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I’ve decided that I don’t like pulling individual tweets into the blog as uniquely styled posts. For now, that behavior has been disabled. I’ve moved to a single weekly aggregate post including all the previous week’s tweets. We’ll see how that goes.
Since individual tweets are no longer being pulled in, I’ve put a list of the most recent tweets down in the footer. Next to that you’ll also find a new list of the week’s most popular posts. Fancy!
The Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness in the Umatilla National Forest is a remote section of the Blue Mountains located in southeastern Washington and northeastern Oregon. This past week I did a loop of about 60 miles in the Wilderness.
I arrived at the Panjab trailhead in the Tucannon canyon at around 3PM on Saturday. The plan for the day was to take a short walk and spend the night at Dunlap Spring, a distance of about 6 miles. The Panjab trail proved uneventful, with no interesting sightings. I reached the meadow above the spring at 6PM and was happy to see it free of snow. The meadow sits at 5,700 feet (around 2,500 feet higher than the trailhead) which was not the highest elevation I would be reaching during the loop, but close. It seemed a safe bet that I wouldn’t be post holing the whole trip, which is always good news.
As I walked down the meadow toward the spring, I ran into my first local. A black bear with a nice brown coat was having his supper about a hundred feet away. He had his butt toward me and his head down. I yelled a greeting. He didn’t budge. Not exactly the response I was hoping for. I yelled a bit more and he looked around but was either blind or uninterested in the biped waving frantically at him. After a minute, though, the wind shifted direction and brought my scent to him. He turned his head to look right at me, then ran off into the trees. Thanking him, I went on my way.
I found the spring without any trouble and filled up my water bladder. After pitching my tarp in a nice spot in the trees a little ways away, I started to think about dinner. The sky was clear that evening and there was a spot up on the meadow that would provide a nice seat to watch the sun as it set into the West. I grabbed my food, stove, and water and headed on up. Along the way I grabbed a few small sticks and twigs to fuel the stove. After dinner and the show I headed back down into the trees and climbed into bed at 9:30PM.
Sunday morning I awoke to a light sprinkle. No matter. I thought it’d be good to get a few miles under my belt before breakfast. I got out of bed and topped off my water at the spring. Just as I was about to start breaking down my small camp, the rain really started coming down. Maybe breakfast later on down the trail wasn’t such a good idea. It seemed like a better option to crawl back under the tarp and do a little breakfast from bed.
That proved a good choice. Just as I was finishing my noodles the rain stopped. I took advantage of the lull to quickly break camp and get on my way. Most of the day’s walk was along high meadows that should have provided good views to either side, but everything was covered in cloud and I was unable to see more than a hundred feet or so in any direction for all the mist.
Occasional small breaks in the cloud provided a hint of the country I was traveling through and I did manage to spot a herd of seven elk having breakfast further down the meadow.
The trail was gaining elevation and started to enter a few trees. Snow covered the ground. It was only a few inches deep and pretty crusty so I didn’t sink in, but it obscured the trail. I was looking around trying to decide where the trail might have gone when I spotted a pair of really big bear tracks. “Aha,” I thought. “Those are heading in the right direction. I’ll follow them.” The tracks led on through the trees and I followed (hoping not to meet the fellow who left the tracks). Eventually the tracks led out of the trees and deposited me on the trail at exactly where I wanted to be: the aptly named Bear Wallow Spring.
From then on whenever I lost the trail in the snow I would just follow the tracks of bear or elk. They always seem to know where they’re going and tend to take the most efficient route to get there.
The trail continued east along the ridge, with a steep drop-off on the south side. At its highest point it got to around 6,200 feet, but there still was no more than a few inches of snow. The trail passed Squaw Spring, which was a disgusting mess of a hunter’s camp, and Sheephead Spring before finally reaching the high point at Diamond Spring. From that point my route turned south as I began a long, slow descent down into the canyon toward Oregon. I had been in fog all day and just as I started to descend the canyon I heard thunder off in the west. Whoops! That high open ridge was about the last place I wanted to be. I picked up the pace a bit and started to loose elevation. Safely back in the trees I spooked another elk, grazing all by his lonesome.
