Month: March 2019

>

The Gudauskas brothers, now in their early thirties, grew up learning to surf the waves near their San Clemente home. Ever since their late teens, Dane, Tanner, and Pat have been traveling the world as professional surfers. When Tanner and Pat qualified for the World Surf League Tour for the first time, Dane wrote “Positive Warrior” on the bottom of Tanner’s board to remind him to keep a positive attitude when things got tough. It became a family mantra, then it morphed into a nonprofit organization, Positive Vibe Warriors, that works to connect young people with surfing and the ocean while teaching them how to protect their wild playground. We talked to the brothers about the work they’re doing and their upcoming documentary Can’t Steal Our Vibe.

---

TANNER: A lot of times when you’re traveling by yourself on the road, there can be a dark side, especially if you’re on a losing streak. It was about the idea of being strong, enjoying the moment, and keeping a positive attitude.

DANE: We just started saying it a bunch. What started as a little thing to get you through became this universal mantra. It’s really just a micro concept for life as a whole. People started sharing their stories with us, and they were feeling inspired by it like we were. We started making stickers and sweatpants and people were stoked. We started saying, “Well what are we going to do with it?” We’re passionate about giving back to the next generation of kids and ocean conservation. We’ve been around the ocean our whole life, and we want people to treat the water with respect and also be safe. We want to give back to communities with youth water-safety programs and allow kids to engage in the ocean in a positive way. So that’s what the foundation stands for. It all started with one small thought. Positive Vibe Warriors as an official nonprofit got started about five or six years ago.

TANNER: We have an event called Stoke-O-Rama (a youth surf event with Vans that raises money for local water safety programs), and we love the role model aspect of it. Our dad passed that on to us: just having fun with ocean and learning about. Stoke-O-Rama is about teaching kids the fun side of surfing and the comradery of the breach. We started to realize that we could get more serious about the organization, raise money, and then direct it to what we were really passionate about it.

DANE: Stoke-O-Rama is a great first step for kids to get involved in contests. It’s all about fun, and we usually raise $10,000 per event to go back to youth water safety in the area, like swim lessons or junior lifeguards. We partnered this year with Big Wave Risk Assessment Group to get training for up-and-coming big-wave surfers. They teach safety techniques for when you’re out surfing big waves. We’ve been in the water when people go down and CPR needs to be performed. That skill set is important, and we need to look out for each other. We really wanted to pass those skills down to the next generation. We also do surfboard drives. We did one for Jamaica, where people along the coast of California donated surfboards to surf shops and we shipped them down to communities to give boards to kids that don’t have them. The second board drive we did was for South Africa. (Editor’s note: They collected almost 200 boards for Jamaica and 700 for South Africa.)

TANNER: It takes you through the process of our South Africa board drive. It builds off a relationship with Mikey February, a super interesting character in the surf world who just qualified for the World Tour with Patrick. He works with an organization there called Waves for Change , which is a surf therapy program that operates in at-risk communities in Africa. Mikey has been a big fan of Positive Vibe Warriors since we started it––he painted “can’t steal our vibe” on his board. It sort of organically happened. The documentary follows the drive and the effect for Waves For Change. Originally the boards were just for Cape Town, but we had so many that they’re going to Somalia, Liberia, and Mozambique. The surfboard is the tool for the kids to get to the beach. Surf therapy is them coming and being able to talk to coaches and mentors and open up about home life or school life, and then getting to go surfing. In South Africa, we wanted kids to experience the ocean in a positive way and have fun. It had a really big impact.

DANE: Waves for Change and Surfers Not Street Children, which we also work with, both use surfing as a therapy outlet in townships that have faced traumatic events. It’s all about believing in kids’ abilities to find happy places and helping them get there. We got a lot of inspiration from the people who run those organizations. They’re doing great work. Things like this make you love what you do, when you go out there and ride waves, everyone is connected by that experience.

DANE: Yeah, it’s been really exciting to have different communities reach out and tell us their stories. We’ve seen how something as simple as a surfboard drive can become so much bigger, and the scale it can reach. We’re feeling inspired to continue them. Right now we’re working on our third one for kids in Trinidad and Tobago, and inner-city kids in San Francisco and New York City. We have a blueprint of what we want to do but we change and adapt it with each community we work in.

