Cold-Tested Grease for Rear Hubs

I just had my Mukluk built up with ultra-fancy-blingy Six 1 Six hubs, made in Grand Rapids, MI. They come packed with 'Morningstar Soup,' rated from -50 to 140 F. Herein lies the problem.

(Winterizing is putting very little extremely thin grease/almost no grease at all on the pawls in the rear hub so they engage at 0F & colder. If hubs are packed, per se, with any grease, the extreme cold causes the grease to gum up, which prevents the pawls from engaging.)

I left my bike in the back of my van during the day, while parked at work. When I got it out to show a co-worker at the end of the day, the rear hub didn't engage - it slipped many times - meaning the pawls didn't catch, i.e., the grease used to 'winterize' the hub doesn't work/there was too much grease in the rear hub. It was -15F, not -50F.
I went straight to the LBS to find a friend who built a set of fat wheels with the other set of hubs that came and he had the same problem - lots of slipping and failing to engage.
After this, I went on two different -5 to +5 F rides and had my rear hub fail to engage, continually, many times on each ride. 

As it turns out, Six 1 Six simply injects their hubs with the Morningstar Soup, inundating the hub with it and forcing out all the normal grease. This means the hubs are literally full of grease, and, therefore, will not work in the cold. Even though the lube is rated to -50F, there is way too much in there and it needs to be removed, leaving a very thin film of grease.

I've heard a lot of contradicting stories this past week about Six 1 Six, Soup, and both's effectiveness/quality.
All I can say is shops in Anchorage stopped using Soup and there are internet stories of Six 1 Six hubs 'shitting the bed shortly' after being built, but one extremely accomplished rider has used Soup on at least 6 ITIs down to -60F and Lubriplate Mag-1 grease has been proven to work for over a decade in the coldest temperatures.

My hubs are now sporting a thin film of Mag-1, winterized by hand, not by a syringe.

Make your own judgements and 'wear some comfy walking shoes.'

Stupid Light

I'm about to take off for a one-nighter hike-in, packraft-out trip into the Alaska Range and what do I come across?
An awesome blog post by Andrew Skurka about going 'Stupid Light.'

I was trying to go as simple and light as possible, and even leave behind normal things that simple & light me would usually take...
Now, I'm having second thoughts.

Here's an example of Stupid Light


Excellent stories and examples of why we should all assess what is truly 'worth it' for every trip.

The Appropriate Tool for the Job

Highway commuting with a 350 diesel truck, jacked up with big mud tires.
Got the image? Now maybe you'll get my point below.

Bikes are tools... but they're different from many tools in that they can provide vast amounts of enjoyment, regardless of the amount of effort we put into using them. But like all tools, there is an appropriate one for each project, job, purpose, etc.
This is a rant of frustration and of support. Frustration in the sense of how many people are riding fatbikes where fatbikes are not necessary (read: appropriate) and in support in the sense of where they are designed to be used or ridden, including promotion of riding bikes in general. Fatbike popularity has skyrocketed in the past year. They are dominating winter bike races, causing an almost disappearance of 26 & 29 inchers, and being taken to places where people never thought bikes could go. At the same time, thousands of people are riding them on singletrack and on city streets. Isn't there a better bike for these applications?
I will say now that anyone is free to ride whatever bike anywhere, but I will also say, from experience, that you'll be missing out some by not using the appropriate tool for the job, even though, I admit, fatbikes are fun to ride everywhere... even pushing them is moderately enjoyable, at least in the places I've pushed mine for a hundred miles or so.

I like to ride long distances in remote places, so maybe my perspective is a little skewed... Before I got my fatbike, I wasn't much of a biker. I liked to hike, even when I owned a 29er on Snow Cats, as it wasn't the right tool to replace my own two feet for the places I like to explore. When I got my fatbike, I started racing and doing bigger remote & self-supported Alaskan trips in the winter, mostly 100 miles or more. Now, my entire summer is planned out with four 100+ mile off-trail fatbiking trips in Alaska. I'm sure I'll get plenty of hiking in, i.e., taking my bike for a walk.

I'll start this rant with the biggest aggravation to nearly every Alaskan rider I have talked or ridden with in the last six months:
This past winter has marked the explosion of fatbikes into the mainstream bike world. Coincidentally, the Lower 48 did not receive 'winter' for more than 5 days... at least not in the Midwest, where 95% of fatbike blog posts, stories, reviews, articles, ride reports, and the like are coming from. There is no legitimacy to these (specific) writings about how well the tires or certain fatbike models perform on 'dry leaves,' as a lot of us up here jokingly say. Why are people writing about the application of fatbikes (designed for sand, snow, & off-trail) outside of their intended purpose? The misuse of fatbikes is being perpetuated over the internet.
Would you buy a copy of a mountain bike magazine twice if all their articles revolved around pavement or dirt road riding and not singletrack? Or what about a road biking website that never talked about riding roads, just about gear and being a roadie? Both are not experts in that field, I'd say.

12 miles to work at -49F

I don't mean to offend anyone for any riding or writing they've done, wherever they live or in whatever conditions they experience, but I read one blog post this past winter, talking about how he'd stop at every traffic light and 'take a sip of hot brew to warm up.' It was 14 degrees above zero! When I read this article, it hadn't gotten ABOVE minus-30 degrees Fahrenheit at my cabin for three weeks straight. Are you serious? A buddy had just told me how funny it was that his rear wheel wouldn't even make one complete revolution when he picked up his bike and spun the tire, simply because it was so cold. And yes, his wheels are winterized.
Duck for cover if you have to ask what that means.

My point with this post? Fatbikes are snowbikes. But they were originally designed for sand... in Texas. Most appropriately, they're designed to be ridden off-trail (except in winter, when on-trail is where they shine, as opposed to where most bikes completely fail). They are slower and heavier than other mountain bikes and built for the ability to ride when other bikes cannot. While they are not built for speed, they are a BLAST to ride just about anywhere, which could explain their popularity, even in urban settings.
Could rough-road touring overseas be added to the appropriate usage list?

In Alaska, fatbikes have seen extensive usage in all seasons. Most notably are the famous Lost Coast adventures of The Captain and Dylan, with Roman, Doom, & Mike in tow, most recently. The wildest shoreline in possibly all of North America? Hundreds of miles of beaches and cobble? No trails? Perfect for a fatbike. Exactly what the original was designed for, actually.
Winter snowbike races are where fatbikes excel in winter. Sure, you don't always need a fatbike and yes, a 29er on Snow Cats is lighter and potentially faster and have and will continue to win some winter races (in ideal, firm snow conditions), but if it snows the night before the start, you can still beat the skiers if you're on a fatbike. Those sticking to 29ers for winter racing might as well hand the trophy to the best skier at the start line.
Some people downstates have found their best use, too. This guy rides in Minnesota and even came up to AK to test a protoype. And Dave is practicing for bigger things next year... IN ALASKA! I plan to be with him. Ooh, the anticipation!
THESE are the people that should be writing about fatbikes and their abilities and usage and giving reviews about how they and their components perform.
This isn't about if you're not riding in Alaska, you're misusing fatbikes... fatbikes are awesome tools for exploring the world! There's 700K people in Alaska, which is 1/5th the size of the Lower 48. There's SO MUCH terrain perfect for fatbiking in Alaska and many other countries that it seems strange for us (Alaskans) to think of using fatbikes downstates. Anyone down there just needs to search a little harder for ideal fatbiking ground than we do in the more remote & wild sections of the world.