As I slowly (very slowly) lost elevation I began to get underneath the clouds and started to see a bit more of the country. Lots of canyons all around, and somewhere down there to the south the Wenaha River. Oregon Trail country. (Briefly, I relived childhood fears of dying of dysentery.)
At one point I misplaced my foot and starting to slide down the slope to my right. Throwing out my left hand I was able to stop myself but scraped up the palm of my hand in the process. Right where I fell was a patch of yarrow, which I grabbed and put on my palm as a poultice. After walking for another half hour or so I found a good spot to stop and properly clean and bandage the wound.
Continuing on, the trail finally finished its descent into the canyon and met up with Melton Creek. At 7PM I stopped to cook up dinner. The local ants were apparently of the mind that my meal was lacking in protein: a few of them crawled into the pot and ended up in my tummy. As I was eating dinner I spotted movement on the opposite side of the canyon. At first I thought it was an elk, but it turned out to be another black bear, this time with a light brown coat of fur around the body and dark fur around the neck and head. Just like an elk! Neat.
Another few miles down the trail and I finally arrived at the confluence of Melton Creek and Crooked Creek, where I intended to camp. After filling up my water supply and cleaning the pot from dinner, I pitched my tarp and crawled right in. It was a little after 9PM. I had walked around 17 miles that day.
Monday morning it was raining. It was to be a short day – I had only about 7 miles to go – so I decided I would wait it out. The rain fell for a good while as I killed time in the tarp.
Finally it stopped and I got out of bed, hitting the trail near 11AM. Just a few steps down the trail I had my first water crossing of the trip. I had to get to the other side of Melton Creek just north of where it joins with Crooked Creek. The water was cold, but only about knee deep. Another mile down the trail was another crossing, so I just left my sandals on and my shoes hanging around my neck.
When I got to it, First Creek proved to be a bit deeper and very fast moving. Had I slipped and fallen in Melton Creek I would have been cold and wet and might have come out with a bruised bum or stubbed toe, but it looked like if I was to fall here in First Creek I could actually get swept down it a ways.
The creek was waist deep. I made it across with no more trouble than frozen privates – which was trouble enough – but the creek also proved to be the boundary between winter and summer. Just as I got to the other side the sun popped out and the temperatures were soon in the mid-70F degrees. A bit downstream from the crossing was an old cabin and horse corral. I headed over there to cook up a brunch and dry out in the sun.
Back on the trail, the bush got really thick as I headed south down the side of Crooked Creek. I might as well have been bushwhacking, but the sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky so it didn’t much matter. A mile or so down the “trail” I ran into a mule train. They had just packed in an SCA crew down at the Oregon border who would be spending the summer working on this trail. Good luck! In a couple weeks it’ll be getting way to hot for me down in that canyon, but I’m glad that somebody will be working the trail. The guy at the head of the mule train seemed impressed when I told him my route – more so because I was solo. “That’s quite a walk!” he said. Before I had gotten on the trail, I was in the town of Pomeroy where I ran into a couple locals. They described the Wilderness as “bumfuck nowhere” and tried to discourage me from going in by myself. Apparently people who live in the region don’t venture into the Wenaha-Tucannon very often. Seems strange to me.
Soon after passing the mules I reached the Oregon border. Just off in the trees I found the trail crew having lunch. I headed over to say hello and swap stories about the SCA. Since this was their very first day, they were all still looking pretty neat and clean. One of the girls even had makeup on! I imagine they’ll look a bit different come August. Anyway, I wished them good luck and continued on my way, soon reaching the point where Melton Creek drains into the Wenaha River. Here, my route turned west and headed upstream along the river.
The Wenaha River and its canyon really are beautiful. It’s not the sort of area I associate with the Northwest, instead seeming like it belongs somewhere in Montana. At this point the day had warmed up till it was somewhere around 80F which seemed to please the two rattlesnakes I found hanging out in the middle of the trail.
