Gear Review: Osprey Exos 46 Backpack

Image property of Osprey Packs Inc.

     I decided about a year ago to change the way I reviewed gear. Rather than give an incomplete review labeled as complete, give initial impressions. Then add to those with long-term results of actual use. The risk is that the gear would be obsolete by the time an in-depth honest review could be delivered. Or that the review would be obsolete because too many incomplete opinions would have muddied the waters. Oddly, what I've come to find out is that the great pieces of gear truly are timeless. They're stocked year after year. Maybe tweaked or redesigned, but they're still around. There are several of these in my inventory. Items that I still have use for even though my focus changes.

     The first of these is my first "lightweight" backpack. The Osprey Exos Series Packs have been around since at least 2009. That's when I purchased mine from REI. I was looking to reduce the weight of my "big 3" even back then. I had no idea of being an ultralighter, but my frame backpacks were 6+lbs. and 8+lbs. Something had to give. 

     My pack is a size large Exos 46 in Ember Orange. Which means plain grey with an orange design across the back, a few orange straps, foam, and on the floating lid. It needs to be said that pack color is very low on my priority chain. Grey and orange aren't ugly. They're just PLAIN when compared to the sexy black and green on my brother's Exos 58. As with most packs, the size large isn't just the torso length. It means an extra 3 liters capacity in the main storage compartment.  So make that a 49L pack. It weighs 2lbs, 7oz.

     About the frame; it's kind of an internal/external hybrid really. It has a pencil-thin 6061-T6 Aluminum powder coated frame that follows the contours (edges) of the pack. There are two wire thin support bars running horizontally just above mid-lumbar. They use "3D tensioned mesh" in the back panel that adds stability along with keeping the pack inches off of your mid-back. That's why they call it "Airspeed".  It's cool and sturdy. The bottom corners of the pack are reinforced with a much more abrasion resistant material. I find it interesting that after ditching my external frame pack in 1993, I've now come nearly full circle.

Showing off my burns after dumping 2 cups of boiling water down my leg.

     The pack is a top loader without internal pockets. It has a floating lid with a large external and a small internal zippered compartments. In addition to the main compartment there is an external side-zip compartment and a stretchy front pocket large enough for a wet groundcloth and tarp. There are matching mesh pockets on the hipbelt and a small stretchy pocket on the left shoulder strap( I can't define the intended use so I put my Albuterol inhaler there). They use 70D x 100D Shadowcheck for the main portions of the pack and 160 x 210 Window Ripstop for the stretch pocket. The entire back panel is mesh and as well as the side pockets(think water bottle holders). The harness straps are all "mesh covered slotted-foam Bio-Stretch".

     The setup of the pack in the last paragraph is my main reason for liking it, but I can't ignore the bells and whistles. It has them all. It's water bladder enabled, could carry an ice axe, trekking poles on back(with bungee and a nifty little Osprey attachment thingy) or in the easy to use "Stow on the Go(tm)" holders. There's the adjustable 4 position chest strap, the load on the go side water bottle pockets. Heck, they even put a whistle on the chest strap buckle. There's the obligatory key clip in the floating pocket, too. It has adjustable loops on bottom to hold a tent or sleeping pad(or packraft!). Each side has 2 compression straps that run in a "V". They are well placed with the lower threaded ingeniously through the side pockets.

Will posing, as only Will can do.

     All the cords, straps, and the harness seemed at first to be under-sized. The adjustable straps holding the lid, the compression straps, and the sleeping pad attachment points are 7mm flat webbing with tiny Osprey proprietary buckles. The shoulder and the waist straps(below padded areas) are flat webbing roughly 15mm and 19mm respectively. That is very small for a pack this size. The waist buckle is decidedly small but buckles at the small point of a "V" on both sides. You tighten it ergonomically by pulling the straps forward rather than backward. This assists in providing a snug fit. I carried comfortably to 33.75 lbs. before the inside edges of the shoulder straps began to hurt a bit. Even that was after hours of hiking.

     As with most packs, there are things that puzzle me. On this one, the shape of the airspeed suspension actually bows back into the main compartment. This means that the area along your back isn't even close to flat. Osprey actually put a zipper along the top(inside main compartment) where I guess you could stuff something like a water bladder or a piece of clothing if you wanted to dampen the air flow. I still scratch my head. 

     The thing about owning and using the same pack for three years is that my needs have changed. Last winter I used this pack because it was cold and my gear required more space than my frameless pack. Or when I need to carry some of my son's gear. Otherwise, I thought I was done with this one. Until I bought a packraft, that is. That requires nearly 10 lbs. of extra gear, with a raft(packed) the size of an old 2-man tent, a paddle, and a PFD. Now I have use for this pack again. It's big enough for an ultralighter with a packraft and 6 days of food. With lots of room left, I might add.

The Exos 46 on left, Osprey Hornet 46 on right. Notice lack of attachment points on Hornet.

As a pack for packrafting:

     The main body of the pack had room for all of my gear including 6 days of food. I use the sleeping pad straps on bottom to hold the (packed) raft. Although the 7mm straps appear a little skimpy, there is little movement of the 6 lb. raft. The attachment points show no wear. The PFD goes inside the main compartment. The 4-piece paddle is broken down, with the paddle ends placed paddle side down in the stretchy stuff pocket. The ends stick out at angles, but don't interfere with usability. I use the water bottle pocket on one side for the 2 paddle tubes. Those slip behind the compression straps with very little movement. Regarding attachment to the boat; The pack length is nearly perfect. My pack-it system cords cross the middle of the main compartment. By storing a tarp or rain gear there the cords compress around a bulge, reducing slip back and forth.

Posing the Exos 46!

My conclusion:

     The Exos 46 is the perfect size for a traditional packer intent on transitioning to lightweight packing. The harness is surprisingly comfortable given the lack of padding and bulk. Although there are signs of wear on the bottom edge where the main body meets the frame, it is reinforced and will hold up indefinitely. This pack has seen over 500 miles of trail. I can't believe that as I type it. Lots of memories. It's been on the Appalachian Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. It's seen the Buffalo River, the Flathead River, and half of the Ozark Highlands Trail. Several packrafting trips in Montana and Alabama. And it's been MONEY. Never have my friends heard me complain about it. NEVER. I'm not sure I could say that about any other gear I own. The answer to the main question(the only question) is; YES, I advised my friends to look at this pack. Two of them now own one(Exos 58's in both cases). That being said, I will leave you with the pros and cons, as is my way.