Why are people riding them on singletrack? Or through town on dry pavement? Or commuting? Or on icy roads? Or even racing them on-trail in non-snow/sand conditions? Or to the extent of fatbikes being their only bike for all riding purposes?
It seems like, in most places, people are dying to find a legit use of fatbikes simply because they are so much fun to ride or because they think fatbikes are cool. They are, but again, think of the jacked up diesel with mud tires on the highway...
Fatbikes are a niche tool, designed for soft substrates where maximum flotation is necessary to be able to ride. Just like how road bikes are meant for roads, mountain bikes for singletrack, bmx for punk-kid riding, and sit-up cruisers for old people who want to relax, fatbikes have their niche or appropriate usage, too. But let out some air and go rip some singletrack with 8 psi and you might start changing your mind about their niche-ness.

In the video below, I ask you if a fatbike is really needed? I argue no, as you could carry any bike across this creek instead of trying to ride across and get water in both hubs and the bottom bracket... but you'd miss out on some fun if carrying.



Fatbikes are fun to ride anywhere, yes... but, I tried my Pugsley on singletrack once... it was slow and heavy, but it did absorb the roots and rocks a little better because of the volume of the tires, giving it a much more comfortable ride. Yes, I commute to work on my Pugsley, too... in winter, on soft snow-covered trails. Fairbanks streets are covered in ice from November 1 to mid-March when studded tires on a 29er are way better than fatbikes, but I avoid the streets and opt for the quiet trails. The Midwest is even slicker, as our temperatures stay well below zero all winter, but their's swing up to and around freezing often, causing water to form on the surface of the ice. So why so many fatbikes downstates and not studded 29ers? Ride quality.
And who would think a 30 lb fatbike could keep up with a 22 lb cross-country race bike? Unless you're riding really rough or soft stuff or off-trail, I'd say there's no way. Pretty fun to try and compete on a fatbike but winter snowy trail bike races are the only races fatbikes will win... unless someone comes up with a race where you're crossing the Gobi Desert or something like that... or maybe the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic... but still.

To argue from the other end of the spectrum, disregard everything I'm ranting about and go ride whatever bike you have or want. It's good for you. Ride what you can afford to... all year long.
And on that note, in contrast to riding what's appropriate, I admit I have taken my Specialized Rockhopper 29er and turned it into a commuter. I swapped big lugs for flat-proof slicks. I put on less aggressive handlebars and a cushier seat. I also made it rigid up front with a carbon fork and single-speed in the rear, via a Surly Singleator.
Is it ideal? No, hardly. Does it work? Sure, I like the mountain geometry better than road or urban, as it's more my style and if it's nasty riding, I can just put the mountain tires back on. But just like fatbikes work for dirt roads, something else would be better for commuting. In my case, I couldn't afford to buy another bike, so I took the one I had (and didn't have a use for after getting my fatbike) and turned it into what I wanted... a tool with a distinct purpose. I'd rather have a steel frame to absorb more of the bumps and braze-ons for adding a rear rack easily, but hey, it's there in my living room, hanging, and ready to be ridden to work this week and didn't cost me anything extra, much unlike a new fatbike ridden not on snow, sand, or off-trail. I bought a fatbike to ride with the purpose they were designed for, hence my frustration, or maybe lack of complete understanding, with the thousands being ridden on hard surfaces and established trails.

Will you still see me riding my fatbike on rough dirt roads, especially in Alaska? You bet. I think rough dirt road touring could be the one application outside of what fatbikes are designed for where they do very well and could be about as good as any other bike. They're fun & comfortable bikes, which I think is the main reason so many people are riding them for so many purposes. With all that air in those wide tires, they smooth out the miles of washboard quite nicely and are very stable in loose and large gravel. Is it the ideal bike for dirt road touring? No, but it's pretty good for it, mostly where the dirt roads are very poorly maintained, and I also don't have a touring bike.

Here are three videos, all by the same dude, who has done thousands of miles of fatbiking in Alaska in summer & winter.
The videos show where fatbikes aren't necessary, are the only bike possible, and also where they may not belong... in that order:




Did I argue in a circle and contradict myself multiple times? Probably; it's a rant. But, I hope you get the point. Sure, I'll admit, fatbikes are a blast to ride, anywhere, anytime. I even started a fatbike rental company with my buddy, in order to get more people on them and show how much fun they are. But our whole business plan revolves around snowy trails in winter and off-trail riding in summer... not in places where other bikes already shine. And I would never tell someone to go buy a fatbike if I didn't think they were going to use it on snow trails or river beds, etc, in the summer.

The underlying message is this...
Fatbike popularity is skyrocketing. They are starting to be seen everywhere, especially downstates, where there is seemingly very little usage for them in such a civilized & developed (read: trail-filled and paved) world. Please don't waste your time trying to tell the world how good fatbikes do where another tool (bike) would be more appropriate... because that's the whole reason fatbikes exist - no other bike can do what they do, where and when they're designed to be ridden. Yes, you can ride any bike anywhere, with varying degrees of enjoyment and success, but don't try and argue how good your jacked up monster truck is for commuting on the highway. If you use it in the mountains or for real off-trail exploration, I'm all ears because you're testing it for what it was designed for, with the one exception I see as rough dirt road touring.

Maybe the conditions and available summer off-trail wilderness & winter snow trail riding opportunities up here in Alaska are so far removed from what 98% of people experience that WE are the ones giving slanted reviews and putting unfair expectations out there.
Let's just not make fatbiking the new snowboarding, as I don't want to be associated with any image or style, other than that which embodies the vision to ride expeditiously where no bike has ever tread before.

To hammer my point farther, no one can do THIS with a road, track, mountain, fat, or whatever-bike. There is only one appropriate tool:


Although, maybe time will prove otherwise...

Gearing Up For A Change

I had an epiphany and learned something pivotal this past weekend... It's not about what you can't do, it's about what you CAN.
How can a 36 mile winter fatbike ride be more difficult than a 100 mile winter fatbike ride? Soft snow and one gear.

When I had my 29er with Snow Cats, I challenged anyone to show me a place they could ride a fatbike and I couldn't ride my bike. For a long time, I could hang with anyone, anywhere. That was until we went and rode a dry creek bed in the Alaska Range. 29ers can do cobble with a lot of effort... but fatbikes can do it with ease.

So, I bought a fatbike and built it as a single-speed.