TANNER: The upcycling process is fun and it’s sustainable. We end up getting a myriad of boards. Some people will give new boards and others who are done with their board will pass it on and it gets a new life. 

DANE: Just seeing how people can connect from cultures all over the world to create a greater positive feeling, or hearing that people find inspiration in it that makes their day a little brighter than it was before. Or really just seeing people treating each other with that stoke, seeing how it’s opening up on Instagram with people connecting in a positive way. With the board drives and the Stoke-O-Rama, you’re dealing with people who are coming together, forming friendships, and learning how to interact and care for each other. There are so many things we can get fixated on in the world that are a bummer, and sometimes it’s nice to have something to feel good about and just add a little bit of light.

TANNER: We could never have imagined what would have unfolded. We were just putting one foot in front of the other. It’s had its own growth. There was a kid in middle school in Newport, and he screenshotted the posters for our board drive and started his own at his school. He collected around 30 boards and brought them on the day we were loading up all the boards. We were so blown away that this little kid found so much love in him and wanted to put the effort in to do that.

DANE: In San Clemente, there was a lot of older talented surfers and they would stoke us out in the water. I remember how pumped I’d be if they remembered my name. And so we thought that if we can just be like them, then that would be such a treat for the next generation. We had that philosophy and just carried it forward. We’ve also been able to travel to different cultures and see that there are universal traits among people, that a smile is universal. It doesn’t matter where you live or where you are, you can just share that joy and stoke with other people. Seeing it on a global scale has allowed us to realize that there’s no limit to where we can take PVW. If we can do it here, we can do it anywhere.

TANNER: The surf world has grown but it’s still a small, close-knit family. If you see surfers out in the water, no matter where you are, you’re going to talk to them. We wanted to be part of that positive community and we wanted to help it grow. That was the beginning of the idea. We’ve seen opportunities to help and we’re doing our best to do that.

You just have to unfollow all those downers first

There’s a lot of stuff on social media that can be a huge bummer. Fortunately, the animal kingdom has provided some inspiration for social media that is not a bummer. Here are 10 animal-themed Twitter accounts that will provide a pleasant break from the usual stuff in your feed (and generally not ruin your day).

Not a Wolf

Tweets not written by a wolf pretending to be a human man, and also not written by comedian and writer Dan Sheehan.

Thoughts of Dog

If you love or have loved 1) a dog or 2) pretty much all dogs, or if you believe the world would be a better place if we all thought and acted more like dogs, this account will make your day on a regular basis.

100% Goats

I’m telling you about a Twitter account that is called 100% Goats and I don’t think you should need any more information about it.

Just a Bear

Ruminations on the daily life of a bear, from a bear.

BirdsRightsActivist

Barely English, but understandable because it’s written by a bird who fights anti-bird sentiment, and is running for president.

Effin Birds

Simply: snarky and usually profane quips paired with exquisite drawings of birds.

In Otter News

You pay too much attention to political news and not enough attention to what otters are up to. Fix that here.

WeRateDogs

WeRateDogs has more than 7 million followers, based on its witty ratings of dog photos sent by followers. Spoiler: not a hell of a lot of dogs get ratings below 10/10.

Pepe the King Prawn

Of all the Muppet characters (who are pretty funny and/or cute in the flesh, er, felt), only Pepe the King Prawn is actually funny on Twitter, OK?

Dog Solution

To be honest: photos of dogs that kind of don’t make sense with tweet captions that sort of make sense (but are usually funny).

(I’m not an animal, but you can follow me on Twitter at @semi_rad.)

>

Clayton Woodruff, vice president of Progressive Trail Design (PTD) in Bentonville, Arkansas, misses digging in the dirt. When he joined the mountain-bike trail-building company in 2010, just a few years after his brother, Nathan, founded it in 2007, he’d spend up to six months a year either in the seat of a miniature bulldozer, literally cutting new singletrack out of the raw earth, or following behind the machine, shovel in hand, to smooth it out. It was just him, his brother, and a few close friends back then. Today the company has about 30 employees, and Woodruff spends most of his work hours behind a desk, not heavy machinery.

“I was just telling someone that I’ve gone soft these days because, I’m like, Oh man, I need air-conditioning,” he says. “But there is a lot less job stress when you know all you have to do is build stuff.”

