It's a jungle out there
Extracting my feet from the thick swamp mud was becoming a real physical challenge after four hours of trekking through the coastal jungles of southern Kalimantan, Indonesia. My footwear, which had promised to be lightweight ‘all-rounder’ activity boots, were saturated and heavy: the thick ankle foam could absorb no more water and now attracted huge clods of wet mulch, making my feet look like those of an elephant. Keeping up with my nimble-footed guides, who were wearing lightweight rubber hockey boots and leech socks, was taking second place behind preventing myself from being totally immobilised from the knees down. In camp that night, exhausted, I pitched my shelter over the driest part of the swamp. The water beneath me, although no more than a foot deep, still represented a grave threat to the art of enjoying a well-deserved dry night’s sleep. Attaching the cords of my locally made hammock to two sturdy-looking trees, I hoisted myself out of the pungent water and changed into my dry clothes, which had been kept secure in a dry-bag inside my rucksack. I hung the wet, fetid clothing and heavy boots on a line beside me. Supper and a brew was on the way, followed by a night of relative comfort in my hammock.Reclining into the fabric of the hammock and stretching my weary muscles, it all happened so quickly: “snap! crack!” then a loud, watery “g’doosh”. The next thing I knew, I was hanging upside down like a fruit-bat. I just managed to grip the sides of the hammock to prevent myself from sliding head-first into the dark pool. My guides sloshed over to help me, laughing hysterically. They carried me like a wounded boxer over to their platform-shelter. Difficult lesson learned: always use known and reliable equipment rather than untested, less-effective alternatives.
Booted out
My experience of heavy, water-logged boots is all too typical. The jungle environment is usually wet and even more usually muddy. There is a lot of ground foliage to step over, under, onto and around, so the last thing you want is a heavy weight on your feet. Hence, footwear shouldn’t be waterproof: your boots need to let water in and out, and also be capable of shedding yet more water when you hang them up overnight. Boots with so-called waterproof/breathable coatings and membranes prevent this two-way exchange from taking place, and are also easily damaged by thorns. Boots will never remain completely dry, but damp boots are preferable to sodden ones. I’ve tried numerous lightweight trekking boots in tropical regions, all more suited to the Brecon Beacons or the Mexican desert. For the jungle, there’s only one boot that I trust: the US Army jungle boot. It has high ankle protection that minimises injury from thorns, and allows your trousers to be tucked inside to reduce the number of leeches squirming through. It also has a sewn-in tongue that stops debris from entering the top of the boot and drain vents on the instep that squeeze water out as the wearer walks along. The Panama sole is specially designed to shed mud as you walk. And the boot uppers are made of a light, unpadded canvas that absorbs very little water. When dry, the leather toe does tend to become quite hard. Oh, and they only come in olive-green or black. But when you’re up to your knees in mud, who cares?Alternatively, you may wish to copy the locals, who often wear a flimsy, runner ‘galosh’, nicknamed the ‘Adidas Kampong’. This is combined with a knee-high, cotton leech-sock. (A leech sock is like a Christmas stocking: tuck your pants inside it and tie the top cords to minimise ingress of your blood-sucking friends.) For muddy base camps, you may wish to also take along a pair of Wellington boots. And of course, there’s the trusty flip-flops for riverbank lounging. My socks are of the simple loopstitch variety, which are hard wearing and easily dried. Carry some spare pairs for the evenings and take care to keep them dry.
