between the 13-ounce GoLite Phantom jacket, made from Gore-Tex Paclite, and the 14-ounce Montane Superfly, made from eVENT. Both have hoods with wired visors. The Phantom has two large mesh chest pockets and pit zips; the Superfly has two hand-warmer pockets and a chest pocket. Overall, the Phantom has the best design and ventilation but the Superfly is more breathable. If a rain jacket is not likely to be needed, I carry neither of these, however, preferring the much lighter Montane Hydralite. The breathability of this coated anorak is only moderate, there are no vents, and it has elasticized cuffs and a hood that rolls into the collar, which are features I dislike. However, it weighs just 7.7 ounces, making it probably the lightest waterproof-breathable jacket that’s capable of coping with the worst storms. It has a hood with a wired peak, a single chest pocket, and a watertight half-length zipper.
In cold weather, I wear a Páramo Alta II jacket that weighs 29 ounces. This has a snap-closed flap inside the front zipper that you can leave fastened with the zipper undone for ventilation, a hood with a wired peak, wide cuffs you can roll up, sleeve vents, and five pockets. It deals easily with the worst winter storms and is very comfortable. Because of the weight, I use this jacket only when I expect to wear it all day every day. A wind shell or a light fleece is unnecessary with it, which saves some weight.
The Montane Superfly eVENT jacket.
Cuffs need to be adjustable if they’re to be any use for ventilation. I like simple external, Velcro-closed ones rather than the neater but more awkward internal storm cuffs, and I abhor non-adjustable elasticized cuffs because my arms often overheat in them and run with sweat. Wide sleeves and cuffs provide the most ventilation and can even be rolled up when it’s warm. They’re also easy to pull over gloves or mittens.
Pockets are useful for maps, compasses, hats, gloves, and other small items as well as your cold hands. But pockets aren’t always waterproof, and even if they are, water will get in when you open them in the rain or stick a wet hand inside. It’s best to keep anything you want to stay dry inside a plastic bag. Páramo pockets are totally waterproof, as are some of those with watertight zippers. Pockets with standard zippers should always have covering flaps. The most water-resistant pockets hang inside the jacket, attached only at the top. My preference is for chest pockets, which are accessible when you’re wearing a pack hipbelt. Hem pockets are usually inaccessible then, but I don’t carry anything in them anyway, because they then flap irritatingly against my legs.
For chest pockets, the best compromise between waterproofness and accessibility is a vertical zippered entrance under the jacket’s front flap but outside its zipper. (Pockets inside the jacket stay dry, but you let in wind and rain when you open the jacket front to use them.) Zippers that close upward are best because small items in the pocket are less likely to fall out when you open them. Pullover garments usually have a single large “kangaroo” pouch on the chest, which is the easiest to use and very water resistant.
Pockets don’t need to be made from waterproof-breathable material. Indeed, breathability is reduced significantly if there are two or more layers of waterproof-breathable material on top of each other. Plain nylon is fine, but mesh is better, especially for chest pockets, because it adds minimum weight and you can ventilate the garment by opening the pockets. Mesh is particularly effective on a garment with two angled chest pockets on the outside, because with both pockets open but protected by their flaps, you can ventilate the whole chest and armpit area.
Mesh is also the best material for the inner lining found on most two-layer laminates and some coated garments, again because it’s light and helps moisture reach the breathable layer as quickly as possible. If the mesh is made from a wicking fabric, as many now are, all the better. Mesh can get damp with condensation, but solid linings, even nylon ones, can get quite wet, however breathable the outer layer.
Drawcords are needed at the collar for tightening the hood. They are also often found at the waist, but these are unnecessary, since the pack’s hipbelt closes off the jacket anyway. Self-locking toggles that grip until they are released are a boon on drawcords; trying to untangle an iced-up tiny knot with frozen fingers so you can lower your hood is not fun.
Finally, a note on shell garments with extra zippers for attaching a fleece inner layer: I hate them. The zippers add weight for no practical purpose and increase the cost. I’ve used such garments only briefly, but as far as I can see, they’re designed purely so that the combined garment can be worn as a warm town coat. I don’t find the effort of donning two garments too great to manage.
If you don’t wear rain shells very often, then a light one is all you need. The lightest practical jacket I’ve come across is Montane’s Hydralite at 7.7 ounces. There are plenty of good jackets between 10 and 16 ounces that should prove reasonably durable, including many made from Gore-Tex Paclite and a few made from eVENT. Above 16 ounces you find jackets that are tough and protective for severe mountain weather and regular use but a little heavy for carrying in the pack.
Rain jackets are more comfortable if they fit properly. A jacket should be roomy enough to fit over a fleece top without feeling restrictive. A close-fitting jacket will have better breathability, but slightly large is far better than slightly small. I also like sleeves that are long enough to pull over my hands if the weather turns unexpectedly cool.
Rain pants used to be uncomfortable, restrictive garments that sagged at the waist, bulged at the knees, and snagged at the ankles. Some still are. Like most hikers, I wore them only during the heaviest downpours.
The introduction of waterproof-breathable fabrics made rain pants slightly more comfortable, but it was only when designers got to work on them that they really changed. In part this is related to changes in legwear in general. Traditional rain pants needed to be big and baggy because they had to fit over heavy wool or cotton pants, which were also big and baggy. Modern leg-wear is made from lighter, thinner fabrics and is closer fitting—a big improvement. Softer fabrics have helped, too. The changes have been so dramatic that the best waterproof legwear is comfortable enough to be worn next to the skin.
There are two basic designs: simple pants and bibs with a high back and chest and suspenders. For most hiking, pants are best, since they weigh less, are less bulky, are easier to get on and off, and cost less. Bibs, however, are excellent in cold weather, especially for ski touring, since they’re warmer than pants, leave no gaps at the waist when you stretch, and minimize the chance that snow will get into your clothes. Putting them on in cold and windy weather is unpleasant, to say the least, because you have to remove other layers. For that reason, and because of their weight and bulk, they’re best worn all day rather than carried.
