Articles (2020)

Introduction

CAMP is known for making some very lightweight ski mountaineering and climbing gear. In fact, a number of their competitive ski mountaineering equipment is some of the lightest on the market, like a 195-gram harness (6.9-oz), 290-gram (10.2-oz) pair of crampons, and 260-gram (9.2-oz) Rapid ski pack.

The X3 600 does not fall into that category of super specialised ultralight equipment. Rather, this pack is a fairly simple, stripped-down ski touring pack. It is the lightest of the X3 line, which includes the X3 Light ($170, 17.3 oz/790 g) and X3 ($160, 35 oz/990 g). These other two packs have tougher fabric, more padding, an aluminum frame, and back-panel access. In an effort to go lighter, has CAMP found a good mix of weight and durability with the X3 600? Or, have they gone too far and made a pack that just doesn’t hold up to the inherent abuse of ski touring?

Specifications

Description

The X3 600 is a fairly straightforward pack with a few minor twists. The pack is made of HyperGrid SN44 fabric and has a tall mesh pocket on each side. There is a single straight fiberglass stay that is removable. The back panel, hipbelt, and shoulder straps are all well padded. The attached lid has one zippered pocket. There is also a hipbelt pocket and chest pocket, both on the right side. Finally, there is a quick attachment system for skis, with a nylon loop on the left hip and a nylon leash on the right side.

Performance

Kristin and I tested this pack over four months of backcountry skiing and day hikes in Europe, during the winter and spring of 2011.

The fabric, HyperGrid SN44, is CAMP’s name for a lightweight gridstop nylon. It is not as tough as Dyneema or other similar fabrics in the 200 denier range. After three months of use, the front face of the fabric was showing areas of abrasion with a few pin holes. The pack saw a lot of snow use, but no abuse: I never sat on it or glissaded with it, nor did I take any significant falls on hard snow pack. The visible signs of wear and tear are disconcerting considering the duration and type of use.

A 30-liter capacity is generally a good size for a ski day pack. I can fit a lot of gear in there – a down jacket, extra layers, food, water, shovel, probe, and so on. However, the X3 600 lacks sufficient compression capability to reduce volume. The single compression strap, from the lid to the bottom of the pack, does not compress enough, which equates to a less comfortable fit and more space for items to shift around internally. Additionally, the items tended to “sink” to the bottom of the pack as they are not really secured in place. Sometimes this could be avoided by repacking, but not always. It was very uncomfortable as hard items rubbed against my backside with each stride. The torso size is a bit too small for my 6′ (183 cm) frame, but good for Kristin (5’7”/173 cm) and there are no torso adjustments.

The frame is not meant to increase carrying weight so much as to keep the pack from collapsing under the weight of gear, especially skis. However, the fiberglass stay goes straight along the spine (no ergonomic curvature) and ends on the tail bone (no padding). Unsurprisingly, the bottom of the frame rubbed against my tailbone when I carried more than 15 pounds (6.8 kg). This tended to be most noticeable when skinning uphill, as I was wearing less clothing (padding) and carrying a heavier load, with lots of clothing and food. Where the fiberglass strut ends at the bottom of the pack is a focal point of pressure and sees a lot of wear, but this area is not reinforced. Naturally, the fabric wore out and the pole poked through. The pack continued to function fairly well despite this, because it was designed to add back panel stiffness and continued to do so. Besides the frame issue, this pack was comfortable to wear while skiing and hiking. The hipbelt, back, and shoulder strap padding was very good. In this regard, everything functioned as it should have.

The Xpress Evo Carrying System worked well, but is not without faults. There are two general ski carrying set-ups: the A-frame, whereby a ski is held by straps on each side of the pack and then are strapped together at the top to form an A; and the diagonal strap, where the skis are held diagonally across the front of the pack, with a loop on the bottom left corner, to catch on the bindings, and a buckled strap on the top right, to hold the skis vertically. CAMP’s system is similar to the latter. The difference is that CAMP’s pack allows the skis to be strapped in and out without having to take off the pack. The skis are slotted into the loop on the left hip. Holding the skis vertically with my left hand, my right hand passed the strap around the skis and hooked it into the plastic loop on my right shoulder. The skis can be attached in a matter of seconds. As an added bonus, the weight of the skis is kept close to my back, helping with my center of gravity, and does not crush the contents of the pack.

There are two times when this set-up is really handy. The first is obvious – approaches where I needed to hike to find snow. I was always the fastest to put my skis on my pack because of this. The second instance where the system is worth its weight in gold (well, maybe not with today’s gold prices): when a slope becomes too steep to continue skinning up, then the only way to continue upward is by carrying the skis and walking. If the slope is that steep, then there is also a decent chance of a bad fall or dropping a piece of gear. CAMP’s system allowed me to put my skis on my pack without having to take off my pack. With either of the other two systems, I would have to take my pack off and put it on the snow to attach my skis, and then hoist the combo onto my back. CAMP’s set-up is faster, which reduced my time exposed to any risk, and much safer, as my pack couldn’t possibly slide down the mountain. I also felt it was easier to keep my balance, as I wasn’t trying to maneuver the pack and skis from the ground to my back. Note while CAMP calls this the Xpress Evo Carrying System, other manufacturers, like Dynafit, also have similar set-ups.

Because of the small pack size and small frame, the added weight of carrying skis was noticeable but bearable. I think it carries better on a person with a smaller torso, like Kristin. I carried the skis for up to an hour at a time during long approaches in late spring conditions and was comfortable. Every once in a while I banged my elbow against my Black Diamond Fritschi bindings. This would not be an issue if I had smaller, lighter tech-fit bindings (which nearly everyone in Italy does).

The side mesh pockets are good sized and can accommodate climbing skins, jacket, or 2-liter water bottle. It is nice to stash wet skins on the outside of the pack to dry out, or conversely, to keep things on the inside from getting wet. The pockets are not designed to be for on-ski convenience, as the tall mesh makes the pockets inaccessible while the pack is being worn. The pockets are tall enough so that things didn’t fall out if I took a tumble. However, it is still possible to lose items from an open pocket, which is why most ski packs have zippered pockets. Plus, mesh pockets tend to collect snow and are generally weaker than fabric.

The hipbelt pocket is large but not unwieldy. I kept my camera in there, plus a snack or pair of liner gloves. The pocket is removable, but I would not remove it as I prefer the convenience over the 0.8-ounce (24-gram) weight saving. Being removable, however, meant that the pocket jostled around a lot and could bang into my hip given the right (or wrong?) conditions. This wasn’t noticeable when I was skiing, nor when the pocket was filled with soft items. However, it was painful when I had my camera in there on a day hike and ran downhill. The pocket also banged around when carrying my skis and hiking downhill.

The gear loops are simple, light and removable. They are easy to use and can be tightened sufficiently to secure gear like trekking poles, helmet (via the helmet straps), and supposedly, ice axes. I was a little leery of carrying an ice axe on it. Most packs use a stronger gear loop for the bottom, which is where the axe’s head would be secured. The CAMP pack’s loops are stretchy here, which means the pick and adze could move around too much. While this probably wouldn’t be an issue for a small axe or mellow tour, it is not a risk I would want to take. There is no place to attach crampons, but perhaps something could be rigged up with the gear loops. Compact crampons, like CAMP’s Race 290, could fit in the side mesh pockets.

