Fleece or Soft Shell?

In the Superstition Mountains on the Arizona Trail.

This piece was written as the introduction for a review of fleece and soft shell jackets in The Great Outdoors several years ago. I was asked recently why I still wore fleece. I think this answers that question. 

Just about every outdoor clothing company makes a range of bright coloured fleece and soft shell clothing and racks of the stuff can be found in every outdoor shop. Look beyond the colours and brand names though and most garments are surprisingly similar with designs dominated by zip-fronted jackets with two lower pockets. This simple design is okay for casual use but not the best for hill walking and backpacking, especially for soft shell. In this feature I’m going to consider the most functional designs and materials for both fleece and soft shell and look at which is best for the hill rather than the high street.

FLEECE & SOFT SHELL DEFINED & ASSESSED

Whilst some fabrics are clearly fleece and some clearly soft shell others are a mix of both so there is no absolute distinction. At what point does a windproof soft shell become a windproof fleece? What about garments with a brushed fleece inner and a smooth soft shell outer?

The basic difference is that fleece is designed to provide warmth not weather protection while soft shell is designed to provide weather protection before warmth. Fleece is only wind or water resistant if a second material – an inner membrane or outer tightly woven shell – is added. Soft shell is wind and water resistant by design. With both fabrics insulation is determined by thickness. Generally fleece is lighter in weight for the same warmth. The warmest soft shells usually have fleece inners, which makes for a fairly heavy and bulky combination. Fleece is very much a mid layer, designed to be worn under wind and waterproof shells while soft shell, as the name suggests, is designed to cope with at least some wind and rain on its own. Fleece comes in different weights (thicknesses). The basic ones are often labelled 100, 200 and 300 after a system devised by Polartec. I think 100 weight fleece, which is the thinnest and lightest, is the most versatile for hill walking as it can be used year round. In summer I carry it as my main warmwear. In winter I often wear it while walking and carry a second warm layer. The heavier fleeces tend to be too warm in summer though people who feel the cold often like them for autumn to spring wear. However 200 and 300 weight fleece and similar are quite bulky and heavy. I’d rather carry two 100 weight fleeces.

Because fleece isn’t windproof it’s very breathable. Condensation inside a fleece is very unusual. Combined with the softness of the fabric this makes fleece very comfortable to wear. However in anything but a light breeze a windproof shell garment is needed. Lightweight windproofs are ideal for this, except in heavy rain, as they are also very breathable. The combination of a light windproof and a light fleece is more breathable than windproof fleece, which is made of two layers of fleece with a windproof membrane sandwiched between them, and usually lighter in weight as well. I think windproof fleece is great for casual use but isn’t versatile or breathable enough for the hills. I can get sweaty very quickly inside a windproof fleece. You can’t separate the layers and just wear one of them as with a fleece and windproof combination either.

Whilst the definition of soft shell is debatable most companies now use it to mean a stretchy fabric that is wind and water resistant and that’s how I’ve used it here. Soft shell garments can be worn as the outer layer much of the time, if the design allows. The last is an important point as many soft shells don’t have the features needed for an outer garment, particularly a hood. Soft shells that rely on a tightly woven structure to repel the weather are not as wind or water resistant as ones with a membrane. Such woven soft shells are quite breathable but also much heavier than fleece for the same warmth whilst still needing a shell in strong winds and rain. They are also slow drying and bulky to pack. I don’t really see the point of these fabrics for jackets (trousers are a different matter) as the performance doesn’t compare with a fleece and windproof shell combination. Soft shell with a membrane is better as it will cope with all but the heaviest rain and strongest winds, meaning that only a very light waterproof need be carried. Even so the weight and bulk of soft shell and the lack of versatility over separate fleece and windproof garments means I only use soft shell jackets on day walks or overnight trips. Of the different soft shells with membranes I’ve found Polartec Power Shield the most breathable as well as being windproof and almost waterproof. The better breathability than other membranes is due to the membrane which is 98% not 100% windproof. Polartec says the remaining 2% allows air to circulate, increasing breathability. It’s not perfect of course and I have got quite sweaty in a Power Shield jacket during long climbs.

Fleece top for warmth in a bothy.

 

DESIGNS

As I’ve indicated most soft shell jackets have poor designs for outdoor use. Makers seem to have forgotten the word “shell” in “soft shell” and gone for standard fleece jacket designs. Few soft shell garments have hoods, which are essential in my view, or front zips and pockets designed to resist rain. If you need to wear a wind or waterproof shell on top of a soft shell in anything more than light rain or a breeze then you’d be better off with a fleece. To be suitable for the hills a soft shell should have an adjustable hood, large pockets accessible when wearing a hipbelt and water resistant closures.