I reached Fairview Bar just after 5PM and, after dropping my pack, stripped down and jumped in the river. It wasn’t any warmer than the ball-freezing First Creek, but was refreshing after the hot hike. After getting out of the Wenaha I threw up the tarp and collected water while drying off in the sun. I dressed as the sun began to sink below the canyon wall. Then, laying my pad out on the ground, I had a good sit. It lasted about 3 hours. During that time I cooked up dinner and paid a little attention to my feet, which were hurting due to the new footwear I was trying out.
While I was digging in my food bag for dinner I came across the chocolate bar I packed. I always like to pack a bar of chocolate in the cooler months when it won’t melt. Emergency Chocolate, I call it. Not only is it tasty and mentally comforting, but it provides a great energy boost and can be helpful in warding off hypothermia. When I pulled it out of the bag it was still firm, but I said to myself “Self, look at this here chocolate bar. With warm temperatures like today, it’s going to melt in no time! We better eat it before that happens.” To which I replied “I like the way you think, Self” and proceeded to eat the whole thing.
The next day I woke determined not to lounge around in bed that morning, but to get an early start on the day. I had a long and steep climb north out of the canyon ahead of me and wanted to get most of it done before the sun started beating down. Quickly breaking camp, I threw on my pack and started heading uphill just past 6AM. Sunrise in the Wenaha is a wonderful time. Undoubtedly, that leg of the trip had the best scenery.
Around 7:30AM I reached the trees and stopped to cook breakfast at the base of an old pine. I spotted two ospreys flying over head.
After that, my hike was through forest. Soon I was back in Washington. I lost the trail a couple times and stumbled upon another hunting camp, but found my way up out of the trees without much trouble.
There are some great grassy ridges up there around Moore Flat and Smooth Ridge that demand one to at least have a sit on them, if not take a nap. I did a bit of both.
Soon I reached the top of Weller Butte and the highest point of elevation for the day. Lodgepole Spring, where I planned to spend the night, was just another few miles north of that.
Lodgepole Spring was a bit disappointing when I got there. It was fairly muddy and finding a good spot to put the tarp was difficult. Despite the day’s perfect weather, some clouds had started to move in and it was looking like rain. Eventually I found a spot a bit above the spring that was sort of flat and had a few trees around it to help protect from any wind. Most of an Elk skeleton lay beside it.
The wind did pick up and got pretty strong that night. I was cozy inside my tarp, but I had pitched the front left side a little sloppily which meant that it was making a lot of noise as the slack got blown back and forth in the wind. It woke me a couple times, but I was too comfy inside my bag to get up and do anything about it.
The next morning was rainy and windy. Still, I didn’t want to hang out in the tarp all morning. I broke camp, filled up on water at the spring, and headed on my way. Around 10AM the sky cleared up and the sun came out for another fine summer day.
As I headed north, I was gaining elevation. I went along the narrow ridge along Danger Point and a bit further on reached Oregon Butte – at 6387 feet, the highest point in the Wilderness area. Just north of Oregon Butte I reentered the snow and lost the trail. There was a confusing intersection with three or four trails heading off in different directions at that point and I wanted to make sure I got on the right one. I spent 20 minutes looking around for the correct trail – or even an area where the trail might be likely to go – but couldn’t find anything. Finally I gave up and just started heading cross country via map and compass along the route that the trail should have gone. About a mile further I had lost enough elevation for the snow to disappear and I found the trail again. I was only off by about 10 feet in my route calculations.
Just after noon the sky started to fill up with clouds again and darken. “More rain!” I thought. Then I heard a rumble. And another. And another. The storm was just northwest of me and heading in my direction. Once again I was up on top of an exposed ridge, the highest thing all around. I dropped off the trail and heading down to the tree line. Picking up my pace a bit, I paralleled the trail and kept my eyes open to see what would happen. I hadn’t seen any lightning yet, but the thunder was getting nasty.