Assessment

The CAMP X3 600 has a few design flaws that make it unsuitable for light ski mountaineering, yet the pack is not light enough for competitive racing, nor is it access-friendly enough for general winter use like snowshoeing. The fabric started to wear through in one season. The frame broke, in the sense that the fiberglass stay poked through the bottom fabric. On BPL scales, the pack weighed 10% more than the manufacturer’s specs. The availability of one pack size and with no torso adjustment limits the fit range for consumers.

However, the pack wasn’t all bad. I really liked the Xpress Evo Carrying System. It was simple, lightweight, efficient, and safe. The big pockets were a blessing on spring days when I could dry out my skins. The MSRP of $100 is fairly low for a ski pack. CAMP could easily alter the frame design, which would be a big improvement. The hipbelt pocket should just be permanently attached, which would save weight while improving performance. More robust ice axe loops would only add a few grams. These few changes would definitely make the pack more attractive to a wider audience.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Exped Aries Mesh tent. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Exped Aries Mesh is a straight two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel. First, the specifications.

It would seem that the listed weight is rather less than the measured weight. It is not clear what the listed weight was meant to include.

Details

This is a fairly ‘stock standard’ two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel tent, but built with Swiss attention to detail. For instance, the pole feet go into webbing pockets lined with spare repair sleeves rather than simple eyelets. It is not all that lightweight, but it is quite rugged. That includes the mesh inner tent – the mesh is also quite rugged. However, the mesh will not stop a breeze, which is why this tent is listed as a single-skin tent.

The fly fabric is listed as ‘flame retardant.’ This is to comply with laws in some states. It’s an extremely stupid idea as the flame retardant won’t prevent a melt-down but is reported to reduce the fabric strength quite severely. Too much political correctness. The groundsheet is listed as being waterproof to 5 m water head (which is good).

The interior of the tent has reasonable floor space for two, and very reasonable headroom. The rear end of the tent does slope down, making the very rear less useful for sitting, but there seems to be a fair bit of floor space in the middle with high headroom. The sides go straight up and the middle is wider than most, so the middle region is quite usable. You would certainly be able to pack a lot of gear down the sides of your mats.

The tent pole stuff sack is a work of art, with separate pockets for the poles, the stakes, and the spares. The ‘spares’ include a repair sleeve, a slider for the zips, self-adhesive repair fabric for the fly and the groundsheet, and some spare mesh for the inner tent. The stakes are fairly wide-angle with folded-over ends which are comfortable to the hand. The aluminium is a bit soft, making it a bit difficult to hammer them in. The literature says 16 stakes; I am fairly sure I found 13.

The guy ropes are about 2.5 mm diameter, with sparkles for visibility at night. They have toggles as shown here. You need to slacken the tension off the guy with one hand to slide the toggle along the string, but that is easy to do. You can see the toggle here and in the photos below. You can also see in the photos below a yellow ‘flag’ on each guy rope. Actually, the ‘flag’ is a little nylon pocket into which you can stuff the coiled-up guy line. Very tidy people, the Swiss. Also, I am sure the flag may help prevent others from falling over the guy!

Summary

Ideally, I would have liked to review the Sirius II instead of the Aries mesh, as the Sirius is a genuine four-season double-skin tent. However, it is not marketed in the USA. So we have the Aries Mesh: a three-season tent. As you might expect from a Swiss company, it is well made and rugged, although you do pay for the strength with the weight. Could you use this tent in the snow? Yes, keeping in mind that you may need to block spindrift from entering.

Disclaimer: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the MSR Dragontail. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The MSR Dragontail is one of two tunnels we know of that are made in America. First, the specifications.

Extras include guy ropes, a spare guy rope toggle, and a pole repair sleeve. It should be noted that MSR has not been able to resist the massive overkill syndrome on the stuff sacks, especially on the tent bag. This can be pruned down of course.

Details

This is a single-skin tunnel designed for winter use. There is an inherent contradiction in this claim of course, and users have reported that the inside surface does get a lot of frozen condensation on it which can be brushed off onto the occupants. The tent is well made, but is not without some deficiencies.

If you have both ends open, there is a mesh floor to the tunnel that prevents insects from getting in. There are zips in both ends of the mesh tunnel floor to allow you to access the zippered exterior flap – in case the weather changes. There are also mesh doors inside the tent to keep out insects. However, the zip on the mesh front door goes down one side and then turns a sharp corner at the bottom before running across at floor level. In sub-zero conditions, that tight corner in the zipper may present real problems if the zip gets wet, then freezes.

The way the rear end can be closed up does present one unexpected problem. If you follow my recommendation to roll the tent up from the entry end to the rear end, there can be a bit of an issue with getting the air out of the rear end of the tent at the end of the rolling. You need to make sure there is not much air left in the tent before you start rolling. However, the stuff sack they supply is huge, far bigger than needed, so I guess you could pack the air away too. Or make a smaller stuff sack for field use.

Somewhere along the line, MSR changed the design of the Dragontail and how the poles are fitted. The early versions (see below) had the poles threaded into sleeves, making the tent fairly robust and making the fabric quite smooth when the tent is properly pitched. But, on later versions, (see above) the poles are not threaded into the fly; rather they are connected to the fly with a small number of clips. Was this change to make it easier to pitch the tent, or to reduce the cost of manufacture? I fear the latter, as the effect of the clips is to make the fabric surface look quite crinkled, as shown above. I could not get rid of this crinkling. I think someone at MSR lost sight of what a tunnel tent is meant for. I far prefer the threaded pole version, but you can no longer buy it.

On both versions, (old and new) there are a couple of fabric loops at mid-height and the top of each seam. These loops are of a length that could take the poles. When I first erected the clip version of the tent I automatically threaded the poles through these loops, but the official MSR photos show them lying unused. I think I misunderstood these loops, and that they are really meant to be guy rope attachment points. In the photo above you can see that Ray put a guy rope onto one of these loops on the far side of the tent, because of the wind direction.

However, all the official MSR photos show the tent without any guy ropes attached. I find this amazing. Does it mean that MSR does not expect the tent to be used under high wind conditions? Or was there a disconnect between the designers and the marketing team? I did find that the tent sways sideways quite a bit in a light side-on wind when there are no guy ropes. I also noted that the fabric does belly a bit in a side wind. I am quite sure the tent will need guy ropes in bad weather. Anyhow, the tent I received had four 3 mm guy ropes with plastic Nite Ize Figure 9 toggles – all with MSR logos as well. Since I can see not four but eight guy line attachment points, I was a bit disappointed by this shortfall. I would add that 3 mm cord is awfully heavy for guy lines (gross overkill actually), and that you don’t need any toggles on string this thick, just use a taut line hitch.

The tent comes with a handful of ‘groundhog’ stakes. These are the common Y-stake, but they have nicely rounded corners. I find these Y-stakes rather hard to insert compared to a tubular stake, and much harder than a Ti wire, but at least they didn’t hurt my hand. Each stake has a loop of the 3 mm guy rope cord to help you extract it. A lighter cord would have been adequate.

I had better add here that the tent supplied came with no guy ropes at all, which seemed strange. I inquired about this and was told that the designer had played with it, and he had forgotten to replace the guy ropes in the bag! Also I received only 11 stakes, although the specs say 12. They did send some guy ropes later, but I don’t know whether they sent the full compliment. These things happen.

The ‘vestibule’ space at the rear of the tent forms part of the groundsheet space. The front vestibule is not large, but it is adequate for gear and cooking with a little squeeze. It has only one access zip however: you need to make sure you’re not facing the wind on that side of the tent. Curiously, the zipper has two sliders. Exactly what one uses the top slider for is not clear to me. (I suspect a manufacturing mistake myself.) Once the door has been opened (unzipped) it can be held out of the way with a toggle at the pole seam. This is good. There is a matching toggle at the other side of the tent, and it seems to be totally useless to me (there is no zipper there).