The best designs for fleece are the opposite. In storms fleece is worn under shell garments so big pockets and water resistant zips are unnecessary. A hood can be useful, and can replace a warm hat, but isn’t essential. In fact my favourite fleece is a pullover design with no pockets and only a short zip. It’s very light though and performs perfectly as warmwear, which is all I want.

Achieving the Heights in the Monadh Liath

My trip in the Monadh Liath hills described in my post two days ago required a fair amount of effort and difficult walking. Below the snowline the ground was sodden, the 'paths' ribbons of mud and water. I squelched through the mud, stumbled over wet tussocks and slipped on wet rocks. Only the sight of the snow far above and the blue sky and sunshine kept me going. Despite wearing gaiters my feet were soon wet as my boots, old but comfortable, didn't stay waterproof for long despite being recently treated with wax.
 

Reaching the first snow didn't make the going any easier. In fact it became harder as the wet sugary snow collapsed under my steps, leaving me floundering knee deep and having to lift each leg high for the next plunge. My thigh muscles felt that the next day. Occasionally I hit rocks too, jarring my back and knees. At this point I wished I'd brought snowshoes or even lugged up my skis, which were now far below in my car.
 

Finally I reached the high snowfields and firm terrain across which I could stride out. Suddenly the effort of reaching here was forgotten.

Latest edition of The Great Outdoors - Backpacking in the Lakes with Terry Abraham and lots of gear reviews

Terry Abraham filming the Scafells

The April issue of The Great Outdoors is out now. I've contributed a piece on my backpacking and filming trip in the Lake District with Terry Abraham plus a selection of individual lightweight gear reviews including the latest version of GoLite's Jam 50 pack and Primus's new Eta Lite stove.

Also in the gear pages Daniel Neilson selects some interesting new gear from the recent ISPO show in Munich and reviews eight pairs of ultralight trail shoes while John Manning looks at seven lightweight waterproofs. Away from new gear there's an interesting feature on what happens to items donated to Gift Your Gear.

As usual these days the issue starts with some dramatic double-page landscape pictures, of which I particularly like Dougie Cunningham's dawn shot of Trotternish on Skye. This dramatic area is covered again later in the magazine in a feature by Hanna Linden. Further south in the Lake District Vivienne Crow describes remnants of the area's industrial past still to be found in the fells. Away north, far far north, Cat Scully visits the spectacular Lofoten and Vesteralen in Arctic Norway. Also looking far away is Jim Perrin, who praises Ed Douglas's excellent Chomolumgma Sings The Blues in his Hillwalkers' Library column.

Back in Britain Daniel Neilson visits the Ordnance Survey and discusses the appeal of maps in a fascinating article, Alec Forss describes a five-day backpacking trip in the Cambrian Mountains in the heart of Wales, Carey Davies looks at threats to the human heritage of our National Parks and Roger Smith is concerned about the role of government conservation bodies.

The Hill Skills pages look at caring for sleeping bags, terrain traps and avalanche danger (the huge amount of snow in the Scottish hills, which could last for a few more months, means this 'winter' advice is still relevant), dog walking in lambing season, keeping safe near water, the various 'norths' used in navigation and spotting planets.

The Shining Monadh Liath

A Blue & White World

The Monadh Liath - the grey hills - are often regarded as rather bland and uninteresting, especially when compared with the Cairngorms (original name Am Monadh Ruadh - the red hills) just across Strathspey.  However the rolling hills of the Monadh Liath have attractions of their own, especially for those who love feelings of space and vastness. Here the horizons are distant and the high country rolls on seemingly forever beneath huge skies. Under snow the Monadh Liath can be especially magical as I found today on my first winter venture into these hills for several years.

I'd gone to the Monadh Liath as the forecast suggested the summits might be clear and there could even be some sunshine whilst the Cairngorms to the east remained in thick fog. The forecasters were correct. All day a dark boiling mass of cloud covered the Cairngorms while in the Monadh Liath the sun shone and the sky was a deep blue with only occasional squalls darkening the air. 

Tracks

I climbed two of the four highest summits - A'Chailleach and Carn Sgulain - but the Monadh Liath are not really about peaks (the second of these two is just a gentle rise above the surrounding moorland) but about the whole high level area. Low down I ploughed through sodden heather and grass on slippery, muddy paths. Then came the first snow, soft, deep and unsupportive. Gaining height was hard work. But once I reached the higher snowfields the world changed. Here the snow was firm, crunching under my boots. Firm and smooth. Instead of the wind-blasted rutted snow-ice and deep drifts I've grown used to in the Cairngorms this winter here was a soft blanket spread evenly over the land in gentle folds and drapes. The only marks were the long tracks of mountain hares (I saw several) and the occasional tuft of grass or tip of a boulder.

