Into the unknown
On my first expedition to an unexplored mountain range, our three-person team decided to use a gas stove. It was terrific in terms of performance, and very stable because the propane canister was connected to the three-legged burner via a thick rubber tube.
On one particularly cold night, we were camped on the side of an unclimbed peak. We connected a radiator-style heat exchanger to the outside of a large pot to help decrease the melting time of the ice we had collected from outside the tent, fired up the stove, and then snuggled into our down sleeping bags to wait for the frozen water to become drinkable.
After a couple of minutes, the heat exchanger warmed up. Unfortunately, it also began sliding slowly down the side of the pan, Eventually, the exchanger touched the rubber pipe and melted through it like a hot knife through butter. The next thing we knew, a huge jet of flame shot up the inside of the closed tent door. We fought our way out of our sleeping bags until one of us reached the gas cylinder and turned it off. We were lucky not to receive terrible burns.
Testing times
I believe that choosing the right kit is often about choosing the wrong kit. If you suffer some discomfort on a short trip to the Lake District, then you’ll learn lots. By the time you get to an unexplored valley in Central Asia, you need to know that you have finished making the wrong choices. The only way you are going to make the right choices is if you get on the hill and earn the necessary experience in a controlled environment.
In the case of the stove, we had used it on a training trip but it hadn’t been cold enough for us to bother with the heat exchanger. These days, I test all of the gear I want to take on an expedition before departure, even if the conditions don’t warrant it. If that means trying out clunky plastic boots on a scramble in North Wales, then so be it.
If you’re heading to a well-documented place, then it’s easy to find out exactly what kit to take from guidebooks, expedition reports, the internet and people who’ve been there. But when you’re going somewhere that no-one has gone before, you have to be prepared for a number of things that may or may not happen.
This means that you will inevitably end up carrying things you don’t use. On a recent trip, we took a dozen ice screws but, to our surprise, only ended up using a few. Nevertheless, I would rather carry 12 and use two than the other way around. You can compromise with some gear. But half-way up an unclimbed ice face is no place to discover that you’ve run out of climbing protection.
Ultimately, there’s a fine line between packing the kitchen sink in case you need it and not taking enough gear to get the job done. You have to decide what you will knowingly take on and what you will reject. If you’re on a climbing trip, you may have to set yourself a technical threshold, even if that is below what you are physically capable of attempting. Taking a huge amount of gear means more porters or pack animals, which will increase time and costs.
Making contact
It’s nice to have a satellite telephone as a link to the outside world. Indeed, if you have sponsorship obligations, you might have to stay in touch with the media, as this could be the only way to fund your trip. I only use the phone if something serious happens, either to a team member or to a family member back home. Having a phone doesn’t influence the decisions I make on an expedition.
Ultimately, I would be happy to leave it behind, but I respect the fact that other team members have different priorities.
One really good reason for having a telephone is that pulling together all of the elements of your trip once you arrive in-country can be incredibly difficult without the ability to call people. At the start of one journey, our horseman didn’t turn up at the village we were in at the appointed time. We telephoned our fixer on his mobile phone (some parts of the Himalaya now have mobile coverage), who then drove to the horseman’s house to find out what the problem was. It turned out that the horseman was having problems with feed for his pack animals. Our fixer was able to call us back to explain that he would be arriving 24 hours later than scheduled. Having the phone saved us from fretting, and enabled us to enjoy the bonus rest day.
Beyond the brand
When it comes to selecting gear for an exploratory expedition, the most important issue for me is whether the product has been constructed simply, so that I can fix it in the field if it breaks. My Terra Nova Quasar tent epitomises this design philosophy. I’ve used shelters that are equipped with lots of bells and whistles, some of which are quite useful when you’re camping in nice weather. However, when the conditions are filthy and you’re exhausted, you just want everything to work quickly and easily. I find that pitching a Quasar is very straightforward. It might not have all the fancy features, but it’s simple and solid. And once it’s up, it stays up. If I’m not thinking about an item of equipment, I know it’s doing its job, which allows me to get on with my job.
I always look beyond the brand names and focus instead on the materials and how the product has been constructed. As soon as you put on a jacket, you notice whether it has been designed by someone who has been on a mountain, found a problem, and used their experience to find a solution. In the 1990s, pit zips under the arms were all the rage. These were supposed to reduce condensation problems by increasing ventilation. But they were often difficult to reach, and their efficacy was compromised by rucksack shoulder straps. Recently, some experienced designers have started putting venting zips on the front of the jackets near the armpits. These sit away from the shoulder straps and are also easy to use.
I also look for items of kit that can fulfil more than one role. My Buffalo Windshirt is as good as any other wind-resistant top. But because it’s made from Pertex, I can also use it as a towel if I need to save weight.
The outdoor market now leans heavily towards lightweight gear. How much you buy partly comes down to budget. Much of my gear is quite old as I prefer a few heavier, more durable items to a lot of lightweight kit. Some of my friends have half a dozen rucksacks. I own two.