Originally my plan had been to spend the night at Dunlap Spring again and then head out back to the trailhead the next morning. If the storm kept up though, I didn’t want to spend the night that high. I reached the meadow above the spring at 3PM. Just as I came out of the trees it started to hail. The thunder sounded like it was right on top of me at this point and I saw a flash or two of lightning. I decided I needed to get down. I started to half walk, half run toward the Panjab Trail that heads down into the trees toward the trailhead. Just before I reached the meadow I encountered another bear. This one was about 50 feet away, oblivious to my presence. I yelled at him. He didn’t budge. I was anxious to get down, but this guy was standing right where I wanted to go. Yelling at him again, he looked up at me and shook his coat, throwing water all over. “Yeah,” I yelled “it sure is wet up here, isn’t it? I bet it would be nice and dry in those trees down there! Wink wink nudge nudge.” Apparently bears don’t understand winks because he didn’t take my hints. He just kept doing what he was doing. More yelling and waving my arms around finally got him to look at me again. He cocked his head as if to express his displeasure at this disruption of his schedule and slowly turned around and waddled off into the trees.
I reached the trees myself soon thereafter. Just as I left the meadow the hail stopped and the storm passed on further east. The clouds hung around and only allowed a few sun breaks the rest of the afternoon, but I was able to dry out. I continued down the trail to just a bit northeast of the trailhead and found a good spot to camp for the night. That evening the sky cleared and I was allowed a view of the awe-some golden sunset in the Tucannon Canyon.
Beyond a critical point within a finite space, freedom diminishes as numbers increase. This is as true of humans in the finite space of a planetary ecosystem as it is of gas molecules in a sealed flask. The human question is now how many can possibly survive within the system, but what kind of existence is possible for those who do survive. - Frank Herbert, Dune
About 3 years ago I bought a Celestial Jacket from Outdoor Research. It’s a very lightweight hardshell made out a 15 denier Gore-Tex Paclite material. When I first got it, I was surprised at how thin it was – paper thin – and had many doubts about the jacket’s durability. But I found myself pleasantly surprised: in the 3 years that I’ve had it, the jacket sustained only one small rip in the lower back area. This was easily patched.
About a month ago, the jacket failed at another point. The hood has an adjustable shock cord going through it behind the brim that helps to frame the face. This channel that the shock cord goes through (made of a lightweight nylon material, not Paclite) ripped out. I had heard of OR’s Infinite Guarantee, which claims that any product can be returned or exchanged “forever”, but had never before used it. I figured there would probably be some sort of catch or fine print, but thought it worth the try.
So today I went into the Outdoor Research Retail Store to see what would happen. I showed them the failure in the jacket and asked if it could be repaired. No, they said, they didn’t think that part of the hood could be fixed and they didn’t make that same jacket anymore, but they could give me credit for it or I could choose to trade it for any jacket in the store. Well then. That was easy.
I spent about an hour going through all of their hardshells. They didn’t have anything equivalent to the 10oz weight of the Celestial Jacket. Their Helium Jacket was even lighter at 6.8oz, but the hood wasn’t very adjustable and the jacket lacked pit zips. Most of the other jackets were ruled out because of being too heavy and not breathable enough. Eventually it came down to the Revel Jacket and the Foray. At 13.7oz the Revel is the lighter of the two but it’s made out of Pertex Shield which I have no experience with. The Foray was heavier at 15.7oz but made out of the same Gore-Tex Paclite as my old jacket – though the Foray uses 40 denier material, so is a good deal thicker and more durable than the old Celestial. I was having trouble deciding if I wanted to get the lighter jacket and risk trying the Pertex material or if I should stick with tried and true Gore-Tex. I already have a Marmot Precip jacket, which at 11.6oz fills the lightweight niche nicely, so I eventually decided to get the slightly beefier Foray jacket.
The guy who was helping me cut off the tag, handed me the new jacket, and I was out the door. In my book that’s a free $200 jacket. It’s refreshing to find a company that stands behind their products 100%. No partial refunds, or limited warranties, or memberships required. After today’s experience, I will certainly be doing more business with Outdoor Research in the future.