The fittings at ends of the poles are called ‘feet.’ On most tents, the feet are designed to slip into a grommet or something similar. That applies here too, but (like some other companies) MSR has done something silly with the feet: they have knobs on the end. The usual explanation is that the knob helps keep the foot in the grommet, but that is not a sensible explanation. The pole foot is going to stay in the grommet regardless of any knob. What the knob usually does is to jam the pole foot in the grommet if there is any mud and grit around, and that did happen here. I had trouble getting the pole foot out during testing. I normally slim all the knobs down on a lathe before taking such a tent out. It makes life so much easier.

The poles fold up into a tidy bundle provided you get the bend at the top right. I am not going to explain how to do this: you need to have the poles in your hand. Anyhow, some neat design work here.

Summary

Despite the deficiencies listed, this remains a well-made tent that will serve nicely in the snow when not subject to extreme conditions (like really bad weather above the tree line). Add some permanent guy ropes to it for sure. Do up the windward ventilation window and it should take a fair bit of wind, although, being a single-skin, condensation (water or frost) then becomes a bigger problem than normal. The vestibule is not large, but one can cook in there.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Wilderness Equipment First Arrow. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Wilderness Equipment First Arrow is a tapered three-pole two-man double-skin tunnel. It is described on the company web site as a ‘5-season 2/3-person tent,’ but this is marketing spin. First, the specifications.

Spare parts include two pole repair sleeves and two spare zipper sliders. The 150 mm long stakes have an X crosssection and loops of 2.5 mm guy rope cord.

Details

This is a three-pole two-man double-skin tunnel tent. Despite having a modern silicone/PU polyester fly, it is rather heavy, which reflects two things. The first is that the basic design is now almost 30 years old. Nothing the matter there, but it brings a bit of heritage. The second – the heritage bit, is that it was, and still is, designed to be used by novices. That means that some components are designed to be misused, mishandled, and generally beaten up by novices. In fact, there is a heavier version available, with a 75 denier PU-coated polyester fly. That adds about 150 g (5.3 oz) to the tent weight – which tells you that the rest of this tent is made from even heavier fabrics. I should add here that I know the owner of the company and have argued this issue of fabrics with him. I understand the constraints of his market and of his retailers.

Entry is from either side, but not from the end. In the photo here it looks as though the string from the end-bell corner goes to the corner of the bathtub groundsheet but that is not so: it goes to the foot of the pole. The groundsheet is clipped to that string via bungee cord and a hook. If it is pouring rain when you set this tent up, you will have to unclip the corner of the groundsheet before opening the door, or you will fill the groundsheet with rain. This approach makes the overall length of the tent shorter, but it imposes some inconveniences.

Looking at the tent from the rear shows how much of a taper there is in both height and width. There is enough floor space for two air mats and some gear when two people are sleeping in this tent, but there is a bit of a problem during meals in bad weather. If one person is cooking up front, where does the second person sit? The answer is that the second person has to be lying down on one side, or seriously scrunched up. This is reflected in the much-reduced ‘Sitting Space’ listed in Part 2 of this series.

The company web site lists this tent as a ‘5-season, 2/3-Person tent’. I will stick my neck out and call this marketing spin. I have never seen the fifth season – what is that? And while you could get three people into this tent, I don’t want to be one of them. It just is not that big! Okay, maybe you could sleep three in a pinch, in good weather. To their credit, the web site does admit ‘Despite the incredible versatility of the First Arrow, if you must have a tent that three or more people can sit around in comfort take a look at the Cirque model.’ I am all for a bit of comfort.

The pole sleeves are very heavy fabric, far heavier than I would ever use myself. I was told that this has been necessitated by the way some novices try to poke the poles through the side of the pole sleeve. However, since I know that it is quite possible to thread poles through the length of a silnylon sleeve for years on end without damage, I am inclined to say that any novice who does that should pay for the repairs themself! My experience with these pole sleeves has been that the heavy fabric is its own problem: I had some trouble getting the poles into and out of the sleeves because the fabric was so heavy. When the fabric is icy, it gets even more difficult. Let’s just say I disagree with the company’s logic.

The groundsheet material is also rugged – similar logic. The guy ropes are ‘only’ 2.5 mm cord, but they still seem a bit heavy. However, the weight of the guys is not high, so it is a secondary matter. On the other hand, the First Arrow has been taken to the Indian Himalayas and used there successfully, as shown here. Okay, there are times when ‘rugged’ has a value! I will add that the rather heavy side-entry stuff sack provided with the tent does have a large (and rather superfluous) flap of groundsheet material: groundsheet repairs are definitely possible. Me, I would quickly make a lighter and smaller stuff sack. I think the company will also provide patches of the fly material if needed: they do carry some spare.

You can adjust the tension at the top of the tunnel using two end guys, visible in the photo here and in the next photo. On most tents, you set the tension by relying on the seams in the end bell. In addition, the guys can allow you to alter the curvature at the top of the pole – to reduce it, actually. This does protect the pole from being over-bent in the middle. But their real value is structural and is illustrated in the next photo.

The rear end does come to a point, so there is only one ‘end’ stake on this tent, but that does not mean the safety of the tent relies on that one end stake. As may be seen in two of the photos, there are two end guys as well to support the rear pole. The rear end is well braced.

Summary

There is little doubt this is a rugged tunnel tent, but you pay for it with extra weight, and the floor space and height are not great. That said, there is plenty of room for two people sleeping. There is adequate ventilation from the rear end for all-season use. You will need to be careful threading the poles into and out of the stiff sleeves (especially in the cold), and when opening the door in heavy rain. If you can handle all of that, it should last a long time.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and the author/BPL has returned or will return this product to the manufacturer upon completion of the review. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Vango Tempest 200 tent. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Vango Tempest 200 is a straight two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel. First, the specifications.

Details

This is a fairly standard slightly tapered two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel tent. It is not light, but since it has been approved for Duke of Edinburgh Award students, one suspects a major market is likely to be high school kids in the UK. It is built accordingly – but there were some little trivial funnies nonetheless. It comes with a repair kit and 16 rather massive stakes. You could comfortably leave some of those behind.

The tent is listed as having 2.5 poles, which is a bit unusual, but you can see the half-pole holding up the vestibule over the entry. This is actually a rather clever solution to several problems. First, the half pole makes extra space in the vestibule without increasing the footprint. Second, the roof from the main pole to the half pole covers a very large ventilation hole (covered with mesh of course), providing quite good ventilation while really keeping the rain out. Third, half a pole is lighter than a whole pole.

Of course, that means the tent really only has two poles for the main fly fabric, so it is not quite as storm-worthy as, say, a Macpac Olympus. One is tempted to suggest that the British are perhaps a bit more concerned with rain in their country. This idea is boosted by the fabric water pressure ratings: 5,000 mm water pressure for the fly and 6,000 m for the groundsheet. Incidentally, the fabric is a plain weave (I fully approve) with a distinctive honeycomb embossing – done with heat. The reinforcing at the corners is also done very well.

The rear end of the tent slopes down a bit, making the very rear less useful for sitting, but there seems to be a fair bit of floor space in the middle with adequate headroom. The sides go straight up fairly straight, and the front end is a lot wider than most. It might be possible for two people to almost sit side by side near the front end. You would certainly be able to pack a lot of gear down the sides of your mats.

