Articles (2020)

Tenkara for Backpackers: State of the Market Report – Part 1

A look at the best rods to bring into the Backcountry. It may not be what you think. Sometimes the best combination takes into account both the weight and the reach of the rod.

This article has been broken into 2 parts:

Introduction

If the word “tenkara” really means “from Heaven” it’s probably just shorthand for “God’s Gift to Backpackers.” Tenkara may be the best thing to hit the backpacking world since freeze-dried food. Of course, if you seriously compare a dinner of fresh trout to a pot of “rehydrated, freeze-dried whatever”, I think the trout would win every time. If your backpacking takes you along or even just across a mountain stream or to an alpine lake, tenkara is way better than freeze dried food.

Although tenkara is a centuries old pursuit in Japan, it is still relatively new in the US, having only been introduced in 2009. In the few short years since then, however, the number of available tenkara rods has expanded dramatically from only a handful of rods from only one company to dozens of rods from upwards of a dozen companies. This article will provide an overview of some of the rods and other gear that might be of interest to backpackers.

Rods

Before jumping straight into descriptions of individual rods, I would like to introduce a couple of terms that many readers may not have seen before. I suspect most by are now are familiar with “Tenkara” and know that it is fly fishing with a long rod, no reel and the line tied to the rod tip. (There are nuances, and the discussion of what is and isn’t true tenkara still goes on, but let’s stick to the basics for now.)

- 1
Backpacking Light Hane – the first tenkara rod for backpackers.

In addition to Tenkara, there are two closely related fishing styles, also traditional in Japan, called Keiryu and Seiryu. The word “keiryu” is translated as “mountain stream” and “seiryu” as “clear stream.” Although mountain streams are certainly also clear, the connotation of Seiryu is of a more placid stream rather than the high gradient rushing mountain stream. Both also utilize a rod with no guides and no reel, and with the line tied to the rod tip.

Keiryu fishing and tenkara fishing are both done in high gradient mountain streams and both target the same fish. In a party of several anglers, there might be some who are tenkara fishing and some who are keiryu fishing. The primary difference is that tenkara fishing is done with flies and keiryu fishing is done with live bait, often using nymphs gathered from under rocks in the stream they are fishing, the ultimate in “matching the hatch.”

With an unweighted fly, tenkara is largely limited to the top few inches of the water column. If there is a plunge pool you can use the plunging water to pull your fly deeper, but without one you can only cast further upstream, giving your fly a bit more time to sink. An unweighted fly is just not going to sink very far, though. Keiryu fishing, on the other hand, utilizes split shot so it is quite possible to fish just off the bottom, whether in runs or in pools. Keiryu rods tend to be stiffer than tenkara rods, I suspect partially because you need a stiffer rod to fish effectively with added weight and to get good hook sets when fishing in deeper water.

In the US, very few people use keiryu rods for bait fishing. Most choose keiryu rods to fish weighted nymphs and to handle larger fish. Some keiryu rods offer a distinct advantage for backpackers – collapsing to a shorter length than any tenkara rod.

Seiryu fishing, on the other hand, targets smaller species and is done in more placid streams. For those reasons, seiryu rods are generally softer than tenkara rods. They are not well suited to fishing heavily weighted nymphs or to big wind resistant flies. They can’t handle big fish. They don’t collapse to a short, convenient length. Why then, you might ask, would any backpacker be interested in a seiryu rod? How about a full fishing kit that weighs just 2 oz (57 g) – including the rod, line, tippet, flies and fly box? Interested now?

Which class of rod – tenkara, keiryu or seiryu is the best choice for you depends on where and how you will fish and what you will catch, and on which attributes are most important to you. Every rod is a compromise.

The rods that follow were chosen primarily for two criteria – weight and collapsed length, with lighter weight and shorter collapsed length being better. I have recently found a very nice rod that I like quite a lot, but it only collapses to about 43 in (109.2 cm). It’s not a rod for backpackers and it’s not on the list. Similarly, there is a very popular rod that weighs almost 4 oz (113 g). At that weight, it’s not on the list either.

Tenkara rods come in a variety of lengths, and both keiryu and seiyru rods come in an even greater variety of lengths. I have chosen the 10.8 ft (3.3 m) length to try to be consistent. Most tenkara anglers use longer rods, but longer is heavier. Plus, you can add fishing distance with a longer line – which weighs a lot less than a longer rod.

The choice of rod may depend on whether you are a fisherman who backpacks or a backpacker who fishes. The fisherman may choose a longer, heavier rod. I suspect many backpackers will want to save the weight and will gladly pack a shorter rod. Ounces add up. Only one of the rods that I’ve highlighted weighs over 3 oz (85 g) and many are closer to two (some are less than one). To some extent, the following list does reflect my personal preferences. It includes rods I like a lot and rods that I don’t particularly care for but which needed to be included to provide a more complete picture. There are many rods that are not included. There was a time when I was personally familiar with every tenkara rod sold in the US, but there are just too many now and new models are offered all the time it seems.

Tenkara Rods

Tenkara rods are the standard – what most people have and what most people know. They were first on the scene and do offer advantages. Most tenkara rods are 11 ft to 14.5 ft (3.35 m to 4.42 m) in length when fully extended, around 20 in (51 cm) when collapsed, and have cork grips. There are (or were) exceptions to each one of those characteristics, but they describe most tenkara rods. Most tenkara rods are well suited to casting a light line and fishing an unweighted fly. Because of the soft rod tip required for casting a light line, most do not do well with heavily weighted flies. Tenkara rods are often rated by a 5:5, 6:4, 7:3 ratio that supposedly indicates what percentage of the rod is stiffer and what percentage is softer. I have not included those ratings here because not all companies use them and even among the companies that do use them they are not at all consistent from one company to the next. Including the rating without substantial additional explanation for each particular rod is more misleading than leaving it out. If a rod is particularly stiff or soft I have noted it in the description.

Backpacking Light Hane

This is the granddaddy of backpacking tenkara rods. As far as I know, it is the first, last and only tenkara rod specifically designed for backpacking. The rod has been discontinued and is only rarely available on the used market, but is included out of respect and as a benchmark. The Hane is 10 ft (3 m) extended (the initial marketing materials showed 9 ft 10 in (270 cm) but my Hane measures 10 ft 2 in (310 cm)), 16 in (41 cm) collapsed and weighs 2.7 oz (77 g). The action is extremely stiff for a tenkara rod, but given that Ryan Jordan’s fishing kit when the rod was designed included split shot, the stiff action is quite understandable. Rods that collapse to a shorter-than-normal length, as the Hane does, also tend to be stiff. If you will be fishing with split shot or heavily weighted nymphs and want a cork grip on your rod, the Hane is still a very reasonable choice – if you can find one.

Daiwa NEO LT33SC and LL32SC

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Daiwa NEO LT33SC collapses to 16 ¾ in (43 cm) which is short for a tenkara rod.

The NEO is Daiwa’s line of starter rods. They come in LL and LT versions, with the LL standing for Level Line and the LT for Level Line or Tapered Line. I’ll cover lines very briefly later, but tapered lines are almost uniformly heavier than level lines, and the rods designed to cast them are stiffer than rods intended for level lines. The NEO LT33SC is a relatively stiff rod, as tenkara rods go, but it is not as stiff as the Hane. Still, it would be a good choice if most of your fishing will be with weighted nymphs. One thing the NEO LT33SC has going for it is that when collapsed it is a relatively short 16 ¾ in (43 cm) (the only reason it made the list). Unfortunately, it’s a relatively heavy 3.5 oz (99 g). The NEO LL32SC is a full flex rod that is much better at fishing unweighted flies – the classic tenkara approach. It is quite a bit lighter than the LT model at 2.8 oz (79 g), but is a relatively long 19 7/16 in (49 cm).