Will with his sexy black Exos 58

Pros: 

     It's very lightweight for a pack to carry up to about 35 lbs. It's built for exactly the strength you need, not what looks bomber. The floating lid is removable. Water bottle holders can be "stuffed" while you wear the pack. "Stow on the go" works great if you need to ditch poles for scrambling. There's not excess material to gather water when it rains. vertically zippered pocket can hold rain gear for easy access. Stretch pocket easy to stuff a wet fly or other gear into. Large hip pockets with pull tabs. No excess strap weight, they're thin, but strong. This could be the perfect pack series for someone transitioning to lightweight backpacking.

Cons: 

     It could be lighter if they removed the zippered vertical pocket, and zipper dividing the airspeed frame from the back panel. A slightly beefier belt buckle would help slightly larger waisted hikers. The torso has no adjustments, so make sure you get the right sized pack. Grey is too plain, buy the black one. The stow attachments for trekking poles aren't removable without cutting(I always use my poles). Due to the airspeed suspension, the main compartment is odd shaped. Above 35 lbs. the shoulder and waist straps are too meager. With a full pack, the water holsters are a bit difficult to load. 

The Legends Packraft the South Flathead(MT)

     As is our habit, our crew planned one blow-out trip this year. A reunion of sorts that is open to as many as possible. Due to a move, a deployment, and an impending marriage, this time it was just three of us. The Scopas and I on a packrafting trip in Montana's Bob Marshall Wilderness. We planned multiple trip options to be decided upon when I arrived in Great Falls. We needed to have good(enough) water for our 7 day, 6 night trip. Our likely candidates were the South Fork of the Flathead and the South Fork of the Sun.

     Plan A was start at Lodgepole TH on the south side, hike to Youngs Creek, float to White River then hump back over White River Pass. Then we could have floated out to Gibson Reservoir on the Sun River. Plan B was to start at Benchmark TH hiking over Observation Pass to Danaher Creek, floating down to the Flathead and back out over White River Pass or Larch Hill Pass. These were ambitious for us. My packrafting experience is limited and it had been several years since I carried a 30+ pound pack. Not to mention that any altitude over 6000ft. seems to upset my stomach. 

     The trip got off to a halting start as my initial flight was delayed and I ended up arriving 7 hours late, and to Helena, not Great Falls. Thank you Delta. While I was enjoying a 4 hour layover in Minneapolis, Amanda sent me some links about fires in the Benchmark area. As we looked at the maps, we realized that it was back to the drawing board. Now our shuttles would have to drive a lot farther on both ends. Think adding 3 hours each way to an already 2 hour drive. Yuck. 

     After perusing the maps all afternoon in the airport and about 4 hours in Scopa's living room, we made a decision. In at Lodgepole Creek TH, over Youngs Pass to Youngs Creek, hoping to float from a trail crossing 1 mile down from Hahn ranger station. Then 3+ days on the South Fork of the Flathead, walking back out over the Swan Range to the west at Wire TH. Projected mileage about 19 miles on foot, 64 on water, and 19 miles back out on foot. This would make it my longest backcountry trip. The entire South Fork on my boat's maiden voyage! This is surely the stuff of legend.

Day 1:

     Andy dropped us off at the Lodgepole Creek TH about 1:00 P.M. on Sunday, August 5th. After a departure photo, we took to trail with relish. My 33.75 lb. pack wasn't that bad after all. My phobia for carrying heavy weights kept me lighter than even Amanda. Sure, it could have been lighter, but this was the perfect trip to test my MLD Trailstar.

     The trail up to Youngs Pass is wide and easy to follow. It's an area that has burned in the last several years so there was no shade for those first 4 miles. Despite this, it was still very pretty due to the abundance of purple Fireweed blooms. And even though it was nearly 90F,  it didn't feel bad to a southerner like me. Youngs Pass itself is very wide so it didn't feel like I'd accomplished much when we rested atop. Amanda stripped one foot to discover that a hot spot was really a torn open blister. Bad start for her! Scopa taped her up and we moved down into the valley following Jenny Creek for the next 5 miles or so until camping at the first flat spot we came to. There was a group of about 18 right next to Youngs Creek so we kept our distance. 

Day 2:

     Up with the Sun and onward within 2 hours(I know, I know). Our goal was to walk the 9 miles to Hahn cabin and floatable water by early afternoon. The pace was decent but poor Amanda was having issues with her heel. Her faithful husband piggybacked her across about 6 water crossings that day while I carried her pack. Keeping her foot dry was tough that day. Several hours after lunch we arrived at Hahn to find it shut up. We had hoped for fire updates. Oh well,  the only indication we saw was haze on the mountaintops north of us in the valley. Within a mile of Hahn we found floatable water. Time to inflate our vessels.

     The water was clear and beautiful. We dragged more than I would have enjoyed, but it was a pleasant, breezy day. There were probably 20 fly fishermen on the banks that afternoon in the next 5 miles. It didn't bother me, just surprised me. After all, it was about 14 miles to the nearest trailhead. There were some slight rapids in this section. It was good practice in boat handling. At higher water it would have been VERY interesting. We paddled a lot more than expected and exited our boats to pass by shallows a lot. Eventually we came to the confluence with Danaher Creek to find a half dozen other inflatables. There was a 2-man NRS, multiple Sevylor inflatable kayaks, and one Sotar Kayak. We talked with a great group of guys there. A couple even took our Alpackas for test paddles. Their jaws dropped when I told them our total pack weights were 33-37 lbs. The Sotar alone weighed more than that!

     We set up camp on the east side of the Flathead, enjoying our freezer bag cooking. I played with some new rice sides. The Scopas ate much better than I for the entire trip. Maybe I'm too lazy to prepare good menus. 

Day 3:

     Up at dawn again, and paddling the mighty Flathead. We were very excited at this point. The valley was wide and gorgeous mountain vistas surrounded us. We made steady progress for less than half an hour before the first of several portages around logjams. It was an amazing sight to see all those long, straight pines stacked up like pick-em-up sticks in the river's bends. At least the boats weren't heavy like a canoe or kayak! After dragging most of the morning I actually said,"that's it, I'm done. I'm selling my boat. How disappointing." I guess I'm a baby about stuff like that. It was so frustrating to go so far away from home and have an experience just like my first canoe trip nearly 30 years ago. 

     Have no fear. After lunch ate those words. The water deepened and picked up speed. It was a dramatic change. We would find that each afternoon would be better than each morning. And each morning would be better than the previous afternoon. This river just gets better and better. Selecting lines is a skill that needs practice for a would-be packrafter. My skills are admittedly weak. This was only my third trip in a packraft anyway. Come to think about it, that's about all the Kayak experience I had as well. A lifetime in 2-man canoes doesn't prepare you for this. Scopa did a good job of providing mentorship without offending my notably prickly pride. Learning to ride wave trains and avoid holes helped a bit. Heck, I hadn't even known what gimbal meant. 