Of course, I challenged anyone to show me a place they could ride with gears that I couldn't ride with my single-speed. I dominated hills, topping out first, always. I powered through rough terrain with dripping testosterone. I raced the White Mountains 100 and finished in just over 16 hours, beating A LOT of other bikers.

Once again, I could hang with anyone, anywhere. But, again, that was until I rode with Kevin Breitenbach on Saturday, who's fresh off his first place ride in the Arrowhead 135 and second place finish in the Susitna 100. Last year, on the White Mountains 100, he took second place, finishing in 10 hrs 15 mins.

So, big question is, could I hang with Kevin in the White Mountains?

Nope.

Soft trail conditions slowed us both down, but it also brought down one more thing...
The gearing he pedaled in. I was not so fortunate to be able to downshift, which meant I was cranking hard while he putt-putted along, spinning in low gear. It was the first time I realized I needed gears.

By the time we got 20 miles into our 36 mile ride, it was starting to impact my riding ability, right when the trail got worse. I was in too high of a gear ratio to be able to spin freely and keep my balance, riding slow on the poor trail, which meant riding a straight line was really difficult. Second time I realized I needed gears.

When we hit uphills, Kevin downshifted and I cranked harder, exhausting myself in the soft snow. Then, I'd get off and push... and here's the biggest thing I learned: Until then, everyone I had ever biked with, I could keep up with going uphill if I was pushing and they were riding. But Kevin is strong, obviously. He pulled away and I had no chance of keeping up. Third time I learned I needed gears.

Because I could keep up pushing while others rode the uphills, I had always thought I was giving myself a break from biking, using fresh walking muscles to go up the steeper sections. This may be true in the middle pack of riders, but not up front.

Towards the end of the ride, my muscles were spent from 30 miles of cranking hard and pushing a bike uphill in soft snow. I told Kevin, with five miles left, that I'd meet him at the trailhead because I was going to push the final uphill sections, knowing he'd ride them all. Fourth time I realized I needed gears.

When I got back to the trailhead, he had been there about 25 minutes. He gained that amount of time in the final 5 miles, since we separated, all because he could downshift and ride uphill. He told me I needed gears. That was the cherry on top of it all, to hear him say that I did. He also said if I had gears and raced, I'd place in the top 5 finishers every time, after seeing what I WAS able to ride on my single-speed and reflecting back on my 16 hour finish in the WM100.

It was satisfying to hear that I was capable of that, but also saddening to know that I was stupidly being stubborn and riding single-speed simply because I liked it, not because it was a good idea. Gears for winter riding and racing are a good idea. Less time out on trail, less energy spent so less is needed in food calories, less sleep deprivation, etc. Single-speed is for summer trips, where simplicity and durability are more important, not speed and ability to ride everything encountered.

Quite the change for me. I actually will need to learn how to ride a geared bike again. Strange.
Don't worry, I'm keeping the single-speed Pugs. That will never go away. But I can't put gears on a horizontal drop-out bike, so in my sights is an aluminum Fatback, because they ride so beautifully and I have to keep it Alaskan.

Anyone want to sponsor me, so I can keep up and race with Kevin?

A Minimalist Sleeping Bag Quiver

Ultralight means everything should do double-duty. So why take your insulating clothes off to sleep? Why not use them in combination with your bag? Problem is, most bags on the market have 'efficient cuts' to minimize internal space. This cuts down on the volume of air your body must heat up to stay warm, requiring less energy to sleep comfortably, longer, but doesn't allow enough space inside the bag to wear much puffy clothing, if any. Stupid, if you're a minimalist or ultralighter.

I look at a sleeping bag's temperature rating as it's average temperature it can be comfortably used at, not the minimum. Here's why:

I wear nearly all my layers when sleeping, including puffy clothes. I don't bring extra clothes, just wear the ones I'd be bringing anyway. I do this for two reasons: one is because I hate sleeping in only baselayers if it's anything other than a 'warm' night in summer. It's nice getting out of my bag and staying warm because I'm properly clothed, not freezing when I get up cuz I'm in just a baselayer. This minimizes clothing changes and internal shelter space needed for clothes. The second reason is because if I compliment the bag with warm clothes, I can take a lighter bag. Since I'm sleeping in clothing I'm taking anyway, I'm saving weight, not adding, by my clothing pulling double-duty.

Have you ever slept outside at -35F inside a -40 down bag & vapor barrier liner bag, then gotten up to pee in the middle of the night? If you did it right, you were in just a light baselayer, since you were sleeping inside a VBL bag. And since you were inside a VBL bag, that means that light baselayer was damp with moisture and there you are, standing out under the clear, star & aurora-filled sky, in wet long underwear. Hmmm... doesn't seem very alluring, does it? I froze my ass off, even after getting back in the bag & VBL, which was plenty warm for the temps. VBL clothing and insulated garments over the top, combined with a lighter bag, would have been much better.

Or how about another example that's a little less extreme in temperature and of a more common weather condition?
You wake up at two in the morning, having to pee, and it's blowing 30 mph sideways rain on the crest of the Alaska Range. Snow is accumulating less than 500 feet above you, so it's around freezing at your camp. You had been hiking in it for a few hours and were kind of damp and fairly chilled, so you ate dinner and went straight to bed. There's two other people crammed in your three person silnylon pyramid and everything is soaked from hiking... not much space to don shell layers without soaking your friends in the process.
   -do you go out and pee in your baselayer because you brought your warm bag?
   -or do you go out in your insulated layers because you brought your lighter bag?
I did the latter and even though I got a little wet, I was completely dry (bag included) when I woke up in the morning, not from being chilled, either. I slept very well and plenty warm. It either would have been miserable going outside in those conditions in just a baselayer or I would have had to put on other clothes to stay dry/warm.

I have wide shoulders and even a 62" shoulder girth can feel moderately confining. If I wear my insulating layers inside my bag, I need at least a 64" shoulder girth, if not more. For summer temps, 64 or 65 would be perfect, as insulating layers above freezing are fairly thin. Below freezing, especially below zero Fahrenheit, I would need a 66" girth to accommodate all that down.
Some would argue that without the warm layers to take up that space, I'd be cold, as there'd be so much internal volume to heat up. I'm not worried, though, as I am a side-sleeper and like to cocoon myself when I sleep, pulling the covers snug up against my body. Any extra would get pulled and scrunched up near my body, eliminating the excessive volume. Being a side-sleeper also means Big Agnes style bags don't work for me, as the face opening stays up at all times.
Plus, I am only looking to gain 5-10º of warmth from the down & synthetic clothing, and not even a heavy down parka, just midweight down/synthetic layers. Wearing too thick of clothing inside might negatively insulate you - it could trap too much heat in the clothing and not warm the bag. Could you get cold from this? Maybe. I don't know... I've heard both arguments. Either way, opt for a light bag, get an additional 5-10º of warmth from midweight clothing layers, and have a very versatile clothing-sleeping system.
Just make sure the inside shoulder girth of your bag is large enough to accept however much volume the insulated clothing takes up. Don't compress the down in your bag from the inside out.