Daiwa Enshou LT33SF

The Enshou series are Daiwa’s premium rods. They are wonderful rods and would be worthy of consideration if you are a serious tenkara angler who backpacks rather than a backpacker who just wants to catch a few fish. The LT33SF is just a bit heavier than some of the other rods, at 2.7 oz (76 g) but the 18 in (46 cm) collapsed length is shorter than most.

Fountainhead Stone Fly 330

This is the rod for the backpacker on a budget. At $75 it is a lot of rod for not a lot of money. It is neither as light, 2.6 oz (73 g), nor as short collapsed, 20 ½ in (52 cm), as many of the other rods but it will certainly get the job done.

Nissin Pro Spec 360

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The Nissin Pro Spec can be fished at two lengths, providing great versatility.

The Pro Spec is new this year from Nissin, one of the few Japanese tenkara rod companies that actually make their rods in Japan. One of the main features of the Pro Spec is that it is designed to be fished at either 10 ft 3 in (3.1 m) or 11 ft 9 in (3.6 m). That gives the ability to easily fish small brushy headwaters and also more wide open streams or beaver ponds. The collapsed length is a bit long at 22 ½ in (57 cm) but at only 2.4 oz (68 g) the rod is very light for a 11 ft 9 in (3.6 m) rod and lighter than many of the 11 ft (3.3 m) rods. The grip is a bit more aggressively shaped than most tenkara rods and is very comfortable. If the 22 ½ in (57 cm) collapsed length is not a deal breaker for you, this rod deserves serious consideration. .The Pro Spec 360 comes in both a 6:4 and a 7:3. Despite my comment that the ratios are not consistent, you can compare two rods of the same model. The 6:4 Pro Spec is a very soft rod. The 7:3 has quite a bit more backbone and would be suitable for larger fish. Still, if you will be catching 16 in – 20 in (41 cm – 51 cm) bruisers in larger rivers with fast currents you’d want a beefier rod.

Nissin Zerosum 320

The Zerosum 320 is the lightest true “tenkara” rod at this length, weighing in at only 2.1 oz (60 g). The light weight is unfortunately offset by a relatively long 22 1/8 in (56 cm) collapsed length. It is a very light, very responsive rod, though, and if you are fishing for relatively small fish in the headwaters, this is one to consider. Like the Pro Spec, the rod comes in 6:4 or 7:3. The 6:4 is a pretty soft rod. The 7:3 has more backbone but is not a big fish rod for large streams and fast currents.

Ruta Locura Clarkii

If you crossed a tenkara rod with a trekking pole, this is what you’d get. If you already had or wanted to have the Yana trekking pole (the trek- part of this trek-kara pole) or the Gossamer Gear LT4 pole, which can be used with an adapter, the Clarkii might make good sense. I say might because I do not have first-hand experience with it. The Clarkii rod (not counting the trekking pole) weighs only 1.3 oz (37 g) and collapses to 20 in (51 cm), though, which in and of itself makes the rod a contender. There are very few comments on the net about the Clarkii, and even fewer that compare it to a regular tenkara rod. That’s not much to go on. I really don’t know what to make of a Yamame / Yana hybrid. I suspect it might be a mule – strong but sterile.

Shimano LLS33NB

The Shimano LLS33NB and LLS36NB are Shimano’s entry level rods. One generally thinks an “entry level” anything is likely to be a cheapened stripped down version of the real thing, but this Shimano is a very nice rod. It is light at just 2.3 oz (65 g), has a wonderful action – crisp and responsive, and collapses to a shorter length, 19 9/16 in (50 cm), than any of the tenkara rods other than the Daiwas. The Shimano NB is definitely worthy of serious consideration.

Shimano LLS33NX

The LLS33NX and LLS36NX are Shimano’s premium rods. Shimano does make two high end “zoom” rods, the “main stream” ZE and “mountain stream” ZL, which like the Nissin Pro Spec can be fished at two different lengths, but neither one collapses to a short enough length to seriously consider as backpacking rods. The NX rods, though, at 2.3 oz (65 g) and 19 3/4 in (50 cm) collapsed, are very nice rods. Considering the quality of the rod, the weight and the collapsed length, they are probably the nicest tenkara rods for backpackers.

Shimotsuke Tenkara 3.3

The Tenkara 3.3 and 3.6 are starter rods from Shimotsuke, a rod company that is known in Japan but not well known here in the US. The rod is a good basic all around rod with a nice action. The rod is one of the more inexpensive rods with 2.6 oz (74 g) and 20 1/2 in (52 g) stats that are neither the best nor the worst. The rod is available separately or as part of a kit along with line, tippet, flies and a 0.7 oz (20 g) fly box.

Tenkara USA 11 ft Iwana

Unfortunately, this rod has been discontinued. In order to get an 11 ft (3.35 m) Iwana you will have to buy the 12 ft (3.65 m) Iwana and also buy a replacement grip that will convert it into the shorter rod. At 2.3 oz (65 g) the 11 ft (3.35 m) Iwana is the same weight as the Shimano rods but its collapsed length of 20 ½ in (52 cm) is a bit longer. The rod comes with a hard case, which you’ll probably never take with you because of the extra weight. It also comes with the strongest warranty and cheapest replacement parts so if you are going to break a tenkara rod, break this one.

Keiryu Rods

Keiryu rods vary much more widely than tenkara rods, ranging from under 6.5 ft to 20 ft (2 m to over 6 m). In general they are stiffer than tenkara rods and have a nonskid finish right on the rod blank rather than a cork grip. Although they are used primarily for bait fishing in Japan, some of them cast a tenkara line quite nicely. Because they do tend to be stiffer than the most tenkara rods, they will do better with a heavier level line or a furled line.

Why choose a keiryu rod rather than the better known tenkara rod? Most of the rods I outline below collapse to a very compact length and will easily fit entirely within even a modest daypack. Most are also available in shorter lengths and the shorter the rod the less it weighs. If you will be fishing smaller headwaters streams, you may not need a longer rod, and you might very definitely appreciate a lighter rod. If you will be fishing with split shot or with weighted nymphs, you may also appreciate a keiryu rod’s relatively stiffer rod tip.

Daiwa Kiyose 33SF

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Daiwa Kiyose 33SF excels at fishing weighted nymphs.

Just as the Hane was the first tenkara rod available in the US geared to backpackers, the Daiwa Kiyose SF was the first keiryu rod available in the US that appeals directly to backpackers. Like the Hane, it is a relatively stiff rod, perhaps a bit stiffer than you’d want or need for dry flies or unweighted wets, but it excels at fishing weighted nymphs. It can easily cast the heavier line you might want on windy high mountain lakes. It is just as good as the Hane at fishing with split shot or weighted nymphs but weighs less at 2.3 oz (65 g), packs smaller at 15 ½ in (39 cm), and will still slide into the shaft of your packraft paddle.

Shimano Kozuka 33NT

The Kozuka NT packs even smaller than the Kiyose at only 14 ° in (37 cm) when collapsed, and weighs the same at 2.3 oz (65 g). The tip cap has a clever built-in line holder so you don’t have to pack a separate tenkara line holder or pair of Fuji EZ Keepers. The rod is not quite as stiff as the Kiyose, making it a better choice for all around fishing. I think this is a nicer rod than the Kiyose and is a serious contender for the best backpacking rod.