     We camped just after passing a spit rail fence on our left that was Salmon Forks Ranger cabin. Our camp area was a narrow shelf on the east side of the river. Scopa hung the bear bag while Amanda and I set up camp. We were done with plenty of daylight left. After eating, I relaxed by my tent and watched Scopa flyfish in the distance. It really is beautiful to watch. Too bad I don't fish. 

Day 4:

      The river beckoned us earlier this day. We wanted to get past Meadow Creek Gorge today. Not knowing if that meant a long portage or lots of scouting, we made good progress all day. Way over 3 miles per hour. Scopa carried our map (I carried our GPS)and we teased him mercifully for having it out so much. The truth is, it's much more difficult to keep up with your location on water than on land. Differing pace makes it easy to lose where you are. Traveling at the bottom of a valley means that your distant views are often obscured by low ridges. So eventually, I stopped teasing him about it and just thanked him for being so diligent.

     By mid-morning, we passed a packbridge with a sign marking the gorge 5 miles below there as dangerous. Goosebumps. That's all I can say to describe how excited we were to see that. My familiarity with my green Yak was improving so I wasn't even scared. Well, maybe a little anxious. I didn't even know we were starting the gorge until the first time I went involuntarily swimming in roaring water, frantically trying to grab my boat. It was a stupid play. The water ahead was calm after a decent sized rapid with 2 holes. I was so concerned with following their lines that I tried way to hard to get out of the main channel as they pulled off to take pictures. I made the rapid, then fought the current just to avoid leading through that section. Lesson learned.

     I went swimming 2 more times through the gorge. It was above my skill level by a bit. Amanda went over easy once after getting lodged between 2 rocks(and my boat). Again, bonehead play be me. Following too close to avoid having to pick my own line through what I thought was going to be difficult. I apologized profusely to be met with silence. Ouch! Lesson learned. Scopa handled everything this low water river had to throw at him. He only portaged one time through the gorge(and only after his wife strongly hinted that she expected him to). Even then, he walked downstream and had me push his boat through a 4' wide section of big rapids. Seems he wanted to learn what the water would make the boat do. It got lodged and he had to climb down into the jaws of death to dislodge it. It would have been funny if I wasn't standing beside his lip-biting wife.

    We emerged victorious from the gorge and camped at Cedar Flats. Scopa had lost the bear cord(in addition to 2 of our bear spray cans and my survival lanyard) so he fashioned a short rope and headed across-creek to hang our bags over the edge of the sandy bluff. It was a great idea. A bear would have likely been up there searching for it, looked down at us and said,"Oh well, I guess I'll have to eat them instead."

     We camped along a trail 20 steps into the woods in a small clearing. This night we pitched only my Trailstar and shared it. Room for 3, easy. That was the warmest night of the trip though and the bugs bothered me a bit that night. Deer flies don't bite as bloody as and Arkansas horsefly, but they reduce your comfort substantially. 

Day 5:

     We took our sweet time breaking camp this morning. A bit sore from all the hard paddling(and swimming) through the gorge the day before perhaps. We knew the water would help us cover ground fast. The only thing is we were also coming to the realization that our exit plan was going to be extremely uncomfortable for Amanda due to the angry flesh on her heel from Sunday's open blister. It's hard to keep it dry when you're in water all day. 

     I overturned my packraft after a nasty solitary hole that I should have avoided. The hole was about 3 feet deep with backflow making a loud sucking sound when the butt of my boat ended up there. It actually made me stationary, bouncing in place. When I paddled hard right to try to push out, the entire boat turned that direction and flipped me in an instant. I kept my paddle but couldn't grab the boat for about 30 yards downstream. And the water was moving fast. This one actually scared me a bit. Lesson learned; don't zig when you should zag.

     When we stopped for lunch, I removed all gear from my bag to make sure it was dry. My Zpacks liner drysack and Mountainfitter drysack kept all moisture at bay. The Lifeproof case for my iPhone worked seamlessly as well(there were about 3 drops inside it the previous day after the canyon). Using their Delorme Inreach in conjunction with an iPhone, we began making arrangements to be picked up about 4 miles into Hungry Horse Reservoir at Peters Creek Campground on the East Bank. This cut a full day off our trip and still we would have plenty of time to waste today. Scopa went fishing, Amanda laid in the sun, I laid in the shade. The UV index must have been high that afternoon. Once we finalized our extraction plan, we headed downriver a few miles to camp by the first road bridge on the river. There were some very friendly and generous trail angels camped beneath it. They gave Amanda first aid supplies and a Dr. Pepper, and Scopa and I adult beverages and ribs and chicken. We set up the Trailstar again and made a fire and dinner. Amanda crashed early while Scopa and I stayed up to put out the fire. It was a wondrously cool night.

Day 6: 

      This was the earliest we actually got in the water. Although we only lacked about 5-6 miles, there was no telling how much time the lake paddling was going to take. Our ride was scheduled for noon. It was the coolest morning by far on the trip. Maybe low 50's. No sooner than we got in the water Amanda found the fast channel along the east bank and hit a rock, spilling her into the water. It wasn't a spectacular crash like mine, but soaked her nonetheless. After hearing her teeth chatter 15 minutes later, we pulled off to build a fire and dry her out a bit. She took it with good cheer and appreciation. And she didn't even complain about being wet or cold. Tough gal!

     Within an hour we were paddling on the calm, wide water of Hungry Horse Reservoir. It was fairly slow going. We took a few breaks before a slight headwind picked up. Scopa even enticed me to try to create a sail for our boats with my Trailstar. Failure. We deduced that a large kite would be the only practical way to pull yourself across calm water. The headwind made breaks counter-productive, so there was little choice but to paddle non-stop. Our top speed on the lake was about 1.5 miles per hour. Do the math on that one and you'll realize that we paddled non-stop for about 2.5 hours or so. Precisely 2 strokes short of making my arms fall off. Scopa's navigation led us directly to Peters Creek campground. We had a short swim/bath to remove stench before a long car ride back to Great Falls. Max arrived as we were deflating rafts and packing up. 