Dressed for success
My jungle clothing used to consist of light cotton poplin ‘ripstop’ shirts and trousers, but I’m now a total convert to polyester–cotton blends. Polycotton is lightweight and quick drying, but still manages to retain some absorbency when you’re sweating heavily. My favourite designs are the long-sleeved Kiwi shirt and trousers made by Craghoppers; I’ve been using them for eight years. Top off your ensemble with a sunhat and a pair of shades for those long rides in open-topped 4x4 vehicles. I also wear a thin, cotton bandanna to wipe away sweat and dust as I trek.My spare clothing (which is kept dry at all costs, and used only for sleeping in) consists of another long-sleeved polycotton shirt and trousers. I might chuck in a pair of Gore-Tex liner socks for use in the evenings if I wear my wet jungle boots around the camp after I’ve changed into dry socks.For cooler climates in the hills, I take a light fleece jacket and hat. I don’t take waterproof shell clothing unless I know that higher, mountainous regions will require an extra layer. ‘Breathable’ fabrics are normally superfluous. Use a lightweight silicon or PU nylon instead. On my back, I carry a pack that normally has a capacity of no more than 50 litres. If you’re heading farther afield and need to carry more food and kit, you’ll need a larger pack, but it’s better to try to keep the bulk to a minimum. Guides (and porters if you employ them) often take the larger items that they normally use, such as tarps and cooking pots.The profile of the pack is important if you wish to reduce the chance of getting caught up on lianas and thorns. My current pack is a single-compartment rucksack that is no wider than my torso, no higher than my shoulders and sufficiently narrow to fit into a dug-out canoe. Try to avoid rucksacks with wide side-pockets and tall alpine mountaineering sacs that tower above your head, as both designs will continually get snagged on trees.For rucksack liners I prefer a lightweight, nylon version of the rolling/sealing canoe bag. Everything inside this main liner is also in plastic bags. Don’t slacken off in this: it’s easy to forget how quickly damp migrates from one item to another.
A bit of luxury
You’re going to be sweating a fair bit, so rehydration is particularly important. I carry a one-litre wide-mouthed Nalgene water bottle, held in a nylon cover on my belt. In addition, I use a flexible nylon four-litre water bag. For luxury, I occasionally take a shower adaptor for the flexi-bag and leave the contraption in the glare of the tropical sun for 30 minutes in order to enjoy a warm wash. If you use a drinking hose hydration system, be sure to wash the mouthpiece and hose regularly to avoid catching a lurgy from accumulated grime.I don’t bother with a cooking stove in the jungle as my guides use small fires for cooking and smoking game. I do carry a two-pint, stainless-steel cooking pot and a one-pint mug for endless brews. I augment this with a plastic spoon and a brew kit consisting of powdered tea and coffee. My waterproof torch is a small but very powerful LED headtorch, which can survive a heavy tropical downpour or being dropped into a river.On my belt, alongside my water bottle, I carry a small waterproof pouch containing essential items for fire-lighting, a small first aid kit, nylon cord, insect repellent (I prefer 50 per cent DEET), a Silva 7L compass, iodine water-purification tablets, a couple of energy bars for emergency rations, a spare LED key-ring torch, a thumb-operated pace counter for keeping accurate track of distance travelled and a folding Normark penknife.In my rucksack, I stow a comprehensive medical kit, toilet paper, nylon cord, a small wash kit with anti-fungal foot/body powder, a repair kit, candles, lighters, a water filter, Fablon-covered local maps, a waterproof-paper notebook and a pencil. Everything is placed in sealed plastic bags.You may also want to consider carrying specialist items such as a Personal Locator Beacon,a GPS receiver, coloured ground-to-air marker panels, river-crossing ropes, base-camp tarpaulins and even a folding umbrella for heavy downpours. Whatever you decide to pack, take a couple of local guides with you on your trek, learn from them and enjoy the environment by travelling as light as you can, unburdened by gear that you haven’t tested thoroughly beforehand.Selamat jalan! Happy trekking!
Choosing a jungle sleeping system
There are several three-in-one hammock designs on the market. The Hennessey hammock is a good example, with a sewn-in mosquito net and a separate tarp to go over the top. Although I like the Hennessey, I’ve found the tarp a bit small to cope with heavy downpours. And such all-in-one concepts aren’t as flexible as shelter units that consist of three separate items, which can be used anywhere from village huts and backpackers’ hostels to beaches and on trains. I use an Australian Army basha with some nylon cord attached to the corner loops. Forget bungee cords, as they tend to zing off into the undergrowth or your eyeball when you accidentally release them. My mosquito net is a box version with fine mesh. It’s long enough to tuck into the hammock or under a sleeping mat. Attach elastic cords to the corners to reduce strain on the fabric. Treat the mesh with permethrin to deter beasties. My hammock is a poly-cotton ‘Thai’ hammock, which doubles as a blanket in village huts.