And no wonder. On a typical day for Woodruff, there’s planning to be done, designs to be drawn, employees to manage, subcontractors to be hired, and an unbelievable amount of red tape to cut through. While a ground crew can knock out about a mile of new trail in a couple of hours if the conditions are right, it can take years to get the necessary erosion-control plans, environmental-impact reports, and other paperwork approved before a single shovelful of dirt can be moved.

Compared to that, actually building a trail is fairly simple. He and the other designers will look at a topographic map and start laying out possible routes based on the contours of the land and the scenic overlooks and features they want riders to enjoy. Once a route has been determined, they’ll walk it and mark it with brightly colored survey flags, adding switchbacks and doglegs along the way to ensure the slope of the trail doesn’t exceed an erosion-friendly 10 percent grade. Then, using a combination of experience and intuition for what makes a trail fun, the crew member manning the mini bulldozer simply starts cutting a track from flag to flag.

“That’s where skill comes in,” Woodruff says. “We compete against landscape construction companies for projects, but you almost have to be a rider to be able to go into the woods and visualize what that trail’s going to look like. If you take that knowledge out of it, you’re just digging in the dirt.”

From there, the rest of the crew follows on foot, wielding hand tools to spice up the route and make sure it rides the way they want. That can mean ten- to twelve-hour days on the ground for weeks at a time.

Gaining that level of expertise, both at the office and in the woods, was a long journey for a company that began almost by accident. But looking back now, it seems a little like fate. If you’re not a mountain biker, you probably know Bentonville as the home of Walmart’s headquarters. If you are a mountain biker, you know that the sleepy Ozark town, population 35,301, is becoming one of America’s singletrack meccas (which you can read about here, here, and here). But that wasn’t always the case. When Clayton and Nathan were growing up in these hills, most of the mountain biking they could find was either on old dirt-bike tracks or trails built illegally in the woods.

Then in the mid-2000s, Nathan, who was working toward a career in education, helped build a few routes at a nearby state park, and when Bentonville started thinking about creating some new, downhill-style bike trails, his name sort of popped up for the job. From there he founded PTD and took on any project he could find, often subcontracting for larger organizations like the International Mountain Bicycling Association’s trail-building division and sleeping in dingy RVs in parking lots to save money while working gigs. As the company grew, so did Bentonville and America’s demand for quality singletrack, and PTD has since built trails everywhere from Bend, Oregon, to Baja California Sur, Mexico.

One key to this success could be the brothers’ approach to their industry. That is, while they are very much your stereotypical mountain-biking bros who love drinking beer and shredding on their bikes, they’re all business when it comes to their work.

“Mountain biking has this culture around it that’s not taken seriously,” Woodruff says. “If I was giving advice to someone looking to do what we do, it’d be to send in a professional e-mail and résumé. If somebody just sends ‘What’s up bro? All this seems chill,’ I’m not inclined to hire that guy.”

Today 20 of PTD’s 30 employees work full-time year-round. It’s their professionalism and institutional knowledge that lets them juggle the seven to ten projects they take on each year.    

But no matter where their next project is or what kind of trail they’re building, the best part of the job continues to be the same. No, it’s not getting paid to ride (though Woodruff admits that’s pretty great, too)—it’s riding their new trail with friends or clients for the first time.

“It’s just high fives all around,” he says.

>

I don’t need to write this article. The mere fact that Jeep is selling a Wrangler-based pickup is enough. You will look at the photos, which show exactly what you’d expect a Wrangler with a bed to look like, and you will want one. But I like writing about cars, particularly neat ones like this, so I’m going to write this article anyway. 

The Gladiator will be the most off-road-capable pickup ever offered in stock form. What about the Ford F-150 Raptor you might ask? Well, that doesn’t come with a solid front axle, (which maximizes articulation), a locking front differential, (which maximizes traction), or the Gladiator’s extremely good approach and departure angles, (you’ll notice I didn’t mention breakover there). The Raptor will still be way better on the road and way faster, but it will not get through as challenging of terrain as the Gladiator will. Also, you can’t take the roof and doors off a Raptor or fold down the windscreen. And that alone is enough to justify the Gladiator’s existence. 