There is no cover for this exterior vent, but the hood does cover it quite well. The rear end hood is the bit of fabric thrown back in this photo: normally it comes forward and holds two storm-worthy end guys. Combined with the front vent, this tent has quite a bit of ventilation.

The guy rope arrangement is a bit novel: there is a fixed loop of cord attached to the tent and an adjustable guy rope with toggle running off the middle of the loop, as shown here. The idea works fine. As delivered all the knots were some really queer thing which had me scratching my head a bit: I doubt the knots would have held in a storm. I retied all of them: a good exercise for some novice campers to go through before they leave home.

The first is the groundsheet, which extends from the inner tent door outwards to cover the vestibule floor. It is detachable via bungee cord loops. This has several good uses. The first is that you now have somewhere to sit inside the vestibule while getting out of very wet clothing – even if the ground is rather muddy. Trust me, it is nice to have. The second benefit is that by covering the vestibule area you limit the evaporation of water off the wet ground – reducing the amount of condensation inside the tent. The third is that you now have somewhere a little more pleasant than gooey mud to prepare dinner. Ah yes – it rains a lot in the UK!

The second thing to see in this photo is the two diagonal bits of webbing. They are inner tent guys, reinforcing the main pole. There are similar guys for the rear pole. Having these here will limit sideways sway if the wind should come from the side. They are adjustable, to conform to the vagaries of the ground, but they manage to be just clear of the inner tent. I have used a similar device on a dome tent with some success.

The photo also shows how the inner tent is attached to the fly and the poles – with bungee loops and little hooks. This works fine. However, when the tent was delivered it came in two parts, and I did find it a shade complex getting the two parts mated properly. This is something you need to do just once, but before you leave home!

Summary

This tent shows its heritage and intended market. It is fairly robust, very waterproof, and not too difficult to set up. It may not be ideal for a howling blizzard on a snowy col at 4,000 m, but it is not meant for that, after all.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Stephensons Warmlite 2R. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Stephensons Warmlite 2R is a tapered two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel. First, the specifications.

The web site lists the weight of the 2R as 2.75 lbs (1.25 kg), but that is considerably less than the weight of the tent tested. It may refer to the weight of the tent without the poles, or it may be that the zips on the tent tested were extra.

Details

This is a rather small tapered two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel tent deriving from the mid-2000s. The brand was created by Jack Stephenson, and the company is now run by his son Bill. The brand was famous (legendary? notorious?) for the scantily clad ladies in the early catalogs. Stephensons were very early users of lightweight materials and VBL materials. This tent would seem to be made from standard silnylon – in almost any of the wide range of colours available.

The sides are moderately wide, so you have plenty of storage space for gear at your sides. However, the rear end of the tent both tapers in and slopes down, so that it is only useful for your feet while sleeping.

The rear end, of course, has none either. That means you have no space to store your packs or shoes, and no space to cook during bad weather. We list the sitting space in Part 2 – that area where there is at least 80 cm of head room as being a scant 70 cm x 40 cm. One person might sit at the entrance, but the second person (and this is a two-man tent) will have to lie down the whole time.

Can one fit shoes outside the groundsheet but under the fly? No, because that narrow gap is covered in mesh to keep all the insects out. This mesh is visible in the photo here.

The entrance to the tent is a little strange. There is a single door on the end bell (no inner mesh door to keep out insects), but this door is secured by two sets of zips. There is an inner zip that runs from the pole arch down the side and across the bottom, making a sharp turn at the corner. It meets another zip coming down the other side. These are visible in the photo. But then there is a second zip running all the way down from the pole arch, in parallel with the first. It may be that this is meant to serve as a rain-flap over the first, but the design is extremely complex.

Unfortunately, it gets worse. The outer zip then extends beyond the end bell to form part of the ground anchor system for this tent. Just how strong the zipper is would be questionable. In addition, the zipper leaves the end bell at a bit of an angle, putting a very high load on the silnylon fabric at the point of departure. Fortunately, there is also a webbing anchor in parallel with the zipper. It is possible to tighten the webbing so it takes most of the load. However, half that tension goes to the groundsheet, which is also a strange decision. I find allowing a little slack in the groundsheet is essential on rough ground. The design also means that only half the tension in the webbing is applied to the roof of the tunnel, and this tension is crucial to the tent staying erect in bad weather.

By way of comparison, the vertical yellow tube is an Easton 344 (8.50 mm) pole. There are only two poles: Stephenson asserts that you don’t need a middle pole, although they will fit mid-point guy rope anchors to the fly at an extra cost.

However, considerable care needs to be taken with these poles as the walls are very, very thin, and the ferrules are very thin-walled. I measured the larger pole as having a 0.3 mm wall thickness; the Easton 344 pole has a wall thickness of 0.48 mm. What this means is that although the poles will be very stiff in the field, they will also be very susceptible to damage: dents will easily occur, and inadequate insertion will be disastrous.

It’s a rather ingenious arrangement. It is also a bit hard to find the first time you pitch the tent! There is no provision with this sort of design for tensioning the sleeve, but the sleeves seem to come out reasonably tensioned by design.

Now, guy ropes and anchoring. Well, there is no provision for guy ropes. None at all (unless you opt for the extra-cost mid-point ‘Wind Stabilisers’). Saves weight I guess. In truth, the rear end is probably small enough that it simply does not need any guy ropes, and the pole at the entry end is huge, so maybe it does not need any guy ropes either. Maybe. But that means the tent must be staked out with a very high lengthwise tension: far higher than normal. All that tension, plus the wind loading from the rear end, goes on one solitary staking point, shown here. Do you feel lucky? You may note that I chose to put two stakes (orange Ti wires) into the ground in the photo, and I had reservations about how well they would hold tension. I imagine a well-sunk ice axe might be a good idea in the mountains.

The rear end of the tent is blocked by mesh, with an ingenious silnylon cover flap. You pull the top end of the string and the flap comes up to block the mesh. No zip at the sides, but I think the idea is that the wind will push the silnylon flap against the mesh and block it that way. To get inwards ventilation, you pull the lower end of the cord. The main door has a mesh-covered vent as well. It can be zipped shut to keep the rain out. When open there is a bit of light elastic that keep the silnylon cover away from the mesh, to let the air through. However, there is no hood over the vent, so in bad weather you won’t get much ventilation.

The sewing is rough and very amateur, and so are some design features. Seen here is a major seam: it is single-stitched, with no hemming at all. Now it may be that a single line of stitches is strong enough in this position, but it looks terrible. This style of construction was found all over the tent. See also my comments about the main door zippers for instance, and look at the photos of the pole sleeve end and the loose bungee cord sticking out of the pole end cap. In our previous review of the Warmlite down air mat, the same problems with construction were found and commented on. For a tent priced at over $500, this is just not good enough. It pains me to say so, but the Chinese tents I own show a much higher quality of manufacture.

Summary

If you are looking for an ultralight survival tent for two people in the mountains, this might be just the thing. Expect it to function as a reasonable bivy bag for two and it will do that. Mind you, I would skip the side awnings and add the ‘wind stabilisers’ to the order. But if you want a bit more comfort, room for getting changed, sheltering for your gear, and room for cooking in bad weather, plus the ability to sit up in the tent, look elsewhere.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and the author/BPL has returned or will return this product to the manufacturer upon completion of the review. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Macpac Olympus. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site and from friends, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Macpac Olympus is a world-class tunnel tent designed to handle some of the harshest conditions in the world: the New Zealand Alps in winter. The Maori name for New Zealand is ‘The Land of the Long White Cloud;’ the rest of us often call it ‘The Land of the Long Black Never-Disappearing Cloud.’ I make no apologies for this tent. First, the specifications. Please note that they are for the current model of the Olympus, but I used to have the older version.