It pays to have a parang to hand
I always carry a jungle knife called a parang, which is worn in a strong sheath attached to a nylon tape around my waist. Due to the new security restrictions on flights and at borders, I tend to buy this item locally and give it to my guide after the trek. Look for a decent blade of about 30 centimetres in length, with a full tang and preferably a riveted handle. Learn how to use it confidently and carefully, and keep it sharp. A parang is an invaluable tool. When used properly and sparingly, it will make life in the jungle a lot easier when you need to clear undergrowth and chop firewood. If you decide not to carry one, ensure your guide has his own.
May 2007
Booted out
My experience of heavy, water-logged boots is all too typical. The jungle environment is usually wet and even more usually muddy. There is a lot of ground foliage to step over, under, onto and around, so the last thing you want is a heavy weight on your feet. Hence, footwear shouldn’t be waterproof: your boots need to let water in and out, and also be capable of shedding yet more water when you hang them up overnight. Boots with so-called waterproof/breathable coatings and membranes prevent this two-way exchange from taking place, and are also easily damaged by thorns. Boots will never remain completely dry, but damp boots are preferable to sodden ones. I’ve tried numerous lightweight trekking boots in tropical regions, all more suited to the Brecon Beacons or the Mexican desert. For the jungle, there’s only one boot that I trust: the US Army jungle boot. It has high ankle protection that minimises injury from thorns, and allows your trousers to be tucked inside to reduce the number of leeches squirming through. It also has a sewn-in tongue that stops debris from entering the top of the boot and drain vents on the instep that squeeze water out as the wearer walks along. The Panama sole is specially designed to shed mud as you walk. And the boot uppers are made of a light, unpadded canvas that absorbs very little water. When dry, the leather toe does tend to become quite hard. Oh, and they only come in olive-green or black. But when you’re up to your knees in mud, who cares?Alternatively, you may wish to copy the locals, who often wear a flimsy, runner ‘galosh’, nicknamed the ‘Adidas Kampong’. This is combined with a knee-high, cotton leech-sock. (A leech sock is like a Christmas stocking: tuck your pants inside it and tie the top cords to minimise ingress of your blood-sucking friends.) For muddy base camps, you may wish to also take along a pair of Wellington boots. And of course, there’s the trusty flip-flops for riverbank lounging. My socks are of the simple loopstitch variety, which are hard wearing and easily dried. Carry some spare pairs for the evenings and take care to keep them dry.
Dressed for success
My jungle clothing used to consist of light cotton poplin ‘ripstop’ shirts and trousers, but I’m now a total convert to polyester–cotton blends. Polycotton is lightweight and quick drying, but still manages to retain some absorbency when you’re sweating heavily. My favourite designs are the long-sleeved Kiwi shirt and trousers made by Craghoppers; I’ve been using them for eight years. Top off your ensemble with a sunhat and a pair of shades for those long rides in open-topped 4x4 vehicles. I also wear a thin, cotton bandanna to wipe away sweat and dust as I trek.My spare clothing (which is kept dry at all costs, and used only for sleeping in) consists of another long-sleeved polycotton shirt and trousers. I might chuck in a pair of Gore-Tex liner socks for use in the evenings if I wear my wet jungle boots around the camp after I’ve changed into dry socks.For cooler climates in the hills, I take a light fleece jacket and hat. I don’t take waterproof shell clothing unless I know that higher, mountainous regions will require an extra layer. ‘Breathable’ fabrics are normally superfluous. Use a lightweight silicon or PU nylon instead. On my back, I carry a pack that normally has a capacity of no more than 50 litres. If you’re heading farther afield and need to carry more food and kit, you’ll need a larger pack, but it’s better to try to keep the bulk to a minimum. Guides (and porters if you employ them) often take the larger items that they normally use, such as tarps and cooking pots.The profile of the pack is important if you wish to reduce the chance of getting caught up on lianas and thorns. My current pack is a single-compartment rucksack that is no wider than my torso, no higher than my shoulders and sufficiently narrow to fit into a dug-out canoe. Try to avoid rucksacks with wide side-pockets and tall alpine mountaineering sacs that tower above your head, as both designs will continually get snagged on trees.For rucksack liners I prefer a lightweight, nylon version of the rolling/sealing canoe bag. Everything inside this main liner is also in plastic bags. Don’t slacken off in this: it’s easy to forget how quickly damp migrates from one item to another.