The Gladiator will not be the most capable Jeep. That honor will remain with the two-door Wrangler Rubicon, largely because the Gladiator is just so freakin’ loooonnnnngggg. Its wheelbase is a full 19.4 inches longer than that of the four-door Wrangler, while the truck itself is 31 inches longer. Jeep acknowledges this fact by fitting the Rubicon version (the one with the most off-road chops) of the Gladiator with honest-to-god rock rails under its doors, as well as actual protection parts under the rear corners. So scrape away, pickup-loving rock crawlers. 

Nor will the Gladiator be the truckiest of mid-size trucks. Despite its upgraded solid axles and optional 442-pound-foot turbodiesel engine, it can’t quite match the towing capacity of the diesel Chevy Colorado, which can be maxed out to 7,700 pounds (the Gladiator only manages a pitiful 7,650), nor can it match the new Ford Ranger’s 1,860-pound payload rating (the Gladiator can carry only a pathetic 1,650 pounds in its bed). But buyers won’t be buying this truck to work, largely because they won’t be able to afford to.  

The Gladiator will likely be the most expensive mid-size truck you can buy. Jeep hasn’t released official pricing yet, but more size means more metal, which will combine with the incredible level of pent up demand to almost certainly make it more expensive than the Wrangler it’s based on. It will be available in Sport, Sport S, Overland, and Rubicon trim levels. If by some miracle the Gladiator is priced the same as an equivalent four-door Wrangler (it won’t be), that will mean its cheapest possible price is $33,000. A diesel-equipped Rubicon will likely exceed $60,000. In comparison, the new Ford Ranger will start at $24,000. 

But none of that matters, because starting in the second-half of next year, this will be the hottest Jeep you can buy, if not the coolest vehicle in America. Especially when you take the roof and doors off. Did I mention you can do that? 

It was long, long ago, on a wall far, far away

You think that last pitch was tough? Do you know about the first ascent of this climb? Well, you’re in luck. I can tell you a little bit about it.

Gunter Bonattisini, the famous German-Italian alpinist, was the first to climb this route. Ever heard of him? I’m not surprised. This was 145 years ago this summer. He didn’t have a big rack of shiny cams like you did, because cams weren’t invented for another 100 years. He had three pitons, four carabiners, and 43 feet of hemp rope that he found on a sheep farm about 20 miles south of here, which he passed on his bike ride to the base of the climb. Which started at the flour mill he worked at 120 miles away, over three mountain passes.

He worked a double shift at the flour mill on Thursday so he could have Friday off to go climb. He left right after his shift and bicycled here in the dark, on a single-speed bike with a mushy coaster brake and no seat. He borrowed the bike from his boss’s young daughter, so it was too small. Anyway, he squeezed himself onto the girl’s bike, slung his pack over his shoulders, and pedaled over those three mountain passes in the dark. Luckily, it only snowed on him on one of the three passes, and the drifts were only two feet deep, so he was able to carry the bike through them on his shoulder while he postholed.

I seem to remember you were complaining of being a bit carsick on the drive here. Bonattisini didn’t get carsick, because he didn’t have a car. The Model T wasn’t invented until 1908, as you’re probably aware. Anyway, he wasn’t complaining about being carsick when he started out on the approach hike.

Also, there was no trail to the base of the climb, like there is today. So he just bushwhacked three miles in. He got to the base of the wall an hour before sunrise, so he decided to take a short nap before starting to climb. The rain woke him just after the sun came up, and the rock was a little wet, but he had ridden his bike all that ways, so he decided to start climbing.

He didn’t have fancy sticky-rubber shoes like you’re wearing. He didn’t even have hobnail boots, like the mountaineer in that last story I told you. He had borrowed a pair of dress shoes from a friend, and they were three sizes too big. But of course, sticky rubber hadn’t been invented yet, so he didn’t know any better, so he started to climb. He tied his rope around his waist and clipped his pitons to it, and began to link crack systems. About 30 feet up that first crack, he invented the hand jam.

Somewhere around the beginning of the present-day third pitch, the sun came out and started baking the rock. Bonattisini started to sweat, as the temperature had swung probably 20 degrees, and he had only brought one layer—a wool sweater he had been issued during his stint in the army five years prior. It was hot. I should mention that he didn’t have any chalk, because climbers didn’t really use chalk until later in the next century. Bunch a softies, we are nowadays.