Details

This is a double-skin tunnel designed for very serious winter use, but usable all year round. I better point out that I owned an earlier model of the Olympus for many years, and found it lived up to its reputation in every way, so I may sound a little biased. I have also found that the distinctive shape gets recognized even in Europe – with respect. The sunny photos were, as usual, taken at my place – much warmer than in the snow!

The poles supplied with the tent are DAC Featherlite NSL. They are colour-coded so you know which pole goes where in a howling storm. However, at my urging, Easton supplied me with a matching pole set using their Carbon FX tubing and their alloy elbows. These poles weighed 395 g (13.9 oz), somewhat lighter, but very strong. At the time of writing, I understand Macpac was in discussion with Easton about this option. Both sorts of poles have those silly knobs on the pole feet, but the knobs are fairly small and the eyelets are rather large. I doubt the knobs will be a problem.

The UV30 fabric used for the fly is double-coated 30-denier double rip-stop nylon, basically a form of silnylon. At 60 gsm it is heavier than the common Westmark silnylon, but it still seems very light. As the name implies, the silicone polymer provides some UV resistance, and of course increases the fabric strength. It is rated to 3.5 metres hydrostatic head, which is very good compared to many silnylons.

Owing to the design of the bathtub floor and the interior tent, it is possible to unclip the front end of the ground sheet to roll it back a bit to make an even larger vestibule space. This can be very helpful when the weather is filthy and you need sheltered space to strip off storm gear. It also makes for a very large cooking area – larger in fact than one would normally need.

Snow Loading

Pole Sleeves

The Olympus has the pole sleeve inside the fly rather than outside – it has always been that way. The distinctive shape of the tent helps to locate the poles exactly where they should be, and I can attest that this works very well. You can only insert the poles from one side – they go into a webbing socket at the other end. The pole feet have little knobs but the eyelet on the insertion side is large enough. Sleeve tightening is achieved using webbing. The tent that I owned used Easton poles, but, as noted, Macpac has since switched to DAC poles.

Stakes

This is a tent designed to handle very serious conditions. Macpac supplies four large tube stakes for the ends and 12 special Macpac-design channel stakes, and a very light silnylon bag. They should hold under any summer conditions, but are not usually good enough for the snow. A common end-bell anchor for snow conditions with this tent is often a couple of ice axes, although two deadman anchors are fine.

Summary

Yes, lots of hype, lots of claims, not the lightest tent on the market, and expensive. That does not stop an awful lot of people in our neck of the woods from buying this tent and using it hard. It was born for use in this sort of country and is regarded by many as a gold standard for tunnels.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and the author/BPL has returned or will return this product to the manufacturer upon completion of the review. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

This is a mini-review to go with our series on tunnel tents. It reviews the Hilleberg Nallo 2 tent. Some of the illustrations are from the manufacturer’s web site, used here with acknowledgement.

Introduction

The Hilleberg Nallo 2 is a slightly tapered two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel, although there is an expanded version as well. First, the specifications.

Kerlon is silicone impregnated, but essentially custom to Hilleberg. They started using it around 1975, but are a bit cagey about what Kerlon 1200 is made from.

Details

This looks like a fairly standard two-pole two-man double-skin tunnel tent, and it is just that. It is a full double-wall tent, but moderately lightweight. Hilleberg claims “Certainly, they are suitable for exposed and/or above treeline use in all seasons,” and general experience supports that claim.

For campers who need more space in the vestibule, Hilleberg offers the Nallo 2 GT. It has a third pole to make an expanded vestibule. One of these is shown in Part 2.

The interior of the tent has reasonable floor space for two, and very reasonable headroom. The rear end of the tent does slope down, making the very rear less useful for sitting, but there seems to be a fair bit of floor space in the middle with high headroom. The sides go straight up and the middle is wider than most (130 cm vs 110 cm), so the middle region is quite usable. You would certainly be able to pack a lot of gear down the sides of your mats.

The stuff sacks are silnylon and very light. The 16 stakes are DAC angle stakes with rounded ends, which are comfortable to the hand. They go in a bit easier than the traditional Y-stakes. The ‘spares’ provided include a repair sleeve and a spare pole section. This suggests they think the fabric and the zips are going to last.

Visible in this photo, as well as the previous one, is a length of webbing going across the end of the tent. This webbing holds the corners of the side panels in place when you have the door wide open. Yes, you can open the door upwards or downwards; it’s shown opened downwards in this case. I usually do it this way because I find the door flaps around and falls down in the doorway when opened upwards. That can be inconvenient, or even alarming, when I am cooking in the vestibule.

Summary

Winter conditions in Northern Europe can be a bit severe, and Hilleberg tents have to be able to take such punishment on a routine basis. The photo shown here is from a web video, and is of a Nallo 2 pitched in the open in a saddle (think mouth of funnel) in a storm. I have used this as an illustration, because I haven’t ‘enjoyed’ such extreme weather myself recently. Personally, I would have put a little more lengthwise tension into the tent, but I understand that the occupants were quite happy. (Actually, I might have tried to find a more sheltered campsite, but sometimes that just doesn’t happen.)

Copyright Acknowledgment

Some of the photos used have been extracted from other peoples’ videos, often posted on YouTube or other sites. Judging by the variable quality, some of them were most likely taken with a phone camera. We acknowledge the owner’s copyright on these photos.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

Here there be an in-depth review of one contender from Dave Chenault’s Ultralight Waterproof-Breathable Jacket SOTMR, the GoLite Malpais. On paper (or more appropriately, “on monitor”), the Malpais has everything a gear junkie could possibly want. Very light (7.0 oz / 198.4 g), waterproof but breathable, and all the little features… a full hood, full zipper, two pockets, and adjustable cuffs. The Malpais is even made using a three-ply fabric, which should prove more durable in the long haul. But does real-world experience with the jacket remind us of the disparity between some online dating profiles and the actual person?

The first thing I noticed was the size and weight of the Malpais in its package. I’ve had windbreakers that felt heavier! When I started handling the jacket, its touch was silky and a reinforced kind of wispy. The tricot scrim of the third ply is of an exceptionally fine gauge, a barely discernible texture to its feel. The inside of the jacket is finished in a clean, restrained manner. The face fabric is about as silky as ripstop nylon will get. The pocket liners are of fine-gauge mesh and laminated to the shell.

Moving outward on inspection, the cuffs are curvy and shaped, with a sleek laminated tab for hook and loop (ie Velcro) closures; the attachment points are three neatly-placed dots of loop. The hood is noticeably large and deep, and its visor is substantial. It seems like one of the “features” most manufacturers skimp on for uber-light jackets is a good brim, and it baffles me, because a good visor can so greatly enhance a good hood. At any rate, that’s here! The hood has two hook and loop dots on back which seemed, frankly, almost superfluous – in essence, one dot is “neutral,” which allows for a single position of about 1.5 inches (3.8 cm) of adjustment. The front cord of the hood is incorporated very cleanly into the shell, a construction I’ve admired time and again when I’ve picked up the jacket, and the small shock cord tightens with a tiny neoprene line tensioner/rack/tri-slidish thing… more on that adjustment piece later.