Base-layer long pants or, in really cold weather, fleece pants are the best garments to wear under rain pants, since they feel comfortable when damp. Synthetic trail pants work well too, but cotton-nylon and cotton trousers absorb moisture and tend to feel damp and cold.
Features worth having on rain pants are adjustable drawcords at the waist and knee-length zippers to allow you to get the pants on over boots. Pockets, or slits to allow access to inner pants pockets, are useful. If you wear rain pants frequently, consider full-length side zips that can be opened at the top for ventilation; they also allow you to put on rain pants over crampons or skis, though it can be hard to handle long zippers in a strong wind. Keep in mind that it’s very difficult to make full-length side zippers fully waterproof. Velcro-closed flaps help, but they make it even harder to put the pants on. Watertight zippers are a better choice. I prefer full-length zippers for pants I’ll wear all day; I’d rather have good ventilation and suffer the occasional leak. Gussets behind knee-length zippers help keep rain out, but they tend to catch in the zippers. For men, rain pants with flies are worth considering. I don’t like elasticized hems; I find they ride up over your boot tops, letting water in. Nonelasticized hems with drawcords or Velcro-closed tabs are better. Ultralight pants like the GoLite Reed omit zippers to save weight; when they’ll spend most of the time on my back, I’m happy with this.
Rain pants run from 5 to 40 ounces, depending on design and fabric. As with rain jackets, heavier garments will outlast lighter ones. Rain pants suffer more hard wear than jackets, though, so if you’re likely to wear them much of the time, I’d put durability above weight. But if they’ll spend most of their time in your pack, the lighter the better. The heaviest garments might be a little hot in summer, while the lightest, thinnest rain pants don’t give adequate protection in severe winter weather.
It’s best to try rain pants on before you buy, preferably over the pants you’ll wear under them so you can check that they don’t bind anywhere when you move. Length is important, too. Unfortunately, few makers offer different lengths. Alterations are possible, though zipped legs make this difficult (if the zippers start a little way above the hem, pants are easier to shorten). It’s better to find a pair that fits to begin with.
An umbrella makes a great sunshade. GoLite Dome.
Although they’re not clothing, this seems an appropriate time to discuss umbrellas. I’d never considered carrying an umbrella or seen anyone else doing so until I met a hiker using one on a rainy day back in 1988 on the North Boundary Trail in Jasper National Park. It was much more comfortable than a rain jacket, Stu Dechka told me. His Gore-Tex jacket was draped over his pack to keep it dry. I was surprised but thought no more about it until five years later when Ray Jardine extolled the virtues of umbrellas in The Pacific Crest Trail Hiker’s Handbook. My hiking apprenticeship took place in the windy, treeless British hills, and I’d never given umbrellas serious consideration. People on city streets seemed to have enough problems when it was windy; in the hills umbrellas would be impossible to handle. However, on reflection I could see that for hiking in forests and areas where gales are unusual, they could have advantages.
Then I had the opportunity to hike for a few days with Ray Jardine in the Oregon Cascades, and we took umbrellas. I soon discovered that in the woods they’re excellent. It was wonderful to stride through the forest in heavy rain with my hood down and my jacket wide open and stay dry. The closed-off feeling of being sealed in a rain jacket was absent. At stops, the umbrella provided shelter and protected the pack. But above timberline a gusty wind was blowing. Ray showed me how to point the umbrella into the wind and close it down slightly to protect it and also keep the rain out of my face. But as we climbed higher the wind grew stronger and gusted from every direction; eventually both our umbrellas turned inside out and ripped. (Ray thought they could be modified to prevent this.) This was late October; such severe conditions would be unusual during the summer hiking season, but I’m too cautious to hike without rain clothing even with an umbrella. (Ray and Jenny Jardine have hiked both the Appalachian and Pacific Crest Trails with umbrellas and without rain gear, but Ray does recommend carrying a light rain jacket.) When I hiked the Arizona Trail several years later, I brought a 9-ounce GoLite Dome umbrella, designed by Ray. It made a great sunshade in the desert (though covering it with Mylar would have made it even better; GoLite now makes the Chrome Dome, which has a metallic canopy), and I used it to fend off one heavy shower. However, while it was easy to hold on good trails and open terrain, it was awkward on rough ground and in dense vegetation. You can’t use two trekking poles and hold an umbrella, and overall I’ve decided the poles have more benefit for me, so the Dome doesn’t get much use.
As always, there is a view that challenges accepted wisdom, in this case the concept of “breathability.” Our skin is always slightly moist, however dry it may feel; if it really dries out it cracks and chaps, and sores appear. Our bodies constantly produce liquid—either sweat or, when we aren’t exercising hard, insensible perspiration. The aim of breathable clothing is to move moisture away from the skin as quickly as possible and transport it to the outside air where it can evaporate. This inevitably causes heat loss. And as I have said, breathable shells may not work in severe weather conditions.
The vapor-barrier theory says that instead of trying to remove this moisture from the skin, you should try to keep it there so no more will be produced and the attendant evaporative heat loss will cease. You’ll stay warm, and your clothing will stay dry because it won’t have to deal with large amounts of liquid. To achieve this, you wear a nonbreathable waterproof layer either next to or close to the skin, with insulating layers over it. Because heat is trapped inside, you need less clothing.
Vapor barriers are most efficient in dry cold—in temperatures below freezing—because when humidity is high, heat loss by evaporation lessens anyway. By preventing moisture loss, vapor barriers also help stave off dehydration, a potentially serious problem in dry-cold conditions.
When I first read about vapor barriers, I thought that anyone using one would be soaked in sweat. But various reputable outdoors people said vapor barriers worked, so I decided to give the idea a try rather than reject it out of hand.
Apparently, if you have a hairy body, waterproof fabrics feel comfortable next to the skin. I haven’t, and the vapor barriers I’ve tried make me feel instantly clammy unless I wear something under them. Thin synthetic base layers are ideal for this. Initially I tried old nonbreathable light rain gear as a vapor-barrier suit. It was not a success for hiking, since I overheated rapidly and started to sweat even when the temperature was several degrees below freezing. It was superb as campwear, however. I was as warm wearing my vapor-barrier top under a fleece jacket as I was when wearing a down jacket over it. Wearing the vapor barrier in my sleeping bag added several degrees of warmth to the bag, and since the barrier was thin and had a slippery surface, it didn’t restrict me or make me uncomfortable.
