What our gear says about us…

"Not sure what mine says about me…

I have literally dozens of jackets: puffies, synthetics, fleeces, LOVE 'EM!…and I live in one of the hottest places on earth. Seriously."

Jen, that made me laugh. I grew up in Southern CA, in a coastal area. I hardly ever got to touch snow, as my folks didn't even want to vacation anywhere that had the white stuff. And what did I buy??? I bought mukluks, balaclavas, and a USAF Arctic parka. Of course my family thought I was nuts, and none of the gear could be used in Orange County, where I lived. Then when I turned 19 I got called to go on a mission for my church (you get no say in where they are sending you). I got sent to Canada for a couple years (LOVED it), where we had one month that never got above -30C. Guess what I wore…yep, my USAF parka, mukluks, and balaclava. I finally felt vindicated. Hahaha

Depends on who's looking at your gear…

If it's a 3rd world person living in a slum in India, I expect they would notice little difference in any of our gear lists and they would most like think it says we are all spoiled, self-indulgent people out of touch with the real world… :)
(certainly out of touch with that part of the world)

billy

You might be right, Billy, and I know we have members who have been to third world countries here who can answer for certain. But I keep remembering the video series with Charly Boorman and Ewan McGregor, the "Long way Round" and "Long Way Down", where they rode their pimped out BMW motorcycles around the world and to the bottom of South Africa. The overwhelming opinion you get of the third world countries they passed through was that the locals absolutely loved checking out their cool gear and "farkles" (as we M/C riders call our gear toys). I didn't see any of the loathing attitude you're mentioning. The vast majority of the attitude seemed like genuine interest, enthusiasm, and excitement.

Certainly not third world, but when I rode my bike through East Germany, I always had (especially younger folk) marveling at my kitted out bike and 'cool' Oakley sunglasses – no negativity I could see. When I was in Haiti (not with my bike) people were eager to chat and learn about what my life was like – no negativity there either.

People, whether in a third world country or elsewhere, are generally inquisitive, interested, and almost always quite friendly to strangers. It's been like that every place I've been, and I've been lots and lots of places.

I just landed in the US this morning after spending a week in India.

Of the many people I had conversations with, 99% of them wanted to know where I was from, what I thought of India, and what I did for a living. None of them asked about my backpack or my thoughts on the great Cuben vs silnylon debate which was fine with me.

The only "gear talk" we had was to make sure I bring some gear to fish for trout and to backpack when I return in the future to visit/backpack Kashmir.

All of them were genuinely excited about the fact that they would soon host president Obama for republic day later this month in Delhi.

My experiences mirror Doug's. When you actually meet the very people who are often misrepresented by the media, the very large majority of them are warm and welcoming people. Doug has more experience than I because, you know, he's an old fart.

My gear says I camp primarily in Minnesota, which means that you can do your first night at 25°F, 90°F during the following day, and back to 25° for the night time.

It doesn't always, but it almost always CAN. It's very annoying to pack for a trip this way.

Also you'll learn about me that I have no patience for buying cookware, and that whenever I see a thread on BPL about shoes my eyes glaze over, and I look for something else to read about.

After thinking about my gear I've concluded that it says I am a broke college kid….I'm not as light as i'd want to be but can't afford some of these cottage manufactures products…

Sure! My gear list shows that I'm a bargain-hunting cheapskate with a penchant for the Ten Essentials :)

Like any stereotype or assumption the accuracy is fraught with dangers, but the general leanings are usually obvious.

Well, I think that what my pack says about me is that I am someone who feels cold easily, and does not want to be either cold or hungry. Most of my pack volume is the warm stuff I need to carry to avoid being miserable; at least I've been able to get both the weight and the volume of stuff down significantly over the past few years.

But what my gear closet (or, interestingly enough, as my phone thinks I'm trying to say, fear closer) says about me is different. I'm afraid that it says I am unable to commit to only one choice of many items, instead holding on to several brands/models of some items, because "this one is better for condition x, and this one might be better for y". Nowhere is this as evident as in the pile of tents – always looking for the perfect one. This is probably because I am just not able to get out enough to just realize that I'd be fine with just one option; instead, I sit and obsess over choices. This is something I hope to work on…

My gear says nothing about me. It just shakes its head sadly, with a single tear running down its cuben/dyneema/titanium face.

Yes a fair point, having worked in disaster zones with those affected by conflict or by natural disasters usually earthquakes I'd have to put my hand up and say yes this is what I know of as 'first world' problem. However I'd also say that having worked in and with some of the poorest and most vulnerable communities in South Asia I was humbled by the lack of comparison people made even though I had gear and would go back home at the 'end' of the immediate disaster impacts. I'm sure you have similar experience which is informing what you say, and I respect that, thanks for the reminder.

I've thought a bit more about (Billy's?) post about this being a first world issue. When I was a kid I used to read Laura Ingalls Wilder and her pioneering stories. I used to love the frugality, the simplicity and what I now recognise as close to the knuckle only just making ends meet.

I grew up in a poor family in the UK, not real teeth grinding poverty, but the next stage up, where every penny was not just counted but recorded to make sure we could meet all bills each month. I remember my mum losing a pound note (back when we had them) and crying with relief when she found it. My grandma went to the workhouse three times because she was so poor, my dad remembers times of terrible hunger. My dad! Who is now 87 and a real love.

Laura's family felt similar to mine, that they made hard choices, that a penny in a stocking and a piece of candy was fantastic at Christmas time (I remember getting a satsuma, a sugar mouse, a toy car, in my stocking and my gran had hand knitted a whole pile of dolls clothes). That they used it up, wore it out, made it do, or did without every day.