Pulling on the jacket made me feel pretty much like the Hulk, as though I was of beastly growing proportions and on the verge of bursting through the material. Although the material almost seems to have a bit of stretch, it ain’t enough to accommodate the fit… this jacket runs a size small. The fit was so strange, in fact, that I had several friends of widely varying body habitus try on the Malpais. Conclusion? The fit is funky and small. It seemed to fit significantly tighter around the chest and shoulders than around the belly and lower back… or perhaps you could think of it as fitting more like a suit jacket than a rain jacket. The arm length was almost short on ME in the medium I would normally wear, and I normally find sleeves to be several inches too long. The cut was extremely restrictive… everyone who tried it on pretty much laughed when they tried to move. (Upon reflection, I suppose you could describe the fit as pear-like, or more Christmas tree than “V.”) One or two of the guys who run between a small and medium found the medium to jussssst fit. It is probably worthwhile to note that I was a retail buyer for about a decade, and between those who trial-fitted the jacket was probably another 15-20 years of experience with technical garments like this.

Needless to say I re-ordered the jacket a size up, going from a medium to a large. When the large came… well, the fit was still funky. And, honestly, still seemed a little tight, though mostly agreeably livable, to all who tried it on. It was strange, having a significant amount of room in the belly, but wondering if you would be able to wear more than a single layer to fit in the chest area of the shell. The large seemed like it would work just fine, though, and we moved on to other details.

The next thing that sprang (er, zipped) to attention was the zipper. I have helped so many people zip up new jackets that I should probably add “Zipper Slayer” to my resume, because I’m just that good and that experienced making finicky zippers work fine. That said, the Malpais zipper remains as curmudgeonly as the first day I donned the jacket. It works, but it’s stubborn. It doesn’t want to start. But once started, it zips up fine and stays closed, and I’ve always been able to get the zipper going (reminds me of getting an old car going in winter).

The pockets are in a great place for an around-town jacket, easy access for the day-to-day stuff, at a comfortable level. However, the pockets are also dead-center of a hipbelt, so if you were planning on wearing this ultralight rainjacket, say, backpacking… well, then, you’d best plan on not using the pockets. They are so perfectly placed at hipbelt level that it seems clear the designers had no intention of this being worn with a pack. Weird. If this jacket is, indeed, intended for use in the backcountry, while wearing a pack, I would recommend the pockets be (a) eliminated or (b) moved higher on the jacket. Bottom line, though, the pockets do not actively interfere with use of a pack… it wears fine with a pack, you just can’t really use the pockets.

I liked the minimalist design aesthetic of the neoprene “line tensioner” adjuster for the hood draw cords. Nice, clean, streamlined look. Field use, however, showed that the tensioners were probably best for the showroom. Quite simply, they don’t hold enough tension to keep their position on the cord when I’ve been in even a mild blow. The jacket would be a better product if these tensioners were simply replaced with a micro spring-toggle type. The neoprene things drove me batty on days I really wanted to batten down the hatches, given that I couldn’t keep things battened.

The cuffs fit nicely, and like so many other aspects of the jacket, they fit cleanly. The three dots of Velcro, however, were not quite sufficient for my taste. They do not afford much room for adjustment (think power tools: “on or off” versus “variable speed”), and I found that they would come unfastened periodically, seemingly of their own accord. Over all it wasn’t a big deal, they worked, but they were a bit of a nagging nuisance at times… and I think that sense was heightened by an otherwise great execution on cuff fit.

As the test period continued, I was surprised by how often I found myself wearing the Malpais. This’ll sound stupid, but it’s easy to wear. I think it’s an effect born of the minimal weight and a barely-there kind of feel? I did notice that the extra volume of the lower part of the jacket, combined with the (loaded) lower pockets, required zipping up the jacket to prevent swaying slap-happiness. I found the Malpais comfortable in a wide range of conditions and activities.

Breathability is hard to judge objectively. I generally believe that if you’re moving enough to sweat, you should wear less… so my tendency is to avoid wearing a shell unless it is particularly cool, wet, or windy. I did wear extra layers to stimulate sweat production for some parts of testing. Breathability struck me as average.

The fabric of my Malpais started showing small partial delamination puckers after relatively mild wear, less than a season of use. The good news is that although the points of delamination seem evident over the surface of the entire jacket, it doesn’t seem to be spreading from point to point… it seems “contained.” The delams uniformly stem from the edge of the ripstop grid, and most are contained to the perimeter of those grids, but some do cover, for example, the center of a grid or a few adjoining grids. The location and distribution of puckers made me consider whether it was purely a visual effect, some correlation of the micro gridstop and superlight fabric… but a more in-depth investigation of the fabric surface indicates regular partial delamination. (Some of the lamination difference in, say, seam tape can be seen even on heavier shell materials of other jackets, but the Malpais seems accentuated more than its weight would suggest.) The bumps or bubbles, for example, do not occur just at grid junctions, but also along lines and multiple cells. Also consistent with my experience of waterproof-breathable fabric delamination is a noted concentration of the defects at higher-wear areas of the jacket. How concerned am I about potential delamination? Not particularly, really. Strictly speaking, it shouldn’t affect performance much, and so far it seems as though it probably won’t make a significant impact on garment longevity. It is, however, a cosmetic issue that is indicative of a potential for reduced service life of the jacket. Otherwise, durability of the shell was quite good, holding up to some mild brush-busting kinda travel.

So where does that leave us? While the Malpais shines in some areas, it is not an “end-all” piece. The light weight and great hand of the jacket, combined with a full front zip, make it a joy to “just toss on.” (Except when you’re stuck standing there, just trying to get the zipper started.) The jacket fit, however, needs some reconsideration, and the hood desperately needs some cord locks that, well, lock, and a rear adjustment with better range. As I noted earlier, I don’t see the point in putting pockets at “city” level for an ultralight shell… and I’d guess that GoLite decided to produce this jacket more specifically toward the travel-oriented crowd, not the ultralight backpacking crowd. Whoever they’re marketing this jacket for, though, it could use a few tweaks. It works, it’s really light, it packs small, and it’s not likely to blow apart on you anytime soon… all of which make it worthy of consideration, though in certain aspects the jacket is remarkably average.

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

Introduction

While adventure racing might not be on the radar of most ultralight backpackers, adventure racing gear certainly shows up on our pack lists and wish lists quite often. Companies like Terra Nova, OMM, Inov-8, Salomon, and Brooks-Range are well known for their drool-worthy adventure racing equipment and clothing. Now UK-based Berghaus has entered the fray. Their special R&D team, MtnHaus, has given special effort to designing the frameless Octans 40 for two-time Adventure Racing World Champion, Team Orion.

It is not often that Backpacking Light reviews an adventure race pack. However, the Octans 40 has definite crossover appeal to ultralight backpackers. As such, we are reviewing it as a backpack, not as an adventure racing pack.

Specifications

Description

The Octans 40 is a feature-rich frameless rucksack that weighs 24.7 ounces (700 g). The pack’s volume should be big enough for most ultralight backpackers: 2440 cubic inches (40 L), plus at least another 500 cubic inches (8 L) in the pockets. The feature set seems minimalist at times, with no back panel mesh and no frame, and yet extravagant (at least in UL terms) with eight pockets, a lid, and a three-liter hydration reservoir holder.

Performance

Kristin and I used the Octans 40 for a number of hikes throughout the European Alps in the Spring of 2011. I am 6’0″ (1.83m) and she is 5’7″ (1.70m) and the shoulder straps and hipbelt are sufficiently adjustable for fitting the pack to our different length torsos.