About 400 feet up the route, just below the roof you were grunting and wheezing through a few minutes ago, he thought about placing a piton to protect himself, but figured the rope drag would be too much, so he just went for it. He had free-soloed the entire route up until this point, even though no one called it “free soloing” back then. It was just called “climbing.” Above the roof, he rolled and smoked four cigarettes and drank half a pint of brandy.

See the offwidth above us, that widens to a chimney and overhangs for 120 feet? Bonattisini wrote in his diary from the day that it “looked challenging from below but proved to be exhilarating, and the best part of the climb.” It’s rated at 5.12b nowadays. Also, take a good look at it—you’re leading it.

After the overhanging offwidth to chimney, the climbing was straightforward, if strenuous. Bonattisini wrote a long description of the technique he used to climb the corner, which today we call “laybacking.” At the top, he rested for a minute before scrambling to the summit. He ate a piece of bread and jam, the last of his food, and finished another half-pint of brandy. As it was dark at this point, he coiled his small bit of rope, lay down on top of it and slept until sunrise the next morning, waking up three times to clear a foot of snow from on top of his face.

In the morning, he did 135 rappels down the route back to the base, where he killed and ate most of a chamois, packing a section of it in a handkerchief for his bike ride back to his village. He rode halfway back over the first two mountain passes, stopping for the night at a farm where he was allowed to sleep in the barn in exchange for helping bale hay until noon the next day. After a hearty lunch with the farmer’s family, he pedaled the rest of the way to his village, stopping only once, to rescue a small child and three kittens from a house fire. He was back at work at the flour mill on Monday morning.

Anyway, here’s the rack. I think you’ll really enjoy that offwidth part.

Click:hanfu dress male female
>

I’ve lived in Yosemite off and on since 1995. From my current home, I can see El Capitan and Half Dome from my front door. And so I’ve had a pretty good view over the past 12 days of just how bad the partial government shutdown has trashed the national park.

December is low season in Yosemite, but the park still gets 3 percent of its visitors during the month, which equates to about 119,000 people. Normally, around 800 National Park Service employees are staffed during the off-season and cater to those visitors. But, according to a friend of mine who works as a ranger, the end of December saw only about 50 Park Service employees—law enforcement, some firefighters, ambulance drivers—accommodating a holiday-weekend level of tourists. 

“We’re low on staff this time of year anyway,” the ranger told me, “so any reduction in staff is noticeable to both the Park Service and visitors.”

Driving the Valley Loop Road last weekend, it felt like peak tourist season: cars overflowing from pullouts, families pouring out of SUVs that have their four-ways on in the middle of the road, guests from all over the world choking up the entrances and exits to the Village Store. Even worse, some trails were covered in used toilet paper, candy wrappers, abandoned clothing, and other trash. 

“There are piles of human shit everywhere,” a friend of mine, also a Yosemite local, wrote on Facebook, quoting another park ranger who wished to remain anonymous. “Gross, but so seriously true. Garbage cans are overflowing until we can get time to pick it up.”

Technically, the park is open and free. And Yosemite has a concession service, which has remained open, allowing visitors a few spots with available facilities. But Park Service options are limited.

The resulting human-waste issues have led to the closure of many places within the park, including Wawona Campground, Hodgdon Meadow Campground, and the Mariposa Grove of Giant Sequoias. The visitor centers in the park are also closed. On Wednesday, the park closed daytime access to the south entrance from 9 A.M. to 6 P.M.

“People are screaming about paying their taxes and having rights,” my friend wrote, quoting the ranger. “Keeping parks accessible is reasonable if people can fend for themselves and care for the park themselves, but the large majority can’t. … That is why they hire the National Park Service. To provide a service to the vast majority who don’t know how to be a true steward for their land or don’t care to be. I beg all of you to stay home and not visit your parks until everyone comes back to work. Your experience will be ten thousand times better.”

On January 2, two informal cleanup groups worked at the Four Mile Trailhead, Bridalveil Falls parking area, the Village Store, and Happy Isles, picking up trash, bagging it, and driving it out of the park. Though it has been tragic to watch people trash one of the most beautiful places in the world, it has also been heartwarming to see how our little Valley community has reacted to the mayhem.