And this brings me up to the present day – education took me out of that level of scrimp and save and I have disposable income. My parents made hard sacrifices to get me here, and I'm grateful and have repaid this not just by being a decent daughter, but by working in the charitable sector – education, disaster relief, and third sector management for the last 25 years. It's not about the money it's about the people for me.

But what about Laura? A couple of years ago I read a doctoral thesis on The Ingalls family and Laura's writing in particular. What many of the stories are about are what Laura would buy and or eat if she could. They really are stories of the American Dream. That everyone if they worked hard and strove could succeed and be prosperous. I hadn't thought of them like that, so I went back and re-read them. They are so about aspiration, it's moving and at time her descriptions of what she had told us about her fears, and sometimes her hopes.

So, I continue to know that I pack my hopes and my fears and also my sheer blessed relief at economic independence and security. My gear is my social and economic capital – so a new phrase, my gear capital is well in credit… And I'm grateful because that has not always been so.

Not sure anyone mentioned it, but to answer the question, I would suggest starting with reading the"The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien.

Two Words: Anal Retentive

Actually ken, I believe the two words were "delicate flower."

HA! Or was it "Tenderfoot" ….or "Monk", Mosey?

My gear doesn't talk to me. It must not have anything to say…

My gear is a tool.

Not sure what is really says about me.

Using Lizz's essay about her childhood and gear as a template (thanks..btw, really enjoyed it!), I guess that is the legacy of *my* upbringing.

3+ generations of trades people on my Dad's side prior to my brother's and I. It is not the tools you bought that defined you, it is what you did with them. I have seen the beautiful stone masonry my great-grandfather did in Providence and in Italy before he immigrated. , I am able to drive over the bridge my grandfather helped to construct and when I read about submarines, there is a good chance some of my Dad's handiwork is on that boat.

I do not know what brand of trowel was used for the masonry, or what toolbox my grandfather had and my Dad, on purpose, left all his sheet metal tools behind when he retired. What ball peen hammer he used is forgotten.

But what I can see is the beauty (even with the submarine), the precision and the substance of what was built. Their legacy.

In the same way, my gear is just a tool so I can go outdoors. I'd like to think the output of my outdoor "work" speaks for me, for good or ill, more so than the gear I used to get out there : My ramblings I can charitably call writing, my photos and and of course the memories I have from my time spent outdoors.

So, I don't think our gear says anything.

What do you do with the gear?

"So, I don't think our gear says anything.
What do you do with the gear?"
Being extremely heavy-handed and rather insensitive to the fragile nature and special needs of lightweight gear, I damage a lot of it.
That's why my gear doesn't say much. It's afraid of bringing attention to itself!

Tools may not define you, but they do reflect your priorities when chosen to better facilitate a desired result.

Pack? Sleeping bag? Shelter? Stove? Shoes?

It means I enjoy walking and statying out at night. ;)

The specifics are just fine details that fuel aN 11.4 billion dollar industry .
http://outdoorindustry.org/news/industry.php?newsId=18005

So, again, "what do you do with the tools" is the telling point rather than the tool s themselves. At least in my .05 worth of opinion…

That we go backpacking?

Ha… if folks all buy gear to actually go backpacking — Patagonia and The North Face would have gone bankrupt long ago. As many SUV owners would admit if they were honest — it's also the image and the feeling… :)

Hi hi hi, I'm Lizz's backpack. I'm mostly yellow. I used to be used for climbing when she was at college, decades ago, she's middle aged now, but she's hung on to me. I'm also pink and purple and red. I don't have a frame, but I do have a padded back. She took off all the external straps on my sides – I felt a bit weird and naked for a while. Then she took off the ice axe loop. But then she added some net pockets. It was such a relief, I thought she'd been seduced by a pretty jam 50. I say rock star on the lid. And I am. Lizz is quite good as an owner. She doesn't throw me around, though she has sat on me and used me as a sleeping mat. Really the indignation!

At the moment she's on a trip with me to west Wales – snow rain hail and wind. She's quite good at dry bags and stuff sacks I can hear them snuggling inside me. Makes me feel warm and protective. She'so been very good really and has come to about thirty countries with me. I sat beside her at the Taj Mahal, she took my picture in Samarkand, I cuddled her in New York too. She let a friend borrow me once but only once we got awfully drunk and I had to be rescued from a police station!

Someone has tried to take me away from her twice – both times she jumped off trains to run after me as someone tried to take me away. I'm quite hard to miss in a crowd. She's awfully affirming of me as a bag, she regulalry tells me how well I'm doing and thanks me when I fit in yet another book, oh yes, the books say hello to you lot too, they're better with words than I am. I'm just a bag, though I'm sure Lizz wouldn't say so. I think of her as a friend.

Most of the time during the week I hang on the back of the living room door. I see her going to work, she takes my cousin a little Berghaus day sac to work most days, but she's not cheating on me, it's ok. Sometimes she takes my other cousin a big 65 litre rucsac with pockets, to places where she has to take lots of materials or stuff. But I know it's me she prefers.

At the moment I'm snuggled up with a thermarest stuffs sac who is my friend, also yellow. And one with a map of the world printed on it, my Lizz is a map lover. Lizz is a bit cold, we're staying in a hotel tonight and it's awfully windy and chilly. I found the silk sleeping bag and the hot water bottle -give hottie a little wave folks she's a red platypus – and Lizz is doing a bit better.

Tomorrow she's giving a talk, and I think I'll probably be the oldest bag in the room. I'll admit I'm a bit proud of that. Sometimes I'm older than some of the people there. That's because Lizz is loyal to good gear (ooh modest). I can't imagine what it'd be like without her- after nearly thirty years we are still going strong.

Absolutely brilliant Lizz :-)

Oooh I thank you, I'll tell her, she'll be so glad she brought me up right.