Shimotsuke Kiyotaki 27

Although the Kiyotaki comes in the same 11 ft (3.3 m) length as the Kiyose and Kozuka rods, only shorter lengths are readily available in the US (longer ones can be ordered). The 9 ft (2.7 m) rod is short for a tenkara rod. The shorter length makes sense if you will be fishing small, brushy headwater streams or Eastern streams that have a low canopy of overhead branches. With this rod you do not get the casting distance you do with any of the other rods outlined here, but you do get a 1.5 oz (43 g) rod that packs down to just 15 ° in (39 cm) and can get your fly into some of the tighter places that other anglers can’t fish. Like the other keiryu rods, the Kiyotaki is a little stiffer than most tenkara rods. The rod is a bit heavier than the sieyru rods, but is capable of landing much larger fish.

Suntech Suikei 39 (stiff)

The Suntech Suikei is unique among the rods available in the US in that it is a three position zoom rod. The (stiff) notation is provided because it also comes in a softer version that is not currently available. It is designed to be fished at 10.5, 12, or 13 ft (3.2, 3.6, or 3.9 m). That provides extreme versatility in matching one rod to a wide variety of streams or mountain lakes. The cloud surrounding that silver lining is that the rod is heavier than most, is stiffer than most and is longer than most when collapsed, 2.8 oz (79 g) and 21 3/8 in (54 cm). The rod might be worth considering for its versatility, but it is not really what I think of as a backpacking rod. (I would consider a backpacking rod to be lightweight and a short collapsed length.)

Seiryu Rods

Finally, we have the seiryu rods, which truly are specialty rods. They do not collapse to a short, convenient length, and they really are intended for relatively small fish. The only reason I’ve included them is that for the small wild trout you find in the headwaters, they are by far the most fun to fish with. Plus, of course, they weigh less than half what any of the tenkara rods weigh. If you want an ultralight fishing kit, and you will be backpacking to or through an area where the trout are generally just 7 in – 10 in (18 cm to 25 cm), and a 24 in (61 cm) collapsed length isn’t a deal breaker, they are worth considering.

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A most memorable catch – 7 in fish.

The three rods I’ve listed here are really pretty similar. All are 9.5 ft (2.9 m) which is actually a reasonably good length for many of the willow choked small headwaters streams. All weigh just about one ounce. The biggest difference, other than the color of the paint, is the action. The Shimotsuke is a full flex rod, the Nissin is a mid flex and the Suntech is a tip flex. All are soft rods, though and all will do very well casting unweighted wets on a light line. I have fished small beadhead nymphs with them but they are better with standard wet flies. I really love these rods, but for backpacking I am a bit concerned about the 23 ½ in (60 cm) collapsed length. Depending on how much you are willing to sacrifice to save an ounce, you might find the length acceptable, and depending on how much you are willing to sacrifice to have an 8 in (20 cm) brookie give you a whale of a fight, nothing else might matter. One of the most memorable catches I’ve ever had was a 7 in (18 cm) fish on the very soft Shimotsuke “Just One the” Oikawa III – it wasn’t even a trout but boy did it fight. Fishing just doesn’t get much more ultralight than this.

Nissin Air Stage 290 23 5/8 in (60 cm) 0.8 oz (23 g)

Shimotsuke Oikawa III 290 23 5/8 in (60 cm) 0.9 oz (26 g)

Suntech Kurenai 30H 23 ½ (60 cm) 1.0 oz (28 g)

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The Nissin Air Stage 290 is an incredibly light weight rod for small headwaters trout.

At-a-glance: State of the Market of Tenkara Rods

Weight(oz) Collapsed Length (in) Action Price*
Tenkara Rods
Backpacking Light Hane 2.7 16 stiff Discontinued
Daiwa NEO LT33SC 3.5 16 3/4 stiff $195
Daiwa NEO LL32SC 2.8 16 7/16 soft $195
Daiwa Enshou LT33SF 2.7 18 $300
Fountainhead Stone Fly 330 2.6 20 1/2 $75
Nissin Pro Spec 360 2.4 22 1/2 soft (6:4 rod) $195
Nissin Zerosum 320 2.1 22 1/8 soft (6:4 rod) $270
Ruta Locura Clarkii 1.3** 20 stiff $87**
Shimano LLS33NB 2.3 19 9/16 $185
Shimano LLS33NX 2.3 19 3/4 $275
Shimotsuke Tenkara 3.3 2.6 20 1/2 $99
Tenkara USA 11′ Iwana 2.3 20 1/2 $157.95 + $39.95***
Keiryu Rods
Daiwa Kiyose 33SF 2.3 15 1/2 stiff $145
Shimano Kozuka 33NT 2.3 14 1/4 stiff $155
Shimotsuke Kiyotaki 27 1.5 15 1/4 $90
Suntech Suikei 39 (stiff) 2.8 21 3/8 stiff $200
Seiryu Rods
Nissin Air Stage 290 0.8 23 5/8 soft $200
Shimotsuke Oikawa III 290 0.9 23 5/8 soft $165
Suntech Kurenai 30H 1.0 23 1/2 soft $215

* Prices based on published sources. Believed to be accurate at press time but not guaranteed. ** Does not include weight (3.5 oz) or cost ($150) of trekking pole. *** To get an 11 ft rod you must purchase a 12 ft rod and a separate 11 ft grip.

A Philmont Journal – Part 1

Relive the exciting experience that is Philmont.

This article is broken into 5 parts:

  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
  • Part 4
  • Part 5

    • - 1
    Philmont.

    Dedication

    This brief remembrance is dedicated to my friends, Scouts and Scouters all, in whose company I had the good fortune to travel as a member of crew 618-Q:

    • Gary Fujino
    • Terry Heslin
    • Dave Wagers
    • Aaron Rosenthal
    • Kade Wagers
    • Tomio Fujino
    • Matt Spence
    • Robert Fosburg
    • Sam Baskin
    • Jim Baskin
    • Malcolm Heslin

    It is also dedicated to Jeff Dias, my Ranger in 1972, whose kindness, patience and good humor I have never forgotten. Jeff, if you’re still knocking about, there aren’t many days that go by in my role as Scoutmaster of Troop 100 that I do not think of you.

    Those of my companions who look for a perfect agreement between what I have written and what they remember should stop looking. Life sometimes moves in ways that do nothing to advance the narrative arc, so it is possible that certain things may have been massaged a bit. It’s mostly honest though. Cheers fellows.

    TB

    3/28/13

    - 2
    a stunning view.

    Author’s Preface

    I first set foot on Philmont Scout Ranch in 1972. I was 16 years old, skinny and all by myself. I am embarrassed to admit it now, but I did not want to be there, my attendance owing only to the intervention of my father who thought that Philmont would be just the ticket. I was assigned to a crew of similarly situated strangers and with them I hiked the Ranch from south to north, covering over 130 miles during the two weeks of my trek. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. I was ill equipped and suffered for it, but I also got an inkling that equipment was available that would allow more comfortable travel in the backcountry.

    In far off Sun Valley California (or so the label said) Dick Kelty was making iconic frame packs coveted by every Philmont ranger I met. My ranger sported an olive green D4, and soon after my return to Lewiston, Idaho I was to have my own Kelty, a red B4, purchased on advice of another ranger who advocated an undivided pack sack, deriding the compartmentalized pack of the D4 as a marketing gimmick. This guy may have been the first minimalist I met in the backpacking world. Other gear was added incrementally, and before long I realized that backpacking did not need to be physically punishing.

    My memories of my 1972 trek are no longer entirely reliable, and what I do remember of that summer I recall through the filter of an undeniable nostalgia. But I know that in many ways that trek kindled my love affair with travel by foot, and it opened my eyes to what is possible for a thoughtfully equipped walker. Forty years later my enthusiasm for hiking is undiminished, especially as the means to carry less have evolved. However, I find that I do not have any desire to cut my base weight to single digit figures, as seems to be the trend among the ascetics. There are a handful of small items which, though technically not “essential”, I won’t do without, and as the poet said, “what I would not part with, I have kept.”

