On Gear   Our gear is up-to-date but not fancy, and it performed well enough with only a few exceptions. Here are our complaints, kudos and advice. (In no particular order...) Map: The 1:50,000 scale Gros Morne map (12 H/12) is available in paper or Tyvek, the fibrous plastic material used as a weather barrier in home construction. The Tyvek is a bit more expensive but worth twice the price of paper. You could easily shred a wet paper map stumbling through highland fog and tuckamore. These weather conditions make you feel more like a tiny blip on the map than a body on the land, so a scratch along your route can feel like a napalm strafing. Get Tyvek. No runs, no drips, no errors. Maps are available from the Canada Map Office, 130 Bentley Ave., Nepean, Ontario K2E 6T9. Telephone: 1-800-465-6277. Fax: 1-800-661-6277. Visa and Mastercard accepted. We received our map in Portland, Maine in about a week. Tent: We've always liked our Mountain HardWear Light Wedge 2 for its ease of use. It has never outright disappointed us, but its "three-season" frame failed to protect us from wind-driven rain. The Long Range's pond-side campsites are exposed to wind, and with precipitation more likely than not (200 days per year), it's probable a trekker will face some wind-driven rain. Our tent was pounded broadside by an overnight storm and leaked when the tent fabric wicked moisture through the fly. The vestibule also completely failed to keep our gear dry, perhaps due to the zippers and seams of the undulating fly. We could have (should have) prevented some of the wetness by pointing our tent into the wind, but on the whole it seemed lightweight in the heavy weather. Packs: Bogart was extremely pleased with his Jack Wolfskin Trailhead II, which made its maiden voyage here. The suspension and ventilation are exceptional. The rear hatch pocket is perfect for muddy sandals or the on-again-off-again shell, and it gapes generously for access to the lower half through a center-zippered mesh door. The dual daisy chains are nice, and two velcro straps were perfect for airing out wet socks. Side pockets and straps carried tent poles worry-free. The lid is a great pack-scruncher and allowed Bogart to bend high weight (like the water bladder) over his shoulders for better balance and distribution of the load over his upper back. The overall volume is expedition-quantity, though it's not a house-on-your-back either. Ava's older Osprey Isis was passable, but hardly praiseworthy. An unusual hoop of external framing eases even loading, but overall poor suspension make this pack a thumbs down. A ridiculous "head room" design has the upper ends of the frame bars angling back from the neck area, shifting high weight and the lid itself behind the center of gravity. The pack's unbalanced feeling is only aggravated by tightening the attic straps, which causes the absurdly tall frame bars to crush shoulder blades. Shells: Bogart's North Face HyVent shell was advertised as waterproof. In fact, it is only a windbreaker. What can one expect from an overstock marked down to 90 bucks? It is a decent enough shell except for soaking up rain. The hood scruncher is poor, but it is otherwise well made. Well made of plain old nylon, that is. Ava's Marmot shell performed somewhat better in rain, but alas it seems that only Gore-Tex is Gore-Tex. Caveat Emptor! Sleeping Bags: We're convinced now that a down bag is a ticking time bomb. (When wet, it's worthless). Ava's zero-degree North Face synthetic bag is approximately as stuffable as a block of granite (and somewhat comparable in weight) but it was still less trouble than spiriting a dainty luxury bag through a wet wilderness. It's like counting on Martha Stewart to be your last line of defense against hypothermia and death. Sleeping Pads: The ThermaRest UltraLight 3/4 is Bogart's pad of choice. Unfortunately, a hard-to-find slow leak made it pretty much worthless from Day 1 of this trip. We resisted dunking the whole thing underwater, partly out of laziness, partly out of poor drying conditions and partly out of doubt that I could fix a leak even if I found it. Adding a tiny tube of rubber cement and a tiny patch (which can be cut off the corner of the pad itself) to the sundries kit would have been worth it. Stove: Our Coleman Peak 1 dual-fuel stove with built-in tank is dependable and easy to use. It is also heavy, especially when you consider the gas necessary to boil water twice a