I was impressed enough with these first experiments to buy a lighter, more comfortable vapor-barrier suit made from a soft-coated ripstop nylon that weighs just 7 ounces. The shirt has a zippered front and Velcro-closed cuffs; the trousers have a drawcord waist and Velcro closures at the ankles. Although the suit performs well, I haven’t used it for many years, even for sleeping in. Although I know it will keep me warm, I somehow don’t have real confidence in it. A down jacket looks warm, and carrying one is psychologically reassuring; two thin pieces of nylon just don’t have the same effect. I used to carry the vapor-barrier suit as an emergency backup in winter, but I haven’t even done that for many years.
Plastic bags, or thin plastic or rubber socks and gloves, can be worn on your feet and hands as vapor barriers. If your feet become very cold and wet, an emergency vapor barrier worn over dry thin socks with thicker socks over that does help them warm up. I used this combination near the end of my Canadian Rockies walk, when I had to ford a half-frozen river seven times within a few hours and then walk on frozen ground in boots that were splitting and socks with holes. Dry inner socks and plastic bags made a huge difference. Today, though, I prefer waterproof-breathable socks.
Few companies make vapor-barrier gear. The main one is Stephenson’s Warmlite, which offers shirts, pants, gloves, and socks in a fabric called Fuzzy Stuff, a stretchy, brushed nylon glued to a urethane film. The inside is said to feel like soft flannel and be far more comfortable against the skin than ordinary coated nylon. It wicks moisture and spreads it out for rapid drying. It sounds as though it should be far better than simple coated fabrics, and it’s probably the stuff to try if you want to see what vapor-barrier clothing is like.
What you wear on your legs is not as important as what you wear on your upper body, but comfort and protection from the weather still matter. Legwear needs to be either loose-fitting or stretchy, so that it doesn’t restrict movement.
Shorts are my favorite legwear. Nothing else provides the same freedom and comfort. If you keep your upper body warm, you can wear shorts in surprisingly cold conditions. Any shorts will do, as long as they have roomy legs that don’t bind the thighs. Many people wear cutoff jeans, a good way to use up worn-out clothing. Some people like close-fitting Lycra shorts, which can prevent rashes caused by your thighs’ rubbing together. Running shorts are the cheapest and lightest types (my 100 percent polyester shorts weigh just 2 ounces), but they’re flimsy and don’t stand up well to contact with granite boulders, rough logs, and other wilderness seats. I sometimes carry them on trips when I doubt I’ll wear shorts but want a pair in case the weather is gentler than expected. Shorts with liners can double as underpants.
When I’m planning to wear shorts, I prefer more substantial ones, preferably with pockets. For years I used polyester-cotton blend shorts (8 ounces) with lots of pockets and a double seat. They are very hardwearing—mine survived through-hikes of both the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. There are dozens of models; some are made from pure cotton, some from cotton and nylon, and some from 100 percent synthetics. Weights range from 4 to 16 ounces. Most shorts don’t feature built-in briefs, so you have to wear underpants or at least carry them for wearing under long pants. Most shorts also feel bulky and uncomfortable under trousers, which is further complicated by pockets and fly zippers. This is a minor point, but I like to be able to pull long pants on over my shorts when the weather changes. Having built-in briefs lets me keep my shorts on under long pants and saves the snippet of weight of underpants.
Back in 1988, at the start of my Canadian Rockies walk, I found some nearly ideal hiking shorts. Browsing in the outdoor stores in the town of Waterton, on the edge of Waterton Lakes National Park, I bought a pair of Patagonia Baggies shorts (5 ounces). I wore them for most of the next three and a half months and found them comfortable and durable. The wide-cut legs made them easy to walk in, the mesh liner meant underpants weren’t needed, and the nylon material dried quickly when wet. I went on to wear Baggies for a 1,000-mile Yukon walk and a 1,300-mile Scandinavian mountains walk, and over the years I’ve worn out several pairs. Baggies are still around and still excellent, but there are other good shorts. On a 500-mile hike in the High Sierra, I wore GoLite Terrain shorts (4 ounces), made from quick-dry nylon with a polyester crepe liner. These were just as comfortable as the Baggies.
Unfortunately, the weather is not always conducive to wearing shorts. During some summers I’ve hardly worn them at all. I always carry long pants in case the weather changes or insects or bushwhacking make wearing shorts masochistic. Around camp and in cold weather, you can wear synthetic long underwear under shorts. It doesn’t repel wind or insects, though, and I rarely wear it, since I have to remove my shorts to put it on. It’s much easier to pull pants on over shorts for extra warmth—and easier to take them off when you warm up. Long underwear is best for trips so cold that you wear it all day long.
Long pants fall into two categories: those that will be worn mostly in mild conditions but occasionally in storms, and those strictly for cold, stormy weather. Many people hike in jeans, even though they’re cold when wet and take ages to dry. These are potentially dangerous attributes in severe conditions, but wearing rain pants minimizes them. Other objections to cotton jeans are that they are heavy, tight, and not very durable. I find them so uncomfortable that I haven’t owned a pair for years.
Hot-weather clothing: sun hat, shirt, shorts, sandals. Squaw Lake, John Muir Wilderness, High Sierra.
For three-season use, there are masses of trail pants. Depending on the fabric and the design, these weigh from 4 to 25 ounces. Features may include double knees, double seats, and multiple pockets, many of them zippered. Some versions, often called wind pants, have full-length side zippers so they can be pulled on over boots and vented in warm weather. A few, like Marmot’s DriClime Side Zip Pants (12 ounces), also have wicking linings. The traditional and heaviest material for trail pants is 100 percent cotton. Cotton-polyester and cotton-nylon blends such as 65/35 are better; best are 100 percent synthetics, especially microfibers, because they are much lighter and faster drying, though just as hardwearing, windproof, and comfortable. I’ve worn trail pants on all my long walks, switching from polyester-cotton blends to microfibers when they became available. When I expect to wear shorts most of the time, I carry a very basic light pair of nylon pants. My favorites, the now-discontinued GoLite Trunk, weigh 8 ounces and have no features except hand-warmer pockets and elasticized ankles to keep out insects. The current equivalent are the nylon Valmont Pants with five pockets, which also weigh 8 ounces. If you really want to keep the weight down, Montane’s Featherlite Pants, made from Pertex Microlite nylon, are probably the lightest, at 3.8 ounces.
