Gear Review: Mountain Hardwear Monkey Man Jacket

Two years ago I began a search for something that didn’t exist.  I wanted a fleece that would meet all of the following criteria:

1. It had to be warm.  No microfleece or powerstretch here.  This thing had to be my excuse for leaving the parka at home for everything short of a full-blown arctic expedition.

2.  It had to make me look like I had just skied Tuckermans’s Ravine backwards.  The Chris Sharmas, Eric Jacksons, Ed Veisteurs, and Bear Grylls of the world don’t wear Reebok or even Columbia.  They wear outdoor-elitist brands with arcane names like Arcteryx, Patagonia, Wild Things, and Marmot.  I wanted something that would fly under the radar for most people, but would shine like a beacon to the outdoor nerds around me and make them say, “he’s one of us.”  Incidentally, this would mask the fact that I lacked anything in the way of real elite outdoor skills.  

3.  It had to be discounted by at least 30%.  I’ve lived almost all of my income-bearing life in a post 9/11 world and as such I have developed a complex about discounts.  I can’t buy without them.  Seriously, what do shopping malls even exist for anymore?  I enter boutiques only to duck my way past the well-lit displays to find the dreary corner where they keep the clearance products.  10% off?  That’s only for the people that don’t care about how they spend their money.  20% off?  Oh please.  That’s the 2012 equivalent of full price.  30% off?  Now I’ll consider it, but I’m going to walk out of here feeling like I got hosed.  At 40% off, I’ll look hard, and debate for a while how likely this product is to show up on Steep&Cheap.com, Woot.com, or Craigslist, and then walk away empty-handed with a determination to wait until it gets discounted just one more time.  You guessed it.  I don’t successfully buy much.

This Bud's For You (but not for me)

Spring is arriving and the trees are beginning to bud.  Likwise, so are the ears of many a jogger, many a cyclist, and pretty much everyone under the age of 25.  Since the arrival of the iPod and its powerhouse marketing department, earbuds have become not only a hip way of listening to music on the run, but even a mode of fashion expression.  Wasn’t it just a few years ago that it was cooler to just walk with a fake limp and carry an entire stereo on your shoulder?  We’ve come a long way since Run DMC, but I’m concerned that by plugging our ears, we might be missing out on a lot of what happens between our temples. 

I visited an apple store last week, and after my eyes had adjusted to the glistening light of 1000 stainless steel products and packages, I made my way to the earphone racks.  There were the usual array of options – everything from low-profile ear buds to the weighty “Beats by Dre,” which I’m pretty sure are just repurposed chopper pilot headsets from the Vietnam War. 

What really got my attention, though, was that an entire rack was dedicated to earphones for “athletic use.”  I’m not surprised that manufacturers have caught on. Some of us want earphones that match our cute running outfits and that the rest of us think those iPod armbands make us look dangerous in a hip, tribal kind of way.  But a whole rack of athletic earbuds? 

Outdoor Sports: A Musical Review

No, I won’t be singing for you (you can put the earmuffs down).  Instead, since we’re still in the get-to-know-you period of this particular blog-lationship, I wanted to tell you a little about myself by combining two of my favorite things.   Nothing gets me more pumped up for having some fun in the outdoors than listening to just the right tunes as I lace up my boots.

For each of my outdoor interests listed below, I have chosen a musical artist to help me convey what the sport means to me.  Crank up the stereo and limber up, because here we go.

Road Biking – The Eagles

To borrow a line from Geo, the dear friend who introduced me to the world of spandex and saddle sores, “I hope that cycling can be my golf.”  Cycling is a blast right now, but my hope is that it will still be fun for me in another 30 years too.  After the cockpit of my kayak becomes to small for me to climb into without 3 assistants and a jar of mayonnaise…  after “climbing” becomes my term for going upstairs…  after the technology in my synthetic knees becomes more sophisticated than the technology in my mountain bike…  after all of my dearest hobbies have left me, I hope I can still get out on the bike.   

The Eagles are the same way.  The first CD that I ever owned was an Eagles CD that my big brother gave me for my 12^th birthday.  There’s something about a classic.  It just doesn’t wear out.  I still love the Eagles, and I probably always will. 

Road biking has a Zen quality – the silence of a perfectly tuned machine; the sensation of the wind, heavy with the aromas of the season, the concentration as your peripheral vision dims and you push yourself just a little harder…  Zen. 

At least until you pass some eviscerated forest creature on the side of the road.

Kayaking – Of Monsters and Men

It’s the flavor of the week.  I know.  But I desperately hope for it to be something that lasts.  How long will my shoulders put up with what it takes to roll in white water?  I’m not sure.  Will I ever learn to start down the river without forgetting the keys to the takeout vehicle?  Again, no promises.  But I hope so. 

Wilderness Worst Responder

If I do the math I think I’ve spent about a year of my life on the trail.  I’ve hiked the 46 high peaks in New York.  I’ve been on canoe trips in the lonely lakes of Canada’s Algonquin National Park.  I’ve paddled the Allagash, the Kennebec, the Dead, the Sacandaga, and the Hudson.  I’ve had pack sores, I’ve had blisters, I’ve had hypothermia, I’ve been lost in the dark, I’ve been dehydrated, I’ve been lost in broad daylight, and I’ve even had an axe wound – all in the middle of nowhere.  I’ve always come out ok.  Suffice it to say, this is not my first rodeo. 

It turns out though, that I’m one stupid cowboy. 

This spring, I have been learning to kayak.  Did you know these things can actually roll all the way over and then roll back up again?  I can’t say enough how satisfying it is roll upside down, end up in the dark world of gooey wet things and then flick your paddle and suddenly arrive back in the fresh air world we know so well.  This is not to say that that happens often.  Most of the time my experience involves a lot of flailing around under water followed by a farty kind of sound as I release my kayak skirt and wriggle back up to the surface, sans boat. 

It’s still pretty cold in this part of the country.  It snowed this morning.  The last three times I’ve paddled, it’s been about 40 degrees.  For kayakers, I guess this is no big deal, but I will say that it’s not what I had thought of as swimmy weather before getting into the kayak thing.  But snow-melt means big water, which, if you know how to kayak is awesome.  If you are just learning…  well on with the story: