KEY FEATURES: RAIN GEAR
Waterproof-breathable fabric to allow some body moisture out.
Taped seams: the fewer seams, the better.
An adjustable hood with a peak that gives protection and allows side-to-side vision.
Adjustable cuffs.
A full-length front zipper with a storm flap.
Zippered chest pockets big enough for maps.
Low weight and bulk. (I always hope my rain jacket will spend most of its time in the pack!)
To keep rain out, hoods should fit closely around your face when the drawcords are tightened, without leaving a gap under the chin. Hoods that roll into the collar seem pointless in the back-country. They’re designed to look neat in town, but often you can’t easily get them out while wearing the jacket. Detachable hoods need to have a large overlap of material to prevent rain from running down your neck; most are very difficult to attach while wearing the jackets. I’ve been wary of them since I found a faded detachable hood in a gully high in the mountains. Had it been ripped off by the wind or dropped by fumbling cold fingers? Either way, someone had to function without a hood. A wired or otherwise stiffened peak or visor helps keep hail or driving rain off your face. People who wear glasses say this is essential. The best hoods move with your head so you can look to the side without staring at the lining, a problem with too many hoods. The best way to check is to try the hood on, though you can make a quick assessment by looking at the seams. A single vertical seam running back to front over the hood generally means it won’t move with you; if there are two seams, or a single seam that runs across the hood from one side to the other, the hood is more likely to allow good visibility. Unfortunately, the hoods that limit vision most are the ones that give the best protection. I prefer protection to visibility, especially when the rain drives down for hours and swirling mists hide the view.
A good hood should turn with the head and have a stiffened peak to keep rain off the face. GoLite Phantom.
In cold weather I usually wear a fleece-lined waterproof-breathable cap with a large brim instead of a hood during light showers, and I wear it under a hood in storms and blizzards for better protection than any hood alone can give. This combination is too warm outside the snow season, though baseball caps work reasonably well. Whether or not you wear such a cap, your jacket hood must be big enough to fit warm headwear underneath, from a full balaclava to a light knitted hat. Many hoods now have a drawcord or adjustable tab at the back so they can be expanded to cover a bulky hat or shortened so the peak doesn’t flop in your eyes when you take the hat off. Most of these work well. Front hood draw cords can lash your face in strong winds, so many jackets have tabs to hold them down or have cords that tuck into the jacket at each end. These can be fiddly to use but are welcome in storms.
Sleeves need to be cut full under the arms to allow for free movement. Trying on a garment is the best way to find out how well the sleeves are cut. Articulated sleeves with a built-in curve at the elbow may be useful for mountaineering but don’t have any advantages for backpackers.
Many garments have underarm zippers or “pit zips,” which are great for ventilation, though they can leak in heavy rain. However, jackets with double Velcro flaps to protect the zippers can be extremely hard to use. I wonder if designers have ever stood on a mountaintop in a blizzard with one arm in the air while the other hand gropes under pack straps trying to do up a zipper? Double flaps over pit zips are also bulky and can feel uncomfortable. Watertight zips with no flaps over them are much easier to use. I rarely use pit zips and don’t regard them as essential. Wide cuffs and mesh chest pockets are easier to use for ventilation.
RAIN JACKETS: MY CHOICES
The light rain jacket I favored in the last edition weighed 19 ounces. Now I wouldn’t consider that particularly light. My affections are currently split between the 13-ounce GoLite Phantom jacket, made from Gore-Tex Paclite, and the 14-ounce Montane Superfly, made from eVENT. Both have hoods with wired visors. The Phantom has two large mesh chest pockets and pit zips; the Superfly has two hand-warmer pockets and a chest pocket. Overall, the Phantom has the best design and ventilation but the Superfly is more breathable. If a rain jacket is not likely to be needed, I carry neither of these, however, preferring the much lighter Montane Hydralite. The breathability of this coated anorak is only moderate, there are no vents, and it has elasticized cuffs and a hood that rolls into the collar, which are features I dislike. However, it weighs just 7.7 ounces, making it probably the lightest waterproof-breathable jacket that’s capable of coping with the worst storms. It has a hood with a wired peak, a single chest pocket, and a watertight half-length zipper.
In cold weather, I wear a Páramo Alta II jacket that weighs 29 ounces. This has a snap-closed flap inside the front zipper that you can leave fastened with the zipper undone for ventilation, a hood with a wired peak, wide cuffs you can roll up, sleeve vents, and five pockets. It deals easily with the worst winter storms and is very comfortable. Because of the weight, I use this jacket only when I expect to wear it all day every day. A wind shell or a light fleece is unnecessary with it, which saves some weight.
The Montane Superfly eVENT jacket.
Cuffs need to be adjustable if they’re to be any use for ventilation. I like simple external, Velcro-closed ones rather than the neater but more awkward internal storm cuffs, and I abhor non-adjustable elasticized cuffs because my arms often overheat in them and run with sweat. Wide sleeves and cuffs provide the most ventilation and can even be rolled up when it’s warm. They’re also easy to pull over gloves or mittens.
Pockets are useful for maps, compasses, hats, gloves, and other small items as well as your cold hands. But pockets aren’t always waterproof, and even if they are, water will get in when you open them in the rain or stick a wet hand inside. It’s best to keep anything you want to stay dry inside a plastic bag. Páramo pockets are totally waterproof, as are some of those with watertight zippers. Pockets with standard zippers should always have covering flaps. The most water-resistant pockets hang inside the jacket, attached only at the top. My preference is for chest pockets, which are accessible when you’re wearing a pack hipbelt. Hem pockets are usually inaccessible then, but I don’t carry anything in them anyway, because they then flap irritatingly against my legs.
For chest pockets, the best compromise between waterproofness and accessibility is a vertical zippered entrance under the jacket’s front flap but outside its zipper. (Pockets inside the jacket stay dry, but you let in wind and rain when you open the jacket front to use them.) Zippers that close upward are best because small items in the pocket are less likely to fall out when you open them. Pullover garments usually have a single large “kangaroo” pouch on the chest, which is the easiest to use and very water resistant.
Pockets don’t need to be made from waterproof-breathable material. Indeed, breathability is reduced significantly if there are two or more layers of waterproof-breathable material on top of each other. Plain nylon is fine, but mesh is better, especially for chest pockets, because it adds minimum weight and you can ventilate the garment by opening the pockets. Mesh is particularly effective on a garment with two angled chest pockets on the outside, because with both pockets open but protected by their flaps, you can ventilate the whole chest and armpit area.
Mesh is also the best material for the inner lining found on most two-layer laminates and some coated garments, again because it’s light and helps moisture reach the breathable layer as quickly as possible. If the mesh is made from a wicking fabric, as many now are, all the better. Mesh can get damp with condensation, but solid linings, even nylon ones, can get quite wet, however breathable the outer layer.
Drawcords are needed at the collar for tightening the hood. They are also often found at the waist, but these are unnecessary, since the pack’s hipbelt closes off the jacket anyway. Self-locking toggles that grip until they are released are a boon on drawcords; trying to untangle an iced-up tiny knot with fro
zen fingers so you can lower your hood is not fun.
Finally, a note on shell garments with extra zippers for attaching a fleece inner layer: I hate them. The zippers add weight for no practical purpose and increase the cost. I’ve used such garments only briefly, but as far as I can see, they’re designed purely so that the combined garment can be worn as a warm town coat. I don’t find the effort of donning two garments too great to manage.
Weight and Fit
If you don’t wear rain shells very often, then a light one is all you need. The lightest practical jacket I’ve come across is Montane’s Hydralite at 7.7 ounces. There are plenty of good jackets between 10 and 16 ounces that should prove reasonably durable, including many made from Gore-Tex Paclite and a few made from eVENT. Above 16 ounces you find jackets that are tough and protective for severe mountain weather and regular use but a little heavy for carrying in the pack.
Rain jackets are more comfortable if they fit properly. A jacket should be roomy enough to fit over a fleece top without feeling restrictive. A close-fitting jacket will have better breathability, but slightly large is far better than slightly small. I also like sleeves that are long enough to pull over my hands if the weather turns unexpectedly cool.
Rain Pants
Rain pants used to be uncomfortable, restrictive garments that sagged at the waist, bulged at the knees, and snagged at the ankles. Some still are. Like most hikers, I wore them only during the heaviest downpours.
The introduction of waterproof-breathable fabrics made rain pants slightly more comfortable, but it was only when designers got to work on them that they really changed. In part this is related to changes in legwear in general. Traditional rain pants needed to be big and baggy because they had to fit over heavy wool or cotton pants, which were also big and baggy. Modern leg-wear is made from lighter, thinner fabrics and is closer fitting—a big improvement. Softer fabrics have helped, too. The changes have been so dramatic that the best waterproof legwear is comfortable enough to be worn next to the skin.
There are two basic designs: simple pants and bibs with a high back and chest and suspenders. For most hiking, pants are best, since they weigh less, are less bulky, are easier to get on and off, and cost less. Bibs, however, are excellent in cold weather, especially for ski touring, since they’re warmer than pants, leave no gaps at the waist when you stretch, and minimize the chance that snow will get into your clothes. Putting them on in cold and windy weather is unpleasant, to say the least, because you have to remove other layers. For that reason, and because of their weight and bulk, they’re best worn all day rather than carried.
Base-layer long pants or, in really cold weather, fleece pants are the best garments to wear under rain pants, since they feel comfortable when damp. Synthetic trail pants work well too, but cotton-nylon and cotton trousers absorb moisture and tend to feel damp and cold.
Features worth having on rain pants are adjustable drawcords at the waist and knee-length zippers to allow you to get the pants on over boots. Pockets, or slits to allow access to inner pants pockets, are useful. If you wear rain pants frequently, consider full-length side zips that can be opened at the top for ventilation; they also allow you to put on rain pants over crampons or skis, though it can be hard to handle long zippers in a strong wind. Keep in mind that it’s very difficult to make full-length side zippers fully waterproof. Velcro-closed flaps help, but they make it even harder to put the pants on. Watertight zippers are a better choice. I prefer full-length zippers for pants I’ll wear all day; I’d rather have good ventilation and suffer the occasional leak. Gussets behind knee-length zippers help keep rain out, but they tend to catch in the zippers. For men, rain pants with flies are worth considering. I don’t like elasticized hems; I find they ride up over your boot tops, letting water in. Nonelasticized hems with drawcords or Velcro-closed tabs are better. Ultralight pants like the GoLite Reed omit zippers to save weight; when they’ll spend most of the time on my back, I’m happy with this.
RAIN PANTS: MY CHOICE
I often don’t bother wearing rain pants at all in summer. Shorts are fine in warm rain—legs dry fast! If it’s cool, synthetic long pants are reasonably warm when damp and dry quickly. However, I always carry an ultralight pair of GoLite Reed waterproof-breathable pants (weight 5.5 ounces) just in case it’s colder than I expected. These are rather fragile and wouldn’t stand up to continuous use, but because they spend most of their time in the pack, weight is my main concern. On the few occasions I’ve worn them, they’ve kept my legs adequately warm and dry. On winter and cold-weather trips, I wear Páramo Alta pants (current equivalent is the Páramo Aspira) that have full-length zippers for ventilation, suspenders, and reinforced knees and seat. They weigh 30 ounces, but they replace both insulating and shell layers. Mostly I wear them next to my skin, wearing base-layer pants under them only in extreme cold (below 10°F [−12°C]).
