The world of camping gear was a revelation to Mark. After the computer in the family room had been linked up to the DSL connection, Mark discovered more than a dozen terrific stores on the web that specialized in getting people ready to deal with Mother Nature. Eastern Mountain Sports, Mountain Equipment Co-Op, L.L. Bean, Sierra Outfitters—the list went on and on.
Mark’s favorite was REI—Recreational Equipment Incorporated. The REI Web site was organized by activities, and each category branched off into a tantalizing selection of gadgets and tools and necessities for enjoying time in the great outdoors. Tents, sleeping bags, rock climbing gear, mountain bikes, kayaks and canoes, camping stoves, knives, communication equipment, maps and direction finders, shoes and boots of every imaginable kind, sunglasses and binoculars, and an endless assortment of different kinds of special outdoor clothing. The variety was overwhelming.
On Sunday morning when his mom called from London, Mark told her about how he had camped out with Leon Friday night. Then he said, “I really want to do a lot of overnight trips at camp this summer, maybe even do the ten-day mountain trip in Maine. I looked at the booklet from camp, and it says if you’re twelve, it’s all right—and I’ll be twelve in June.”
“Well, we can certainly talk about that, Mark,” his mom said. Mark could tell she didn’t like the idea. But she hadn’t said no, so that was okay, and it was the perfect opening for what he really wanted to ask her.
Mark said, “Well, since I want to get into camping, I’ve been looking at some catalogs that have equipment and stuff. So would it be okay if I got some gear, just so I could be ready? In case I get to go on some overnights this summer?”
And just like he knew she would, his mom said, “Why, of course you may, dear. Get whatever you think you need. When I talk to Anya I’ll ask her to let you use the American Express card. Just promise me you won’t get anything that’s dangerous, all right? No big knives . . . or axes—nothing like that, all right?”
Mark said, “Nothing like that, I promise. I just want to learn how to be a good camper, that’s all.”
“Well, I think that’s wonderful, dear.”
Late Sunday afternoon, Mark turned on the Mac. Then he opened up the browser and clicked on the REI Web site. And he realized he had a problem. His problem was that he wanted everything. And thanks to his mom’s credit card, he could actually afford everything. Well, not everything, but there were still way too many choices.
Mark had to decide what he really needed. So he opened a new window in the browser, clicked on a search engine, and typed in “camping essentials.” On the second page of listings, he found a web page put together by a guy from Wyoming who taught outdoor survival classes. He called himself “Mr. Survival.” He had organized his list of essential gear by looking at the greatest dangers people usually face if they get lost in the wilderness.
The first danger on his list was getting too cold—or too hot. So he had a section of information about clothing layers, and choosing the right socks and footwear. Mark felt proud that he’d already figured out those things on his own. Mr. Survival also recommended carrying a plastic “space blanket.” You could put the shiny side in to keep warm, or put the shiny side out to keep the sun off. It would also shed rain or snow.
Next on the danger list came thirst and hunger. He recommended carrying at least two water bottles and also having a way to purify more. Mr. Survival’s personal favorite was a tiny bottle of liquid iodine drops. He wrote,
You can scoop water right out of a stream or even a puddle, add a few drops of iodine, wait ten minutes, and take a drink. It might taste bad, but you won’t get sick from germs or parasites, and most importantly, you won’t get weak from dehydration or die of thirst.
About hunger, he said,
Even a day-hiker should carry five or six energy bars and two or three regular candy bars. A candy bar doesn’t weigh much, and it might just give you that jolt of energy you need to get yourself up out of the ravine you fell into.
The list went on:
• Take at least two ways to make fire, plus a fire starter.
Best emergency fire maker: a magnesium block and a striker made from three inches of hacksaw blade. Direct a shower of sparks onto some scrapings from the block.
Best fire starter: cotton balls covered with petroleum jelly—ten will stuff into one plastic film container. If you don’t have this, use finely shredded birch bark, dry grass, lint from your socks, or a candy bar wrapper.
