C.A.M.P lightweight climbing gear

The philosophy of going fast and light through the mountains has been universally embraced by climbers. In lieu of fixed ropes, heavy packs and pound-in anchors, climbers from California to Katmandu now stress speed and agility in the vertical world.

While this trend is nothing new, climbing equipment manufacturers continue to hone the tools of the trade. C.A.M.P. USA (www.camp-usa.com), the domestic division of Italy's Construzione Articoli Montagna Premana, is a company whose gear epitomizes the fast-and-light movement.

Take the XLH 95 harness as example No. 1. This climbing harness is made of thin nylon webbing and mesh, and it weighs a mere 3.3 ounces, making it the lightest harness in the world, according to the company.


XLH 95 harness

The harness is bare bones, no doubt, with little padding, few adjustments, and no belay loop. But it provides a secure tie-in point for a rope, and the harness is certified for safety by the Union Internationale des Association d'Alpinisme (UIAA) and the European Community (CE).

For rock climbing, the XLH 95 harness can be uncomfortable, especially if you're hanging out on a rope for a long time or taking falls. But the company did not design this harness for rocks rats. It is made primarily for mountaineering, where a harness is rarely weighted, and in that situation the XLH 95 is a near-perfect solution.

It costs just $40, too, making the XLH 95 harness a bargain.

Other C.A.M.P. USA products I've tested this summer include the 7.4-ounce XLA 210 ice axe and the 1.7-ounce Base Twist carabiner. The axe, which costs $100 and is built for mountaineering, not ice climbing, is made of a strong and feathery aluminum alloy.

The axe has a toothy pick, an adze and a spike on the bottom of its hollow shaft -- all common mountaineering fare. It comes in three sizes -- 50, 60 and 70 centimeters -- and includes a short nylon leash.

My new carabiner of choice -- the $15 Base Twist -- is the lightest auto-locking 'biner on the market, according to C.A.M.P. USA. It weighs almost nothing and snaps shut fast and secure with a spring-loaded locking mechanism.

Beyond the gear I played with in the mountains this summer, C.A.M.P.
USA's lightweight line also includes products like the XLC crampons
(13 ounces, $120); the X3 600 backpack (21 ounces, $100); and the $70 Carbon Fiber Avy Probe, an amazingly light 7.8-foot avalanche probe that will tip the scale at just 4.3 ounces when it debuts in 2007.

In the end, this kind of lightweight gear will not be the hardest wearing equipment in your closet. Comfort may be sacrificed, too. But for climbers who bank on speed and constant movement in the high alpine world these are sacrifices easily made.

Summer 2006 Gear Smack Down

The summer of 2006 has proven already to be an epic one for the Gear Junkie here. In addition to the Primal Quest race -- a nine-day event held last month in the Utah desert -- I've managed to climb a mountain in Vail, raft class IV whitewater, bike the 100-mile Maah Daah Hey Trail in North Dakota, sail overnight on the giant reservoir of Lake Sakakawea, and participate in my usual training and tomfoolery at home.

All fun aside, the intensity of the last two months has allowed me to squeeze in the equivalent of an entire season's worth of use and abuse upon several key outdoors products. Indeed, a few items that were shiny and new in June had been killed off by end of July, dead and literally discarded in the trash.

As an example: Somewhere in a garbage dump near Moab, Utah, future archeologists might dig up my Outdoor Research Sun Runner Cap and the frail rag that was my Rail Riders Eco-Mesh shirt. Both items were summarily disposed of in a hotel room near the Colorado River on July 3, 2006, the day my team finished the Primal Quest race.

To be sure, these products served me quite well, and I wore them most of the nine days I was racing in the desert. Materially, they were mostly intact. However, the stench both items retained after soaking up my sweat for a week was unbearable, and in the end it was a death sentence for two pieces of quality gear.