Clouds building over A'Chailleach

Then there was the light. And what light! The sun shining through the clouds lit up the shape and texture of the snow. The land was white and blue, shining and shadowed, reflecting the blue sky and the bright sunshine and dancing with cloud patterns. The white world stretched out to infinity. There was nothing but snow and sky, forever and forever. Or so it seemed.

Coming down to the dark glen and the bogs and mud my head was still full of the shining world high above. The Monadh Liath had given me the best day of the winter so far.

How Outdoor Gear Has Changed Since 1978

High Sierra camp, Pacific Crest Trail, 1982. My gear bottom left - Wintergear Eyrie Gore-Tex tent, Mountain Equipment Lightline sleeping bag, Therm-A-Rest, Berghaus Cyclops Scorpion pack, Sherpa Sno-Claw snowshoes, Simond Couguar ice axe

 

Back in 1999 The Great Outdoors magazine celebrated it's 21st birthday. For the anniversary issue I wrote a feature about changes in gear during those years. I came across this piece recently and, with some updates to take account of another 15 years, here it is.

Aah, the good old days! Gear was gear then, none of this soft fluffy stuff. And it was lighter, and tougher. So goes the ageing walker, sitting in the corner of the bar smelling slightly of dead sheep and mildewed cotton. But what gear were walkers using in 1978?  And was it as good as the stuff we use now? A quick flip through the pages of the first issue of The Great Outdoors reveals advertisements for leather boots with stitched soles, non-breathable cagoules (lots of those), fibre-pile jackets, external frame packs, ridge tents, tartan wool shirts and cotton windproofs. There are ads for Gore-Tex and internal frame packs but fleece, lightweight boots, trail shoes, dome and tunnel tents, trekking poles, GPS and much more are strangely absent. I'm surprised though at how many of the brand names are familiar - Vango, Mountain Equipment, Rohan, Karrimor, Berghaus, Field & Trek, Primus, Optimus, Camping Gaz, Nikwax, Gore-Tex, Zamberlan, Sprayway - but who now remembers Pointfive, Boylans, Daimor, Bukta, Camp Trails, Hawkins, Munari, Ultimate?  

Gear was a major feature of the first issue of The Great Outdoors with seven pages devoted to a review of the 1977 Camping Trades Association Exhibition (CTA is now the Outdoors Industry Association), a page of test reports (a waterproof cagoule from Clarks (!) and a polyester filled proofed cotton jacket from Tenson), two pages of thoughts on lightweight camping by Robin Adshead (showing the lightweight approach was in The Great Outdoors from the start), another two pages on choosing backpacking gear at the age of fifty by Andrew Harper and a Meet the Retailer page on The Great Outdoors (of course!), in Yeadon. That's 13 pages in all, a significant chunk of a magazine with just 32 pages of editorial.

Here I've taken a dash through the past; seeking out those items that have lasted and looking at the changes that have taken place.

Boots

What we put on our feet has changed amazingly. In 1978 the "lightweight revolution", as it was called, was still a few years away and boots were generally fairly stiff and heavy and always made from leather. I walked from Land's End to John O'Groats in the spring of 1978 wearing 5 lb leather boots with metal shanks in the soles, something I shudder at now. The first signs of change came in 1980 with the launch of Karrimor's K-SBs (then made by Asolo) with fabric/suede uppers and a lightweight flexible synthetic midsole instead of a stiff leather one. TGO editor Roger Smith wrote in his review of the 1980 COLA Show that "1981 could be the year when the lightweight walking boot really makes the breakthrough".  He was right and this was reinforced the next year, 1982, with the launch of the first Brasher Boot and the Scarpa Bionic range. In that year I became committed to the new footwear after starting my 2,600 mile Pacific Crest Trail walk in 5 lb stiff leather monsters and finishing in 1.5 lb fabric Asolo approach shoes, the forerunners of today's trail shoes. Then as now some people felt lightweight footwear was unsuitable for serious use. In a feature in the February 1993 TGO I wrote "after 1200 miles, with a 60-70 lb pack, I beg to differ". After many, many more miles with many more loads I still do. 