     As we began our trip back from the wilderness, I fell from consciousness. Oddly, I dreamed that the trip went on. One of the things I find about true wilderness is that it either gives me a slight sense of unease or a craving for continuation. This time, I wanted nothing more than to plan the next trip back into the "Bob".  I lament that the GPX file from my Garmin was corrupt so I can't show you our route. The simple version is 19 miles walking to water, 5 floating Youngs Creek, 60 miles floating the South Fork of the Flathead, and 4 miles across Hungry Horse Reservoir. Most of those miles across pristine wilderness. The trip of a lifetime. Thanks to the Scopas, the Poyes,  the Kelsos , and Jeff Gravatt for making it happen for me.

Lessons and Observations; Lifeproof cases for iPhones do keep water out. Keep GPS off when you know you won't get a signal(battery) and touch screen not rubbing anything(battery). Clip bear spray to pack when rafting & portaging. Trailstar makes a poor sail, but worked well and slept 3. Carry backup bear line. Beef Rice Sides need meat too. Delorme Inreach really works. Cairn Map of Bob much better than Forest Service map. Flatwater packrafting is hard. Tape Amanda's heel before first step on trail. Be thankful for such great friends. Carry a dedicated water shoe(barefoot runners worked for them).

Trip Report: Ouachita Trail, Section 6

Click here to view these pictures larger

When the Holidays roll around, so do out-of state friends. So the crew was back together and we wanted something different. The Ouachita National Recreation Trail(OT) is in our home state of Arkansas. This was to be my first trip on it. The trail runs 223 miles from Talimena State Park in Oklahoma to Pinnacle Mountain State Park near Little Rock, Arkansas. Unlike the Ozark Highlands Trail, it is actually protected from clear cuts in the National Forests by law. I'm sure that many of you think of the National Forests as parks. What they really are is publicly owned resource management areas. Timbering, oil and gas exploration, etc. are the real purpose. It just so happens that they are still open to recreational use. This suits me perfectly. No permits needed for backcountry access. This is where they beat the National Park System.
     Anyway, we chose this 17.1 mile section for a reason. It is one of the shortest sections, has less up/down, multiple shelters, and was equidistantly located from our relative homes. We required an easier hike since we were breaking in a new hiker. My buddy has this girl, ya know? He told me it was important(to him) for her to enjoy the trip. Maybe he has long range plans with this one. So we all agreed on a simple trek with old friends. Six hikers in all.
     We planned to meet Will at the trailhead along Hiway 298 before 5:00 P.M. and drop one vehicle there, another several miles back up for the trail for an early exit option for our new compatriot. Then dropping the third at the trailhead on Hiway 27(mile 121.7). This got us off the pavement by around 6:00 P.M., or dark-thirty. We only needed a one mile uphill night-hike to get us to the James Archer Shelter(mile 122.6).
     With so many hikers all alighting from one pickup truck, it took a while to get our packs loaded up. You know how it goes. People digging out headlamps, gaiters and trekking poles. Stowing phones and filling extra water bottles(no water source until the next morning). Even loading up borrowed gear. THIS is why I don't recommend night starts with large groups.
     There was a bright moon out so I brought up the rear and never even used my headlamp. I'm very comfortable and have good trail eyes anyway. I had to laugh when Sara(our newbie) was actually trying to avoid stepping in a bit of (shallow)mud. I'm not picking on her, just noting that what we think is normal is odd to others. We arrived at the shelter and claimed our spots. It was a beautiful shelter. Nicer than any we saw in North Carolina last spring on the AT.
     Will, Scopa, and I gathered up wood and got a fire going while Turtle entertained the ladies. He's good at it. By the time we got settled in, Sara was huddling in her bag to stay warm. It was probably about 40 degrees F. It just goes to show that although jeans and a sweatshirt will work, they aren't ideal. She was game to come out when the fire got cranked up a bit. We ate and told stories until about 10:00 P.M.
     Shelter floors are much harder than the ground in my experience. I MUST remember to bring an inflatable mattress next time I plan on sleeping on hard wood.  It dropped down to about freezing that night and I was just a tad chilly. But only enough for one potty-break in the night. We all slept in until nearly 8:00 A.M. I guess we were waiting for the Sun to wake us up. It stays dark much longer in a northward facing roofed shelter.
     Scopa and Turtle boiled water for us while the rest of us broke camp. Now that it was daylight, you could tell that the trail follows a ridge for most of it's length. This also differentiates it from trails in the Ozarks. Up there, the old mountaineers all ,"so used to running up mountains, down valleys, when they get to flatlands, one leg is too long." All day long, our elevation would stay between 900-1450 ft.
     We came to one of only 2 good watering spots for our entire hike within the first mile. I didn't see a name for it on our map. It was an 10 inch deep, smooth running brook that we crossed foot dry by finding a log. Most data sources I found say that it dries up in the summer months. But the Ouachitas had plenty of rain in December.  The trail crosses a forest road after 1.5 miles from the shelter, then it begins a long, snake-like path upwards for about 500+ ft. within the next 1.5 miles. This is the toughest part of this section.
     I brought up the rear until I couldn't stand it any longer. I don't mind hiking at the pace of slower hikers until it uses energy just to slow down my steps. So I settled into a rhythm of hiking until my followers were nearly out of sight, then slowing down on the easier portions of the climb. Will and the Scopas seemed to be doing the same with me. This is where I really started to take notice of my surroundings. The trail had far less rocks in it than we see in the Ozarks, with lots of pine needles padding our feet. I love a pine forest for hiking through. There was just enough hardwoods that the view opened up nicely to the North. You just can't beat a mountain view after leaf-off.
     We stopped for lunch after about 4.5 miles of hiking, on Sandlick Mountain. Our mileage was a bit disappointing, but we started late and  had already finished the toughest part of the weekend's hike. I knew then that Turtle and Sara would be using the early cut-out where we parked his truck. But it didn't matter to any of us. We had lots of time to talk while we breaked. Sara was a trooper. The weather was in the 50's, so there was a lot of de-layering going on all day. Then re-layering for our longer breaks.
     After eating our Ramen and GORP respectively, we proceeded down the mountain for another mile or so. There we found Irons Fork Creek, which runs all year long. This is the ONLY sure water spot on this section of the trail. It is wide and deep, but has a concrete low-water bridge on it. We were able to cross feet-dry because there was only a trickle going over the top of it. We all camel'd up and refilled all of our water bottles here. All of us guys were carrying 4 liters of water from that point on. According to everything I had read, there might not be any more water available. There wasn't between there and the next shelter, at Big Branch.
     But we didn't even make it that far anyway. The climb out of the Irons Fork basin seemed to tucker out poor Sara. She probably only weighs 110 soaking wet anyway. Scopa(trail named "Burro") carried her pack up that hill, and we found a mountain top campsite about 100 yards South of the trail. There was lots of rocks to be moved before we could set up our 4 tents. But there was a remnant of an old fire ring, so we settled in nicely. It was way before dark, so gathering wood was very easy. I started a fire while Turtle started to make dinner and Will gathered wood. These guys really like their campfires.
     We looked at the map and planned our next day. Turtle and Sara decided to just hike to their truck at the North crossing of CR 78, while the rest of us pushed on to Will's car at the trailhead. We would be going 4 miles further than them so decided on an early start. We ate dinner before dark and Turtle and Sara sacked out while the sun was still up. It wasn't even cold! I guess we wore them out. The rest of us sat around the fire drying our moist socks and warming our bare feet for hours. We turned in before 9:00 ourselves. They don't call 9 O'clock "backpackers' midnight" for nothing.
     It got a lot colder that night. I got hot enough to sweat in my bag within 20 minutes, then shivered the rest of the night. I think I was too well hydrated if you know what I mean. I finally gave up on sleep at about a quarter to 6. I woke up the other guys and we lit out before sunup with our lamps blazing. We didn't need them by the time we stopped to de-layer. It was smooth sailing down the trail. Breakfast en route. There was only a little up-hill left before basically downhill to the end. We passed their truck by 8:00 A.M. and made a bet amongst ourselves whether they had even got out of their bags yet.
     We slackpacked from there, hustling through the remaining trail(5 miles) by 10:00A.M. It was really a refreshing hike, with our first views southward. I worked up a good sweat, but didn't worry about chilling that close to the end. Scopa carried my ULA CDT pack with our water. He wanted to give it a go since he had never worn a frameless pack before. I think he didn't care for the lack of air flow on his back. Will shuttled me back to my truck and we all returned to Turtle's truck about 5 minutes before our wayward friends arrived. Perfect timing. We all ate a big, greasy meal at this little country store in Story, AR. FYI, that store actually does some shuttling. Will has the number, so maybe he will leave it in the comments.
     We all had a great time on a relaxing trip. It reminded me that we don't have to challenge ourselves every time out. Just being out there is good enough. Save the challenges for times when you need the extra miles to make a trip even possible. Savor the companionship of allowing new hikers to join your party. Relish the teaching moments with the newbies. Just imagine the day when they might be teaching the next generation of outdoorsmen.