The foam pad did exactly what it is supposed to do: increase structural rigidity and add cushioning to the back panel. The foam does not absorb water. At 1.48 ounces (42 g) it could be removed to save weight, but this would not be worth it for most backpackers. For comparisons sake, this is almost exactly the same weight as the foam panel on the 2011 GoLite Peak, though the Berghaus foam is slightly denser and thinner and is perforated. I was comfortable carrying about 20 pounds (9.1 kg) with the Octans 40, which is standard for frameless backpacks (see review of GoLite Peak).

The foam pad is of course removable and may even be used by hardy adventure racers as a sleeping pad. Backpackers would probably use a half– or three-quarter-length sleeping pad and put this backpack under their legs. As an added bonus, the size of the foam sleeve (21 x 10 in / 53 x 25 cm) is such that a user could replace the Berghaus pad with their own folded-up sleeping pad, either three-quarter air or torso-sized foam, and it would be held in place and protected from the contents of the main compartment.

The hydration reservoir pocket is huge, to the point that it may be considered overkill. I have owned half a dozen hydration bladders, but none are as wide and deep as this hydration pocket, 9.5 x 19 inches (24.1 x 28.2 cm). Out of curiosity on one hike, I was able to put 6 liters into the pocket. On the plus side, the pocket is big enough to slide two to four sections of a Therm-a-Rest Z-Rest. This adds more rigidity to the pack without pushing the center of gravity too far away from the user’s back.

The lack of mesh on the back panel does not bother me. I have used a GoLite Jam for years, which does not have mesh, and so I am used to it. However, some users might find it uncomfortable. With three layers of fabric and a foam pad in between, back sweat won’t push through to the contents inside the main compartment. The mesh-less back panel is good for backpackers in wet climates, as mesh tends to quicken the break down of waterproof shells.

I think the lid pocket is really great. At first I was unsure why Berghaus put mesh fabric on the top of the lid pocket. Any precipitation would soak right through to the contents of the pockets (but unlikely to get into the pack, as the bottom fabric is 70d ripstop). In sunny weather, the pocket works as well as any, with the added bonus that you can put wet clothing up there to dry (I wash my socks every day). In inclement weather, I have decided that the best use of the lid pocket is to hold a rain or wind shell, as long as the jacket is folded up such that the interior jacket fabric is not exposed. When the jacket is stored there, it can add an extra layer of water protection to the lid or conversely, dry out when the weather is good. When the weather turns ugly, the jacket is accesseble without opening the main compartment. The 15-inch (38-cm) long zipper wraps half way around the entire lid, allowing superb access.

The side pockets work well with some water bottles, but not others. The pockets are too shallow to securely hold Nalgenes, for example, unless the pack is fairly empty. I have had good luck with certain varieties of 1L bottled water and the 1L Platypus. The front pocket is a nice size and the mesh make it a good place to hold wet items, like a tarp, or trail-accessible items like an extra layer, sit pad, or camp shoes.

Sternum straps don’t generally gather accolades, but I think this one is great. The strap has 6.5 inches (16.5 cm) of vertical adjustment along the shoulder strap. One side of the strap has a stretch nylon which can expand from 1.5 to 3.5 inches (3.8 to 8.9 cm). This keeps the backpack snug and stable, without being as restrictive of torso movements and breathing as a static strap. To top it off, the sternum buckle has a built-in whistle. None of these features are extraordinary, but to have them all was much appreciated. For those who don’t use a sternum strap, this one is removable.

The wide shoulder straps are very comfortable and allow better breathability than most straps that I have tried. The lift loaders are probably unnecessary for most backpackers (and can be cut off to save weight), but are appreciated by adventure racers for load stability. The shoulder strap’s webbing is extra long and has thumb loops at the end. These worked fine when I tested them, but I never got into the habit of using them. Many hikers use trekking poles, myself included, so thump loops are not desired. These straps could be shortened by the user to save weight, or at least to eliminate the dangling portion.

I am undecided about the chest pocket. It does allow me to keep one more item close at hand, whether it be a map and compass, GPS unit, camera, or a wind shell. There is the choice of three attachment points (little red loops) on each of the shoulder straps and hipbelts, so the pocket can fit around an assortment of bellies. However, the pocket may not be worth the hassle of having to take it off before being able to take off the rest of the pack. This is especially true when there are already two large hipbelt and side pockets.

The hipbelt is excellent. It is comfortable to wear, yet does a good job of transferring pack weight to the hips. I think this is partially due to the unique design: the hipbelts are sewn 2.0 inches (5.1 cm) in from the normal attachment point (the outermost edge of the pack). This placement really allows for a good fit, which is maybe how Berghaus got away with such a light hipbelt. The hipbelt pockets are nicely sized – big enough to be useful, but not too big as to get in the way. Hard items, like my camera, did not dig into my hips. The one-way #3 YKK zipper operated smoothly and allowed ample access to the pocket. The stretchy mesh fabric adjusted to the contours of the contents.

While appearance doesn’t generally affect performance, something has to be said about the visual charactaristics of the Octans 40. The Intense blue and blaze red colors, along with the giant Berghaus logo, make this pack really stand out, and not necessarily in a good way. For racing, standing out might be seen as a good thing. For backpackers, however, the colors might be considered too bright to have a place in the wilderness. I don’t like the glaring colors, but some might appreciate the ability to flag down emergency helicopters with the pack (I generally own a bright rain shell for this reason). Certainly, white pockets aren’t the best for backpacking as they show dirt too quickly.

Assessment

The focus of the Octans 40 is on speed, which means that function is given a higher priority than low pack weight. If the net effect is that an added feature enables the racer to go faster, then it would be worth the weight penalty. Accordingly, the Octans 40 has a lot of pockets for easy, on-trail access, and a few features that a backpacker might not need. There are a few little things that could be done to lower the weight, like eliminate the interior lid pocket, shorten the hipbelt and shoulder strap webbing, shrink the hydration reservoir sleeve, and remove the load lifter straps.The Octans 40 is definitely light, but there are several backpacks on the market that are A) lighter, B) weigh the same but also have a frame, or C) weigh the same and use more durable materials.

The Octans 40 is relatively tough and should last a long time, but it’s not burly enough for winter alpine use. The 70 denier ripstop is a nice middle ground between ultralight sil-nylon and ultra-durable Dyneema Gripstop. The abundant use of mesh, however, might be a weak point in the long run. That being said, we found the mesh to be reasonably durable and suffered no holes, snags, or abrasions. During our testing period, Kristin and I were also traveling, and we used the Octans 40 as a travel bag, so it saw a lot of use.

Unfortunately, the pack’s compression system is too limited to make the Octans 40 usable as a day pack. The color scheme, particularly the white mesh, isn’t ideal for wilderness settings. The pack is only available in one size, so it will not fit those on either end of the spectrum of torso or waist sizes.

However, there are plenty of reasons to like the Octans 40. The plethora of pockets will be appreciated by those who like to be uber-organized. The volume hits a sweet spot that should please most ultralight backpackers. The shoulder straps and hipbelts are some of the best I’ve used. There are a lot of well thought-out features and design innovations. At $110, the pack certainly represents a very good value. I bet it makes a killer adventure racing pack!

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge, and it is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.

Introduction

Easton Mountain Products have been making trekking poles since 2008 and introduced the three-piece adjustable CTR-70 trekking poles in 2010. The long-time carbon fiber tent pole maker’s effort boasts some of the category’s largest diameter carbon fiber shafts, which should equate to very strong poles. Does the equation actually pencil out, and what kind of trade-offs does this mean for weight conscious backpackers?