    In the summer of 2010 I returned to the Ranch as an adult advisor, accompanied by my oldest son and ten other scouts and scouters from Troop 100 out of Boise, Idaho. I have written about that trip elsewhere, devoting a good deal of attention to discussion of gear choices and techniques, but very little to the trip itself.

    In the summer of 2012 I again returned to Philmont with Troop 100, accompanied by both of my sons as we tackled Itinerary 11 as part of crew 618-Q. To pass the time, and as part of an effort to observe things more closely, I kept a daily journal of our experiences on the trail. This trip report is drawn from those entries, in places verbatim. In addition, I have prepared the attached appendices containing descriptions and comments on the crew and individual gear we used.

    Our preparations for this trek were made much easier by the attention we paid to doing things the “Philmont Way” in 2010. Our gear choices were informed and refined by our 2010 experience, and long before we began to train, our scouts had gear recommendations in hand. Three of our Scouts, including my oldest son, were veterans of our 2010 trek, and we relied on them to mentor the younger scouts in all things Philmont. Of the four adult advisors on our Trek, only I had been to the Ranch before. My three companions are experienced backpackers, and have led Troop 100 scouts on many great adventures in Idaho’s backcountry. Paradoxically, this gave me some pause; what would they make of the “Philmont Way”? I warned them what was coming and assured them that our time at the Ranch would pass merrily if they would get their minds right, set aside their notions of how things should be done and accede to the direction of higher authority. In one case this good advice either was not believed or did not sink in. The morning after our disorganized night at Ute Springs camp one of my companions confided that the internal struggle he endured to follow what he regarded as nonsensical instruction from our Ranger made for the worst night he had ever had backpacking.

    Things got better.

    - 3
    Philmont Compass.

    6/18/12: Arriving

    We left Boise at 6 a.m. on June 17, and drove nonstop to the F.E. warren AFB outside of Cheyenne Wyoming. The base is home to 150 Minuteman III ICBMs, which explains both the puzzling absence of runways as well as why the facility nevertheless qualifies as an Air Force Base. The base has a scouting program, and maintains a scout hut to house scouting activities. We arranged to use it as a flop, even though this required us to leave Cheyenne by 4:45 the next morning in order to arrive at Philmont by 11:00 a.m.

    We arrived at the Philmont welcome center at 10:45 a.m. on June 18, a full 15 minutes before our deadline. We were met by an enthusiastic staff who seemed pleased that we had decided to spend part of our summer on the Ranch. After some preliminary paper shuffling our assigned Ranger, JS, appeared, and we were directed to our tent assignments in the “trail Bound” section of tent city. Tent city is quite a sight, and it is easy to get lost in it if one forgets, as I did, to note the row and number of the tent to which you are assigned. Interspersed through this field of platform tents are a number of permanent bath houses, each specifically signed for youth males, youth females, adult males and adult females. Due to drought, water conservation practices were in force, and we were all encouraged to take Navy showers.

    - 4
    Headquarters seen from Tooth Ridge. Tent city is readily visible on the right.

    In the first day at HQ a lot of scurrying about must be done, for that is the only day to complete paperwork, pick up supplies and check gear before the Philmont system inexorably pushes you onto the trail to begin the first day of your trek. It is easy to forget that everyday new crews arrive to begin this process, and everyday Philmont must empty tent city to make room for them. First though, there is lunch, and much to my surprise HQ meals seem to have improved since my last visit. Querying JS about this pleasant development she explained that staff and scouts now eat the same meals at HQ, and I do not doubt that this fact accounts for the improvement I noted. The kitchen staff is full of fun and happy chatter. Sullen drudges they are not, and it is a hopeful sign that we can expect the same attitude from staff on the trail.

    After lunch our crew leader, MH, and I made a quick tour of the camp registration office where all our documents were perused, including our tour plan, wilderness first aid certifications, CPR certifications, medical forms, crew roster, and talent release. With everything in order we appeared at the medical lodge where blood pressure and medications were checked and medical forms gathered.

    - 5
    Philmont dining hall. The food isn’t half bad.

    I was looking forward to our next meeting at Logistics Services, where we would receive detailed advice about our chosen itinerary. There we were introduced to Tom, a Philmont veteran who first set foot on the Ranch as a scout in 1974. We were contemporaries, but rather than turn back the clock with me, he made it clear that his limited time would be spent talking over our trek with MH. I was invited to take a seat in the corner while he and MH pored over the Philmont map I produced from my valise. When I tried to peer over MH’s shoulder to better visualize what was being discussed, I was firmly shooed back to my corner and there I sat until they finished. I got the message. Tom’s dismissal of an adult advisor, who he knew full well, had planned every step of the trip to this moment, unmistakably signaled that from Philmont’s perspective our trek had nothing to do with the four adults in tow. We were incidental. We were hangers on. The show would be run by MH and his crew. Tom’s dismissal was arguably not the most diplomatic way to convey this message, although it was a way. The only time he directed comments to me was when he told me that if we had a scout or scouter who was having “issues”, who was homesick, or who was a troublemaker, it was on us. Philmont would not, under any circumstances, intercede to facilitate retrieval of such a person from the trail. We would simply have to make it work. At any rate, from my corner I was able to listen as Tom took MH step by step through our itinerary, pointing out our resupply points, where to stock up on water for our three dry camps, where to squeeze in our conservation project, where our layover day would be and how to capitalize on program opportunities at each of our staffed camps. It was a concise tutorial, military in its style. I think it snapped MH out of his somnolent travel state.

    At the commissary the crew picked up our first supply of trail food and any crew gear that we had not brought with us. As in 2010, the only Philmont gear we could be troubled to take were the bear bags, which appear to be repurposed grain sacks. There are probably better alternatives to these bags, but they are so abused in the course of a trek that I cannot imagine wanting to substitute something that actually cost money. Because of the peculiarities of our itinerary, we picked up only one day’s worth of food at HQ commissary. We will hit our first resupply on trail day 2 when we reach Ute gulch commissary.

    - 6
    Hoisting bear bags, a daily ritual.

    After picking up these supplies we went back to tent city where JS had us drag our cots outside and spread out all our gear for an item by item pack check. Her list differed from mine, but not by much, and she was fine with our gear selections once she heard our explanations.

    Of course, Philmont would not tie up so much of our time that the boys would not have an opportunity to visit Tooth of Time Traders, and the attached snack bar. It’s an interesting place, representing, on the one hand, a top notch outdoor shop that would make any backpacker salivate, and on the other, a souvenir store full to bursting with Philmont branded kitsch. I purchased a few small gifts and a reproduction of an Ansel Adams photograph of the Ranch taken in 1961.

    - 7
    JS presides over pack check at tent city.

    Late in the afternoon, Mark Anderson, Philmont’s Director of Program, met with all adult advisors scheduled to begin their trek the next day. Among other things, he spoke about current trail conditions, the extended weather forecast and warned us about Philmont’s delicate relationship with bears and mountain lions. By way of illustration, he recounted that in 2011 a Philmont crew on Tooth ridge dropped packs for the quick scramble to the summit of the Tooth of Time. They failed to take any precaution against curious bears and as soon as they abandoned their packs, a curious bear arrived and helped herself. From the signal failure of that crew, this sow and her cub learned to associate food with scout packs, and the pair has been a problem in Tooth Ridge camp ever since. For the rest of the 2011 season Philmont dispatched a pair of slingshot equipped rangers to Tooth Ridge camp every night to dissuade these bears.

