Weekly-ish access to tools, techniques, and shop tales from the worlds of DIY
Nomadico issue #102
At first sight it’s a nice-looking puffy jacket. Then someone picks up said puffy jacket and throws it at you. You put your hand out ready to catch a pound or so of duck-filled garment and then – nothing. Not what you expected. It’ as though a helium balloon just brushed against your hand. It’s thick and puffy and warm, but it doesn’t weigh anything.
And so began my love affair with the Montbell Ex Light Jacket. Not to be confused with its heavier cousin, the Montbell UL Jacket, the Ex Light weighs in at a scant 5.7 oz for a medium. Don’t expect frills such as pockets or hemmed waists, or the insulation and more durable exterior of a thicker down coat.
I wore this jacket whenever I had a chance on the Wonderland Trail. Rest stops, camp, heck I even slept in it on most nights. It’s a perfect complement to my lightweight summer bag when things get a little chilly at night.
Granted, I’ve spent more time in this jacket off the mountain at this point. It’s so snug, so cozy that I’ve been living in it for most of the winter. It replaces my Bozeman Cocoon Vest, and for 0.4 oz more it packs a whole lot more warmth. The downside is that I’m more vulnerable to rain as the Cocoon was synthetic and this is down, but I’ve found it to be a worthwhile tradeoff. —Brett Marl
Paramo Directional Clothing System
Normal “breathable” shells have three great failings. The worst is that they’re just not that breathable, especially in rain, and extra-especially for people who carry on high-energy activities when it rains. This is because they’re based on a pored membrane that works by letting water vapour go from dryer to wetter air, so when the air outside is wet you’re stuck with living with your own sweat. Their two other failings are that repairing rips with a needle is disastrous, because water flows through the holes the needle makes in the membrane, and that getting dry once you’re soaked – whether by your own sweat or a fall in a river – takes forever. Softshells try to get around some of these problems, but at the cost of letting in moderate to heavy rain.
A company that has found the answer is Paramo with their “Directional” shell fabrics. Instead of using a membrane they use a “pump liner” that sucks water away from the inside of their shells. So sweat is still expelled in the rain, needle holes don’t matter because water trying to enter via them is pumped back, and if you get soaked under your shell when you fall out of your kayak your baselayers will dry out faster with your Paramo on, sucking water away, than if you took it off.
In other good news: Paramo is rustle free, completely windproof (it’s a popular choice of Antarctic exploration teams), is easily washed and re-proofed in a washing machine, and the average hard-used shell seems to last about a decade.
The downside of Paramo shells has been that they combine a shell with a midlayer, making them too warm for many people except in winter, and slightly bulky to carry. However the latest Paramo Velez Light has fixed this problem with lighter insulation and excellent venting. You simply put it on a over a baselayer and work the venting (and roll up the sleeves – something you can’t comfortably do with a normal shell) as needed – the shell stays on all day. Because sweat transport and venting are so good this works in all but summer weather. The Velez Light also has an exceptionally good hood that keeps goggles and spectacles dry in the rain but provides more than adequate side vision even for cycling in traffic.
The bad news is that although discussed excitedly on ultra light-weight hiking lists from time to time, Paramo doesn’t seem to be stocked widely – if at all – in the US. However, ordering from the UK is hardly the adventure it was before the invention of the steamship and wireless telegraph.
How good is Paramo? Good enough so that I can crank a cyclocross bike at maximum speed cross country in heavy rain and ice cold wind and my torso is as warm and dry as it would be if I was cycling on a summer day wearing only a wicking tee shirt. In short, ***astoundingly*** good. — Jonathan Coupe
Filson’s gear is made in Washington state and is superior to almost all of the winter/outdoor gear I’ve used. They are a bit spendy but spectacularly well made, and they wear like iron. I imagine my Filson Mackinaw will be handed down to my daughter and then to her children before its usefulness has departed. The woolen gear is quiet in the woods, keeps you warm even if damp or wet, and smells just fine to boot. Thumbs up. — John Coates
Having to work outside in really tough conditions is bad enough, but many times worse if you’re cold too.
I found RefrigiWear suits years ago. They’re made for workers in blast freezers, so they’re tough, not super expensive and come in lots of sizes. My whole crew got these suits and they kept us fully functional while outside overnight for February-in-Wisconsin telecom projects.
I have no idea what Iditarod racers wear, and I’m pretty sure these won’t have the right cache for the ski set, but for working people these suits help you get the job done in the cold and won’t drain the piggy bank. — Wayne Ruffner
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