The Mountain Hardwear Convertible Pack Pants with zip-off legs.
When buying a pair of pants, the main thing to check is the fit. Some pants are styled for fashion rather than function and can be uncomfortable to hike in, especially uphill. I like elasticized waistbands rather than conventional belt loops because I don’t like wearing a belt under a pack hipbelt and I appreciate the stretchy waist when I feast in a restaurant after a long trip. I like to have at least one pocket with a snap or zipper for my wallet and money when traveling to and from the wilderness; large thigh pockets are good for carrying maps.
Trail pants with zip-off legs to convert them into shorts have become very popular. For years I viewed these as curiosities, but eventually I tried a pair and decided that, strange or not, they made sense, so I wore a pair on the Arizona Trail. I appreciated being able to simply zip on the legs when it got cool in the evening and then unzip them in the morning when it warmed up. However, if zip-offs are to be comfortable they need to be well designed and to fit properly. The big problem is that the zippers can rub. I tried on eighteen pairs and could feel the leg zippers on all but four. Only one pair was really comfortable—Mountain Hardwear Convertible Pack Pants. These seem to have actually been designed for hiking, unlike the others I tried. They’re made from a tough wind-proof and fast-drying nylon with a synthetic wicking waist lining and lower leg zippers so they can be pulled on and off over footwear. They allow great freedom of movement, with a crotch gusset and articulated knees, and the large pockets can be reached when wearing a pack hipbelt. They’re not that light at 16 ounces, though of course they replace both pants and shorts, and they’re quite expensive. They fit me, though, and look as though they’ll last a long while. I wear them if I’m not sure whether it will be too cool for shorts. On a fall trip to the White Mountains in New Hampshire they coped with snow, gale-force winds, rain, and below-freezing temperatures for a week before temperatures rose and the sun shone and I was able to zip the legs off. (The Pack Pants come without zip-off legs at a weight of 15 ounces.) There are plenty of other zip-offs, most of them less expensive than the Convertible Pack Pants. Remember, always check the fit.
Light pants are generally warm enough for moderate temperatures, those times when you’re just a little chilly in shorts. They’re not warm enough when the mercury drops toward freezing, however. If the weather turns really cold or mornings are frosty, I wear long underwear under them. With rain pants on top, the pants-base layer combination can cope with all but the worst winter weather while I’m on the move. Three layers are more versatile than one thick pair of pants when large variations in weather can be expected. In really cold conditions, you can wear thicker long underwear or fleece pants under long pants.
An alternative to trail pants and long underwear is a separate single pair of warm pants. I prefer these for constant wear in reliably cold conditions, since two or more layers are more restrictive and less comfortable than one. The obvious material is fleece, which is warm, light (typically 8 to 24 ounces), nonabsorbent, and quick drying. I don’t like thick fleece pants, however, because they’re not windproof, aren’t very light, and are bulky to pack. I’ve owned a pair of Helly Hansen nylon pile Polar Trousers (17 ounces) for many years but rarely use them because they require a pair of windproof pants over them in even the gentlest breeze, which then makes them too hot. Power Stretch tights are far better. My Lowe Alpine pair weighs 6.8 ounces. They’re very warm, very comfortable, repel breezes and light rain or snow, and can be worn under rain pants in cold, wet weather or under trail pants in strong winds. They function well over a wider temperature range than any other fleece pants I’ve tried. I’ve worn them on spring ski tours, but mostly I carry them for campwear in winter, preferring Páramo waterproof-breathable pants when moving.
Pants made from thick stretch nylon such as Spandura (a mix of Cordura and Lycra) or the various Schoeller fabrics are a good alternative to fleece. They repel snow, rain, and wind and are extremely hardwearing. I wore these for years for winter backpacking and ski touring until Páramo came along. They disappeared for a while but have had a resurgence of popularity under the guise of soft shells. Although I think these fabrics are too heavy and bulky for tops, they are ideal for cool-weather legwear. Some are light enough to be used in all but the hottest weather—when you can wear shorts anyway. Of the various types I’ve tried, I like the Mountain Hardwear Velocity pants, made from Schoeller Dynamic, one of the lighter soft-shell pants at 14 ounces. I wear them when it’s too warm for the Páramo pants but too cool for light trail pants or shorts. Pants made from stretch Gore Windstopper or Power Shield are totally wind-proof, almost waterproof, and pretty warm. They make a good alternative to Páramo pants. An excellent example are Mountain Hardwear’s Alchemy Pants (10.5 ounces), which are made from Windstopper with Power Shield panels. They have watertight side zippers for ventilation. Wind-stopper N2S pants are available too, but these don’t stretch, which I think is necessary in pants like this.
Wool or wool-blend pants used to be common; my first winter hiking pants were made of Derby tweed. They were warm but heavy, itchy, and very absorbent. When wet, they rubbed my inner thighs raw, and they took days to dry out. After my first weekend in stretch nylon pants, I never wore wool trousers again. Perhaps it’s no wonder wool pants are now hard to find.
For severe weather, you can get insulated pants. I’ve never been out in conditions cold enough to warrant even considering these (even at −30°F [−34°C] my Páramo trousers worn over Power Stretch tights were warm enough while I was moving), but you might like to know they exist. Not surprisingly, there isn’t a wide choice; Mountain Hardwear makes the Polarguard 3D-filled Chugach Pants (21 ounces); down pants include the light Nunatak Kabuk Pants (9 ounces with Pertex Microlite or EPIC shell) and the Marmot 8000 Meter Pants (34 ounces with a DryLoft shell). The latter have as much goose down in them as the lightest down sleeping bags! Vapor-barrier trousers worn over long johns and under fleece or pile and shell trousers would probably prove as warm as down ones.