On the Continental Dvide Trail, 1985. New Balance shoes, Karrimor Condor pack, Rohan clothing, Camera Care Systems camera cases

Although improvements continue modern walking boots and shoes are still based on the designs launched in the early 1980s. The only really new development in the 1990s has been sports sandals, which first appeared in Britain at the 1992 COLA Show and which were first reviewed, very positively, in the September 1993 issue by Cameron McNeish.

However the 1990s did see an important breakthrough in the boot fitting system developed by Phil Oren and the use of Superfeet and similar supportive footbeds.

Clothing

Rohan clothing, Karrimor Condor pack. Continental Divide Trail, 1985

If there is one product that symbolises the difference between 1978 and now it is Gore-Tex. Waterproofs then were made from non-breathable neoprene or polyurethane coated nylon. After a day wearing one of these the inside would be running with condensation. When The Great Outdoors was brand new so was Gore-Tex. In the first issue Robin Adshead (a leading backpacking writer at the time and author of Backpacking In Britain, which I still have) reported on the 1977 COLA Show at which Gore-Tex was launched with garments from Berghaus and Mountain Equipment. Robin wrote that Gore-Tex "works well on some people in some weather conditions " (with which many would still agree) and said of the Mountain Equipment Cascade jacket that it was "not cheap at £38.50 but if Gore-Tex works, it is well worth the money". By the June issue he was "totally satisfied that Gore-Tex has great advantages over less porous waterproof materials". I was convinced too, having worn a Berghaus Mistral Gore-Tex jacket on my Land's End to John O'Groats walk and been amazed at how dry I stayed inside it.

Gore-Tex didn't sweep non-breathables away immediately though. There were durability problems with first generation Gore-Tex and it was expensive (second generation was much longer lasting but less breathable and no less expensive). Slowly though the idea that wearing waterproofs didn't have to mean soaking in your own sweat became accepted. Competition is always a sign of success and in 1983 the first alternative to Gore-Tex, Entrant, was launched. This was soon followed by others, including Sympatex (called Syntatex in TGO!) in 1986 and Paramo in 1989, and by the end of the decade waterproof/breathable fabrics were the norm.

The other great change was the rise of fleece, a name unheard of in 1978 other than on the backs of sheep, which is ironic in that fleece just about saw the demise of wool shirts and sweaters for most walkers. The change began in 1982 with the launch of Mountain Equipment's Thermofleece, followed soon afterwards by Ultimate Equipment's Polapelt. Ultrafleece, still in my opinion one of the best fleece fabrics, appeared in 1984 as did Patagonia's Bunting, which turned into Synchilla a year later. (To be accurate Patagonia had started the fleece revolution some years earlier in the USA but hadn't been available here before). Then 1986 saw the first Malden Mills Polarplus (now Polartec) garments from Berghaus and The North Face and the place of fleece in outdoor wardrobes was assured.

Before fleece there was fibre-pile, a somewhat shaggy, scruffy fabric, though with a better warmth to weight ratio, and after fleece there is still fibre-pile. Indeed the latest fluffy fleeces look more like pile, as it became shortened to, than previous fleece fabrics. Some people never abandoned pile however and paralleling the rise of fleece was the rise of Buffalo with its Pertex/pile garments which were first launched in 1986 and which is still going. The man behind Buffalo, Hamish Hamilton, was also the discoverer of the properties of Pertex (and before that the designer of the original cotton Force Ten tents for Vango).

Chris Ainsworth on a ski tour in the Alps, 1983. Rohan Super Strider breeches and Rohan shirt. This photo was used in a Rohan catalogue.

As well as wool shirts and sweaters and clammy non-breathable waterproofs the walker of the 1970s wore thick baggy tweed or corduroy breeches or trousers. Then along came Paul and Sarah Howcroft and a company called Rohan, just starting out when TGO was launched. Firstly Rohan replaced itchy, heavy wool legwear with stretchy brushed nylon Super Striders, at the time the best cold weather legwear available and the first softshell garments (though the name wasn't used back then). Then for summer came lightweight polycotton trousers and breeches, derided by many (including some who were to make their own versions a few years later) as far too light and flimsy for serious use. They were wrong. My first ever gear review, in the April '79 The Great Outdoors, was of Rohan Summer Striders. I concluded that these polycotton breeches were ideal for summer and went on to wear the trouser length versions, the now-famous Bags, for Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail through-hikes.

Polycotton dominated lightweight clothing in the 1980s but in 1989 the first synthetic microfibre nylon and polyester clothing was launched and this has taken over, though polycotton is still around. 

On the Continental Divide Trail, 1985, Rohan Moving On windshirt and Bags trousers.