Rain pants run from 5 to 40 ounces, depending on design and fabric. As with rain jackets, heavier garments will outlast lighter ones. Rain pants suffer more hard wear than jackets, though, so if you’re likely to wear them much of the time, I’d put durability above weight. But if they’ll spend most of their time in your pack, the lighter the better. The heaviest garments might be a little hot in summer, while the lightest, thinnest rain pants don’t give adequate protection in severe winter weather.
It’s best to try rain pants on before you buy, preferably over the pants you’ll wear under them so you can check that they don’t bind anywhere when you move. Length is important, too. Unfortunately, few makers offer different lengths. Alterations are possible, though zipped legs make this difficult (if the zippers start a little way above the hem, pants are easier to shorten). It’s better to find a pair that fits to begin with.
An umbrella makes a great sunshade. GoLite Dome.
Umbrellas
Although they’re not clothing, this seems an appropriate time to discuss umbrellas. I’d never considered carrying an umbrella or seen anyone else doing so until I met a hiker using one on a rainy day back in 1988 on the North Boundary Trail in Jasper National Park. It was much more comfortable than a rain jacket, Stu Dechka told me. His Gore-Tex jacket was draped over his pack to keep it dry. I was surprised but thought no more about it until five years later when Ray Jardine extolled the virtues of umbrellas in The Pacific Crest Trail Hiker’s Handbook. My hiking apprenticeship took place in the windy, treeless British hills, and I’d never given umbrellas serious consideration. People on city streets seemed to have enough problems when it was windy; in the hills umbrellas would be impossible to handle. However, on reflection I could see that for hiking in forests and areas where gales are unusual, they could have advantages.
Then I had the opportunity to hike for a few days with Ray Jardine in the Oregon Cascades, and we took umbrellas. I soon discovered that in the woods they’re excellent. It was wonderful to stride through the forest in heavy rain with my hood down and my jacket wide open and stay dry. The closed-off feeling of being sealed in a rain jacket was absent. At stops, the umbrella provided shelter and protected the pack. But above timberline a gusty wind was blowing. Ray showed me how to point the umbrella into the wind and close it down slightly to protect it and also keep the rain out of my face. But as we climbed higher the wind grew stronger and gusted from every direction; eventually both our umbrellas turned inside out and ripped. (Ray thought they could be modified to prevent this.) This was late October; such severe conditions would be unusual during the summer hiking season, but I’m too cautious to hike without rain clothing even with an umbrella. (Ray and Jenny Jardine have hiked both the Appalachian and Pacific Crest Trails with umbrellas and without rain gear, but Ray does recommend carrying a light rain jacket.) When I hiked the Arizona Trail several years later, I brought a 9-ounce GoLite Dome umbrella, designed by Ray. It made a great sunshade in the desert (though covering it with Mylar would have made it even better; GoLite now makes the Chrome Dome, which has a metallic canopy), and I
used it to fend off one heavy shower. However, while it was easy to hold on good trails and open terrain, it was awkward on rough ground and in dense vegetation. You can’t use two trekking poles and hold an umbrella, and overall I’ve decided the poles have more benefit for me, so the Dome doesn’t get much use.
THE VAPOR-BARRIER THEORY
As always, there is a view that challenges accepted wisdom, in this case the concept of “breathability.” Our skin is always slightly moist, however dry it may feel; if it really dries out it cracks and chaps, and sores appear. Our bodies constantly produce liquid—either sweat or, when we aren’t exercising hard, insensible perspiration. The aim of breathable clothing is to move moisture away from the skin as quickly as possible and transport it to the outside air where it can evaporate. This inevitably causes heat loss. And as I have said, breathable shells may not work in severe weather conditions.
The vapor-barrier theory says that instead of trying to remove this moisture from the skin, you should try to keep it there so no more will be produced and the attendant evaporative heat loss will cease. You’ll stay warm, and your clothing will stay dry because it won’t have to deal with large amounts of liquid. To achieve this, you wear a nonbreathable waterproof layer either next to or close to the skin, with insulating layers over it. Because heat is trapped inside, you need less clothing.
Chris Townsend Page 24