If you can afford to buy all-new lightweight gear, it can have a positive impact at the airline check-in desk. On one trip, our team had a £1,000 excess-baggage charge. The fact that my old plastic boots weigh twice as much as modern mountaineering boots didn’t help. Eventually, you realise that the weight of your gear is physically slowing you down on an expedition, at which point you have to get the credit card out.
It’s a gas
On exploratory expeditions, you can’t plan things precisely. For example, it’s impossible to calculate exactly how much fuel you’re going to need for cooking. The chance of getting bottled gas in a remote village is virtually nil, but you can buy paraffin from lots of settlements, and sometimes even passing horsemen will sell you a couple of litres.
I now use a stove that can run on liquid fuels such as paraffin as well as bottled gas. I use paraffin as far as advance base camp and then switch to gas canisters higher on the mountain. My new stove doesn’t perform quite as well as the very best burners that run only on liquid fuel or just bottled gas, but the decline in performance is negligible and easily outweighed by its overall versatility. Most importantly, my new stove has a metal rather than a rubber pipe linking the burner to the canister.
Google earth: the best piece of kit for explorers?
On my latest trip to the Himalaya, we had no maps, and the only images we had of the area were printouts from Google Earth. We could make out features such as valleys and rivers, and decided to establish base camp next to a prominent glacial lake. Our local horsemen claimed to know where the lake was, but in the end they got quite confused. We made the mistake of assuming that they knew the area better than us, even though we had a satellite image. Ultimately, we ended up establishing base camp 800 vertical metres below where we had hoped to site it because it was physically impossible for the horses to ascend the final slope. We hadn’t been able to work this out by looking at Google Earth. A good map would have told us straightaway. Then again, many unexplored regions don’t have well-drawn maps.
For me, the excitement of visiting an unexplored area comes not from being the first person to go somewhere, but from the feeling of not knowing. Google Earth does compromise this sensation to a degree, but the information is suitably vague. For instance, peaks appear as blobs rather than as sharply defined pinnacles. You can’t yet pick out a mountain and glean enough information to be able to set off confident that you’ll be able to ascend it. Despite our recent experience with the horsemen, local knowledge is still essential.
–Elliott Forge–
has taken part in exploratory treks and expeditions to the Himalaya and Central Asia, and has made first ascents of five peaks. Elliott has also trekked and climbed in a number of more well-known mountain ranges, including the French Alps, the Julian Alps, and the Pyrenees
Ten of the best
When heading out to explore an unknown and remote region, you need to have complete confidence in your kit, as well as in your team-mates and your abilities to deal with whatever the expedition throws at you. Here are some items that have proved essential in the field – but not before being tried and tested closer to home.
January 2010
On one particularly cold night, we were camped on the side of an unclimbed peak. We connected a radiator-style heat exchanger to the outside of a large pot to help decrease the melting time of the ice we had collected from outside the tent, fired up the stove, and then snuggled into our down sleeping bags to wait for the frozen water to become drinkable.
After a couple of minutes, the heat exchanger warmed up. Unfortunately, it also began sliding slowly down the side of the pan, Eventually, the exchanger touched the rubber pipe and melted through it like a hot knife through butter. The next thing we knew, a huge jet of flame shot up the inside of the closed tent door. We fought our way out of our sleeping bags until one of us reached the gas cylinder and turned it off. We were lucky not to receive terrible burns.
Testing times
I believe that choosing the right kit is often about choosing the wrong kit. If you suffer some discomfort on a short trip to the Lake District, then you’ll learn lots. By the time you get to an unexplored valley in Central Asia, you need to know that you have finished making the wrong choices. The only way you are going to make the right choices is if you get on the hill and earn the necessary experience in a controlled environment.
In the case of the stove, we had used it on a training trip but it hadn’t been cold enough for us to bother with the heat exchanger. These days, I test all of the gear I want to take on an expedition before departure, even if the conditions don’t warrant it. If that means trying out clunky plastic boots on a scramble in North Wales, then so be it.
If you’re heading to a well-documented place, then it’s easy to find out exactly what kit to take from guidebooks, expedition reports, the internet and people who’ve been there. But when you’re going somewhere that no-one has gone before, you have to be prepared for a number of things that may or may not happen.
This means that you will inevitably end up carrying things you don’t use. On a recent trip, we took a dozen ice screws but, to our surprise, only ended up using a few. Nevertheless, I would rather carry 12 and use two than the other way around. You can compromise with some gear. But half-way up an unclimbed ice face is no place to discover that you’ve run out of climbing protection.
Ultimately, there’s a fine line between packing the kitchen sink in case you need it and not taking enough gear to get the job done. You have to decide what you will knowingly take on and what you will reject. If you’re on a climbing trip, you may have to set yourself a technical threshold, even if that is below what you are physically capable of attempting. Taking a huge amount of gear means more porters or pack animals, which will increase time and costs.
Making contact
It’s nice to have a satellite telephone as a link to the outside world. Indeed, if you have sponsorship obligations, you might have to stay in touch with the media, as this could be the only way to fund your trip. I only use the phone if something serious happens, either to a team member or to a family member back home. Having a phone doesn’t influence the decisions I make on an expedition.