    Anderson also reiterated the message delivered by Tom in Logistics, although with more tact. He warned that adult impatience with adolescent dithering would manifest as adult interference in crew decision making. This is assuredly a bad thing, since the whole point of the drill is to make the boys figure everything out. He gave us a mantra to recite, “we are on vacation”, and suggested that any time we felt the need to butt in we should assume a contemplative stance, wander over to the nearest ponderosa pine and concentrate on trying to figure out whether the bark smells of butterscotch or vanilla. In the end, the only important function adults serve is to keep the scouts safe from harm, should their attempts to figure things out lead them into dangerous territory.

    Later, we enjoyed a perfectly acceptable dinner, followed by chapel. Our first day at HQ concluded with the opening campfire which included a number of short set pieces portraying historic figures associated with the Ranch. We were down by 9:30 p.m. looking forward to getting out of HQ and into the backcountry.

    - 8
    Opening Campfire.

    - 9
    Philmont Compass.

    6/19/12: HQ to Ute Springs camp

    - 10
    Waite Phillip’s favorite view.

    Immediately after breakfast we convened for our crew photograph, with the Tooth of Time as a backdrop. I expected to be plopped on a bus to ‘Cito turnaround that morning, but our sister crew was allotted the first slot, so we got to cool our heels at HQ until 2:00 p.m. We used this time to take a tour of the Villa Philmonte, the summer home built by Waite Phillips in the 1920s. All visitors to the Ranch should find time to tour this historic structure. No uninhabited monument to ego, the Villa is clearly a place that was lived in and loved by its builder. The first time I visited Window rock as a scout in 1972 I assumed that the formation was so named because of the many pockets and cavities eroded into its surface. However, I have since come to understand that it was Phillips’ favorite feature on the Ranch, and that he arranged for a round window to be installed in the villa from which he could admire the whiteness of the stone, albeit at a considerable remove; hence the name, Window Rock. I have even heard it suggested that the window has some magnifying power, but this seems apocryphal and wasn’t apparent in the few moments I had to peer through it, although how would you know without some way to blink between it and an unfiltered view? Perhaps there really is a devilishly figured optic tucked into this window frame. This would not surprise me in view of some of the other custom embellishments lavished upon the Villa by Phillips. Sadly, Waite Phillips’ favorite view is now partially obscured by mature landscaping.

    - 11
    Western scenes in stained glass grace Villa Philmonte.

    We boarded the bus to ‘Cito turnaround at 2 p.m., and endured the good natured hollering of the two rangers on board as they attempted to keep us entertained for the duration of the short trip. At ‘Cito turnaround we dithered for awhile as JS and another ranger gave us the “red roof” i.e. latrine talk, and introduced our scouts to the available seating options; pilot-to-copilot and pilot-to-bombardier (my favorite). Current protocol no longer calls for rattling a stick around the circumference of the latrine hole before assuming the position. This practice was intended to dislodge spiders that might be waiting in the dark for a chance to bite this or that, but also led to piles of sticks growing at the door to latrines. This was thought to be unsightly and create a fire hazard (!), so policy was revised to discourage spiders by sharply slamming the seat lid a few times before sitting down.

    - 12
    Pilot to Co-pilot, at Carson Meadows. Not my favorite potty, but still quite scenic.

    At 3:00 p.m., we were finally ready to depart, and chose to hike to Ute Springs via Hidden Valley, instead of by the most direct route. The trail to Cathedral Rock and Cimarroncito reservoir roiled with fine dust, and it became clear that the adults in our group were more sensitive to this than our scouts. We hiked 75 to 100 feet behind the boys in order to give the dust kicked up by their shuffling feet a chance to settle. On our 2010 trek, we were chastised by staffers at Clear Creek for allowing our crew to become separated while hiking from Crooked Creek camp. (In fact, someone from Crooked Creek radioed ahead to Clear Creek to rat us out.) Talking to JS about appropriate spacing, she felt that as long as we had the boys in sight, we were probably OK. She also recognized that there was great variability in hiking prowess among the boys, and she had no problem with faster scouts trekking ahead “a little bit” so that they could keep their natural rhythm while surmounting a particular obstacle. She made it clear however, that the crew must regroup frequently, and that Philmont would not tolerate a crew strung out over any significant distance. Generally, she advocated assigning one of the slower scouts as pacesetter. In our group, it quickly became clear that MS and RF were our slowest hikers, while KW and SB were among our fastest. From the very outset it was a struggle to keep the crew together and MH eventually put MS in front as pacesetter, though this engendered some grumbling from faster hikers.

    - 13
    Bristlecone pine and a view up Cimarroncito Creek.

    We spent a few moments chatting up the forester at Philmont’s demonstration forest before starting the familiar climb to Hidden Valley. Hidden Valley is a wonderful and unlikely spot, and seems to exude a good vibe, at least for me. Just before we got to Window rock we stopped to admire the view from the rim, capturing good views of Black and Bear Mountains, Cimarroncito creek up which we will hike in a couple of days and lower ‘Cito meadow. TH identified a bristlecone pine growing on the rim’s edge, not to be confused with a limber pine, which has bunches of only four needles.

    - 14
    A bird of prey roosts on Window Rock.

    A few hundred feet further up the trail we came to Window Rock where we enjoyed expansive views of the land to the south, as well as the east side of Tooth ridge, including a good view of Arrowhead rock, which is depicted on the Philmont arrowhead award patch. Shadows were lengthening by this time so we did not linger, and continued north through hidden valley. JS directed our attention to RF’s footwear which she thought inadequate. His shoes, a pair of Keens, though closed at the toe, were vented along the sides with wide openings, which exposed his socks to all the fines kicked up while hiking. They also appeared to be too big for him, and were already causing him to develop hot spots. What to do? JS suggested that we might find a solution at Ute Gulch Commissary tomorrow morning.

    I am writing now from Ute Springs camp where we arrived at approximately 7:20 p.m., most of us out of water and thirsty. A group of scouts and scouters took water containers to the nearby spring while JS gave us directions about the hoisting of bear bags, and so missed important detail about what goes in bear bags and what goes in the “oops” bag. Preparatory to hoisting bear bags she directed us to remove all food from our packs and toss the meals in the fire circle. This caused a flicker of resentment among certain fastidious adults; “Wait a minute, throw our food in the dirt?” Next, although the campsite afforded plenty of space for tents, they would have to be pitched in two groups since neither of the two flat areas would accommodate all tents. This was deemed unacceptable by JS, who directed us to use only one of the flat spots and cram all of the tents within its radius, in fact touching in a couple of instances. This caused more grumbling, although JS’s direction was entirely consistent with Philmont Leave No Trace practices. Philmont requires that camping be concentrated on durable surfaces, and that sprawl be discouraged by making sure tents are pitched as close together as possible. In practice this means that the attractive meadow you would like to camp in must be ignored in favor of the well used dust pit just outside the “Bearmuda triangle”. To her credit, JS pitched her tent on the rockiest part of our little tent platform.

    - 15
    At Window Rock. Tooth Ridge and Arrowhead Rock are in the background.

    By the time the tents were pitched it was dark. This surprised all of us from northern climes, who are used to a lingering twilight during summer months. At Philmont, the sun doesn’t exactly sink like a rock, but full darkness comes sooner than expected. So, we got to cook in the dark while educating Philmont novices about the cooking method we had used successfully in 2010, a process I adopted after reading a BPL article by Al Geist. Compounding these frustrations, mixed signals about bear bag and oops bag preparation led to one of our dinners being misplaced, and we struggled to get the bags properly hoisted in the dark.

    The Evolution of a Winter Stove – Part 1

    Dissatisfied with what was commercially available at the time, the author has been working on the design of a lightweight winter canister stove since 2007.