>

When you buy something using the retail links in our stories, we earn an affiliate commission that helps pay for our work. Read more about Outside’s affiliate policy.

At the end of 2015, I found myself at an inflection point. The Bay Area housing market bounced back, and the owners of my rental decided to sell. I was 27 years old and working long hours at a startup, following a relatively traditional path. I moved all my possessions into a five-by-ten-foot storage unit and headed to Mount Hood in Oregon for a backcountry ski trip. On the drive back, I totaled my hatchback, sold it for cash, tucked my tail between my legs, and flew home to Minnesota. Like any good origin story, you gotta fall before you get back up.

This unlucky series of events felt surprisingly cathartic. Not having an address, car maintenance, or monthly rent was liberating. Over the holiday I started scheming, convincing myself that my late twenties was the ideal time to live nomadically. I worked through a year’s worth of finances, sketched a few camper designs, and made a spreadsheet of the parts I would need. This sounds pragmatic in hindsight, but it didn’t feel that way at the time. I went with it anyway.

I had no interest in vans. I wanted a vehicle that I could get into trouble with, and I was happy sacrificing comfort for it. So I invested in a 2015 Toyota Tacoma Double Cab and added a three-inch lift and all-terrain tires. Tacomas are the pinnacle of reliability, and when they eventually break down, their parts are close to universal. Almost any small-town mechanic can fix one.

Next I took the hardest step toward truck life: giving my stuff away. Pretty much all of it. Many vanlifers keep a storage unit filled with valuable possessions, but this contradicted my dream of simplicity. My closest friends were rewarded for it like kings. I limited myself exclusively to stuff that fit in the truck, from camping gear to books, tools, electronics, and a small kitchen. As I’ve progressively optimized for longer out-of-office e-mail and fewer showers, I’ve gotten more judicious about what comes along.

---

Turning a truck into a livable space is a work in progress. For me, the components for a sustainable nomadic life are storage, solar energy, water, a bed, a fridge, propane, and a better suspension, loosely in that order. My truck is currently on its sixth iteration, and I’m continually finding new ways to simplify. This is what my current setup looks like. 

My roof, so to speak, is a Leer 180 truck cap. It’s a commercial-style camper shell that’s pretty expensive but offers features that make nomadic life much easier and adds a little extra headroom, too. To increase the comfort, I added four interior LED lights, Reflectix insulation, a six-inch fan to help with condensation, a Thule roof rack, and solid-fiberglass side windows that open upward. These windows allow me more access to the bed and create a dark coffin to sleep in, which is great in a city.

The centerpiece of my storage system is a custom-built, six-foot-long, three-foot wide, six-inch-high drawer that runs the length of the bed. I made it out of three-eighth-inch plywoodand half-inch screws. The drawer, which moves on heavy-duty sliders, functions as a kitchen, pantry, bookshelf, snack cabinet, and miscellaneous storage bin. In the four corners of the bed, around the wheel wells, I built custom storage cubbies, which are great for less-used tools and outdoor gear.

The rashest move I made was tearing out the back seats of the double cab. I hadn’t seen anyone do this before, so I was making stuff up as I went. But looking back, I haven’t regretted this decision once. On the rear driver side, a couple of plywood cubbies, which hold my clothes, are bolted to the same holes the seats used. I insulated between the wood and metal, to reduce noise and heat loss. Below the wooden structure, I left a spot for my shoes (five pairs). Adjacent to the seat, there’s enough room for dog food, bowls, and toys.

I decided to put my fridge on the rear passenger side. This proved to be quite challenging, mostly because 90-degree angles don’t exist in trucks, but by mounting the fridge on a slider, I can simply open the truck door and pull the fridge out for a snack.

The fridge draws its power from a Goal Zero battery, which runs on three pliable 100-watt solar panels that are attached to the roof. On the left side of the fridge is my propane tank, sitting on its side, which can be turned on and off quickly. I can fill it from this position, too, so it never needs to be fully removed. On the right side of the fridge is the water jug, which is sufficient for about a week or so. This back-seat build took me two long days, with a good bit of help from my dad and friends.