Guidebook Used: Ouachita Trail Guide by Tim Ernst

Guest Post- Amanda Scopa-What it's like being an Outdoorsman's wife?

I'd like to introduce a great friend. She's the "cool wife" of one of my best friends- a longtime hiking companion. It recently dawned on me that she might be an untapped resource. She has always seemed supportive of his outdoor pursuits(backpacking, climbing, cycling, kayaking, sailing, and Scoutmaster-ing). He does it all, and she does it with him sometimes. But she rarely puts the brakes on one of our trips. For that, she has my admiration and thanks. So I asked her to explain what it was like, and what were her motivations for the support. Here she is... Amanda Scopa!

What it's like being an Outdoorsman's wife?

by Amanda Scopa

     Does your garage look like an outdoors store? Is your spouse frequently mentioning new gear that needs to be added to the collection?  Could you outfit a group of people with gear to go hiking, kayaking, rock climbing, skiing, snowboarding, or fishing?  If so, you might be married to an outdoorsman, or be an outdoorsman.  This is a different type of post. It is about being married to an obsessed outdoorsman.  Now "obsessed" might bring about a negative connotation to most, but that is not the truth. It just means he is dedicated.  A true outdoorsman goes out no matter the weather report, no matter the looks he gets from less dedicated friends or his wife (myself included).  Being a wife to an outdoorsman brings excitement, exhaustion from trying to keep up, and truly a life you can look back on with no regrets.  

     Overall, I have been told that I am the "cool wife" so I may not be objective in telling the story of being married to my outdoor loving husband.  Although I do like being outdoors myself, mostly it is the views I go for.  If the weather is cold or rainy, I would rather curl up with a good book, or a movie next to a fire and let my crazed husband go on his own.  Unfortunately good therapists, marriage books, and even my gut instinct tells me that every once in a while I should.  To understand this reasoning you have to know my husband and know that he is so much more satisfied in our marriage when I do go.

     Frank is the most dedicated, fun loving, trustworthy, friend and partner in life.  Between his search for adventure and wanting to live his life to the fullest, he stays pretty busy.  Not to mention we have an almost two year old son and a career that sometimes wants to suck the life out of him.  Sometimes life gets in the way of Frank.  The Frank I know and love is a laid back person that wants to live his life to the fullest.  So much so at the end of it he wants to be is exhausted, because everyone knows "You can rest when you're dead."  I know it's time to get him outside when he seems down and out, gets frustrated easily, and he comes home talking about work a little too negatively. This I have found is true for most outdoorsmen.

     The key is most people do not understand what it is like to shut the phone off, remove oneself from the constant drama of life, and experience true peace in the sounds of the woods.  As someone that does like to get out and take her fair share of pictures of nature I can try to encompass what it feels like, but probably won't come close.  Take my advice and go out and experience it yourself, even if just for the day (can I please say don't go on a trail that has 400 other visitors, it misses the purpose).  The following is my attempt at giving you a glimpse at the wonderland of nature and why these men and women love it so much.

     There is a transformation that happens the second your car has been parked at a trailhead, and you start hiking down a well worn path or even a barely distinguished trail.  A moment of excitement on what the journey will bring, and then a split second of here goes nothing.  Plus, without all the noise of town suddenly your ears seem to perk up and you hear noises you are sure weren't there a second beforehand.  Then the final thing that I always  notice is this deep breath I take.  Like it is my first breath of a new life for a few days, when all of the problems or stressors I'm dealing with fade, because it doesn't matter out here.  You feel stronger, more relaxed, and whether there is easy conversation or not it is nice having a little fellowship of friends experiencing the adventure ahead. But it's not just the trip itself.  There's the planning and anticipation at the beginning, at the end there are all the great stories to be retold.  And no trip would be complete without a great meal at some hole-in-the-wall diner, all the better because you just truly accomplished something.  An outdoorsman will savor each aspect of the trip and make its enjoyment last much longer than the time spent in the woods.   You have survived by your own hand and led your feet so that your eyes could see breathtaking vistas and maybe even a little wildlife.  Plus at the end you look back on those moments of hard hills that were climbed and realized you appreciate the fact your body was able to summit those hills.  