Rucksacks

Small rucksacks were much simpler affairs back in 1978. Most were just simple nylon or canvas bags with shoulder straps. A few had padded backs but it was to be another ten years before these were standard whilst internal stiffening, zip round openings, sternum straps and waist straps were all well in the future. Even further away was the rebellion against complex and heavy packs with ultralightweight ones that went back to 1970s designs but using much lighter fabrics.

Towering rigid pack frames were still popular for backpacking in 1978 - there's one on the cover of the first The Great Outdoors - though Berghaus were making some inroads into the belief that such frames were needed for heavy load carrying with their internal framed Cyclops rucksacks, a range that, with modifications, is still available today. Karrimor had launched the first Jaguar packs in 1976 but their top-of-the range models were still external frame models as can be seen by their two full-page advertisements in the first The Great Outdoors. By 1983 these external frames had vanished and the first Condor packs had arrived. The company that launched the first internal frame packs, Lowe Alpine, first appeared in Britain in 1978. By the mid -1980s the pack frame had just about vanished in Britain though there were still plenty about in the USA and Scandinavia. And by the late '80s the first packs designed specifically for women were available, Jenny Roberts giving the Berghaus Lady Pulsar 65 a positive review in the December 1988 The Great Outdoors.

Dave Rhebehn with external frame pack in the High Sierra on the Pacific Crest Trail, 1982

Some things don't change though. "There seems, however, to be some discrepancy in the methods used by rival makers to find the capacity of their bags," complained Robin Adshead in the first issue of The Great Outdoors. There still is.

Tents

Phoenix Phreeranger tent, Therm-A-Rest, Rohan clothing on my length of the Canadian Rockies walk, 1988

Along with the demise of the pack frame backpackers also saw the demise of the ridge tent, the standard in 1978. When I wrote the piece in 1991 ridge tents and pyramid tents were rare and seemed very old-fashioned, though they have now returned with the use of trekking poles as tent poles. The big names in lightweight tents in 1978 were Saunders and Ultimate with Vango Force Tens on the heavyweight side. In the May '78 The Great Outdoors Robin Adshead praised the Ultimate Tramp, a sloping ridge model with an A pole at the front, as a "first-rate shelter". I agreed, using one on my Land's End to John O'Groats walk. Flexible poles were coming though and in June 1980 Robin Adshead was reviewing the VE24, a geodesic dome from The North Face. At the same time new companies started to make the running with tunnel tents on offer from Phoenix and Wintergear. Even Rohan got in on the act with a geodesic dome called Xanadu though it never reached the shops. Reviewing the new designs in February 1981 Cameron McNeish wrote presciently that "hoop tents and domes will, I suspect, proliferate in the next few years". Of the many designs, some quite weird and wonderful, that appeared in the early 1980s two were especially significant and haven't been bettered since. Single hoop tents, typified by the Phoenix Phreerunner (1982) and Saunders Spacepacker (1983), gave the most space for weight of any design for solo and lightweight backpackers while the stretched geodesic dome shape of the Wintergear Sapphire has become the standard for lightweight mountain tents. The last name probably isn't familiar but all will be clear when I say that the Sapphire was renamed the Quasar a few years later.

Phoenix Phreerunner Gore-Tex single hoop tent, Karrimor Condor pack, Rohan clothing. Pyrenees, 1987

Sleeping Bags/Mats

Compared with tents and packs developments in sleeping bags have been less dramatic. Down is still the lightest, warmest, most durable filling though synthetics have improved enormously since Holofill was launched in the autumn of 1977. The mummy shape, only found on top-of -the-range bags in 1978, is now found even on budget bags.

In my view the major development was in sleeping mats rather than bags with the arrival in Britain in 1978 of the first Therm-A-Rest self-inflating mats. Using one of these left Robin Adshead so carried away that he quoted Shakespeare: "For this relief, much thanks" (The Great Outdoors September 1978). Having used a Therm-A-Rest on many long distance walks since 1981 I can only agree.

Stoves

In 1978 we cooked on ALP and Camping Gaz butane stoves, Optimus paraffin stoves, Svea 123 petrol stoves and Trangia meths stoves. All bar the first are still available. The two big changes have been the replacement of pure butane in cartridges with butane/propane mixes, which work better in cold weather, and the introduction in 1979 of the first MSR stove, the GK, with its unique use of the fuel bottle as the fuel tank. Now this design is standard with models available from Coleman, Primus and Optimus.

Accessories

Two accessories undreamt of in 1978 typified the walker of the 1990s, though their use was still controversial. The first and most visual was trekking poles, which rose in popularity extremely quickly. The first feature on these appeared in February 1992 and it reflected the fact that the writer (myself) only used a single pole at the time. However by December 1994 editor Cameron McNeish was appearing on the cover using a pair of poles, a picture that, along with other covers, provoked one anti-pole reader to accuse the magazine of promoting their use (which of course we were, along with that of walking footwear, rucksacks and other items).