Vapor-barrier liners are necessary below +20F. The thickness of the sleeping bag and the temperature gradient between the inside of your bag and the outside air is thick/high enough that the warm moisture getting pushed out of your bag reaches the dew point before exiting the down and condenses, wetting out the down and freezing, if it's cold enough. Read more about VBLs and theory.

So, a 20º bag is smart because by adding a VBL at it's minimum comfort temperature (20), you extend it's range below it's temperature rating and keep the bag dry, exactly when you need to start using a VBL anyway. Add down clothing to the system, and you can take a 20º bag easily down to 5º, if not colder. (VBLs add about 10º of warmth and clothing 5-10º) While I said I don't like sleeping in just baselayers below freezing, I'd rather do that from 20-30º than try and make a 30 or 35º bag work down to 20º. VBLs are not necessary above 20, I'd much rather not use one if I don't have to, and clothing probably can't add more than 10º of warmth, reliably. That's a big word when you're far from home.

Could 20º be the ultimate sleeping bag rating? Comfortable from single digits up to the low thirties without shivering or sweating?

In conclusion, here's my idea of an extremely versatile sleeping bag quiver in which each bag is used for a 25-30º temperature range!
Also take note that it is composed of only three bags, which means I can afford to have all WM bags :)

30ºF & warmer
Western Mountaineering Caribou MF 35º
Block type down pockets keep the down in place and from shifting and leaving cold gaps. Wide girth accepts a puffy jacket to drop the rating to 30º or so. I'd go with a quilt for the weight savings, but I'm a sleeping bag guy. I like mummy bags, as they are mentally comforting and soothing since they seal up tight, which allows me to always get really good sleep. No VBL, so any additional warmth must come exclusively from clothing, which I'm only betting on 5º with the clothing I'd have in these temps.

5 to 30ºF
Western Mountaineering Alpinlite 20º long length
For 20-30º, just the bag & baselayer. Below it's 20º rating, down to about 10º, just add a VBL (it's needed anyway, so perfect!). Below 10º, add your insulated layers for temps down into the low single digits. Long length allows hoods on insulated clothing to be used and to wrap the bag up real tight around the face, down to blow-hole size.

-10 to 5ºF
Alpinlite & Caribou Combo
Sleep in the VBL & insulated clothing inside with Alpinlite with the Caribou draped over the top as a quilt. In Alaska, this is, strangely, a very rare temperature range. Usually, it's warmer or colder, since we pretty much just have summer & winter, with a three week spring and fall. If I were living in the Lower 48, I'd definitely opt for a 5 or 10º bag to use from -10 to 15 or 20 above, which would change the above bags.

-40 to -10ºF
Western Mountaineering Puma MF -25 long length
This ultra-warm bag can easily be taken down to or past -40 with VBL and insulated clothing. Big 66" shoulder girth accepts thicker clothes. Long length allows for booties & hooded clothing usage, plus wraps up & over head nicely.
I tried the Feathered Friends Peregrine and I liked everything but the hood/face opening. I couldn't get the hood to come down my forehead and the wide face opening is really challenging to cinch up to blow-hole size.

Selecting a Shelter

I can't come to a logical conclusion. I can't seem to prioritize all the different aspects, features, strengths, & weaknesses of different lightweight shelters for what I like to do. Maybe if I write about it all, that will get the finer points out into a well-thought-out decision.

It would be great to use one shelter year-round, but that might be where I'm having problems deciding.
In summer, I hike, but I don't like trekking poles unless it's rough going. I feel like I walk faster without them and I like walking fast. This means, in regards to my shelter, I either get one that has it's own pole(s), I bring trekking poles, or I bring a pole in lieu of a trekking pole support, which the latter seems dumb until you remember that other shelters have integrated poles and every shelter needs some sort of vertical support. But I cannot get past seeing this as 'extra weight,' since a pole that only holds up the shelter is not a multi-purpose item and is, therefore, probably not going to make it into my pack.

If the shelter uses trekking pole support, that means it's not free-standing and needs to be staked. Not a problem in summer, something I actually prefer in summer to save weight, but definitely a potential problem in winter in Interior Alaska, where our snow is like sugar: dry & as unconsolidated as it gets. Last winter, we had to stomp down a tent space in sugar snow and let it set up for over an hour and a half before it kind of held the snow stakes and snowshoes. Then we had to let the anchors freeze into the snow for another hour or so before tightening the guy-outs. It was my GoLite Shangri-La 3 and needed six anchor points. I told myself no more non-free-standing shelters after that 30 below experience. Not in Interior Alaska, at least, where we don't usually have deep snow to work with, regardless of how unconsolidated it might be. We didn't have wind, but I had a dream that night about the wind howling down the drainage and ripping the shelter out of the snow. Could have easily happened. I don't like that - both that possibility and also non-free-standing shelters in snow. I prefer finding a protected spot and setting the free-standing tent down in it, with little need to secure it to Earth... or, at least just ensure it doesn't blow away, instead of giving the shelter all its strength from being staked out tightly.

Which leads to (heavier) free-standing shelters. The Black Diamond Firstlight is the only one I'd consider. I don't like the internal poles, as I found with the Lighthouse I used to own, but nothing else is as light and proven/time-tested. I can get past the need to crawl inside and velcro the poles to the roof. Hey, at least I'm inside and not out in the storm, pushing poles through sleeves.
The new North Face Assault 2 is similar, possibly better, but it's new, looks to be a little heavier, not quite as good of a design, and hasn't seen years of testing or perfection in design. It may be good, but goodbye Assault.
I was looking into the Hilleberg Unna & (non-free-standing) Akto, but, while free-standing, the Unna is quite a bit heavier and the Akto has gotten really poor reviews when compared to the Tarptent Scarp. The Scarp & Akto use approximately the same design, but the Scarp is much more pleasant to be in and supposedly stronger in the wind. Goodbye Akto.

While the Scarp is not free-standing, it has gotten raving reviews, many from the UK, where the wind blows like mad (one more here). That's reassuring, but I don't like that it isn't free-standing and the same weight as the Firstlight, which is free-standing. The weight of the Scarp is in the double wall, which stops all drafts from whatever wind that may blow, and the struts which help solidify the otherwise weak corners. The double wall is pretty nice when it's -20F and howling, peppering any exposed skin with spindrift of little ice pellets. But guess what? The Firstlight seals up tight, too - with one wall, not two. Twin vestibules on the Scarp are luxurious, but I don't mind cooking inside my tent, either.

Speaking of double walls, contrary to popular belief, they are supposedly only a few degrees warmer, according to the legendary Roger Caffin. Worth the weight? No. Instead of carrying weight to gain an extra 5F inside my shelter overnight, I'll pick a better spot to camp that will be warmer & more protected from the weather. Here's one point to the single wall or pyramid shelters, especially since I'm looking at solo tents and will not be benefiting from having another warm body in the tent with me to help keep it warmer (and produce more condensation on the walls). PLUS, with any shelter in the cold, you must leave the vents open to reduce condensation. Open a window in your home overnight during the winter and tell me it doesn't cool your house down. You're choosing to sleep outside in winter. It's going to be cold. Face it.
Here's another link for further reading on the double vs single-wall debate.