My bike -- the $2,300 Dakar XC Expert made by Jamis Bicycles -- has taken a severe beating this summer, sucking up more than 500 miles of singletrack, including trails as tough as Moab's Poison Spider Mesa and the aforementioned Maah Daah Hey, a relentlessly hilly route through the Badlands of North Dakota.

Major bike issues have included: a bolt on the Dakar XC's rear disc brake that rattled free and was lost forever in the Utah sand, prompting some ad hoc mechanic work with zip-ties and a spare derailleur cable; a rear tire blow-out, which occurred simultaneously in two places on the sidewall after about 450 miles of wear; and a bent disc on the rear wheel -- likely the result of one of my numerous crashes.

Footwear proved to be troublesome for me this summer. The Montrail Continental Divide shoes I'd planned to wear during the Primal Quest were a terrible choice for the Utah desert, as sand and grit seeped in through the mesh sidewalls, causing large blisters on day one of the race.

Luckily, a teammate had an extra pair of shoes -- Hi-Tec's V-Lite Hurricane -- for me to borrow. The waterproof shoes, which employ breathable Event fabric, did their job keeping the grit out. However, by the end of the race something was disturbingly amiss with the Hi-Tec hikers: large parts of the raised and knobby Vibram outsole were sheering clean off, strands of black rubber tread flapping like lamprey underfoot.

Though I'd worn them occasionally for a couple months prior to the race, SmartWool's $40 Boxer Briefs -- underpants made for warm-weather aerobic activity -- were DOA after the Primal Quest. The thin wool fabric, which breathes exceptionally well, stays dry and non-clammy for several days straight. (Yes, I unfortunately know this from experience.) But after an exorbitant amount of abuse the fabric simply wore out and ripped in that high-wear area between the legs.

Finally, Topeak's MTX BeamRack paired with the MTX TrunkBag EXP worked well for storing 10 or more pounds of food, water and equipment on my bike. For the most part, this equipment survived the summer. However, the bungee cord on the rack did come off quite un-serendipitously one day, flinging into my bike's rear gear cassette and twisting itself tightly in as the wheel ground to a halt. The same thing happened without warning to one of my teammates, prompting me to contact the company with a design-change suggestion -- the first of several similar missives I was moved to put out last month.

Quechua 2 - Second Tent

Last week I reviewed three high-end tents made for minimalist hikers who need to go fast and light through the wilds. This week's featured shelter, an 8-pound igloo of fabric called the Quechua 2-Second Tent, is a flip opposite design, both in form and function.

But the Quechua 2-Second Tent -- which with "one swift toss," as company literature suggests, unfolds in midair to set itself up -- is an undeniably cool creation.

To boot, the tent, which is made by Decathlon USA (www.decathlontent.com), costs a mere $69.


Decathlon 2-Second Tent

As you may have guessed, the tent's "2-second" namesake is derived from the time it takes to set up the shelter. I will admit to being a skeptic on this proclamation. But in my tests, the tent, which comes packed in a circular fabric container with backpack straps, did in fact spring to life with a simple toss into the air.

Indeed, before the tent even hit the ground, its structure, fashioned by bond hoops of fiberglass, sprung to life, pulling the fabric out and into place. It landed set up and complete, its face fabric taught, its door zipped shut and ready to keep the bugs at bay.

I did have to stake it down, however, which took a whole 20 seconds or so.

Measuring about 8 x 5 feet with a 3-foot-high ceiling, the tent is designed for two people. It was roomy enough in length and width for my wife and I plus our 18-month-old girl, though I could not sit straight inside without my head pressing into the fabric above.

The tent's double-wall design, which incorporates a polyester shell fabric coated with polyurethane, promotes some ventilation. However, during my tests on a hot night in July the Quechua 2-Second was a bit clammy.

One other design complaint: When the door is open, rain falls right inside the tent, as there is no canopy and the oval-shape entryway is tilted back a few degrees from vertical.