The other and even more controversial item was the GPS receiver, a development first commented on in the September 1992 issue when Roger Smith, reviewing the £679 Trimble Ensign, wrote that it was "a development we shall watch with great interest, but for the time being, don't throw your maps and compasses away". The advice is still valid.

Conclusion

This rather breathtaking rush through many years of gear leaves me with two thoughts. The first is that I believe that some (note that some!) gear really has improved. I wouldn't like to go back to wearing itchy wool breeches, sweaty non-breathable waterproofs and heavy, stiff, tiring clodhopper boots. I'd also rather carry a stable internal frame pack than a swaying top heavy external frame.

But my final thoughts are that gear doesn't really matter. It's only a tool, a means to an end. The wild places, the glorious hills and awe inspiring forests through which our narrow trails wind, are still out there, still the reason we carry packs and camp wild. When it comes down to it which rucksack, which footwear and which shelter we use really don't matter. Being out there. That's what it's all about.

Performance, Durability & Lightweight Gear

Tarp camping on the Arizona Trail

As my last piece on lightening the load has proved popular here's a piece that first appeared in TGO magazine looking at the performance and durability of lightweight gear.

Two myths appear regularly when weight is discussed by backpackers. The first is that lighter gear means lower performance. The second is that lighter gear means lower durability. Both are untrue if the right gear is selected.  Lighter gear may mean fewer features and lighter materials - not necessarily disadvantages – but it doesn’t have to mean poorer performance or greater fragility and shorter life.

Choosing the lightest equipment means knowing the weights of alternatives. This can be difficult as too many companies and shops don’t give the weights of many items, especially clothing, and when they do they are often inaccurate (and not only in one direction despite what you might cynically think).  The weights of tents, sleeping bags and stoves are usually given, those of fleeces, waterproofs and socks rarely so. Yet some fleeces and waterproofs weigh more than some sleeping bags (and a few waterproofs weigh more than the lightest tents) and socks can weigh as much as a stove so the weight of these items does matter if you’re trying to reduce how much you carry. Hefting items in each hand can be a help but it’s better to take scales into the shop with you and check the weights yourself. But surely, you may be thinking, the difference in weight between comparable fleece jackets, say, is hardly enough to matter. On its own this is true but a few grams here and a few grams there soon add up. In one fleece test I did the lightest Polartec 100 fleece weighed 267 grams while the heaviest weighed 337 grams. That’s a mere 70 grams difference but if ten items all weigh that much more than alternatives it becomes 700 grams, which in a light load is significant. The 70 grams gets you a full length zip and two handwarmer pockets but no extra warmth. Often the weight is more than 70 grams too. Take stoves for example. A simple screw-in gas stove can vary in weight from around 250 grams to less than 100 grams. Thus it’s possible to save 150 grams + by choosing one similar stove over another. 

Lightweight Camping On The GR20 in Corsica

With some items lighter weight actually means increased performance. Down filled clothing and sleeping bags are much lighter than equivalent synthetic filled ones. Shell fabrics, down quality and features make a difference between down items too.  In one review I tested two vests with the same loft yet one weighed 227 grams and the other 551 grams. You could carry two of the first and still save weight on the second! A heavier shell and down with a lower fill power were the main reasons for the weight difference. 

Wild Camp In The North-West Highlands

Increased performance can also mean increased durability. Some lightweight gear will actually last longer than heavier gear. Down is a case in point, being far longer lasting than synthetic fills. The lightest tents are usually harder wearing and longer lasting than heavier ones because they have flysheets made from silicone nylon and this fabric is far tougher than the heavier polyurethane coated nylon and polyester used in other tents. (All the shelters pictured are made from silicone nylon).

A lightweight Dyneema pack

Of course lighter weight doesn’t automatically mean better performance or greater durability so care needs to be taken when selecting gear. A thinner sleeping bag won’t be as warm as a thicker one, whatever the fill. A tent so small you can’t sit up won’t be as comfortable as one in which you can. Packs made from ultralight ripstop nylon aren’t as abrasion or tear resistant as Cordura nylon ones. However Dyneema Gridstop, identifiable by the white grid of polyethylene threads, is both very light and just as strong as heavier pack materials.