On the note of single walls & pyramids, the lightest, most tested, best designed, & most available in the U.S. is unmistakably the Mountain Laurel Designs Duomid. However, the STRONGEST is unquestionably the Trailstar, as it doesn't have the long sides to catch the wind. I'd probably suck it up and get the cuben fiber one, as I'd most likely only be using it in summer. Although... I've used my Shangri-La 3 in the winter with success and the Duomid would be half the weight and palatial for one! Back to the non-free-standing in snow argument, though, I don't like that. So, I guess it would be delegated to summer use, even though you can stake it down to the ground and probably seal out any spindrift, which would also kill airflow, increasing condensation inside. Strictly using it in summer, though, would be fine by me. As I said before, in the cuben version, it's half the weight of my SL3 and I could get an inner net tent for it, upping the weight to about 22 oz. Not bad for insect-free, bomber summer shelter. However, jump back to my first paragraph (& rant) about how I don't use trekking poles. Well, maybe I just need to get some really light collapsible ones and I'd be happy. They could hang out either on my pack or in my hands. I'd only bring them, though, if my shelter needed it, which is probably for certain in summer, as I honestly prefer only one thin layer of fabric above me. Roman Dial agrees, and Ryan Jordan couldn't have it otherwise.

If you are wise, you've noticed I've left out the Warmlite 2C. It's been highly recommended by a bunch of my friends who have used it, but I don't like it's poles or venting options, especially the latter since it's made of silnylon, which has no breathability. They say you can get pretty wet inside and need a towel to wipe it down. Hmm, reminds me of my old Tarptent Squall in a 35F wet snowfall. The poles are theoretically stronger than anything else available, but their thin walls are really easy to crack at the tips. Oh yeah, it's also non-free-standing, although it only needs to be pulled taught lengthwise. Fragile, poor venting, & non-free-standing? No thanks. Excellent shelter for some, but not me.

    Breathe...

So where does this leave me? I'll discuss a few remaining topics before giving you my final thoughts on shelter choice.

1. How often am I going to stop and set-up the shelter for a break? Pretty much never.
I go fast, light, and don't like to stop for long breaks, as my muscles tend to not like it. Continually in motion is better for my body. I'll opt for natural cover instead of taking the time to unpack, set-up, and re-pack the tent. This summer (2011), I did a few trips where I hiked 30 miles each day, took my pack off 0-3 times per day for no longer than 5 minutes each time, and never sat down between the time I got out of my sleeping bag and the time I set-up the tent for the night. This is my style, not everyone's, but it's important that I make this a part of my shelter decision - how big of a priority is a fast-to-pitch shelter? For me, not huge. It's another deciding factor in why I like bomber rain gear that I always wear because it's so breathable. I'd rather keep moving than stop and be protected by the shelter.

2. I strongly believe people put too much emphasis on the storm-worthiness of shelters.

Yes, it's important, especially if you're climbing mountains, but there is almost always a way to get out of the major blast of the wind or under natural shelter from falling snow, the latter of which is usually less important. Hence, more emphasis should be put on the weight, internal space, and pack size of the shelter, plus site selection to erect it. However, it all depends on where you're doing your trips. I have a buddy who lives in Nome, Alaska where he gets hammered by coastal winds every second he's outside. I agree with his opinion that enclosed tents are a must in those conditions, but in Interior Alaska, in the land of spruce forests, maybe that's not the case. Farther north, beyond treeline, yes, just like Nome.

3. Consider the style of trip you will be on: hiking, rafting, skiing, biking?

Hiking & biking, I don't bring trekking poles, but skiing I do. Rafting, I have a paddle. Here's a big difference if you need trekking poles to support your shelter. If I'm biking, space is also a huge concern, as there's not a lot of room to put stuff on a bike. Less is more, in this application, especially since winter bike trails tend to be in the woods, out of the strength of the wind.

Ok, here we go... Yes, I was able to make a decision.
Summer: MLD Trailstar in cuben fiber, 11 oz. Inner net 8 oz.
Winter: Black Diamond Firstlight, ~40 oz including guylines & post-date-with-my-scissors

The Trailstar is everything a summer shelter needs to be and nothing more. That sentence perfectly defines the exact shelter I am looking for for all seasons.
The Firstlight is the same, except it also has the simplicity of being free-standing. Lay it out, insert the poles, sleep. No need to get it taught by staking to use it. There's simplicity in design & in function, both of which are not always present or important.
In this case, they are.
Regarding it's long, unsecured walls and tendency to be thrown around, I'll sew or glue on some guy-out tabs, like on the Assault.

If someone tells me to save the money and get silnylon for the Trailstar because it's stronger, I gladly will.
And if you can persuade me that free-standing in winter isn't as important as I feel it is right now (I doubt it), I'll get a Scarp 1.

The challenge is on. 
Or, just your thoughts, experience, and wisdom on this topic would be greatly appreciated :)  Thanks!

And if anyone is interested, I spent 7 hours working on this post.

***POST-POST ADDITION & LENGTHY RESPONSE TO EXCELLENT COMMENTS BELOW (PLEASE READ THEM)***

I’ve come to a conclusion after writing & thinking all this and reading all of your blog posts, comments, and in between the lines, then reflecting that back onto the thousands of nights I’ve slept outdoors.

I want a free-standing shelter in winter. Period.

(Not in summer, though!)

So, let's get dirty...

From the triple-crowner who has hiked over 10K miles on his long-distance hiking adventures and wishes to remain unnamed, comes the best description I've read, thus far, of the Tarptent Scarp 1. He didn’t comment here, but e-mailed me a massive deluge of experience & wisdom in response to many of my original questions.

'Get a Scarp. It is the next best thing on the market right now, hands down (behind the Black Diamond Hilight & Firstlight).' 

He then went on to say, ‘For me, with gloves on at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do is deal with those grommets, buckles, Velcro, vent lifters, eight clips, and cord locks to get the ideal internal space. I don’t even want to eat at the end of long days, I just want to sleep, but I would rather eat than deal with clips and things.’

This is exactly how I feel about ALL my winter gear: shelters, clothing, bags, pads, stoves, etc. Simplicity rules all and usually low weight is synonymous with this. Therefore, I like the Black Diamond Firstlight the best.

Simply put, here's my explanation on shelter simplicity and view on the Firstlight, Warmlite 2C, and Tarptent Scarp 1:
Firstlight: a bag with two poles and a door
2C: a bag with two poles and a door and needs to be pulled tight
Scarp: a bag with a cover and three poles and two doors and needs to be pulled tight

For the sake of good discussion and learning opportunities for all, let’s address everyone’s thoughts.

______

Martin,

I don’t want to have to take the crossover poles for the Scarp. Triple-crowner said the same thing, that they're needed in high winds. If so, I’d rather have a Hilleberg Unna. Both of these options are heavier than I’d like, however. In that case, I’d rather take less shelter and deal with finding a safer spot to pitch it. Glad to hear the Scarp is bomber in apocalyptic conditions, though!