    This article is broken up into 5 parts

    Introduction

    - 1
    A range of experimental stoves – they all worked.

    Dissatisfied with what was commercially available at the time, the author has been working on the design of a lightweight winter canister stove since 2007. (OK, OK, a bit obsessive, but so what?) Several novel features were required of the design, in the interests of versatility, functionality and safety. These features are explained and the evolution is traced, ending up with the current design.

    - 2
    A range of experimental burner heads.

    Along the way, a lot of research was conducted into just how canister stoves work. Special emphasis was placed on the air flow into the mixing column and the way fuel flows through the burner head. This array is but a fraction of what is in my Reject Bin. Seen in the light of what has been learnt, it is clear many older stoves on the market were designed without enough of this knowledge – and the way they emit carbon monoxide (covered in our lengthy series on Carbon Monoxide Emissions) is good evidence of that.

    Many materials were explored along the way. Brass and steel, the mainstays of the older generation of stoves, have given away to aluminum and titanium. But other materials, such as various plastics, have also been co-opted into the design; often to reduce the weight. Naturally, fuel and heat compatibility have always been considerations. I have had the fun of experiencing a number of ‘interesting’ failures along the way, including some slightly melted plastic in some commercial stoves.

    - 3
    My CNC machine.

    Finally, to get the precision of machining needed for a reliable design, the author ventured into the fascinating world of CNC machining. While that required a steep learning curve in itself, the use of CNC machining means that designs could be refined in a reliable manner over generations and then reproduced at will, at least to a limited extent.

    - 4
    Selected better experimental stoves .

    Space prevents this series from a detailed examination of the virtues and faults of every model designed, made, and tested. This is probably just as well – otherwise it could be too close to the dreaded ordeal of amateur holiday snaps. In case you are wondering, every stove in this photo has significant differences from the rest. Some readers may even recognize the unit at the top right from an article published some time ago: it was an early venture in this direction, and the start of a long road. Evolving the design has been a lot of fun (?). But it may be worth admitting that not everything outlined in this article was understood in total clarity at the start: it has been a long learning exercise! I will add that while I have been learning, it is clear that one or two other designers at one or two Asian factories have been very active in Stove Development. With regret I have to say I have not seen this degree of learning from the traditional Western companies: they are falling badly behind.

    In this first part we will explore what I wanted to achieve, the major components of the stove-to-be, and a couple of significant technical decisions. In the subsequent parts we will go into technical details for all the bits and pieces and see what I ended up with.

    Required Features

    The starting point for the saga is what I wanted in my stove: the ‘required features’.

    Liquid Feed

    The use of a liquid feed out of an inverted canister means the remaining fuel in the canister does not plummet in temperature due to evaporation as fuel is used. This is reasonably well-known to most experienced users of canister stoves and is well documented in our article on The Effect of Cold on Canisters, and is the main rational for the remote-canister liquid-feed winter stove.

    - 5
    A flare-up due to un-vaporized liquid fuel coming out the jet of the Brunton Stove Stand.

    However, the fuel must be vaporized before it reaches the jet, for several reasons. The most obvious one is that spitting liquid fuel out of the jet produces flare-ups, fireballs, and threatens to burn the place down. A less-obvious reason is that liquid fuel itself does not burn. Liquid fuel must turn into a vapor first, so it can combine, molecule by molecule (and atom by atom), with the oxygen atoms in the air. The process of turning the liquid fuel into a vapor is however quite simple in principle: just add some heat.

    Gas Valving

    Along with the need to vaporize the fuel is the need to throttle the flow. Without a throttle it is impossible, for example, to simmer gently food or melt snow. In the past, almost every liquid fuel stove made has done this by throttling the flow of the liquid fuel itself, but this presents problems. Since liquid fuels such as butane and white gas expand by a factor of about 250x when they turn into a gas, it is obvious that the amount of liquid fuel going through the control valve has to be very small. That restriction means that the cross-section through the valve has to be very tiny. This poses a problem because it is easy for dirt to block the flow which makes it hard to get any fine control over the flow. A couple of people have commented that simmering is not something the MSR Simmerlite stove can do very easily. The greater viscosity of liquids over gases does mitigate this relation a bit.

    - 6
    The basic idea for smooth control: valve the gas flow after the vaporization.

    The solution is obvious when you think about it: valve the gas flow instead of the liquid flow. That is, put the control valve after the part of the fuel system where the liquid turns into gas. In the very stylized and rough sketch here, the inverted canister sits on top of the Canister Connector (CC) and feeds liquid fuel through the Hose to the ‘pre-heat loop’, where the heat coming in turns it into a gas. Yes, that is a very rough drawing of a preheat loop, but it will suffice. Then the gas goes through the valve to the jet. Like this you get nice smooth flame control. But almost every commercial remote canister stove puts the control valve back at the canister, the easy, obvious and cheap place to put it. It’s just not the right place. Clearly, some departure from conventional thinking is required here to get what I wanted.

    Safety

    No one wants a fireball when they are cooking. I exempt users of the MSR XGK stove: the instructions do actually state that ‘a brief soccer ball size flame is normal’. I have seen the scars on benches in various huts and on picnic tables from those stoves, although some of those may be from alcohol stoves – maybe. But there is a problem here in the fine details. If the control valve is at the stove end of the hose, then there will be liquid fuel in the hose when the valve at the stove is shut off. When the hose is disconnected from the canister the liquid fuel can spray out backwards into the air. If there is another stove nearby when this happens, or any flame at all – kaboom. Because of the ‘reservoir’ of fuel in the hose, under normal circumstances there is a long delay between turning the valve off and the flame going out, which can also present problems.

    - 7
    Basic Lindal connector (un-crimped samples from factory).

    A Safety problem exists even with upright canister stoves equipped with the Lindal valve. Many users will have experienced that slight hiss you can get when attaching and detaching an upright stove from a canister. That hiss means that the pin (solid blue line, right-hand diagram) which depresses the Lindal valve plug (shaded red, a bit under the blue pin) is opening the valve a shade before the big O-ring (brown circles outside the valve spigot) seals the connection. The standard solution here is to do the attaching and detaching fast, so that very little gas escapes. At least what you get out is normally a gas, not a liquid, provided you hold the canister upright.

    Why does this happen? There are two reasons. The first is that there is no real ‘standard’ for the design and length of the actuating pin, so everyone does it slightly differently. This means that a “brand X” stove may mesh cleanly (without hiss) with a “brand X” canister, but that does not mean a “brand Y” canister will work. The second is more complex. The Lindal valve screw-thread insert for all canisters (with the possible exception of some Chinese brands) comes from the Lindal factory. They should all be the same out of the factory (and probably are), but they aren’t the same when they get to you. The company which assembles (and fills) the canister uses its own crimping machine, and each machine does the crimp slightly differently. A change in crimping means that, as an example, the Coleman Powermax canister changed the shape of the central nipple by a whole millimeter.

    - 8
    The (blue) valve actuation pin pushing on the (red) Lindal valve.

    A solution to this problem of leakage is to make the valve at the canister into a simple safety on/off valve, not the main control valve. Ideally, this safety valve would never be actuated until the O-ring seal (brown circles) has closed and gas cannot leak out. Then (and only then) the blue push rod is pushed downwards to open the actual (red) valve plug. Only then can the fuel escape from the canister and flow out via the outlet pipe (light blue). The difference between this and a typical stove is that here the blue pin is not fixed in position: it can move up and down. Opening the Lindal valve is now quite separate from sealing the connector to the canister.