     What I love about being an outdoorsman's wife is that life is never boring.  Let me repeat that, never boring.  Now there are hard moments of being an outdoorsman's wife when all you really want to do is hang out at home or cook a good meal.  Then your beloved significant other expresses the need to go visit the woods.  For the most part I try to remember that I am not a true outdoors girl, and that those moments of solitude in the woods are not my survival methods for dealing with daily life, but they are my husband's.  The thing to remember is that if he can go out and cope with his stresses then he is going to come back so much happier, a better husband and father because he has decompressed.  Plus he is grateful that you are understanding enough to let him go and experience his other love, God's creation.  And who can argue with that?

Step 1 to a lighter pack; understand what you are, and what you want to be.

     This past week I had several non-hikers ask me questions about what I actually do in the woods. When I tell stories about trips they actually stare at me with a complete lack of understanding. It seems as if they are enthralled by the idea of heading deep into the more beautiful spaces on our planet, but have no idea how to get there. The stories hikers tell begin with the sublime and end bordering on insanity. There is both solace and glamour. And there are many who would love to see what we see. They just don't know how. So this post is a return to the beginning for me as a blogger. I wanted to pass on knowledge to aspiring outdoorsman. And to preach about the virtues of doing it with less weight on their backs.

     Some think that being "lightweight" is the goal. But it's just not that simple for most. My brother, for instance thinks in terms of dollars spent and the functionality of his gear. Another buddy seems to believe that he simply "can't" get away with carrying less. I contend that the opposite approach may be the simplest. Suppose you started by writing down exactly what you would need to go for a walk in a park. Then you added what you would need if that were an all day walk in the woods. Hmmm.... then you added what you would need if you decided to sleep in the woods that night. For survival, that is. Maybe THEN you consider a trip lasting multiple nights in the woods. My guess is that only then would you begin adding what an ultralighter would consider luxury items. This is supposed to be each person's journey. They should decide what is mandatory and what can be dispensed with.

     Here's an example; when you decide that your daily walk in the park is going to become a day hike into the backcountry. All of a sudden, you need water. And shed those tennis shoes, too. But do you need full on mountaineering boots? Not really. Just something with better rigidity and grip. Also, you may need a snack or lunch. Maybe a jacket(or raincoat) if the weather is going to change at all before you get back. You'll be hiking further away from safety after all. That being said, you would be wise to carry along a compass and a map. So, in review, you now have different shoes, a jacket, some food and water, and navigation materials. Oh, and a pack to carry them in. That doesn't have to be all conclusive. It's just an example of thinking only in terms of what you NEED. 

     The same idea can be applied when you decide to camp overnight in the course of your hike. Now you need more water(or water treatment), more food(and something to cook with-if you choose to cook), a shelter, and a sleeping system(bag and mattress). A knife, a light source, and a firestarter too. That's just for survival. In practicality, you would likely want to brush teeth, take vitamins, use toilet paper, etc. These weren't requirements, they were desires. I'm all for these types of concessions. 

     It's just that I firmly believe that we should be adding to our packs from empty as we find new needs. Not subtracting from them as we dare. This is the key to shedding pack weight. It's a mindset that most don't have. I didn't when I began this journey. It's a skill that one picks up when creating their own packing list. Shoot, I'm an Eagle Scout trained in being prepared for anything. The packing lists found in my old Boy Scout Handbook were filled with more redundancy than I could physically carry. Recognizing the liability that the Boy Scouts of America have is the only way to view their training. I get it. But it doesn't eliminate the opportunity to search for new approaches. 

     The mainstream outdoor press and manufacturers don't really help the situation. Sure, they can get new people into the outdoors with some degree of safety. Again, I say it's not just about that. Having the latest North Face or Patagonia gear doesn't qualify one to be in the backcountry. Common sense, research, and skill development do. So the various outdoor education organizations are doing a service, if not fully divulging the secrets. It seems their approach is to let the rookie outdoorsman learn the hard way. You know,"carry this 40 lb. pack just in case you need 40 lbs. of gear." I mean there's no fashion police in the woods to inform you that you can't wear the same pair of pants twice. Or that your tent HAS to be a dome. Even that your pack needs to have a frame. 

     By all means mimic the people you see going before you. Just don't give in to the concept that they possess the only "right" way. Read gear reviews and trip reports. Find the outdoor site that grabs your attention and figure out what books they read. Soak it all in. Take some dayhikes. Talk your buddies into camping trips. experiment with clothing in different weather conditions. Even if you're just going to a football game. 

     Borrow gear and practice camping in your backyard. Every time you need another piece of gear go inside and get it. You'll determine that you don't absolutely have to carry everything you'd imagined. It's a lot like going to visit family out of town. You could check in at a hotel if you wanted, but you might settle instead on a couch. Those are the same types of concessions you make when you attempt to reduce the amount of gear on your back. I don't carry a huge air mattress to sleep on. It's just a piece of closed cell foam(CCF). But every step I take all day long is easier for it. Others choose to carry a heavier mattress and eliminate gear elsewhere.

      The key advice I have for a new backpacker(or one attempting to get lighter) is to understand their own needs, desires, and abilities. Learn more, and take things slowly. Don't go shopping until you're sure of what you want. Don't copy without asking around if something doesn't seem right. Ask questions about everything. "Why do I need that kind of water storage device?" Begin weighing your gear. Knowing what is weighing your pack down is the key to staying light and fast. Write down everything, and you will be amazed at your progression within months. Mostly, just try new things at the edge of your capabilities. That's where real adventure is. 

New Year's Trip to the Buffalo River

My brother "Will" came up for New Years for a fun weekend. We joined our big brother at a borrowed cabin at the lake for a fun family event. The cabin was gorgeous, had a million square feet of decks, and was completely stifling because my nieces insisted on a fire on a 65 degree day. I'm not kidding you. It was nearly 80 degrees in there at bedtime. Will and I elected to sleep on the deck even though it was gusting 30+ m.p.h. winds. It stayed above 40F all night. Glorious.
    We had decided on driving to Steel Creek on the Buffalo National River on New Year's morn. So we shuttled my truck to Kyle's Landing and doubled back. On the trail by 11:00 A.M. or so. Our plan was the Buffalo River Trail(BRT) to the Slatey Place before turning off down to Horsehoe Bend, where there is a barn we could sleep in if we wanted beside the river. The next morning, hike back up the mountain to rejoin the BRT and finish out at Kyles Landing.
     Both of us have hiked nearly every foot of trail in the Buffalo River valley upstream of Erbie. We spent many summers working at Camp Orr Adventure Base staff. Nine for me and I think six for him. We know and love the area. I hadn't been in this area for two years. For him it was more like eight I think. It's like our second home.
     The first thing we noticed having changed was the road into Steel Creek. It is now paved all the way to the campgrounds. It must have been the first time I have thanked our government for creating the Gi-normous slush fund that was the "Stimulus Bill". First or second, I have no idea. But needless to say, I doubt I'll complain about them cutting funds to the National Park system. Now I'll complain about how they spend their funding. Enough about that. I may even scratch it later. I don't endeavor to wax politic on this blog. I like talking about wonderful things. The paved road was wonderful. Especially for my brother's BMW.
     The BRT climbs out of Steel Creek campsite at about 1000 ft. elevation. It is a steep wall to the valley for much of the duration of the river. This river is a fantastic float, too. The stuff postcards are made of.  The trail jumps up to 1250 ft. within about a mile before crossing Steel Creek. Steel Creek is a beautiful, shallow and clear running stream that flows into the Buffalo. We crossed it feet-dry by rock jumping. Rock jumping is one of my weak spots as a hiker. I nearly always get an ankle wet somehow. Trekking poles help me balance though.