None of this is to say that the heavier items are no good. Far from it. Many are top quality products that perform well and might be considered by any backpacker. However by choosing the lightest alternative you can save many kilos. And I would argue that the performance and durability of many light items is in no way inferior to that of the heaviest ones. Choose carefully and you can reduce the weight of your load a great deal without any loss in performance and durability of your gear.

A Comfortable Lightweight Camp On A Rainy Day

If you found this and my previous post interesting take a look at these older posts:

How Light Is Safe

Ultralight, Lightweight, Traditional .... Or Maybe Just Backpacking?

How New Is Lightweight Backpacking?

Thoughts On Lightening A Backpacking Load

On the Pacific Northwest Trail

This is a feature I wrote for The Great Outdoors several years ago. At this time of year when many people are planning their spring and summer backpacking trips I thought it might be of interest

There is only one reason to reduce your pack weight and that is to make carrying it easier and more comfortable. If you don’t notice the weight on your back then reducing its weight is not going to achieve anything. A lighter weight load has no intrinsic superiority over a heavier one. But most of us do notice the weight on our backs and would be happy to reduce it, if that could be done without compromising safety or comfort (or costing a fortune). The lighter the load, the more enjoyable the walking. The question is how to lower the weight without making sacrifices that result in getting wet or cold because your clothing is inadequate or spending sleepless nights wriggling about on hard ground because your sleeping mat is too thin. Of course, as the saying goes, any fool can be uncomfortable and that can apply regardless of the weight of your gear. Indeed, in some cases lighter options perform better than heavier ones. A good down filled sleeping bag will keep you warmer than a much heavier synthetic one for example.

What does your load weigh?

The lighter your pack the further you can walk without feeling tired or your legs and feet aching. This doesn’t mean that lightening the load is only for those who want to cover big distances every day. Walking the same distance with a lighter load means you are fresher at the end of the day and more able to enjoy time in camp. You’re less likely to feel stiff the next day too. And the heavier the load, the more often you’ll need to stop for a rest and the sooner you’ll want to make camp. On the flat you probably won’t actually walk much slower with a heavy load but you will uphill - much, much slower.  

There are three ways to reduce the weight of an item. The first and most effective is not to carry it in the first place. That’s a 100% cut in its weight. However whilst this might work for spare clothing you don’t really need it’s not a good idea for your waterproof jacket, which you only hope you don’t need. The second way is to customise an item so it weighs less (see below). The third is to replace it with a lighter alternative. The often recommended way of going about the first option is to separate gear after a trip into stuff you used and stuff you didn’t use. I don’t actually think this is very helpful. Your first aid kit will hopefully be in the pile of stuff you didn’t use. That doesn’t mean you won’t need it next time. If it didn’t rain your waterproof jacket will be there too. And in the pile of stuff you did use there might be the spare warm top you wore in the tent but which you wouldn’t have missed if it had been left at home. Instead of this approach I suggest listing what you needed or might have needed and what you didn’t need. This is where you need to be ruthless. Many backpackers carry lots of spare clothing, maybe adding up to a kilo or more. Most of it isn’t actually needed. “Nice to have” and “need” are not the same. Once you’ve made such a list consider the “not needed” items to see which ones you would really, really miss. These are luxury items that add enough pleasure to a trip to be worth their weight. If you think you’ll enjoy the trip less without them transfer them to the “needed” column. I always used to carry a book to read in the tent when it was dark or stormy or even during long uninteresting road walks. A book obviously wasn't essential but I know from when I finished one before I reached anywhere I could buy another that I felt deprived without it. So for me a paperback or two was worth the weight. These days books have been replaced by an e-reader, again something that might seem unnecessary to others but which I wouldn't be without.

What can be discarded are bits of gear that are often carried out of habit. Do you really need a candle in midsummer, enough dressings to cover a thousand blisters, the survival bag from your daysack when you have a tent? Don’t carry stuff just in case it might come in useful. It’s also worth looking for dual purpose items. Instead of that survival bag you could wrap yourself in the tent in the remote chance that you need emergency shelter where you can’t pitch it.  Clothes in a stuffsack make a serviceable pillow. If the weather is unseasonably cold socks can be worn as mittens. A small cooking pot can double as a mug and a bowl for a solo backpacker. Rather than a sleeping bag liner take a thin set of base layers that can also be worn during the day in chilly weather.