My kitchen is bare bones. A cast-iron pan, a few MSR pots, a coffee press, a handful of metal sporks, and a double-burner stove have worked, without fail, for three years running. Wanting to reduce waste, I connected my stove to a 20-pound propane tank instead of burning dozens of the green canisters. I ratcheted the propane tank down in the truck bed, along with the portable fridge and water jug. It didn’t take long to learn that this would limit my sleeping space dramatically. Seeing as I spend a third of every day sleeping, my bed needed to take precedent, forcing me to find a new place for my utilities.

The crux of living in any vehicle is storage. My solution is a Thule roof box. With 16 cubic feet of space, the box provided enough room for a couple pairs of skis, tents, packs, and climbing and camping gear. It’s easy to open, locks securely, and doesn’t wreck my gas mileage, which I appreciate. It’s also a great way to limit the gear I bring along.

A real bed was actually one of my most recent additions. I bought a foam mattress online and threw a fitted sheet on top of it. Add a couple of pillows, a wool blanket, and a double sleeping bag, and I have a queen bed that works well in all seasons.

I’m sure I’ll continue to modify this system, but the key to all of it is: the less you own, the happier you are.

>

Outside’s gear team is in Denver at the Outdoor Retailer trade show this week, scouring the booths for lust-worthy products for next fall and winter. Here’s what caught our attention on day one. 

Most of the Outside staff owns at least one pair of Duer jeans. Some of us have had them for years, while others are just coming into their first pair. We’re all particularly excited about the company’s new Weatherproof Denim, which is launching in January and combines a stretchy performance fabric with a waterproof-windproof membrane. Essentially, they look and feel like our favorite jeans but won’t leave us soaking on the rare rainy-day commute to our Santa Fe office.

Thru-hikers have used Altra’s plush, zero-drop Lone Peak running shoes on the trails for years; they provide ample cushioning in a lightweight package that keeps feet happy over long days. Now the brand is creating a dedicated hiking boot. The new Tushar features Altra’s iconic wide toe box with a sturdy, supportive ankle; a polyurethane midsole that’ll hold up after many miles of pounding; and a durable 1,000-denier upper. Look for it in July. 

Down jackets are winter staples, given their unparalleled warmth-to-weight ratio. But many of the superlight versions come with paper-thin face fabrics that tear if an errant branch so much as grazes them. Black Diamond has worked out a solution with its Vision parka, wrapping the 800-fill down clusters in a face fabric that has “liquid-crystal polymer” woven in for reinforcement. It’s the same stuff that makes the company’s Vision climbing harness so burly. And yet the jacket still only tips the scales at 1.3 pounds. The result: a down parka with that light weight and warmth we all know and love, in a package that you don’t have to baby. The Vision goes on sale in fall 2019. 

Fjällräven’s Kanken pack is iconic, so much so that we named it one of the top five gear items of all time. Its streamlined square design holds just enough for a day in town or on the trail, and a zipper around three sides provides easy access. In 2019, Fjällräven is updating the Kanken line by going vintage. The Vardag 16-liter backpack features the tough waxed-canvas fabric the brand is known for, in a rounded silhouette, with the old company logo–an ode to the brand’s roots. 

 

>

When you buy something using the retail links in our stories, we earn an affiliate commission that helps pay for our work. Read more about Outside’s affiliate policy.

This fall, Arc’teryx launched two new rainwear products, the Arc’teryx Zeta FL rain jacket ($325) and Zeta SL rain pants ($225).  Designed for fast-and-light hiking and available exclusively at REI, both products round out the Zeta line, which was previously highlighted by the Zeta AR shell, one of our favorite jackets for hiking. I’ve been testing the new products for the past few weeks. Here are my initial thoughts. 

Both the Zeta FL rain jacket and Zeta SL rain pants are made from Gore-tex Paclite Plus, a breathable and waterproof material that also has the benefits of being highly packable. The jacket and pants feature a trim fit and articulated tailoring to increase mobility, water-resistant zippers, and adjustable waists and cuffs, and the jacket has zippered hand pockets and an adjustable hood.

I wore the Zeta FL jacket and Zeta SL pants on an overnight trip to Lake Katherine, an alpine lake eight miles above Santa Fe. A few early-season snowstorms made for a chilly yet sweaty hike in. I found the jacket and pants to be comfortable, and I appreciated their slim fit. In general, I avoid rain pants because I tend to overheat and the traditionally baggy fits are noisy while walking. The Zeta SL, on the other hand, was comfortable and had a soft next-to-skin feel. In general, both products felt more like $600 mountaineering and skiing shells than simple rainwear. 