• Take a compass, and know how to use it.
• Take a small waterproof flashlight or headlamp—and extra batteries.
• Take a pocketknife.
• Take a loud whistle, like a lifeguard’s whistle, to help others find you if you get lost or separated.
• Take a dozen cloth-strip Band-Aids and a small roll of duct tape for cuts or foot blisters.
• Take a small magnifying glass for map reading or starting a fire.
• Take two zip-seal plastic bags for carrying water.
• Take a roll of dental floss or other strong, light cord—at least a hundred feet—and a strong sewing needle.
After reading what Mr. Survival had to say, Mark felt ready to start shopping. He clicked back to the REI Web site, and started filling his online shopping basket.
First he picked out a new sleeping bag. The one he’d been using had been to summer camp three times. It was plenty warm, but it weighed too much. The new bag Mark picked out was filled with goose down. It weighed less than three pounds and packed up into a thin, tight roll.
The next essential item was a pack—not a simple backpack, but a framepack. Mark had used one at camp last summer. It was called a framepack because it had a built-in frame of metal or fiberglass to keep it stiff and spread out the weight of a load in the best way possible. After reading the descriptions of about ten different packs, Mark looked at a chart and picked the one that was best for a person of his height and weight.
From about twenty different kinds of flashlights, he picked a Mini-Maglite that used AA batteries. He also chose a headlamp, like a flashlight on a head strap. The one he picked had three different levels of brightness, and would run for anywhere from 12 to 150 hours on three AAA batteries.
The magnesium fire-starting bar seemed kind of silly to Mark. Why bother carrying that if you already have matches or a lighter? He flipped back to Mr. Survival’s Web page and clicked on the link about fire making. And Mr. Survival made it simple:
Matches go bad or get wet, even the waterproof kind. Lighters rust or break or leak. Some magnesium scrapings and a shower of sparks from a bit of hacksaw blade will always work, no matter how long you’ve had them and no matter whether it’s raining or snowing or ten below zero.
So Mark clicked on the magnesium fire block with the built-in striker bar and put it into his online shopping basket.
Even though Mark knew he wouldn’t be allowed to use it by himself, he picked out a little gas-powered cooking stove anyway. And then he found a good compass, a pair of lightweight binoculars, and six pairs of special “moisture wicking” hiking socks. Plus a dozen chocolate chip energy bars.
He looked at the boots, but the Italian hiking boots he had gotten before camp last summer still fit perfectly, and they were all broken in, too.
When Mark went to the page that showed the knives, he remembered what his mom had made him promise. She’d said no big knives or axes. But she hadn’t said he couldn’t get a smaller knife. After all, his dad had already given him a Swiss Army knife for Christmas two years ago. So Mark picked out a lightweight knife with a black plastic handle and a single blade that locked open. Definitely not a big knife.
He could have kept finding great stuff all evening, but Mark felt like he’d better stop. He clicked on his shopping basket, and then on the “checkout” box. The total amount came to more than eleven hundred dollars!
Mark stared at the number. Eleven hundred dollars was a lot of money. He started to look at the list of things he’d chosen, trying to figure out which ones to put back.
Then Mark remembered the skis and boots and poles his dad had helped him pick out when they went to Aspen that time. Plus the jacket and goggles and gloves. Mark had used those skis for less than a week, and now all that equipment was lying in a closet back in Scarsdale, too small to ever use again. And those things had cost his dad more than nine hundred bucks.
So getting all this stuff for only eleven hundred? Suddenly that seemed like a bargain. And Mark knew he wouldn’t be using these things for only a week or two, either.
He quickly filled in the shipping information, typed in his mom’s credit card number, and clicked on the Buy Now button. Less than ten seconds later a confirmation screen appeared and promised that the purchased items would be delivered to his house by Federal Express on Tuesday afternoon.
Mark printed a copy of the confirmation page, closed the browser, and shut down the computer.
Then he went to the kitchen to get himself a snack. All that shopping had made him hungry.