And now I find that the Foray Jacket actually weights 13.9oz on my scale. An even better deal!
When I purchased my Trail Designs Ti-Tri Titanium Stove System, I bought it with a 900mL pot from Titanium Goat. I like the pot, but it has one shortcoming: there are no measuring marks on it. I’m not comfortable just pouring a little water into a pot and saying “Well, that looks like 2 cups.” I prefer a slightly higher level of accuracy.
Originally I addressed this by scoring the handle of my spork to mark 1, 2, and 3 cups measured in the pot – an idea which I think originally came to me from somewhere on the BackpackingLight Forums. This method works ok – though making the marks deep enough to be visible on the titanium was a bit tough with my knife – but I’ve never felt that it is very accurate. It will tell me if I have roughly 1 cup of water in the pot, but I could really be anywhere between 3/4 of a cup to 1 1/4 cups. That’s the difference between nice, fluffy couscous and overly soggy (or dry and undercooked) couscous, you know.
As a more accurate replacement, I came up with the idea for the Water Measuring Doohicky: a piece of paper with marks on it. Ingenious, isn’t it?
For the paper, I chose a cut a piece out of a page in one of my Rite in the Rain notebooks. Then I put 1/2 cup of water into the pot, set in the paper, noted the water line, took out the paper and marked the water line. This was repeated at 1/2 cup increments up to 3 cups. (The pot holds 4 cups when filled to the rim, so 3 cups is the most I would ever want to cook with.) After I had all the marks determined, I cut an identical piece of paper and put marks at the same levels. Then I tossed the soggy paper and was left with a fresh, dry piece of waterproof paper with the appropriate marks.
As a poor-man’s lamination, I wrapped it with clear packing tape. Even though the Rite in the Rain paper is waterproof, it gets a little soggy when submerged and takes a while to dry out. Water doesn’t cling to the tape at all. I can give it a shake or two after taking it out of the pot and it is immediately dry. The tape also adds a little stiffness, which helps achieve more accurate measurements.
I made two of these doohickeys at the same time, but have been using only one since last Fall. It works great. I am somewhat embarrassed it took me almost a year to come up with the idea. Even though I only made marks at 1/2 cup increments, the grid on the paper allows me to easily measure with 1/4 cup accuracy. As opposed to the marks on the spork, this paper is one extra thing to carry, but when placed on my scale it doesn’t register. I don’t think it weighs me down any.
I had done the lamination before I thought of this, but next time around I think I will write common cooking ratios on the back: water to couscous, water to dehydrated brown rice, etc. Usually I write those ratios on the ziploc freezer bags that hold my food, but the bags get replaced and rotated fairly frequently. The Water Measuring Doohickey has proved that it will last for a longer period of time.
Here’s an idea I stole from the excellent BFE Labs: hacking a Rite in the Rain notebook to include a retention strap. The original idea at BFE was just a strap to keep the notebook closed and contain loose leafs that were shoved inside, but while making the strap he accidentally cut the webbing too short. To solve this he sewed on another piece of webbing as an extension and found that the overlap between the two pieces made a good pen holder.
I thought this was a neat idea, but the tri-glide fastener used in BFE’s version seemed a little cumbersome. I knew I would want some sort of quick release buckle. A traditional side release buckle would be too bulky for my tastes, particularly when the notebook is shoved in a pocket. The other thought I had was that using elastic webbing for the pen loop might increase the versatility of the strap, since it could expand to fit different sized tools.
I didn’t have any 1” elastic webbing hanging about, but I did have some spare webbing and an old buckle from a previous project. With those two things along with a knife and my repair kit, I set out to see what I could do about whipping up some kind of strap.
My initial intention was to create the pen loop the same way as the BFE strap: cut one strap short and sew on an extension piece with a bit of an overlap. But before I got to that part, I had to sew one end of the buckle onto the webbing. In preparing to do this, I realized that I would already be sewing a loop right there. I could just pull a bit more webbing through the buckle to create my overlap, throw in a stitch to hold down the end of the webbing, another stitch closer to the buckle, and between the two I would have the perfect loop for my pen. Simple.