A light fleece hat is useful year-round.
“If your feet are cold, put on a hat.” This adage was one of the first pieces of outdoor lore I ever learned. It’s also one of the most accurate.
When you start to get cold, your body protects its core by slowing down the blood supply to the extremities—fingers, toes, nose. However, your brain requires a constant supply of blood in order to function properly, so the circulation to your head is maintained. In cold weather, you can lose enormous amounts of heat through your head—up to 80 percent, according to some figures. The capillaries just below your scalp never close down to conserve heat like the ones in your hands and feet, so you must protect your head in order to keep your body warm.
But which hat? Long ago the choice was simple: the only material was wool, and the only styles were watch caps and balaclavas. Then came synthetic fabrics—nylon, polyester, acrylic. Designs didn’t change, though, until fleece became the main material for warm clothing and outdoor companies began employing designers to make their clothing more stylish.
Now outdoor hats come in a wild variety of colors and styles and every sort of material, including fleece, wicking synthetics, wool, and mixtures of everything. All these fabrics are warm and comfortable. I particularly like Power Stretch hats because the fabric is soft, comfortable, stretchy, very light, and quick drying. It resists light winds and rain and wicks moisture quickly.
Whatever the style, hats can be divided into two categories: those that are windproof and those (the majority) that aren’t. Windproof hats are made from windproof fleece such as Polartec Windbloc or Gore Windstopper or have an outer shell made from a waterproof-breathable or windproof fabric. In a really cold wind, any hat that isn’t wind-proof won’t keep you warm unless you put your hood up. Hats that aren’t windproof are more breathable and comfortable over a wider temperature range, though, making them better for milder weather than windproof hats.
The warmth of a hat is determined by both thickness and style. Whether it can be pulled down over the ears is important, since ears get cold easily. As with other clothing, the warmest hat isn’t always the best; one that will keep your head warm in a blizzard may be too hot for a cool evening at a summer camp. How much you feel the cold matters, too. I know people who are happy bareheaded when I need a hat; others wear balaclavas in what feels to me like warm weather.
The basic watch cap, stocking cap, or tuque is still the standard design. Add earflaps to it and you have a Peruvian or Andean hat. Most watch caps can be pulled down over the ears anyway. Balaclavas give more protection than other designs. Some neck gaiters have a drawcord so one end can be closed when they’re worn as a hat, while others are long enough to be worn as a balaclava. The best protection against wind and rain comes from the peaked cap, with earflaps and a fleece lining, sometimes known as a bomber cap. These protect the face from rain, snow, and sun and can be used in place of a jacket hood. There are also warm headbands, useful when a full hat isn’t needed but your ears feel chilly, and face masks or ski masks that cover all but the eyes and nostrils to give more protection than I’ve ever needed. Presumably they’re good in bitter cold and severe high-mountain blizzards. If necessary, a neck gaiter can be pulled up to cover the mouth and cheeks, something I’ve done on occasion.
A thick fleece hat with earflaps is excellent in cold weather.
Some hat styles come in several sizes, though many don’t. Because most fleece doesn’t stretch the way knitted wool or acrylic does, it’s important to get a good fit if you choose fleece headgear. Hats that are a bit tight are very uncomfortable after a few hours’ wear, but a hat that is too loose may blow off in a breeze. Chinstraps are useful to prevent this, especially for hats with peaks or brims that can catch the wind.
For many years I never wore a sun hat, even when hiking across the desert regions of Southern California and New Mexico in baking temperatures. I thought my thick head of hair shaded my head from the sun. However, though I still have the hair, I now find that a sun hat adds greatly to my comfort in hot, sunny weather. I was simply ignorant of the benefits of a hat. I used to wear a bandanna headband to keep sweat from dripping into my eyes, and I discovered that when soaked in cold water, it helped keep me cool. You can do the same with a hat, of course.
WARM HATS: MY CHOICES
Over the years I’ve collected a variety of warm hats for different weather conditions and times of year. In warm weather I carry a light fleece hat for campwear and in case of a cold snap. My current one weighs 2 ounces. It’s warm and comfortable and fits well under a hood in the rain. In cool weather I carry a second hat, partly in case I lose one, which could be serious in the cold. I’ve twice lost hats after foolishly tucking them into my hipbelt when I couldn’t be bothered to take off my pack and put them away. I try not to do this anymore, though I sometimes forget. I also like to have a hat that is wind- and waterproof as well as warm so that I don’t need to put up my rain jacket hood except in the worst weather. Fleece-lined waterproof-breathable caps with stiffened peaks keep rain off the face and have flaps that keep the ears warm. There are many such hats. I regularly use two: a 2.8-ounce Lowe Alpine Mountain Cap with Triplepoint Ceramic outer and fleece lining that is very warm and that I wear only in wintry conditions and a 2.5-ounce Páramo Cap, made from the same fabrics as the Páramo jackets, which isn’t as warm and therefore gets more use. Both hats work very well.
An interesting and versatile cap is the Hat for All Seasons from Outdoor Research, which makes a large range of hats of all types. This has a removable fleece inner layer and a Gore-Tex shell with a large stiffened peak and a wicking synthetic lining. Effectively it’s three hats in one: a fleece hat, a waterproof cap, and a fleece-lined waterproof cap. The total weight is 6.5 ounces. I bought one of these several years ago and took it on a couple of long winter trips and then for some reason never wore it again. To check the weight and remind myself what it’s like, I just fished it out of the hat box. It looks and feels good. I must use it again.
Down hats exist, too. Many years ago I bought one, but it’s too hot and the earflaps cut out sound, so I never use it while hiking, though every so often I consider taking it on cold-weather trips to sleep in. It weighs 4 ounces. I also find windproof fleece hats hot and far less breathable than lined waterproof caps. They cut out sound too.