Specifications

Description

The Easton Mountain Products CTR-70 Poles were the company’s first trekking poles, but had many years of their tent pole making experience behind them. It shows.

The CTR-70 poles are made of three sections of carbon fiber with a multi-directional carbon layer construction. The shafts, which are in three telescoping sections, are pretty beefy at 19 mm diameter for the upper, 17 mm for the middle, and 15 mm for the lower section. The sections have been painted and the weave of the fiber can’t be seen through it.

The lower and middle sections have adjustment marks applied in 1-inch (2.5-cm) increments which, when set to the corresponding marks, will adjust the pole from 39 to 52.5 inches (100 to 140 cm) in 2-inch (5-cm) steps. Of course, they can be set to any length in between also. A “stop” is printed 1 inch (2.5 cm) above the last mark on both sections.

Attached to the lower ends of the upper and middle pole sections are Easton’s patent-pending Rock-Lock clamps. The clamps are a low-profile toggle joint design that uses a cam action to lock the pole sections in place. To adjust the Rock-Lock, you rotate the buckle lever to the desired position (which increases or decreases the pressure put on the shaft), re-engage the toggle joint, and snap the lever closed. Once set to the desired tension, the lever can be locked and unlocked for collapsing the pole without losing locking tension. In the picture immediately above, one of the clamps is in the open position, the other is closed. The body of the Rock-Lock wraps around the shaft and itself when closed.

At the top of the CTR-70 poles is an extended gripping area made of EVA foam. The upper portion of the grip is pretty good sized, maybe the largest I have had to date on my various trekking poles. The grips are not right-and-left, so it does not matter which pole you grab first. The very top of the grip is a more durable rubber-type material, which will take more abuse when palming the top of the poles on a steep descent. The extended portion of the grip is a 7.25-inch (18.4-cm) continuation of the EVA foam.

The handles have a pin running through the top, which is used to hold the Dura-Light webbing straps, which are the widest straps I have ever seen on trekking poles. The straps adjust by way of a knurled locking plug in the back of the grip. The adjustment strap runs over and back under it. Lifting the strap upwards allows the plug to be pulled out for adjustment. When the plug is pushed back in and pressure is applied downward to the strap (such as it would be in use), the strap is locked in place.

One thing I found right away is that the straps are so big and wide that, while very supportive, they made my wrist sweat like crazy. After my first trip with them I pulled them off. I weighed the straps to find that yanking them saved a full ounce (29 g) per pole!

At the business end of the CTR-70 poles is a hard nylon tip with a press-in, replaceable carbide point. The carbide is concave instead of knurled at the tip. A set of small trekking baskets came attached to the poles. While all my other trekking poles made me purchase wider snow baskets, Easton sees fit to include them. Nice!

Performance

Because of a horrible work situation, I ended up getting to really put these poles to the test. I put 600 miles (966 km) of backpacking in with them. In California, I used them heavily in the Sierra Nevada where I hiked in Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National Parks along with a lot of other State Forests and Wilderness Areas. These trips saw elevations to over 13,000 feet (3,962 m) and a lot of rough rocky trails. The poles also saw a lot of river and stream crossings with trips along, and in, the Sespe and San Gabriel rivers. With record snowfall, normally placid streams were pretty challenging at times and I literally leaned heavily on the CTR-70 poles.

I also used them quite a bit in Minnesota, much of it on snow either pulling a gear sled or carrying a pack. Most of the trips were on the North Country Trail in Itasca State Park, Paul Bunyan and Mississippi Headwaters State Forests, and Chippewa National Forest. The most memorable trip was three days backpacking in Voyageurs National Park where we were just a couple miles from the border of Canada. It got down to -31 F (-35 C) on that trip. We alternated hiking on frozen lakes and then going onto “land” to try to trace the Cruiser Trail System. There was so much snow that we hiked over the brush and downed trees, many times punching through and thrashing our poles in the hidden branches. My hiking partner lost two baskets to the brush, only being able to save one, while my Eastons never blinked. On the frozen lake, the tips bit nicely into the ice, allowing me to propel myself somewhat.

The Rock-Lock clamps work quite well. I never had them slip while they were in the closed position. I specify “closed position” because I found that since the poles are identical (not right or left), the upper lever on my right-hand pole will sometimes bounce off heavy brush into my side and catch the cargo pocket of my pants. Every once in a while it is enough to pop the lever open. If the poles were made with the Rock-Locks spun around on one pole, this would never happen.

Other than that, the Rock-Locks are great. They are fast and easy to adjust, so much easier than my twist lock poles. This is especially nice when using with a shelter like the Nemo Meta, where raising the pole after placing it inside works best. The CTR-70 poles worked great with my other pole-supported shelters too. Their length is perfect for Henry Shires’s Sublites.

Although I had problems with the straps, the grips themselves are great. They are the best fitting grips I have used to date. I have large hands and many grips are too skinny to be comfortable. Like Goldilocks said, “these ones are just right.” I do not ever use the extended portion of the grip, but I do palm the top when descending steep areas. I found the grip quite comfortable for this application too.

The poles are very strong, and the standard BackpackingLight weight test shows it. With the pole resting on two chairs 43.3 inches (110 cm) apart, I hung a collapsible bucket with 25 pounds (11.34 kg) at the center. The pole only deflected 1.2 inches (30.5 mm), as can be seen to the right.

Durability has been very good. I really beat the crud out of these poles. Once when trying to go under a deadfall at the same time as I stepped over another one, I caught my pack and ended up taking a fall. My right pole flipped over the lower tree, hitting the ground handle down with the upper section of pole leaning on the trunk. I fell onto the pole and grimaced, expecting to hear the crunch of another pole. (I did mention not being nice to poles, right?) Instead, I literally bounced off the pole. I carefully tweaked it, testing to see if it was cracked, but could find nothing wrong.

On one very overgrown section of the North Country Trail, I used the poles to shove branches and saplings away. Sometimes they were too strong to move and ended up pushing me off the trail. The poles held up fine to this too. But they finally met their match a month ago when my brother-in-law and I bushwhacked to the top of a peak and then cut down it to intercept the Pacific Crest Trail in the San Gabriel Mountains. I slipped on a steep section of granite and slid downhill until I was stopped by a large boulder. Unfortunately, my left pole was between me and the rock, and my thigh or hip snapped the pole near the top of the lowest section.

Assessment

When we were first asked to look at these poles, Easton said they would be 17 ounces (482 g) per pair. That was a lot more than I was used to for three-season, and when they came at the now properly stated higher weight, I was a bit disappointed. That is one reason I decided to wait to use them in winter where I have heavier poles anyway. I ended up really liking the poles and used them for almost every hike I took over the past 17 months. I can only compare them to my Black Diamond Alpine CF carbon fiber poles, which have been my go-to winter pole for a few years now. While the Eastons are an ounce (29 g) heavier, I find them much more comfortable and think they are a stronger pole. I know they are much thicker than my BDs. My buddy that kept getting his baskets torn off? Carbon fiber Black Diamonds.

While I will go back to a lighter pole for three-season use, I am going to see if I can buy a new section to replace the one I broke and keep these for my go-to winter poles. Anybody want some Black Diamonds?

Disclosure: The manufacturer provided this product to the author and/or Backpacking Light at no charge and is owned by the author/BPL. The author/Backpacking Light has no obligation to the manufacturer to review this product under the terms of this agreement.