Regarding the Trailstar, I love my GL SL3 in summer & winter for its ability to be pitched tight to the ground (pretty much). The same goes with the Trailstar, except for the one side. Even in the Alaskan summer, with our raptor-sized mosquitoes, there are times when I just take a headnet to sleep in, instead of a mesh inner, when using the SL3. I would not be able to do this with the Trailstar, since it has the open 'door.' I also think I’d feel vulnerable with the open side in winter… Maybe I’m a little too soft to use tarps in winter…

Solid point about the long sides of the Duomid being vulnerable in winds. I’ve heard this before and don’t like that. A square, pentagon, or hex is much preferred to a rectangle for the same reason I’m not a fan of dual trekking pole or dual peak shelters… they have a long, vulnerable side. What about guying out the long sides of the Duomid? Would that help?

Is the Solomid big enough? I think the Cricket Tarp is probably a better shelter, ‘ey?

I have considered the Speedmid. Although, are the walls to shallow to pitch it tight to the ground, like I described above? Would that lose too much space? Seems like a great shelter for two in summer.

For solo summer use, Trailstar, Cricket Tarp, or Solomid? 

I think maybe an 11 oz cuben Trailstar is the perfect blend of space, weight, strength, and ability to use for two people, as well.

I was checking out the Khufu in relation to the Duomid and it seems a tad lighter, but have reservations regarding the overseas, translation, & currency thing. Probably not as good of customer service as just simply calling up Ron at MLD :)

Thanks for the wisdom, Martin! And thanks for following!

______

Korpi,

That’s the same boat I am and have been in for a while. Hmm, is the SL3 the best? No, but it’s great. So what is???

The Rabs are cool and I’ve also heard good things about them, but, yeah, too heavy.

Thanks, Korpi!

______

Steve,

You’re so eloquent. Perfect explanation of the Warmlites. So true, in every way.

(Everyone, please read his description below if you haven’t. Great insight from a Warmlite user.)

Yeah, I’d also laugh hysterically at the price tag on a cuben 2 or 3 X, R, or C!!!

Luc told me a few months ago I should look into making my own shelter from silnyl.

Maybe I should come up with the best tent in the world. Might have to put on some Tenacious D for that :)

The tent would, undoubtedly, be a single-skin pyramid, very similar to the cuben ones on the Arctic 1000, but maybe with a Velcro-on mosquito netting/floor bottom similar to summer-use Tarptent models, as to not waste weight in double walling. Hmm…

Thanks, Steve!

Oh yeah! A BROKEN WARMLITE POLE!!!  (scroll down on the page about half way)

______

Dave!

I think it’s funny to have hiked through the rise and, what seems to be from some people, the potentially upcoming fall of trekking poles? They’ll never go away, because they're so good in certain conditions, but it’s comical for me to look back on how revolutionary they were when I first used them and now, years later, I almost never do. Oh, how we learn and change.

What about cuben and exposure to sunlight? I’ve read that Zpacks backpacks are only good for one thru-hike because they’ll fall apart after the sun exposure. I would imagine the same is true for cuben, in general, especially when used for shelter? That makes a cuben Duomid a pretty pricey throw-away item!!!

And yes, the Hexamid is REALLY appealing at under 10 ounces for a bug-proof summer shelter!

Hexamid or the 11 oz BOMBER cuben Trailstar?

Thanks, Dave!

______

Thank you, again, to all who have helped with this selection.

I think it’s a great discussion to have, especially the collaboration of so many experienced adventurers sharing their thoughts in one place, on one topic. I hope to see more!

I was in a training today at work and we learned how collaboration via dialogue helps people learn, find truth, produce results, and strengthen relationships. I love this and it was the exact point of this post.

Keep it up, both outdoors and on the web!

Josh

30 Below Fatbike Camping: A System Test

I packed up the bike with sleeping bag & pad, since I hadn't slept outside in... I can't remember, which made me sad. It was -15F when I left my cabin, so I brought my -20F bag, as it was snowing and clouded over, which should have meant that it was to get warmer over the course of the night. Well, I woke up after 9.5 hours of sleep to clear skies and at least -25F. (This was the temperature at my cabin when I returned, which is warmer than the area I slept.)
The big spruce tree down by the creek has kept good shelter over me from the night's snowfall, but I had begun to feel the clearing skies and falling temps. I packed up the bag & pad and got rolling on the creek with completely numb fingers. I didn't try to solve the problem because, fortunately, my cabin was not far ahead.
A great night of sleep, outside, breathing fresh air, by myself, under a big spruce tree next to a snow-covered creek... with my fatbike.

What I learned:
1. A tent isn't necessary for camping in winter, in most places. There's almost always a place to tuck your bag into that provides some sort of shelter from either wind and/or falling snow, of which the latter is less of a problem than the former, as it's usually cold enough to stay frozen and not make you wet. Although, tents do hold in heat, resulting in a warmer environment to sleep in, keep the snow out, stop the wind, and provide peace of mind for some people while sleeping out in the dark & scary woods. They take time to set-up and take up space on the bike, as well as add weight. A tent might not be necessary, but it's probably worth the weight if you want to truly camp and not just get a little shut-eye for a few hours.

2. I need a better winter sleeping pad. While I didn't feel the cold, frozen ground, I did feel the hard, frozen ground. There is not enough padding in those two thin, foam pads rolled up under the handlebars. I like to sleep on my side and this made for a pretty uncomfortable rest. Plus, when I rolled them up in the morning, I found I had melted the snow down to the ground. More comfort and a bit more insulation are needed.

3. I need warmer boots; these, specifically. My Keen Summit County boots are great for day rides and down to about -20F for a while, but they're not warm enough for camping at -30F. Sure, vapor-barrier socks (1 gal Ziploc freezer bag) work well, but I don't want to mess with them for short rides.

4. I had the big dry sack that holds my sleeping bag strapped down pretty well under the seat, such that it's a real pain to remove. I was able to get it on the bike real tightly in my warm cabin, but knew that it could be a problem in the cold, dark morning. Yep, it was. Stuffing my sleeping bag back in that bag at 30 below while it was strapped to the bike is too challenging. I'm putting the rack back on so I can stuff the bag on the ground, then simply strap the bag to the rack. Much easier and worth the weight of the rack, as things need to be as simple as possible in these temps.

5. I need to find a way to have warm hands when the inside of the poagies are -30F at the start of a ride, i.e., in the morning after camping out. Maybe handwarmers? But both times I've tried them, they've failed; duds. I've lost faith in them and don't want to rely on something working, then get myself in hard times when they don't. Problem being, hands don't produce much heat, so it takes forever (impossible?) to warm up poagies when they're -30F inside. More research & testing needed.