Otherwise, rain was not an issue with this tent. I put it through a thunderstorm and then left it alone all day long as the skies drizzled away, but not a drop got in.

My biggest problem with the Quechua 2-Second Tent came when it was time to pack up. Despite explicit instructions, getting the tent back in its small circular bag -- a contortionist's feat that involves twisting and spinning highly tensioned fiberglass hoops -- was a real challenge.

But after a few tries, I became competent putting the tent away in its bag, the process a sleight-of-hand parlor trick of sorts that I now rather enjoy.

Overall, the Quechua 2-Second tent comes highly recommended, especially for car campers tired of dealing with poles and stakes and tie-downs. Its design is not without flaw, but for most campers my quibbles will ring irrelevant.

And at only $69 (did I mention that?) the tent is a true bargain.

Minimalist Tents

Newtonian physics and fussy things like the inherent weight of matter may one day stymie the progress of lightweight tent design. But until then, a handful of companies will pursue the Holy Grail of creating a shelter so feathery and ephemeral as to be perfectly unnoticeable in a backpack.

Mandatory Gear (www.mandatorygear.com), a small outfit based in Minneapolis, is a leader in the field of lightweight tent design. Indeed, the company touts its Puppy Pile tent -- yes, that is the real name -- as the lightest freestanding, four-season, four-person model on the market.

Weighing just 1 pound 9 ounces (including poles!), the Puppy Pile is extraordinarily feathery. But the tent, which was designed for the sport of adventure racing where a shelter is used only in emergencies, is cramped and virtually featureless.


The Puppy Pile

At $499, the Puppy Pile is made of a single ply of silicone-impregnated nylon. It incorporates a simple and straightforward design with a pair of crisscrossed carbon poles threaded through rooftop fabric loops to provide structure. Its cozy dimensions -- 88 x 60 inches with a 33-inch-high ceiling -- will fit four grown humans, though not without some requisite spooning and cuddling.

The Puppy Pile, an undeniably cool creation, is best reserved for emergency trail use, not workaday camping. It will keep the weather out, but it does not breathe like a regular tent, and in-tent real estate, as noted, is a precious commodity.

Like the Puppy Pile, the 2-pound, 11-ounce Hypno PQ from Nemo Equipment Inc. (www.nemoequipment.com) was originally made for the sport of adventure racing, though fast-and-light backpackers and mountaineers will appreciate its minimalist design as well. The tent is free-standing but does not require poles. Instead, the company's Airbeam technology -- essentially an inflatable tube that arches over the tent body -- provides support and rigidity.

Made of silicone-impregnated nylon, and measuring 84 x 53 inches with a 36-inch-high ceiling, the $395 tent provides tight quarters for four people or an adequately comfortable space for two.

Nemo includes an integrated pump to inflate the Airbeam and erect the tent in just a minute or two, making it the quickest and easiest of all models to set up. The Hypno PQ is a bare-bones shelter, with a single ply of exterior fabric and one door. Like the Puppy Pile, the Hypno PQ has only mediocre ventilation and few creature comforts.

Big Sky International's Evolution 2P was the most comfortable of the featherweights I tested this summer. It has a 42-inch-high ceiling, two large vestibules, pockets for gear inside, and a design that incorporates a mesh body with a silicone-impregnated nylon rainfly to maximize ventilation.

All this and the tent, which has an 84 x 56-inch floor plan, still manages to hover around 3 pounds.

The downside to the Evolution 2P is its cumbersome setup. It took me more than five minutes to erect the tent after taking it out of the bag for the first time. It's also a few ounces heavier than the competition.

Pricing for the Big Sky International (www.bigskyinternational.com) tent with aluminum poles starts at $260, making it a bargain compared to Mandatory Gear or Nemo. The carbon poles, which keep the Evolution 2P's weight down to a specified 3 pounds, 2 ounces, cost an extra $85 but will be worth it to obsessive ounce counters like me.