In the Western Highlands on the TGO Challenge

The traditional cliché about lightening your load by customising gear is to cut the handle off your toothbrush. Even if you’ve saved every other gram you can that still wouldn’t make a noticeable difference however. Saving a few grams per item on many pieces of gear does add up but even then it probably won’t be very significant. It’s all about how it feels on your back. Only if your load is already ultralight – under 5kg say – will you notice tiny reductions in the weight of gear that isn’t very heavy to start with. It’s the big items that matter – pack, tent, sleeping bag, sleeping mat, stove. If together these weigh 6-9kg, as they easily can, shaving a few grams off a cooking pot or a pair of socks isn’t worth the effort. Knowing the actual weight of your gear is a starting point – and I mean weighing it yourself, not assuming makers’ weights are correct as they often aren’t and when wrong they tend to be on the low side. And don’t assume that if an item is described as lightweight it actually is – some companies have peculiar ideas as to what lightweight means. Also, look at what is included in the weight. The minimum weights for some tents don’t include pegs. There can be a weight variance in the same products too. If you take your scales into the shop you can weigh the specific item you’re buying.

If you already have the main backpacking items aren’t you stuck with that weight? Not necessarily. Gear can be customised to reduce its weight a little. Straps you never use on a pack can be cut off and maybe the frame can be removed – at least for those shorter trips when the overall weight isn’t high to begin with – and also the lid. Tents often come with hefty pegs and thick guylines that can be replaced with much lighter weight ones. If it’s a two-skin tent perhaps the inner can be left behind and a simple groundsheet used instead, which not only saves weight but gives you extra space. Sleeping bags are harder to customise though I do have one friend who removed the zip and turned his bag into a quilt. All this done you still won’t make a big dent in the weight of the big items so these are the ones that you might well plan on replacing over time if you really want to cut the weight you carry. Again, check the weight and look at alternatives. If your empty pack or your tent weighs over 2kg, as many models do, there are plenty of lighter alternatives that will perform as well. However if your pack or tent weighs 1kg or less then the options for weight reduction are much less. It makes sense to first replace those items where the most weight can be saved.

Keeping weight in mind when choosing gear is a way to avoid being seduced by amazing but heavy designs. Lighter gear usually means simpler designs. Bells and whistles add weight. They may seem functional but ask yourself if you really need them. How many pockets on clothing or on your pack do you actually use? Do you need reinforced clothing designed for mountaineering or a tent that will withstand a blizzard on the Cairngorm Plateau for backpacking a long distance footpath in summer?

Camped by Lochan Fada on a spring trip in the NW Highlands

Looking at the big items let’s start with the pack itself. Heavy packs are great for heavy loads. But if you’re load is around 10 kilos, say, you don’t need a pack designed to carry 20 kilos. Lighter loads are usually more compact loads so your pack needn’t be as big, which also saves weight. A guide I’ve used for years is that a pack shouldn’t weigh more than 10% of the total load (that is, with food and water as well as gear). So for that 10 kilo load the empty pack should weigh no more than a kilo. With shelters a solo model needn’t weigh more than 1.5kg and many weigh much less. Sleeping bags for temperatures above freezing needn’t weigh more than 800 grams and sleeping mats no more than 400 grams. So the total weight of these four big items of gear needn’t reach 4kg (in his book Smarter Backpacking Jorgen Johansson sets a target of 3 kilos for these items – I think this is ambitious, though I achieved it on the Pacific Northwest Trail, those items weighing 2.9kg, at least until I changed my pack for a more supportive but heavier one and the weight went up by nearly half a kilo).

Having been tempted by heavy gear myself in the past – my pack weight went up during the 1980s and early 90s with tent, pack, stove, pans and clothing all increasing in weight – I set myself maximum target weighs for every item of gear. If something weighs more than this I reject it immediately. And I try hard to get the weight well under this target.

I also have a target for the maximum my pack should weigh for a trip, without food, water or camera gear (of which I carry more than most for photos for articles and books). This base weight doesn’t vary with the length of the trip, just with the season.  For 3-season backpacking (May to October inclusive) my target is 7kg, which was my base weight for the Pacific Northwest Trail. In colder weather it goes up by at least a kilo due to more clothing and warmer sleeping bag. When there’s snow and ice on the hills another kilo is added for ice axe and crampons. This is all for solo backpacking. Duos who share tent and cooking gear should be able to knock at least a kilo off those weights.

Lightweight camping in Glen Feshie on the TGO Challenge

Finally, don’t forget footwear. A kilo on your feet equals two or three kilos on your back. Going from 2 kilo traditional boots to 1 kilo lightweight boots or trail shoes is the same as knocking a kilo off your empty pack weight and a kilo off your tent weight. I’d reduce footwear weight before anything else. As indeed I did many years ago on the Pacific Crest Trail when I discovered that carrying my boots and walking in the running shoes I’d brought for camp and town wear was less tiring even though the weight on my back went up by over a kilo.