day for five days. We've always opted for unleaded gasoline for the stove (rather than white gas) so we're not sure how much more efficiently the stove could burn. But a side-by-side comparison with a butane/propane stove made ours seem as outdated as a cast iron cookset. Our friends from Calgary boiled their dinner water in about three minutes using a pint-sized fuel supply that had lasted ten days already and still seemed mostly full. The burner screws on to a valve on the tank, as with other larger propane stoves, and the flame was bright blue from the first second. Our Coleman puffs yellow on medium settings and blackens pans. The only disadvantage to the propane/butane fuel is that it is harder to find in remote areas (such as Rocky Harbour, Newfoundland), a killer if you're flying and need to defuel before the trip. Cookset: Teflon. Amen. Water Filter: Our Pur Hiker is still the best we've ever used. It has never complained and neither have we. Boots: Bogart's seven-year-old Merrills are just reaching their prime. The outsoles had to be glued back into place last year (too close to the fire?) and the second pair of laces are about to go, but they are otherwise intact. Ava's boots were not fully worn in and gave her blisters on the heel. Gaiters: We didn't bring any but should have. The lower leg mud stains might never come out of our shell pants. Camp Chairs: ThermaRester camp chairs seem unreasonably expensive (35 dollars). But in our book they qualify as necessities. Because they employ our sleeping pads for padding and structure, the chairs themselves pack small and light. When in use, our butts are dry and backs happy. This is a major physical and psychological triumph in the Long Range, where established cooking spots are wet or stony patches of ground. Water Containers: The combination of a 70 oz. Camelbak bladder-and-tube with a quart Nalgene bottle worked well for us. The bladder was convenient for a hike-and-sip pace while the Nalgene stepped up for camp use and measurement duties. Digital Camera: Our Canon PowerShot G1 performed brilliantly. The snap-shot sized unit fit easily in Ava's lid. On medium settings for both image size and data compression, the camera's standard 16 MB Compact Flash card held 45 images, which was more than enough. Manual exposure adjustments were easy and the zoom sufficient. Just don't try to read the Owner's Manual. Binoculars: Another Canon product, our waterproof 8x32 binoculars provided occasional amusement but proved less than useful, even in this open country. We kept our eyes on the far slopes much of the time but still spotted all our game on the trail itself. On Day 4 we were able to pick out a hiker on Gros Morne about 6 km away. Next time, we'll trade the binoculars for the extra weight of a better tent. Other: We found combining a wool sweater with a down vest provided ample insulation at camp. Something about the heft of wool is just plain comforting, even if it is just plain heavy. Our down vests doubled as overnight core warmers. (Just hug it like a teddy bear). Three pairs of socks were just enough. Nylon shorts were saviors on sunny days, along with tee shirts that are likely to stick with us for years as our last vestiges of cotton. A pair of wool hats are still the bast heat for the heft. Sandals were a joy as camp wear, but left us tip-toeing around our spongy campsites. Fleece gloves arguably saved us the use of our hands on the rainy, foggy final day. Waterproof pack covers might have saved us pounds of rain, though garbage bags were enough to keep our packed clothes dry. A paperback book might have helped to convince us to stay put in the fog. Maybe next time. Comment on this page Is the Marmot waterproof? posted Tue Oct 7 10:48:13 2003 by Bogart Salzberg from Portland, Maine, USA Ava now swears her Marmot jacket is waterproof. After a recent hike through a downpour, and subsequent inspection of the jacket lining, I believe her. travel light posted Wed Aug 4 14:28:50 2004 by Hugo from Quebec city I suggest to bring more light stuff in the same line as your light wedge 2 (5lbs10oz) Like: LPG stove silnylon tarp( let your stuff driying while you sleep) thong footwear Pristine and msr coffee filter (instead of pur hiker) 1 1.5 litre pot if you are affraid of condensation with your bag take a less warm with dryloft over bag. treat well your boots and bring 2 pairs with 1 liner always brings gaiters Web Design by InkFist.Com © 2003.