Steel Creek Campground, Bee Bluff

     We continued back up the next mountain, which is steep in some places. The trail is notoriously rocky around there. But it yielded a splendid view of the river and the campground and Roark Bluff within another mile. I was huffing and puffing by the overlook. We were on the top of Bee Bluff at this point. I stopped for pictures and a breather. Will gets impatient with my camera stops. Oh well, he sure likes when I upload the pics.

Poser.

     We felt a bit of a time squeeze due to our late start. So we kept moving at a pretty good clip, as we still had about 6 miles to go. Due to the leaf-off there were more overlook areas than even marked on the map. All facing some version of North and spotlighting the valley. The next marked overlook was at mile 3 of our journey. This one views downstream to the next bend or upstream to Big Bluff which stands 500 feet tall! It really is impressive, in an area with elevations only ranging from 1000-2600 feet.

     We crossed water again at Beech Creek, which is mostly a rocky ravine, with big drops off below us.  There was a couple hiking the other direction around there. They were looking at a map, but didn't ask us anything as we went through. The day had cooled a bit requiring a jacket for stops. Lunch was late for us, maybe 2:00 P.M. or so. Will made ramen, while I chewed on GORP and a granola bar. I knew it was going to kill my appetite for dinner. The first night of a hike usually does that anyway. I have no explanation for it.

Big Bluff in the background. Posers in the foreground.

     We peaked out at about 1750 ft. near the Slatey Place, which has a murky looking pond and multiple trails to choose from. They are signed if you pay attention. Here we turned off the BRT and headed down to Horseshoe Bend. This is a steep descent of about 800 ft. in 1.5 miles. All I could think about was having to hike back up the next day. I'd never hiked it that direction before, and wasn't looking forward to it. Last time, we elected to wade about 7 river crossings on the Old River Trail (ORT) in order to avoid it.

Lockhead Barn

     Time moves quickly downhill. We hit the ORT in about 20 minutes, taking a right to Lockhead Barn, which is mis-marked on the map. From a distance, it looks exactly the same as it did 20 years ago when I slept in the loft with a group of staff members. Up close, the roof is sagging, as is the loft. It was still sturdy, but slopes a bit much for my liking. We were trying to decide where to set up camp when Will stopped for a cat-hole break. He came back and said,"follow me".  On the other side of the barn there was actually a cabin, without door or window glass. It had a river gravel floor. Our guess is that it was a well house. There was a small concrete slab in one corner with "1973" written in. In the center was a metal piece of pipe, cut off flush with the slab. The chinking was done with concrete as well.
***Edit: (The well house I described was actually a "bath house".)***

     About 100 yards from that cabin were the ruins of another one, much bigger. This one was complete with a large rock chimney and an adjoining cellar with a concrete roof. Our guess is that this one was built in the last 50 years. ***Edit: (This cabin was built in 1968 and burned in 1974.)*** But the stone foundations gave us an idea to it's purpose. Someone actually lived here. This was much too big for an individual. Maybe 20 feet by 40 feet. The chimney had metal inserts for heat dissipation and/or blowers. Behind the chimney about 30 feet a drain pipe led to a low area. And it was surrounded by cedar trees. Heaven.

Lockhead Homestead

     We made a fire against that hearth and did our cooking on a raised slab that appeared to have been the front porch. Then we sat around trying to keep warm. It was below freezing by bedtime. By early morning it was in the low 20's F. Cold. I was very uncomfortable that night in my 32 degree bag with a liner. Heck, in the morning, I refused to stir from my bag until my brother handed me my coffee.

...with coffee in reach...

     While eating breakfast, I talked Will out of hiking out of the valley the way we came in. That way we had only about 4 miles to get to my truck. But, if we took the Old River Trail, we'd get there in 2 miles. The only downside to the ORT is that we'd have 4 river crossings. With COLD water. Like usual, he gave me my way. We decided on 4 feet-wet crossings, with our shoes on. That would get us back to biscuits and gravy by 10:00 A.M.! I know, I'm a weenie. But I have a soft spot for real breakfast.
     Our first crossing was right below the barn, so we were wet immediately. As soon as we crossed I saw a group of 5+ backpackers by the barn. We yelled and waved, but they didn't even acknowledge us. Oh well, we were just juiced by the crotch deep cold water anyway. We set to task right out of the gate. The sights are better by the river anyway. The trail is much sandier, but there was little mud or underbrush this time of year. It's like walking in a huge riverbed. It's almost amazing that there is any vegetation in that valley for all the rocks you see.
     After our third crossing, we came to the Arbaugh House, which is a sturdily built 2-room cabin. It has a roofed front porch and 2 doors side by side. We looked around a bit and beat it out of there. Our feet were cold and our hearts were set on hot food. We encountered a group of three dayhikers at Kyles. They were headed to Indian Creek with what appeared to be an octogenarian clad in coveralls. But they were friendly and let us show them the map.
     It needs to be said that even though this was an in-and-out trip for us, there is plenty of oppportunities for exploring. The Slatey Place was an old homestead. The wellhouse at Lockhead farmsite is only one mile from Hemmed-In-Hollow, where resides the highest waterfall between the Rockies and the Appalachians. Indian Creek is only a couple miles back(and off of) the BRT. But those are different trips for me to tell you about another time. But this one was salve for the soul as far as we were concerned. A homecoming of sorts.