The Zeta FL features Gore-Tex Paclite Plus fabric, which is waterproof and fairly breathable. The main body is a light but packable 20-denier material with few seams. When designing both products, packability and comfort were Arc’teryx’s main priorities, and just by looking at them you’ll notice their sleekness. 

At six foot one and 175 pounds, I’m fairly tall and thin. I like Arc’teryx products because of their slimmer fit, and size large fit me well. I would suggest that anyone with a broader build should size up. 

Arc’teryx Zeta FL Jacket:

• Articulated hood and gusseted underarms for unrestricted mobility
• Hybrid elastic-straight hem and wrist cuffs for weight savings with a secure fit
• Hood that rolls and snaps out of the way and a stiffened hood brim
• Two handwarmer pockets with waterproof zippers
• A slim fit, which makes it ideal for warmer weather use where you don’t need to layer over insulation
• Waterproof-breathable fabric with taped seams and water-resistant zippers

Arc’teryx Zeta SL Pants:

• Zippered fly that snaps
• Three-quarter-length water-resistant leg zippers
• Gusseted crotch that won’t hinder mobility
• Internal adjuster in the waistband
• Reinforced fabric on the instep for added durability
• Waterproof-breathable fabric with taped seams and water-resistant zippers

Because I live in the Southwest, I don’t find myself using rain pants very often. But compared with a few others I’ve used from brands like Marmot and Patagonia, the Zeta SL’s are the best. I love the slimmer fit and comfortable feel against the skin. Similarly, the Zeta FL will become my new go-to rain jacket for hiking. It’s proved its ability to withstand the elements and, similar to the pants, it’s just really comfortable to wear. If you’re on a budget, there are other rain sets I would recommend that work well enough and cost a lot less. But if you want rain gear that’s comfortable, will keep you dry, and will last for years, I would recommend both these products. 

Buy Jacket Buy Pants 

>

When you buy something using the retail links in our stories, we earn an affiliate commission that helps pay for our work. Read more about Outside’s affiliate policy.

Whether you’re traveling by plane, train, or automobile, the process is inherently uncomfortable. Luckily, there’s a new breed of jacket on the market designed specifically for travel, blending the classic look of a blazer with a few key technical details that make going from here to there a little comfier. Wear one of these travel blazers and you’ll be comfortable and look good even on your longest travel days.

Bluffworks goes all in on the technical aspects of this blazer, constructing it from 100 percent polyester, which dries quickly, breathes well, and has plenty of stretch but still manages to feel lightweight. Ten pockets give you loads of storage for notebooks, phone, plane tickets, or snacks. Best of all, it’s legitimately wrinkle-resistant, so you can pull it out of your bag, give it a shake, and wear it with confidence.

Buy Now

---

This is the heaviest jacket on this list, making it perfect for winter trips when you want to look good right off the plane. It’s constructed from thick cotton with 2 percent spandex for an incredible amount of stretch. The bi-swing back adds mobility, and armpit gussets give it extra breathability. We love that this jacket has 11 pockets, some of which are zippered to keep items secure.

Buy Now

---

The construction of this jacket is split almost evenly between cotton denim and hemp. It’s unlined and lightweight, making it perfect for spring. A zippered chest pocket is big enough for your phone.

Buy Now

---

You can never go wrong with wool, which is naturally wrinkle-resistant and antimicrobial. The Everyday blazer is made from nine ounces of wool for a lightweight layer that’s versatile enough to wear to the coffee shop or a summer wedding. A bit of stretch helps make this classic blue blazer one of the most comfortable garments in your closet.

Buy Now

---

Eddie Bauer offers a few different travel blazers that we love, but the Departure is the most travel-ready. The mix of polyester and spandex with a DWR finish turns this blazer into a water-resistant layer. We liked the interior zippered pocket, which has an earbud port, but we were really won over by how this blazer packs into its own pocket for easy storage. If it gets wrinkled, just hang it in the bathroom while you take a hot shower and the creases will steam out.

Buy Now