On the back of the notebook I created two slits for the webbing to pass in and out of, just like in the BFE hack (except I used my knife rather than a Dremel tool).
I’m happy with how this hack came out and will probably perform it on my other Rite in the Rain notebooks. The whole process takes only a few minutes and does not strain my juvenile sewing skills. My one complaint is with the buckle that I happened to choose. I appreciate the low profile, center-release design, but the male end of it doesn’t grip the webbing very well. This means that while it is adjustable, it doesn’t hold much tension, and so the buckle doesn’t snap open as much as it should when I release it. I’m thinking of sewing the webbing down on the male end of the buckle just like I did on the female end. The strap would no longer be adjustable, but I could be guaranteed the proper tension and that the buckle would open with the speed and ease which I desire. This would also present the opportunity for me to create another loop to hold a second tool. Perhaps a pencil or a highlighter to go along with the pen.
I bought one of the newer 27oz wide mouth Klean Kanteens back in March. My favorite bottle is still the old 40oz Klean Kanteen that I keep in my EDC bag, but I’ve been wanting something a bit skinnier that could fit in the bottle cage on my bike. I also was looking for an excuse to try out one of the newfangled wide mouth Klean Kanteens. I prefer a wide mouth opening on my bottles, but my 40oz Klean Kanteen (despite being beat on fairly heavily for the past few years) is in too good a shape to justify replacing it with a 40oz wide mouth. A new 27oz wide mouth bottle that would fit on my bike (not to mention in most car cup holders) and so supplement the 40oz bottle was easier to talk myself into!
To go along with the wide mouth bottle, I also purchased a humangear capCAP. This product of questionable capitalization addresses the same problem as Guyot Design’s Splashguard: how to drink from a wide mouth bottle while moving without ending up with half the bottle’s contents on your face and the other half up your nose. The capCAP allows the user to take advantage of the wide mouth for filling and cleaning (as well as water filter integration), but also provides a smaller opening for drinking.
The wider cap has indentations on it making it easy to grab and turn. The smaller cap, in addition to the indentations of the larger cap, is made of rubber, which makes for an easy grip while wearing gloves. The rubber has a tendency to pick up small amounts of dirt and sand, but so far I have not found this to be an annoyance.
My habit in unscrewing bottle lids is to hold the body of the bottle in my left hand and unscrew the lid with my right. The problem with doing this with the capCAP is that attempting to unscrew the small lid tends to start to loosen the larger lid as well. All that’s needed to rectify this is to hold the larger cap in my left hand rather than the body of the bottle itself. This forces a change of habit, which took me a couple weeks to get used to, but I now grab the larger cap with my left hand while unscrewing the smaller cap without thinking. I haven’t had a problem with it since.
When using the capCAP with my wide mouth Klean Kanteen, I find that it does leak slightly. If the bottle lays down on its side for a bit, a couple drops of water will escape from underneath the larger cap. The threads on the bottle’s lip must not match up perfectly with those on the capCAP. If the bottle was to be thrown loosely into the body of the pack where it could shift around and potentially get a drop or two on some form of paper, I would opt for the more secure closure of the standard Klean Kanteen lid. But when the bottle is in the cage on my bike or stored upright in a pouch on my pack’s waist belt, this small leak is no problem.
The capCAP can of course be used on other wide mouth bottles. I also use it on my 32oz HDPE Nalgene as well as my 32oz Guyot Designs Backpacker and have not noticed any leaking with those bottles. It’s a pretty neat product that I think makes a great addition to any wide mouth bottle.
Here are the weights of various lids, measured on my scale:
My last trekking poles were a pair of REI Peak UL Carbon Compacts. I was quite fond of them. At 11 oz for the pair, they were one of the lightest pair of telescoping poles available. Sadly, I broke them last January. A lot of folks who have only used aluminium poles cast a critical eye on those made of carbon fiber, thinking them flimsy and weak, so I think it is important to point out that it was a piece of the plastic locking mechanism that broke, not the carbon fiber pole shafts. I think that carbon fiber is a perfectly adequate material for trekking poles and should stand up to all reasonable abuse.