6. For more than one night in temps around zero or below, vapor-barrier clothing for sleeping is a must. My bag was soaking wet when I pulled it out of the stuff sack, after getting back to my cabin. I can't imagine it would keep me warm on a second night in those temps. I figured this would be the case, but wanted to test it to know for sure. Maybe just wear the VBL clothing while riding then get in the bag? And then straight out in the morning? Again, more testing needed.

7. If you sleep next to a tree, it makes for a nice solid object for pushing your foot into cold, hard boots in the morning :)

Cold, Fun, & Suffering: A Progression

Alaska has been the coldest place in the world this past week, with Fairbanks at the heart of it all.
I rode my fatbike in to work on two of the coldest days, with the coldest temperature I'm aware of riding through being -49º F.
At 10 mph travel, that's a -66º F wind chill, if the air is calm. The bridge of my nose can attest to this. Call me stupid, and I might agree.

An hour and a half to go twelve miles, mostly on bike paths or trails, with a stop at the gas station just past half-way to get some coffee.
I know what everyone is thinking... why in the hell would I ride my bike twelve miles each way, to & from work in the -40s? My mom questioned me, too, and here's what I wrote to her in an e-mail...

Things are different up here (Alaska). Downstates, people would honestly think I'm a f***ing nut-job. Here, people just think what I'm doing is crazy, not me, personally. See the difference?
Anyone who lives in Alaska is exposed to the extremes, both in terms of the people and the conditions. Mushers do incredibly long runs in all weather imaginable, from minus-60s on the Yukon River, to 0F & blowing 50 mph on the Bering Sea coast. People have been skiing, biking, climbing, running, etc, in Alaska for ages and continue to do so. Plus, if you think about the Alaska Native historical & nomadic lifestyle, it makes us all seem like a bunch of wimps.

I like to push the line in some things I do, for, if nothing else, a way to test myself and in an attempt to, as my good friend described it to me once in terms of alpine climbing, 'make myself bulletproof.' If I take opportunities to practice, which is how I look at it, when I'm out on trips, it's not the end of the world if I'm uncomfortable for a while or experience 'poor' conditions. I'll be able to shrug it off easily and say, 'I've seen worse,' with a smile. Make yourself bulletproof to, hopefully, anything you could experience, both in regards to adventures for recreation and in life, too.

Underlying everything I do is the mantra of 'be smart.' Push the line and test yourself in both what you can handle and the skills you've built, but know the limits of what is realistic and what crosses the line as either dangerous or just stupid/detrimental to your health & well-being. Honestly, I was sweating on the ride home the second day, just a little bit, even though it was at least -35F. That means I have a little wiggle room/buffer/room to spare for riding in those conditions with the clothing system I used. If something goes wrong, I have warm mittens, two puff jackets, and puff pants to put on immediately. Plus, from experience, I know that pushing a bike warms you up SUPER fast.

So, now I know that I can comfortably(?) bike for at least two hours at -45F safely. Sure, depending on conditions and location, I might need a warm sleeping bag/tent/cabin/building to go in at the end, but in a different situation (not commuting to work), I would inevitably attack it differently. If I was biking a big route through a remote area, I'd make sure I didn't sweat and think ahead for everything imaginable.
In 2010, I volunteered on the White Mountains 100 bike/ski/foot race and patrolled the 100 mile route on snowmachine, helping at checkpoints & giving assistance to racers, if necessary, but mostly just making sure everyone was ok. I got a real good look at the route and idea of what it would be like to complete it. So, after oogling over the fatbike tracks for 100 miles, I went back the next weekend and did the route solo & unsupported on my 29er. That trip gave me a lot of confidence and understanding of how fast I can go for how long. In 2011, I felt fully prepared to enter the race, and ended up cutting 13 hours off my solo time, finishing in 16 hrs 15 min on my fatbike.

Photo by Ed Plumb, Nov 2011

I think this is a perfect example of the progression that everyone should do when attempting something extreme, in regards to their own viewpoint of their goals, interests, experience, etc. Start by exposing yourself to it a little bit, like biking at 0 or -20. Then step it up a little more, like commuting or camping in those same temps. Then, go big, once you have things figured out and are comfortable with it, if you so choose. I saw it, I tried it, I raced it. I even went out there hiking in summer this year. Now, I feel comfortable on that route in just about any conditions it could throw at me. It's all the first steps towards crazier sh*t, which is all relative and described in that manner from other, more conservative people's perspectives.

Ironically, Dave wrote similarly about this topic on his blog, this week. Please read, as his insights are noteworthy. One could also compare all this silly talk to the types of fun that alpinist Kelly Cordes wrote about a while ago.

It's important psychologically, if nothing else, to be able to get through a situation because you're seen worse, have overcome a bad situation or experience like it before, etc. All these things can completely destroy a person psychologically in the field, on a trip, or just in life. It can break you down and put you in a hole you can't climb out of alone, which is not a place I ever want to find myself, although it may be inevitable.

I tell myself, and believe, there is a point to everything like this I do, and for once, FINALLY, I may have just found my line of where the fun stops but my body keeps going. Possibly the limit of enjoyability (word?) and the continuation of capability. And, by God, does that make me happy. I've been looking for it for years.
______

For the record, please do not call me hardcore or anything of similar reference, as some people have recently. It irritates me, big time.
I'm just a dude who has an interest in doing this stuff and am just like so many other awesome people out there.
But, most importantly, there are too many people to list that have, do, and will experience far greater things and endure more pain & suffering than I have or ever will and it would be embarrassing to be referred to in terms of so many great adventurers of history & today:
HA, HS, BM, RR, RD, EP, EP, JO, LM, JL, AS, CC & here & here, too... the list goes on.
Maybe I want to be there, but I am not... yet :)

Coal Wood Glitter: The Third Time's A Charm

I had an idea, I planned, I tried, and now I finished.

90 miles through the Alaska Range, this time with Ed Plumb & Ann Farris.
Day 1: Suntrana to Cody Creek via Healy Creek (27 mi) & 10 hrs of sleep
Day 2: Cody Creek to Edgar Creek  via the Wood River (25 mi) & 8 hrs of sleep
Day 3: Edgar Creek to McKinley Village, aka 'Glitter Gulch' (10 mi hiking & 28 mi packrafting).
          First vehicle I thumbed it to picked us up.

The Route:
About 95% of this route offers some sort of trail or path, whether it be ATV or game trails.
One 4500 ft pass and one 5400 ft pass. Lots of creek/river bed walking & thick brush (mostly alder & birch) in drainages up to 4000 feet.
The Yanert is swift glacial current, running at least 6 mph, with a top floating speed of 11 mph. It's mostly a class I-II float, with some hard & tight eddy lines that require precise paddling and a few class III bends and holes, almost all of which are avoidable.
I unintentionally danced with the Devil and ended up running two big wave trains, without a spray deck or PFD, that each led into a class III hole, but managed to stay dry & upright. Sorry Mom, but I guess I learned something from all those Roman Dial packrafting videos.