    When disconnecting the stove from the canister you first turn off the safety valve, or raise the blue pin so it no longer depresses the red valve, then you let all the remaining fuel in the hose get used up (burnt) at the stove, and only then do you disconnect the stove from the canister. This way there are no gas leaks at all, a fundamental safety requirement.

    Stability

    - 9
    Hoses: stiff, stiff, and flexible.

    A secondary safety consideration is the hose itself. With some older stoves you could use the hose as the handle of a battle-axe; it’s that thick and stiff and clumsy. (Allegations that the XGK can be used to pound in tent stakes are unverified.) If the stove weighs a ton that may not matter, but with a very light stove you could find the stove held up in the air by such a hose. You need a much lighter hose for a light weight stove. I believe the reason why the hoses are so heavy is the designer (or the factory) just used stock ° in reinforced fuel line designed for racing cars. This size of fuel line is compatible with most fuels, robust, cheap and not inclined to flap around at 200 mph; just not really suitable for a light-weight stove though. Thinner, lighter and more flexible is possible; as is shown at the right.

    Sometimes you find that the hose has a bit of a curve in it. This could be the result of storage in the factory, or how the stove was packed away in your pot for months on end. Anyhow, in keeping with the prior comments, the hose needs to be able to rotate with respect to both the stove and the canister to get the curve lined up in a convenient direction. Most older-model stoves did not do this (to the user’s frustration), although the latest generation do have rotating couplings at one or both ends. The rotation may be a little tight, but it’s quite adequate. Such a rotation at both ends is a requirement, even with the lighter tubing.

    - 10
    Pot supports: long and flimsy vs short and solid.

    Criticism has been made of the pot supports on some stoves. In some cases the pot support is just too flimsy for safety: both the MSR Pocket Rocket and the Primus Micron Ti come to mind. Those two are shown at the left, along with some recent Asian stoves with far more robust pot supports at the right. But this detail has two parts to it. The first part is the long length of those thin arms which support the pot: you don’t want them that long. The supports on the Pocket Rocket are notorious for bending, and it is easy to see why. With the current generation of smaller titanium stoves (eg the two at the right), the pot supports come from the burner head and are therefore much shorter. I might add that since there is much less area of metal to worry about in those short pot supports, the designers have been able to make them a bit thicker, and as a result they are even stronger. So the worry about collapsing pot supports has subsided.

    - 11
    The weight of a large pot of dinner.

    There is also the question of the stability of the whole stove: can it collapse sideways under a load? What happens when you are cooking with a large pot on the stove, full of stew, being stirred? (Hey, we get hungry sometimes!) Both the stove legs and the pot supports must be able to take a bit of a load, and this issue has some sneaky aspects we will return to later. Upright stoves avoid the stove legs problem of course by using the canister as a base, but the pot supports remain an issue. Winter stoves however must also have good legs to hold the stove up.

    Versatility

    - 12
    Lindal connectors, with screw-thread, Campingaz and Powermax

    The most common fuel container in America is the screw-thread canister (invented by Epigas, shown on the left). When I started designing in 2007 the Coleman Powermax canister (shown on the right) was still readily available and is very nicely designed for a liquid feed (with an internal dip-tube). However, when one goes to Europe it very often happens that the only re-sealable Lindal-valve canister available is a French Campingaz one (shown in the middle), with the French Easy-Clic connection. This is not the same as the screw-thread connection normally seen in America. As an aside: Coleman makes a screw-thread canisters of course, but they also made the Powermax ones and now own the Campingaz brand as well.

    The Powermax connector at the right has a sort of hexagonal shape near the base, and this hex shape keys into the Powermax connector. It’s a rather complex arrangement, and making a custom connector for it requires that you make a hexagonal broaching tool of the right size, and have a press to drive the broach through the material. It’s possible, but slow unless you do it by molding. I made a suitable hex broach which worked fine, but it was hard work with a press.

    The common screw-thread connection uses the central spigot as a ‘screw’, but the thread is atrocious, being barely half there. It tends to rip the thread out of the stove over time, so the stove can no longer connect. That has happened to me in the middle of a long trip, and I had to buy another stove very quickly. It may be cheap and popular, but it is bad engineering. I wanted to avoid the thread.

    The Campingaz design does not use the spigot in the middle except as a housing for the valve and as something for the O-ring to seal against. Even then, the design has a secondary seal in it: the red bit shown in the photo under ‘Safety’. You can’t see it in this photo: it is black neoprene. This rim of neoprene seals against the sides of the valve actuating pin; the gas goes up a hole through the middle of the pin. The stove is clamped to the canister by means of lugs which catch in a groove under and inside the rim of the Lindal valve. This groove is not shown in the (Lindal-supplied) diagram of the Lindal valve in the photo under ‘Safety’, but is shown below in the section ‘Canister Connector’. It is a very reliable and effective means of anchoring the stove to the canister. This means that if Campingaz is all you can find in a shop when you need to resupply in some little town in the middle of Europe, you have to suddenly buy a new Campingaz stove as well. They are not expensive, but they are rather heavy and primitive things in comparison. Anyhow, there are no Campingaz winter stoves available: they are all solely for upright summer use (which is a bit wierd).

    Some people still have a large supply of the very fine Coleman PowerMax canisters. While we would never recommend you do it, I understand some people even go so far as to refill the empties, just for winter use, because they are really functional. Compatibility with all three styles of connector became a requirement of my stove.

    Manufacturability

    While it is great fun making one or two stoves for personal use, a goal was to be able to make a number of these stoves, all quite identical, so they could perhaps be sold. Hey, everyone needs a cool new stove, right?

    - 13
    Manual lathe and manual mill

    I did some early manufacturing with a manual mill and a manual lathe, but it proved too easy to make every unit unique: just slightly different in some dimensions. Making parts by hand to reasonable tolerances turned out to be very slow, even after the first couple of dozen models were made and abandoned. Granted, I don’t have a lifetime’s experience as a toolmaker. (I just learnt from two very good ones.) I needed to change how it was done – which is in fact the history of production engineering.

    I looked at getting parts injection molded, but there are two problems there. The first is the cost of the molds. I refused to use a soft low-temperature plastic such as polyethylene here: many parts have to be either a hard plastic such as Acetal or aluminum. Additionally, 1 mm (0.04 in) accuracy such as you might get from a MakerBot is simply not good enough. Some parts had to be made to better than 0.05 mm (0.02 in) accuracy to be reliable – especially for O-ring seals. After some research I found that each mould would cost between $2,000 and $5,000 to be made for me on a CNC machine. Molded parts (made in China) would then be quite cheap of course. This might be acceptable if I had an absolutely final and perfect design, but I didn’t; I was still in the development phase. So any change would need a different set of molds, made on a CNC machine. You can imagine how the cost goes up.

    An added complication is ensuring that the Chinese molding factory did not promptly go into pirate production for its own benefit, but the advice there was to use several factories and do the final assembly myself. I discussed making the molds myself with a CNC machine, but a friend (who knew more about CNC machining than me and actually had his own CNC machine) suggested I make the first ‘few’ stoves with the CNC machine instead, and get the design right. This was obviously the right way to go.

    - 14
    Adept CNC machine: combined mill and lathe

    So I bought a small CNC machining center. It has a full 3-axis CNC mill with an option for a 4th axis (a rotating bed), and it also has a CNC lathe which I have fitted up as a partial Swiss design. I also spent some time getting it going and learning how to program it, but that’s a different (and rather long) story. I will simply say that has been lots of fun, with a few anguished moments along the way. Broken milling cutters are not unknown in the trade, and they cost money. A common saying among CNC users is that a CNC machine allows you to make many identical, very accurate parts at high speed, but all equally wrong. This is true. But what did come out of the CNC experience was a slight change in design thinking, so that as much of the stove as possible could be made in multiple units in parallel on the CNC. Once you get into making ten at a time, things really start humming. Injection moldings can come later. Hopefully, the design will be final by that stage.