In cool weather I often carry one of those light fabric tubes known as neck gaiters to replace one hat. This can be pulled over the head to form a thick collar or scarf and also worn as a balaclava or rolled up to make a hat. Over the years I’ve collected three of these made from polypro (2.5 ounces), Power Stretch fleece (1.5 ounces), and wicking microfiber polyester (1.5 ounces). I used to have a wool one, but it was too warm, so I passed it on to someone who felt the cold more. The stretchy microfiber neck gaiter is made by Buff, which makes more than 200 versions. Mine was a promotional item and has Buff written all over it in orange, which has limited my use of it—I’d prefer a boring dull-colored one. My stepdaughter uses it regularly, however. Someday I must get around to buying a plainer one, since it’s very useful. I sometimes carry a neck gaiter instead of my fleece hat in summer—it all depends on which I find first in my gear pile. A neck gaiter plus a hat provides almost the protection of a balaclava without the restrictiveness. Neck gaiters are also made in silk, which is probably excellent, and thick fleece, which will be very warm. Some balaclavas, like Outdoor Research’s Power Stretch Balaclava, can be pulled down to make a neck gaiter or rolled up to make a hat.
Waterproof-breathable hats with fleece linings and earflaps are excellent in storms and cold weather because they keep your head warm and protect it from wind and rain. Lowe Alpine Mountain Cap.
A neck gaiter such as this Buff model is very versatile. Here it’s worn as a simple hat.
Oddly enough, it was in the Far North on a 1,000-mile Yukon walk that I learned how useful a sun hat can be. I discovered the Canadian-made Tilley Hat, a cotton duck hat with a wide brim and a fairly high crown, reminiscent of an Australian bush hat. The instructions (it comes with a detailed leaflet!) say the fit should be loose—the double cords for the chin and the back of the head hold it on in windy weather. I bought a Tilley Hat, and it not only kept off the very hot summer sun but also repelled light rain, kept leaves and twigs out of my hair when I was bushwhacking, and held my head net in place when the bugs were bad. I liked wearing the Tilley Hat so much that I wore it when I didn’t really need to. The Tilley weighs 5.75 ounces and comes with a lifetime guarantee. Mine has now had more than a decade’s regular use. It’s faded and rather shapeless, but it’s a favorite piece of equipment because it carries so many memories. Tilley Hats come in different brim sizes. I have the standard one. The Ultimate Hat is very similar and is also available in synthetic fabrics, including Gore-Tex. I have one of those that I use for short hikes in wet, windless conditions. It’s quite light at 4 ounces, but it doesn’t make a good rain hat when it’s windy, since the rain just comes in under the brim and runs down my neck—when the hat doesn’t blow off. I’ve never taken it backpacking. Other companies also make synthetic brimmed hats, sometimes with reflective foil in the crown. Examples are Sequel’s cotton-mesh-foil Desert Shield (4 ounces) and Outdoor Research’s Supplex nylon Sahara Sombrero and Gore-Tex Seattle Sombrero. Wide-brimmed hats are great as long as it’s not too windy. A neck cord is essential to stop gusts from whipping them away. Many hats are white or light colored to reflect the sun. They need a dark underside to the brim to absorb reflected light so it doesn’t dazzle you. My Tilley’s brim is (or was) dark brown.
The alternatives to brimmed hats are caps with large visors and neck capes. Tucking a bandanna under the rim of a baseball cap gives much the same protection, though it’s difficult to keep in place unless you pin it there. The advantages over wide-brimmed hats are complete protection for the neck regardless of the angle of the sun and good wind resistance, though a neck cord is still a good idea. One of the first and best of these caps is the Sequel Desert Rhat, which is made from breathable mesh lined with a reflective foil, with a cotton front and a terry sweatband. The extra large, stiffened visor has a black underside to absorb reflected light. The cape is made from cotton and attaches with Velcro. It’s now my alternative to the Tilley Hat—it’s lighter (at 4 ounces) and easier to pack, so I carry it when I may not need a sun hat. I take the Tilley when I expect to wear it every day. There are masses of hats of the Desert Rhat style. Outdoor Research alone makes three. Some capes are permanently attached, some are detachable. I prefer the latter; it can get warm under the cape, so I often remove it. And a cape can be awkward if you wear the cap under a hood, as I sometimes do.
For rain there are caps made from waterproof-breathable fabrics like Gore-Tex. These are useful when fleece-lined waterproof caps are too warm, though you could just wear the Hat for All Seasons (see sidebar, page 170) and remove the fleece liner. Hats with earflaps stay on best in the wind and give more protection. I tried a Marmot PreCip Cap, which has no earflaps or neck cord. It was fine when there was no wind and the rain came straight down but blew off quickly in a breeze. Of course, in heavy wind-driven rain, nothing beats a jacket hood.
A sun hat with large peak and neck cape protects your face and neck from the sun. Sequel Desert Rhat.
Not only are cold hands painful and unpleasant, they can make the simplest task, like opening your pack or unwrapping a granola bar, very difficult. Whether to wear gloves or mittens depends on how cold your hands get. Gloves aren’t as warm as mittens because your fingers are separated, but mittens decrease dexterity, and you have to pull them off for all sorts of fine tasks. Those who suffer from cold hands usually prefer mittens. I like gloves because I can do most things with them on. (If your hands do get very cold, a good way to warm them up is to swing your arms in circles as fast as possible—this sends blood rushing to your fingertips and quickly, if a little painfully, restores feeling and warmth.)
Gloves or mittens have either gauntlet-type wrists designed to go over jacket sleeves or elasticized cuffs designed to go inside sleeves. Gauntlets are best if you use trekking or ski poles because snow and rain can’t be blown up your sleeves. If you don’t use poles, cuffs are better, since water running down your sleeves can’t run into your gloves. Check too that gloves fit neatly over or under your jacket sleeves. Some types don’t match up.
Except in reliably warm weather, I carry at least one pair of liner gloves. These are thin enough to wear while doing things like pitching the tent or taking photographs. At 1 to 2 ounces a pair, they’re hardly noticeable in the pack. They don’t last long if worn regularly, though. Gloves with reinforcements on the fingers and palms are the most durable, though slightly heavier than plain ones. There are wool, silk, and synthetic versions. The natural fabrics are good for handling hot pots and stoves and putting wood on a fire because they don’t melt as synthetics do. Most of these gloves aren’t very water resistant and don’t dry fast. If you want to wear liner gloves in the rain, SealSkinz makes thin waterproof ones (3 ounces) from the same fabric as its socks (see pages 78–79). These are useful when handling wet gear like trekking poles or tents, and I carry them in mild weather if rain is likely.
Thin windproof gloves (top left), waterproof shell gloves (top right), and pile liner gloves (bottom).
In cold temperatures, thicker mittens or gloves are essential. For many years I used gloves made from boiled wool. Boiling shrinks the wool fibers to make a dense fabric that increases wind and water resistance so a shell glove isn’t needed. Once wet, they’re slow to dry, however. Austrian-made Dachstein Mitts (6 ounces) are the classic example. Climb High’s Himalayan Mitts, also from Austria, are very similar. There are plenty of other wool gloves and mittens, both boiled and not. I stopped wearing boiled wool gloves when my last pair wore out between the thumb and forefinger, a major wear point if you use trekking poles, ski poles, or an ice ax. Just to try a new fabric, I replaced them with windproof fleece gloves, which I found more windproof but not as warm. I could do much more with my hands while wearing them, though, because they were thinner. However, they wore out at the base of the fingers and thumb even faster than the wool gloves did. Fleece gloves that aren’t windproof are just as fragile. Fortunately, plenty of wool and windproof fleece gloves and mittens now come with reinforcements on the fingers and palms that make them much more durable. I mostly use windproof fleece gloves made from Gore Windstopper or Polartec Windbloc. The thinnest are very light (2 to 3 ounces) and allow excellent dexterity. They’re not especially warm, though, and they make a good windproof alternative to liner gloves. The thickest ones with plush pile inside and a smooth fleece outside, such as Mountain Hardwear’s Windstopper Windshear Gloves (4 ounces), are very warm. Some fleece and wool mittens have a flip-back cover that lets you use your fingers without taking your mittens off.
Although they’re synthetic, fleece gloves don’t dry very fast, so it’s best to keep them dry by wearing waterproof-breathable shell mittens over them in the rain. These weigh from 1.5 to 8 ounces. You can’t do much with them on, but they do keep your inner gloves dry and your hands warm. Reinforcements on the palms increase durability.
While you can put together your own glove systems, many companies offer two-layer systems consisting of wool or fleece inner gloves or mittens and waterproof-breathable shells. The great advantage of these is that the two layers are designed to fit together, but some soft fleece inner gloves wear out quickly if worn without the shell.
When severe cold is expected, I wear Black Diamond Shell Gloves with thick Retro Pile inner gloves. I bought them because the inner gloves are the thickest I’ve seen. Together, they weigh 9.5 ounces (shells 5.5 ounces, inner gloves 4 ounces) and have long, gauntlet-type wrists. They have kept my hands warm in temperatures as low as −30°F (−34°C). I use them mainly in short stints of up to an hour or so if my hands are feeling very cold, changing to lighter gloves once my hands warm up. The outers of the Black Diamonds are waterproof but not breathable, which means they can get a bit damp; however, because you can pull out the inner gloves, they dry quickly. The nearest current model is the 9.5-ounce Black Diamond Stratos with a waterproof shell with stretch fabric on the fingers for dexterity and a Polartec Thermal Pro fleece inner glove.
Combining the shell and the insulation in one glove or mitten is the alternative to a glove system. The insulation may be down, wool, fleece, or a synthetic fill. Primaloft One is probably the best of the synthetics, being very soft and comfortable and quite water resistant. The shell may be a waterproof-breathable fabric like Gore-Tex or a water-resistant windproof material. These gloves are usually very warm and great for real cold. They’re not very versatile, however. A separate shell can be worn over a lighter inner glove in mild conditions, a useful advantage. I have a pair of Mountain Hardwear Exposure Gloves with Primaloft One insulation. As you’d expect from Mountain Hardwear, they are not a simple design. They have a waterproof-breathable Conduit shell and a Gore-Tex insert plus tough reinforcement material called Duraguard on the palm and fingers, curved fingers with no seams over the tips, a wrist leash, and a chamois nose wipe on the thumbs. They’re about as warm as heavy fleece gloves but also totally waterproof. They weigh 8 ounces. Mine came with removable fleece inner gloves. The current model, the Exposure II, doesn’t have these and weighs an ounce less. It’s not a loss, since the fleece gloves wore out very quickly. The Exposure gloves are excellent in wet cold, and I carry them when I think the Black Diamond ones will be too warm. They are expensive, though.
To sum up, I carry liner gloves year-round, supplementing them with windproof fleece gloves and waterproof-breathable shells in cool weather. If it’s very cold I carry shells with removable pile inner gloves or Primaloft-insulated gloves, the windproof fleece gloves, and the liners, leaving the shell mittens behind. There are many makers of excellent gloves. Manzella and Outdoor Research have large ranges, and SmartWool makes some good-looking wool ones.
Losing a mitten or a glove in bad weather can have serious consequences. Once long ago, while getting something out of my pack, I dropped a wool mitten that I’d tucked under my arm. Before I could grab it, the wind whisked it away into the gray, snow-filled sky. Luckily I was about to descend into the warmth of a valley a short distance away. Even so, my hand, clad in just a liner glove, was very cold by the time I reached shelter. Since then I’ve adopted two precautions. One is to attach loops (“idiot loops”) of thin elastic shock cord to my gloves so that they dangle from my wrists when I take them off. Many gloves now come with D-rings or other attachments for wrist loops; others come with the loops already attached. My second precaution is to carry a spare pair of mittens or gloves on any trip where cold weather is likely.
In an emergency, you can wear spare socks on your hands. I used this ploy at the end of a Canadian Rockies walk during a bitterly cold blizzard, when my hands weren’t warm enough even in wool mittens and liner gloves. With thick socks added, my hands went from achingly cold to comfortably warm, almost hot. Unfortunately, if your feet are cold, the reverse isn’t possible!
Although not really clothing, a bandanna is quite useful. This 1-ounce square of cotton can be a headband, brow wiper, handkerchief, potholder, bandage, dishcloth, washcloth, towel, napkin, or cape for protecting your neck from the sun. I usually carry two, keeping one threaded through a loop on my pack shoulder strap so I can wipe sweat off my face whenever necessary. I rinse them out frequently and tie them to the back of the pack to dry.