When my old poles broke, I took them into REI hoping that there might be some way to repair them. We spent an hour or so going through all their spare parts and trying to hack something usable back together, but in the end we couldn’t come to a solution that I was satisfied with. The fellow I’d been talking with mentioned that he could give me credit for the broken poles, which surprised me. I’ve returned plenty of used gear to REI, but never an item that was actually broken (and broken, as far as I’m concerned, due to user error and not any fault in the product itself). I guess they’re serious about that guarantee.
The credit was certainly welcome. I took it, but now I had to decide what to replace the poles with. REI no longer makes the Peak UL Carbon Compact trekking poles, so I couldn’t get another pair of the same. I started to look around to see what was on the market. My first limiting factor in the search was that I needed telescoping poles. I use trekking poles to pitch my Kifaru Paratarp. For the tarp, the needed height of the rear pole is 26”. This rules out a lot of poles that only collapse to something closer to 30”, such as those from Titanium Goat and Gossamer Gear. The other big factor was weight. Ideally, I wished to stay as close as possible to the 11 oz weight of the old poles. A quick look around told me that I would have to come to terms with at least some weight gain, as there didn’t seem to be anything to compete with the weight of the Peak UL Carbon Compacts. Some poles weighed 20 oz or more for the pair, which was just ridiculous! Leki had a few poles in the 14-16 oz neighborhood. A decent weight, I thought, but none of the poles really jumped out at me.
Eventually I came upon the offerings from Black Diamond. Their poles use the FlickLock locking mechanism, which I had heard of before. It had always intrigued me but I’d been turned off by the extra weight associated with it. Most of the big names in trekking poles, like Leki and Komperdell use a twist-lock mechanism which, as anybody who has ever used such poles can attest, is finicky at best. 1
After a bit more research, I decided that the greater functionality of the FlickLock system would be worth the weight gain. I landed on the Black Diamond Alpine Carbon Cork trekking poles. At 17.5 oz they were a good deal heavier than my old poles, but I thought I would give them a chance.
As the name implies the Alpine Carbon Cork poles have a cork handle and three shafts made of carbon fiber. They collapse down to 25” and expand to 51”.
The FlickLock mechanism operates as basically a clamp. When shut, it compresses the outer shaft, which prevents the inner shaft from moving. The tightness of the clamp can be adjusted with a single screw. It is simple, effective, and works in all conditions. There is no messing around with twisting one shaft to expand some little doohickey that you can’t see in the hopes that pressure will be built up against the inside of the outer shaft, no sitting around twisting one pole in the proper direction for 5 minutes wondering if the thing will ever lock, and there is little chance that shafts will accidentally collapse while in use. 2 Beyond the fact that the FlickLock mechanism actually works on a reliable basis, the next advantage is the speed of use: flick it open, adjust, and flick it closed. The main idea behind adjustable poles is that you can alter the length to meet the terrain: make the poles shorter for going uphill, longer for going downhill. With my previous twist-lock poles, I never did this. I only set the length once before setting out for the day. Periodically adjusting the poles was too risky (there was a likely chance I’d unlock them to adjust and spend countless minutes trying to get them to lock again) and even if I could be assured that the locking mechanism would work it still took a few seconds longer than I liked. Now with the FlickLock poles, I find myself merrily adjusting the poles to suit the terrain all day.
As with any decent trekking poles, the Alpine Carbon Corks come with both dirt and snow baskets. The snow baskets are nothing special, but I was surprised at how small the dirt baskets were. I’m not sure why they chose to make the baskets with so small a diameter. So far I have no noticed no difference in how they work. I’m probably not the best judge of that though, as I find all kinds of baskets to be unnecessary when there isn’t any snow. (I had a habit of losing baskets with all my old poles, but since I noticed no difference without the baskets I never spent the money to replace them.)