A bit of luxury
You’re going to be sweating a fair bit, so rehydration is particularly important. I carry a one-litre wide-mouthed Nalgene water bottle, held in a nylon cover on my belt. In addition, I use a flexible nylon four-litre water bag. For luxury, I occasionally take a shower adaptor for the flexi-bag and leave the contraption in the glare of the tropical sun for 30 minutes in order to enjoy a warm wash. If you use a drinking hose hydration system, be sure to wash the mouthpiece and hose regularly to avoid catching a lurgy from accumulated grime.I don’t bother with a cooking stove in the jungle as my guides use small fires for cooking and smoking game. I do carry a two-pint, stainless-steel cooking pot and a one-pint mug for endless brews. I augment this with a plastic spoon and a brew kit consisting of powdered tea and coffee. My waterproof torch is a small but very powerful LED headtorch, which can survive a heavy tropical downpour or being dropped into a river.On my belt, alongside my water bottle, I carry a small waterproof pouch containing essential items for fire-lighting, a small first aid kit, nylon cord, insect repellent (I prefer 50 per cent DEET), a Silva 7L compass, iodine water-purification tablets, a couple of energy bars for emergency rations, a spare LED key-ring torch, a thumb-operated pace counter for keeping accurate track of distance travelled and a folding Normark penknife.In my rucksack, I stow a comprehensive medical kit, toilet paper, nylon cord, a small wash kit with anti-fungal foot/body powder, a repair kit, candles, lighters, a water filter, Fablon-covered local maps, a waterproof-paper notebook and a pencil. Everything is placed in sealed plastic bags.You may also want to consider carrying specialist items such as a Personal Locator Beacon,a GPS receiver, coloured ground-to-air marker panels, river-crossing ropes, base-camp tarpaulins and even a folding umbrella for heavy downpours. Whatever you decide to pack, take a couple of local guides with you on your trek, learn from them and enjoy the environment by travelling as light as you can, unburdened by gear that you haven’t tested thoroughly beforehand.Selamat jalan! Happy trekking!
Choosing a jungle sleeping system
There are several three-in-one hammock designs on the market. The Hennessey hammock is a good example, with a sewn-in mosquito net and a separate tarp to go over the top. Although I like the Hennessey, I’ve found the tarp a bit small to cope with heavy downpours. And such all-in-one concepts aren’t as flexible as shelter units that consist of three separate items, which can be used anywhere from village huts and backpackers’ hostels to beaches and on trains. I use an Australian Army basha with some nylon cord attached to the corner loops. Forget bungee cords, as they tend to zing off into the undergrowth or your eyeball when you accidentally release them. My mosquito net is a box version with fine mesh. It’s long enough to tuck into the hammock or under a sleeping mat. Attach elastic cords to the corners to reduce strain on the fabric. Treat the mesh with permethrin to deter beasties. My hammock is a poly-cotton ‘Thai’ hammock, which doubles as a blanket in village huts.
It pays to have a parang to hand
I always carry a jungle knife called a parang, which is worn in a strong sheath attached to a nylon tape around my waist. Due to the new security restrictions on flights and at borders, I tend to buy this item locally and give it to my guide after the trek. Look for a decent blade of about 30 centimetres in length, with a full tang and preferably a riveted handle. Learn how to use it confidently and carefully, and keep it sharp. A parang is an invaluable tool. When used properly and sparingly, it will make life in the jungle a lot easier when you need to clear undergrowth and chop firewood. If you decide not to carry one, ensure your guide has his own.
May 2007
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