Map Used: Trails Illustrated: Buffalo National River West #232

Alternative Menu Planning(Stove-less)

     I'm piggybacking a great post from Hendrik Morkel at HikinginFinland.com. I am usually loathe to do such a thing, but he actually encouraged me to. Well, it's a post, and not just a comment. In Hendrik's post, he actually did some analysis on the efficiency of menu planning without a stove. Weight vs. weight.
     Mine is much less scientific. It's more about what you can gain from ditching your stove on an overnighter. Look at it like this; we need to eat on the trail to survive. Not to get fat, or to pamper ourselves.  To a lightweight hiker, these types of questions have answers only gained through trial and error. And no two participants will answer the same.
     I just need calories delivered in a form I can ingest. Sure, there's a difference in what my mojo requires for a week-long hike than for a quick solo(warm) overnighter. For a week long hike, it's coffee and oatmeal in the mornings, GORP for lunch, and a freeze dried dinner at night. Unless companions cook differently. There's no sense in holding up a group while I make coffee if they only want a cereal-heavy GORP for breakfast. If they make Ramen for lunch, then I might as well join them. Call in conforming, or call it accommodating.
     When alone, it's about my wants and needs only. And it's an ongoing experiment in what works. By looking through my collection of ziplocs in my pantry, I have deduced that I don't end up eating the oatmeal every day of the trip anyway. I invariably have 1-3 packages left each trip. I also never eat all of my snack foods. Sometimes a Mountain House meal will be leftover. But the GORP is always eaten and the coffee is always gone as well.
     What could be gleaned from this very un-scientific analysis? I eat GORP and drink coffee. Hmmm. I can live without the coffee. Could a man live on GORP alone? Yes. It has been proven. By a guy with 2 thumbs. This guy!

     I admit to stealing the idea from my good friend Scopa. He is fond of grazing GORP all day long. He usually eats a hot dinner, but why not steal the idea that struck me? By playing with the recipes, you can make it carb laden in the morning and at lunch and pack it with protein for dinner. It worked, but left me feeling like I was fasting a bit.  So I needed a better idea for a no-cook dinner.....

Creative Commons Image

     Why not? A sandwich(even a big one) will still weigh less than many cook systems. But let's get around to why I really wanted to pursue a stove-less menu in the first place. Time. I haven't enough of it. In my case, days off are split apart. Which leaves me little time to do what I want. So I can leave work at 3:00 P.M. on a Saturday and drive straight to a trailhead. But where? Where can I get my hike in. Trailheads require a bit of driving for me. Sometimes shuttling as well. But if I can use an additional 20-30 minutes per meal actually hiking, then my range of destinations opens up completely. Not to mention that I can save weight sometimes. It's not the most comforting of hiking trips, but it's more comforting than staying home and sleeping in. I still get outside.
     There's other options as well. The GORP for lunch can be replaced with a MetRx Meal Replacement Bar. Fresh fruit for breakfast. Anything that a hiker would actually eat. We won't die of starvation in 24 hours. Just take a good look at what you need, and what you've just convinced yourself that you need. I think you'll find that you've been sold a bill of goods by the gear manufacturers. Keep in mind, this is for 3 season weather in the Mid-South. I'm not burning calories keeping my body temperature up. I'm not melting snow for drinking water. Just figuring out how efficiency gets me and keeps me in the woods. Please let me know your angle on this discussion. We need to share our ideas.
 

It's not MYOG, It's CYOG(CUSTOMIZE your own gear)

I had been searching for the perfect gaiters for years. Probably the stoutest, most commonly used gaiters on the planet are the OR Crocodiles. But they seemed like overkill in terms of weight and sturdiness. They are as close to bombproof as a wearable fabric can be. And they are expensive. For what they are, anyways. So I kept my eye out for something similar, but lighter and cheaper. I stumbled upon a set made by Outdoor Designs, called the Tundra. I found them at a local outdoor gear store for $24.95. At that price, I was willing to give them a try. 

The listed features:

Waterproof breathable rear zip lightweight gaiter

Waterproof breathable 2 layer Watergate technologies fabric

Rear entry zip with jetted storm flap

Webbing underboot strap

Lace calf adjustment

This isn't a review, but I played with them on multiple weekend hikes and on a 4 day trip into the Bob. Also, I watched their performance on one of my hiking buddies for even more miles. In the meantime, I was able to observe the performance of the aforementioned OR Crocs on two other hiking buddies. What I decided was that in this case, you get what you pay for. The Tundras were very finicky, while the Crocs were robust and easy to use. The Tundras like to slip down on your leg, while the Crocs stand tall. The Tundras were a pain to remove and reinstall for wet foot crossings, while the Crocs wearers were waiting for us. Sure, the Tundras were lighter, but were giving up a lot of the versatility of the Crocs. I still think that the Crocs are a bit of overkill for what I need to protect my legs, though. I'm compelled to state that I am not really comparing "like" items here. Outdoor Designs makes many types of gaiters. But what I had in my possession were the Tundras. So, what could be done to gain some of the features and ease of use of the OR product? How about replacing the calf laces with shock cord and the zippers with velcro? That's what I did. Here's how I did it.

Outdoor Designs "Tundra" Gaiter

Showing Calf Lace

Showing Rear Mounted Zipper and Storm Flap.

These seams had to be removed, non-flap side.

View from inside, non-flap side.

It's not really Velcro!

It's not as easy as it looks, but I used a seam ripper to remove threads.

A bit trickier at the top, when zipper panel meets lace channel.

Dismantling the lace channel to remove upper end of zipper.

Who needs to measure?

The horizontal tab at the bottom of gaiter.

First seam.

I used a full polyester thread and had to be very careful with the needle on the "Rocketeer" in order to sew through several layers of fabric and a layer of Velcro. I had to hand sew the junction of the 2 pieces of Velcro. It was just a bit too many layers of fabric for my skimpy needle. Below, you can see already how difficult it was to sew a straight seam with the machine on Velcro sections.

I wasn't happy, but it got the job done. My mom wasn't available!

I used 2 seams on each piece of velcro, and an additional horizontal tab at the bottom of the gaiter to attach one side to the other. The picture shows this tab before I trimmed it to length.

Cutting off zipper teeth, leaving the rest of the panel.

After finishing the sewing, I tied a piece of shock cord to one end of the lace and just pulled it through. Using a toaster style cord lock, I secured both ends. This means that now, the wearer has to put a foot through this loop before installing the gaiter. I think it's a small price to pay for a more firm calf mount and better adjustability.

I tested one gaiter with these adjustments vs. the factory produced gaiter on section 6 of the OHT. I was pleased with the adjustments. The only observation my hiking partner had was that seeing one blue piece of Velcro showing on only one gaiter drove him crazy for almost 20 miles. I will now complete the other gaiter. It worked. But, I will admit that I asked for a pair of OR Crocs for Christmas. I guess I'm a hypocrite.