Rather than just sliding on the pole and being secured with a nipple and indentation, the baskets on the Black Diamond poles are actually threaded. You slide them on and then screw them down over the threaded area. This seems like a much more secure system. I think it unlikely that I’ll inadvertently loose these baskets.
The cork handles on these poles are new to me. My previous poles have always had foam handles. I’ve heard claims that cork handles are more comfortable than foam, but so far I have noticed no difference in that department. Still, I have only had these poles for the cooler part of the year. Perhaps in the summer heat with sweaty palms I will appreciate more of a difference. I am curious to see if there is much difference in the durability of the cork. I’ve already had a couple small pieces chip off – not enough to raise too much concern, but I’ll keep an eye on it.
The ergonomic shape of the handle is fine, but I don’t use it much. Rather than grasping the poles properly, my preferred method of use for trekking poles has always been to rest my wrist in the strap and lightly hold the lower part of the handle in the fleshy part of my hand between thumb and forefinger. I don’t think this is the most efficient way of doing things – placing all the weight on the wrist doesn’t seem the best thing to do – but it has always been most comfortable and natural to me. It allows me to freely swing the pole back and forth as I walk without much movement of the arm. (I say pole, not poles because though I always carry two to setup my tarp, I rarely hike with more than one pole. I like to have one hand free and find two poles cumbersome and unnecessary except for going down the steepest of hills.)
Below the cork handle, the upper part of the shaft has a foam grip, which I appreciate it. My old REI UL Carbon Compact poles lacked this (because of the extra weight it would entail, no doubt) and I found that I missed the feature. It’s nice to have a comfortable spot to grip when you are climbing up a short steep hill and don’t want to adjust the length of the poles.
Of course, with a new pair of poles I needed a new StickPic. My old models wouldn’t fit on the tip of the Black Diamond Alpine Carbon Corks. I tried to buy a new one, but Rodney Java refunded my money. That’s three now he’s given me for free. Someday I’ll track him down and shove the money under his door.
I’ve been using the Black Diamond Alpine Carbon Cork for about 4 months now and they have exceeded my expectations. I was wary at first about not getting a return for the significant increase in weight. Of course I still would like them to be lighter, but I feel that the increased functionality has justified the increased weight. 3 I am very pleased with the poles.
This kit is kept in the lid of my rucksack, which also functions as a man-purse for short trips away from camp. It is intended for emergencies only, and so is secondary (or even tertiary) to my normal fire starting equipment: ferro rod(s), rubberized BIC lighter, matches, and a fair amount of cotton balls covered in petroleum jelly. The kit here is to be used only when these other methods of starting fire have for some reason failed.
It is quite simple and is probably nothing unique. Everything is kept together and dry inside of a small aLOKSAK (measuring 5”x4”). It weighs 2.8 oz. The contents are as follows:
That’s a whole lot of fires that I can start with just this small kit, and I don’t even have to start messing around with natural tinder or making char-cloth yet!
Previously the envelope held a small ferrocerium rod and striker in lieu of the Spark-Lite. I’ve never been too impressed with the Spark-Lites: the sparks produced are relatively small and weak. They are fine for starting a fire with prepared tinder such as cotton balls or those commercial products included in this kit, but trying to get a natural tinder to take with them can be a bit of a pain. As for the whole one-handed fire starting thing – well, I have never broken my arm or hand. I have been cold enough to not have the fine motor control needed to reliably operate a Bic lighter or Spark-Lite. So for me, given the choice between a normal ferro rod and a one-handed Spark-Lite, I’d go for the normal rod. It requires a gross movement that I know I can always achieve, even when cold.
I decided to remove the ferro rod and add the Spark-Lite to this kit because I figure that I have enough ferro rods stashed here-and-there (including at least one tethered to my body) that the chances of me losing all of them are very slim. (I would be more likely to lose this kit, which is kept in my pack, not on my body.) I should never have to depend on whatever spark-making tool I keep in the envelope, but by opting to make that tool a Spark-Lite, I do give myself the possibility of one-handed fire making (without depending on lighters or trying to light a match held in my teeth). Doug Ritter would be proud.