Warm and waterproof Mountain Hardwear Exposure Gloves.
Stuff sacks are ideal for storing clothing in the pack. They weigh from 0.5 to 8 ounces, depending on size and the thickness of the material—thin ones are fine for use inside the pack. My preference are GoLite silicone-nylon sacks (see Covers, Liners, and Stuff Sacks in Chapter 4). I usually carry spare clothing in a stuff sack in the lower compartment of the pack. If I carry a down jacket, it has its own stuff sack for extra protection. Dry dirty clothing usually languishes in a plastic bag at the very bottom of the pack. Rain gear and clothing I may need during the day (windshirt or warm top) moves around according to how much space I have, sometimes traveling at the very top of the pack, other times at the front of the lower compartment. I don’t put these garments in stuff sacks, since they can more easily fill out gaps when packed loose. Headgear and gloves go in a pack pocket, usually the top one.
You need to be careful when washing outdoor garments. Many fabrics that are tough in the field can be damaged by detergents, softeners, and too much heat. Most fabrics function best if they’re kept as clean as possible, but a few materials can be worn out by too much washing. Down in particular will lose some loft every time it’s washed, and wool loses natural oils. I sometimes sponge stains and dirty marks off the shells of down garments, but I have never washed one. I’d rather send my down jacket away for professional cleaning than risk damaging it by doing it myself. Your local outdoor store should know of companies that do this. If not, ask the garment maker. If you do wash a down top yourself, you need to use a product that won’t harm the down, like Nikwax Loft Down Wash.
The other items that need special treatment are those with durable water-repellent treatments (DWR), such as all waterproof-breathable garments, most wind shells and soft shells, and some fleeces. Dirt impairs water repellency, so it’s best to sponge or wipe it off as soon as possible. When water-repellent garments need washing, don’t use detergents, not even mild, environmentally friendly types like Ecover, since they can damage water repellency and also leave a residue in the fabric that attracts moisture. (That’s why detergent is so effective at cleaning, of course—it pulls water through fabrics.) Instead, garments should be washed with a soap such as Nikwax Loft Tech Wash, Granger’s Extreme Cleaner Plus, Blue Magic Tectron Pro Wash, Dri-Pak soap flakes, or Dr. Bronner’s liquid soap. These can all be used in washing machines, though you need to remove and clean the detergent dispenser and run a rinse cycle or two to make sure there’s no detergent left in the machine. If you do wash garments in detergent, rinsing them is not enough to get all the detergent out, no matter how many times you do it and no matter what the labels on the garments say. I no longer wash any garment with a water-repellent finish in detergent. Unfortunately, some garment washing instructions say detergent is OK. If you use detergent, you then need to wash the garment in liquid soap to remove detergent traces. The DWR may still be damaged and need reviving or replacing. Don’t have water-repellent garments dry-cleaned either—the solvents strip off all DWR.
Even if you use soap, DWR treatments will cease to work in time—after about ten washes, according to Granger’s. When this happens, dark, damp patches appear on the outside of the garment as it starts to absorb moisture, a process known as wetting out. Moisture absorption adds to weight and drying time and impairs breathability; condensation makes many wearers think their garments are leaking. Much work has gone into creating better DWR treatments. They certainly last much longer now than when they were first introduced, but they’re not permanent.
Garments with water-repellent finishes should be washed in soap products like these, not detergent, since detergents can damage the water repellency.
Care products for hiking garments can enhance and restore water repellency.
Water repellency can be revived with heat, which melts the original DWR and spreads it over the fabric. You can put the garment in a dryer, iron it, or even run a hair dryer over it. Keep the heat settings low so you don’t melt the fabric as well as the DWR. If you tumble-dry clothing, make sure all zippers are done up and flaps closed to minimize damage. One test showed that tumble-drying often damages coatings and membranes, leading to eventual leakage. Using an iron or a hair dryer is much safer. If applying heat doesn’t restore the DWR, then it needs replacing, which can be done with a wash-in waterproofing treatment like Nikwax TX, Granger’s Extreme Synthetics, or Blue Magic Tectron Wash-In Waterproofer. Check that you have the right treatment product for your garment. Nikwax makes TX-Direct for waterproof-breathable garments; PolarProof for fleece, synthetic insulation, and wool; and Cotton Proof and Soft Shell for those materials. Consult the label before treating garments. With some products that have wicking linings—lined rain gear and wind shells—only the outer should be treated, as DWR treatments can affect the wicking properties. For these garments you need a spray treatment such as Granger’s XT Water Repellent Spray, Granger’s Extreme UV Spray-On and Nikwax TX-Direct Spray-On.
During a trip, garment care is minimal; in cold and wet weather, it’s nonexistent. On walks of a week or less, I never wash anything; on longer ones, I rinse out underwear, socks, and any really grubby items every week or so, as long as it’s sunny enough for them to dry quickly. I don’t wash laundry in a stream or lake, of course; I fill a cooking pot (and clean it well afterward!) or even a waterproof stuff sack, using water from my large camp water container. The aim is to get rid of sweat, rather than stains and marks, so the garment functions again rather than looks smart. I don’t use soap for washing, since it can pollute. If you do, biodegradable soap is best and soapy wastewater should be poured into dry ground well away from streams or lakes. You can dry garments on a length of cord strung between two bushes or on the back of the pack as you walk. On walks lasting more than a few weeks, I try to find a laundromat when I stop in a town to pick up supplies. I don’t carry fabrics, like silk, that require special care, because I want to do one load and then tumble it dry on a hot setting. Because of the effect detergents can have on water-repellent treatments, I don’t wash any garments with a DWR finish in a laundromat unless I can find some soap powder.
Most outdoor clothing can be stored flat in drawers, but down- and synthetic-filled garments should be kept uncompressed on hangers so they maintain their full loft; even slight prolonged compression may permanently affect the loft of synthetic fills. Check zippers and fastenings before you put garments away, and make necessary repairs. It’s irritating to discover that a zipper needs replacing when you’re packing hastily for a trip.