    In Part 2 we will get down to some hard details; in Part 3 we will look at the final result.

    Global Test Conclusion: Honeymooning in the Backcountry

    Danny and Kristin wrap up their 2-year Honeymoon with Backcountry skiing in Europe and discover their home.

    Do you remember where you last left us? After 10 months in Latin America, and 3 months in Russia, we were burnt out from traveling and needed badly to regroup.

    Where does a couple find respite when they are homeless and separated from their family by an ocean? Danny and I chose an off-season (empty) Black Sea resort in Kosharitsa, Bulgaria. Mainly, because we had a free place to stay for up to 90 days, after which our Bulgarian visa would expire.

    - 1
    The nearby Black Sea village of Nessebar, Bulgaria, a UNESCO Heritage Site.

    We spent exactly 90 days in Bulgaria, sleeping in the same pull-out sofa bed every night. We relaxed. We ran, cooked, and ate well. We video-Skyped with our family. We caught up on American news and television. Mostly, we planned. First we decided that we wanted to ski. Then we arranged for our ski gear to be delivered to Europe. Finally, we mapped our route.

    - 2
    Danny returned “home” from a food shopping spree, balancing his heavy load with two boxes of wine, and using a squash as a neck pillow (left). I reached the top of a hill during one of our hard runs (right). The word is ‘finish’ in Bulgarian.

    Before our visa expired, we traveled around Bulgaria and Romania for a few weeks over the Christmas holiday, staying in mountain huts. Danny experienced his coldest temperature ever: -19° C (-2.2 F). Then we flew to Frankfurt, Germany to visit friends and pick up our skis.

    - 3
    Our hut in the Carpathian Mountains, Romania.

    - 4
    An old wooden village in the heart of Bucharest, Romania.

    - 5
    Our ski pack contained two sets of: skis, poles, boots, helmets, skins, shovels, probes, beacons, ski clothes, and also winter camping gear. Instantly, we became the tourists with the most luggage. Previously, we stood out because of our tiny packs. To say we had an identity crisis, and sore arms, is an understatement.

    Even though it was January, we did a backpacking trip on the Rheinsteig in Germany. The days were cold, crisp and beautiful, and the nights chilly. We may or may not have stealth camped every night, and we may or may not have camped along the nocturnal route of a group of wild boar.

    - 6
    Notice my trademark blue Jam as I pass a trail blaze on the Rheinsteig (left). The trail connects villages and vineyards along the Rhein River (right).

    We timed our meander through Germany so that we could report to you live from ISPO. I thought it was exhausting, but Danny found it exhilarating. (See reports from Day 1, 2, 3 and 4)

    With some updated gear, we settled down in a small village named Agordo in the Dolomites of Italy. Through family friends, we met a fellow AT skier, Bepi, and bonded with him immediately even though we could not communicate with language; he spoke no English, and we spoke no Italian or their local dialect.

    For 5 weeks we ate chocolate croissants for breakfast, were picked up by Bepi in his Alpha-Romeo, skied the best snow Bepi could using his 50+ years of local knowledge, then drank wine and ate pasta for the rest of the day. Needless to say, it was our favorite portion of our 2-year honeymoon.

    - 7
    The reward at the end of our ski day – this sunset view over Passo Giau, Italy.

    - 8
    Our Italian friends took us on amazing ski tours, such as the Rosetta Altoplano pictured above.

    Sadly, we left Agordo the day after a snow storm. There were tears.

    After Italy, snow was hard to find in Europe that winter. We saw friends in France and Switzerland, met up with visiting family, and carried our skis on trains and down sidewalks for one month. Even though we weren’t skiing, we were able to enjoy the lovely spring weather.

    During that whole time, we skied one day in Chamonix, which was experiencing July conditions in April.

    - 9
    We brought our skis to Mont-Dore, France, but obviously the conditions were better for hiking (left). Our stay with friends (and professional tour guides) in Saint-Laurent-la-Vallée, France, allowed us to experience chateau du jour (right).

    - 10
    Our one day of skiing involved an early morning walk through Chamonix (left) to ride the Aguille du Midi gondola up Mont Blanc, so we could ski down the Vallee Blanche glacier. Notice how easily the GoLite Jam converts to a ski pack. To relax after such an intense day, we did our annual “undie run” at a nearby ski resort (right).

    - 11
    In Switzerland, we enjoyed the mountain hikes and urban views, such as the bridges and waterways of Interlaken (left). For all the BPL gear geeks, we stopped by the Mont-Bell store in Grindelwald, which is one of only two such stores outside of Japan (right).

    - 12
    We spent our last week in Switzerland biking around the countryside, enjoying the freedom of two wheels to take us through apple orchards, explore small villages, and access mountain hikes. (Gottfried, me, Brigitte)

    Luckily for our snow-obsession, we had Norway lined up next. After spending a few days in Oslo and Ås, we started on a ski roadtrip with our friend Eirik. He was excited about trying out the carbon/wood skis he had just finished making in his university’s machine shop. We found great snow every day and camped at roads end, just below the snow level.

    - 13
    Skiing on the west coast invariably gave us views of gleaming blue fjords and vibrant green valleys while enjoying endless ski terrain. (Eirik and me.)

    - 14
    We rented a cabin one night, out of 16 days of camping, so we could wash clothes in the sink, prepare food in a proper kitchen, sleep on a real bed, and recharge our batteries (literally). It was the cabin’s location, at the edge of a fjord and next to this small lighthouse that really made the night special.

    Sadly, Eirirk had to go back to class, so we flew 1700km north to Tromsø. Since it was towards the end of our trip, we decided to splurge on a rent-a-wreck and drove around the fjords for a few weeks while skiing every peak that looked interesting and camping off the main roads.

    - 15
    Our mobile-home got great gas mileage and had spectacular views (left). Without a map or guide or any information really, exploring the backcountry on skis gave us a few surprises (right).

    - 16
    Skiing in June with 24 hours of daylight.

    We packed away our skis for the season and flew to Dublin to meet our parents. We toured with them for several weeks through Ireland and Scotland. There was a noticeable lack of skiing, backpacking, and titanium utensils.

    - 17
    Travel win: fresh, live crab from the Marin’s Head Fishermans Coop, for 3€/kg ($4.70/lb). However, one of the crabs had a drinking problem (left). Classic Irish views (right).

    The next few months we spent touring the US and Canada. We traveled from Chicago to Bozeman (and met Addie!), Glacier National Park, Banff National Park, Boulder, Salt Lake City, and Northern California.

    - 18
    Peyto Lake, along the Icefields Parkway in the Canadian Rockies.

    For two years we had been thinking about where to permanently move once we finished our honeymoon. After reading this BPL article, we decided to move right back to where we started from: Northern California.

    - 19
    We returned home just in time to celebrate our 2-year wedding anniversary with our niece in California, with the same chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cake that we loved the first time around.

    Kristin is working her dream job as a bioinformatician. We have easy access to the metro, trail running, locally-grown food, and cycling trails. We are very happy.

    But there is this thought in the back of our mind. Three years? Five years? How long until we can pick up and travel again? There is so much of the world to see, and so many friends and BPLers we want to (re)visit and learn from. When and where shall we go next?

    - 20
    Between job interviews, we took some small adventures, like hiking up Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. You can barely see the cable-lined trail going (what appears to be, and actually is) straight up the rock.

    For now, we host family, friends, and couchsurfers who want to experience the low-stress and beautiful life we are living in Northern California. We have a spare bedroom . . .