Ultimately, I would be happy to leave it behind, but I respect the fact that other team members have different priorities.
One really good reason for having a telephone is that pulling together all of the elements of your trip once you arrive in-country can be incredibly difficult without the ability to call people. At the start of one journey, our horseman didn’t turn up at the village we were in at the appointed time. We telephoned our fixer on his mobile phone (some parts of the Himalaya now have mobile coverage), who then drove to the horseman’s house to find out what the problem was. It turned out that the horseman was having problems with feed for his pack animals. Our fixer was able to call us back to explain that he would be arriving 24 hours later than scheduled. Having the phone saved us from fretting, and enabled us to enjoy the bonus rest day.
Beyond the brand
When it comes to selecting gear for an exploratory expedition, the most important issue for me is whether the product has been constructed simply, so that I can fix it in the field if it breaks. My Terra Nova Quasar tent epitomises this design philosophy. I’ve used shelters that are equipped with lots of bells and whistles, some of which are quite useful when you’re camping in nice weather. However, when the conditions are filthy and you’re exhausted, you just want everything to work quickly and easily. I find that pitching a Quasar is very straightforward. It might not have all the fancy features, but it’s simple and solid. And once it’s up, it stays up. If I’m not thinking about an item of equipment, I know it’s doing its job, which allows me to get on with my job.
I always look beyond the brand names and focus instead on the materials and how the product has been constructed. As soon as you put on a jacket, you notice whether it has been designed by someone who has been on a mountain, found a problem, and used their experience to find a solution. In the 1990s, pit zips under the arms were all the rage. These were supposed to reduce condensation problems by increasing ventilation. But they were often difficult to reach, and their efficacy was compromised by rucksack shoulder straps. Recently, some experienced designers have started putting venting zips on the front of the jackets near the armpits. These sit away from the shoulder straps and are also easy to use.
I also look for items of kit that can fulfil more than one role. My Buffalo Windshirt is as good as any other wind-resistant top. But because it’s made from Pertex, I can also use it as a towel if I need to save weight.
The outdoor market now leans heavily towards lightweight gear. How much you buy partly comes down to budget. Much of my gear is quite old as I prefer a few heavier, more durable items to a lot of lightweight kit. Some of my friends have half a dozen rucksacks. I own two.
If you can afford to buy all-new lightweight gear, it can have a positive impact at the airline check-in desk. On one trip, our team had a £1,000 excess-baggage charge. The fact that my old plastic boots weigh twice as much as modern mountaineering boots didn’t help. Eventually, you realise that the weight of your gear is physically slowing you down on an expedition, at which point you have to get the credit card out.
It’s a gas
On exploratory expeditions, you can’t plan things precisely. For example, it’s impossible to calculate exactly how much fuel you’re going to need for cooking. The chance of getting bottled gas in a remote village is virtually nil, but you can buy paraffin from lots of settlements, and sometimes even passing horsemen will sell you a couple of litres.
I now use a stove that can run on liquid fuels such as paraffin as well as bottled gas. I use paraffin as far as advance base camp and then switch to gas canisters higher on the mountain. My new stove doesn’t perform quite as well as the very best burners that run only on liquid fuel or just bottled gas, but the decline in performance is negligible and easily outweighed by its overall versatility. Most importantly, my new stove has a metal rather than a rubber pipe linking the burner to the canister.
Google earth: the best piece of kit for explorers?
On my latest trip to the Himalaya, we had no maps, and the only images we had of the area were printouts from Google Earth. We could make out features such as valleys and rivers, and decided to establish base camp next to a prominent glacial lake. Our local horsemen claimed to know where the lake was, but in the end they got quite confused. We made the mistake of assuming that they knew the area better than us, even though we had a satellite image. Ultimately, we ended up establishing base camp 800 vertical metres below where we had hoped to site it because it was physically impossible for the horses to ascend the final slope. We hadn’t been able to work this out by looking at Google Earth. A good map would have told us straightaway. Then again, many unexplored regions don’t have well-drawn maps.
For me, the excitement of visiting an unexplored area comes not from being the first person to go somewhere, but from the feeling of not knowing. Google Earth does compromise this sensation to a degree, but the information is suitably vague. For instance, peaks appear as blobs rather than as sharply defined pinnacles. You can’t yet pick out a mountain and glean enough information to be able to set off confident that you’ll be able to ascend it. Despite our recent experience with the horsemen, local knowledge is still essential.
–Elliott Forge–
has taken part in exploratory treks and expeditions to the Himalaya and Central Asia, and has made first ascents of five peaks. Elliott has also trekked and climbed in a number of more well-known mountain ranges, including the French Alps, the Julian Alps, and the Pyrenees
Ten of the best
When heading out to explore an unknown and remote region, you need to have complete confidence in your kit, as well as in your team-mates and your abilities to deal with whatever the expedition throws at you. Here are some items that have proved essential in the field – but not before being tried and tested closer to home.
Start the slideshow (10 pictures)
January 2010
 |