Trip Insight:
- It's a great route: walk past the old coal mines and up Healy Creek for 20-some miles, up & over Cody Pass & down Cody Creek to the Wood River, up it to Big Grizzly Creek & the pass to Edgar Creek, then follow Edgar Creek to the Yanert, float out the Yanert to Revine Creek (5 hrs) and hike back to the Parks Highway at McKinley Village. It's very straight-forward and easy to follow.
- As you can see in the video, we used the GPS a lot, but that's only because we forgot the maps in the truck. I also had a mental image burnt into my brain after two years of planning. We found that it's perfect for someone looking to 'go bigger' with their backcountry adventures, but still have some sort of path to follow and information about the route, with not too big of terrain and modest safety hazards.
- I typically don't eat that much during the day, but like a big meal at night. It replaces what I burned during the day and helps me sleep at night. But, if it's cold, windy, & wet, I need a lot more calories during the day.
- Ultralight is great, but if it's nasty weather, it may be best to either have extra time to wait it out or bring the extra food it will take (calorically) to keep on truckin'. Extra time might be nice to catch up on sleep or rest sore muscles/feet from all the mileage you probably were doing because you are going ultralight.
- I took my pack off three times each day and never sat down the first two days, until we made camp. We averaged between 2.5 & 3 mph hiking, depending on the brush intensity. Continuing to hike and not taking more than a few minute breaks was actually nicer than stopping and resting, as it kept my body in motion.
- I dipped a liter bottle in small creeks for water, without filtering, and found that every creek tastes different, depending on the rock and minerals deposited into the water. It kept me in touch with the environment in a way I've never experienced before.

The Gear:
19 lbs including boat & paddle, not including worn & consumables
Six Moon Designs Comet backpack (& 2 webbing straps to tie to packraft)
Marmot Hydrogen sleeping bag & torso size blue foam
Patagonia wool 2 zip-t & wool socks (for sleeping, in silnylon bag)
GoLite Shangri-La 3 & 6 Y-stakes (to sleep 3 people)
Ti pot, Cat stove, pot grabber, spoon, windscreen, & matches (to cook inside shelter)
Bear spray, knife, & firestarter
Rab eVent jacket & OR PacLite pants
Montbell Thermawrap Vest & Patagonia Nano Puff Hoody
Alpacka Yukon Yak (also to sleep on)
AquaBound Manta Ray paddle (also shelter support)

Gear Insight:
- Denatured alchohol is great, but up at 4500 feet on Big Grizzly Creek was the first time I've ever had problems with the cat stove. Even nestled behind some rocks, it took almost 10 lights before it stayed burning and boiled water. Every time I set the pot on the stove, it would go out. Sensitive to the wind?
- Having the liter bottle cinched to my backpack shoulder strap with an orange ski strap was fantastic. I stayed more hydrated than I ever have in my life, as the water was right there to drink and monitor how much I had or needed for the next stretch. If I was hiking along a creek, I'd dump it out and carry an empty bottle, as I could dip whenever I was thirsty.
- The Rab Latok Alpine Jacket with eVent fabric doubled as a wind & rain jacket. It was so breathable, I only took it off for one mile! While hiking into the driving rain, however, it did wet out, but conditions were pretty gnarly and I'm not disappointed, especially when I compare its performance to all the other waterproof/breathable fabrics I've used.
- We had to stop hiking the second night (in the driving rain) not because we were tired or it was late or too nasty of weather, but because my gloves were saturated and after three hours, my hands finally got too cold. Couple that with the conditions and time and it was a mighty fine opportunity to pitch the shelter and hit the hay. Take home message: bring shell gloves/mitts or a way to keep hands dry (& warm).
- The GoLite Shangri-La 3 slept all three of us with just enough space to sprawl out, except for the driving rain night, when we had to hunker in a little to keep away from the wet nylon. Plenty strong and storm-worthy.
- We slept on our packrafts, which created a huge dry area, allowing us to lay out gear and clothes next to our bags and keep it all dry. The 2011 boats are even bigger than previous models, with the long tail, and work really nicely.
- 100% humidity, being showered by dripping condensation all night, and a very wet insulated jacket couldn't wet-out my Marmot Hydrogen 30 degree down bag. While it was unsettling to see the clumpy balls of down when I got into the bag, it was completely dry by morning, while being warm all night.
- As nice as the 2011 Alpackas are to sleep on, they're equally bad to sit in. The boat has an overall narrower design, which smashed my hips to the point of pain during and after the float. Both feet were crammed in the bow, one in front of the other as there wasn't enough room to wedge them side by side. The narrow dimensions also make the boat slightly tippier side to side, compared to the previous model. However, the tail is amazing. As Roman pointed out, it completely prevents bandersnatching. If you have an old boat, send it in to Sheri and have a tail installed.
- I'm a hiker and I like to go light, so carrying 7-10 lbs of floating gear is not cool unless there's enough floating to make it worth while or the route just isn't possible without it. But, if I am going to carry a boat, etc, I'm taking the biggest boat I can, as they are so much more stable and float through skinny water better, plus being idyllically spacious. Sure, it weighs a little more, but so not as much as the whole floating gear compared to my basepack weight.
- Last trip, I carried my trekking poles the entire time. This time, I left them at home. Never once did I miss them, because in my hand, instead, was my DSLR. With my hands free, I took 1200 photos in three days and even had the camera put away for 4 hours during the driving rain and 6 hours the next day while packrafting. The DSLR allows me to get shots that are straight-up impossible to get with a point and shoot, plus the quality is far superior. And since it's in my hand all day long, it doesn't weigh down my pack.

As I learned last year when J.R. & I attempted this trip, I may be out of school, but the education continues.

Fatbike Creek Crossing

Riding my fatbike through one of the creeks that crosses Valdez Creek Road, off the Denali Highway.
I quickly learned deep, strong current must be treated the same as when in a canoe - go with the current as much as possible.
Treat flowing water over one foot deep (this was about two feet) like a hard eddy line.

A Blazin' Firestarter

Hendrik Morkel had a link in his Week in Review to a great blog post on DIY waterproof firestarter.

I decided I'd give it a shot this weekend, while stuck in Fairbanks with a bum knee and without my car.

Please see the blog post for the detailed instructions on how to make the firestarters.

Here are my photos of the process, including how to melt the wax.

It produced incredible flames (essentially a small fire on its own) for five minutes. 

At seven and a half minutes, the flames extinguished and it smoldered for another 90 seconds, before disintegrating.

I wanted to try and create a real-life situation, so I soaked one starter for 15 minutes in cold water (to simulate a river crossing or dunk in one), then shook it off and was able to re-light it with one match! However, the only way this was successful was by holding it upside down so the flame and heat were contained and concentrated within the concave shape of the inverted egg carton.

Pretty easy (& cheap!) to make, they produce a small fire, are easily lit with one match even after soaking in water, and are waterproof.

Sure, birch bark might be easier to light, less bulky, and lighter weight, but it doesn't burn as long or act as a small campfire on its own.

If a person can't start a fire using one of these, there isn't going to be a fire. Probably not even a wildfire!