Tag Archives: classic backpacking gear

“How Did You Get Into This?”

I get asked a lot, “how did you get into this”? I’ve been sewing my whole life, starting with little blankets for my Breyer horses. I was first exposed to the outdoors industry working for Pat Smith and MountainSmith in 1983 when he was still in his garage and made the move to the  first facility. There,  I was a jill-of-all-trades batching packs for the sewers, inspecting packs, shipping and almost anything else. This was my first exposure to entrepreneurship, outdoors goods, industrial machines and production.

I cobbled together most of an apparel design degree but  did not complete it due to life happening.  I spent a lot of years doing custom clothing and bridal. When we moved to Spokane it was a great opportunity to quit that niche. Honestly, as a jeans-coated-with-dog-hair kind of gal, and piles of gear all over the place, it never was a good fit.  In the meantime, I was rummaging through the back tables in fabric stores as the first fleeces were just starting to come out.   A few patterns became available and I was able to outfit my husband and little boys with fleece garments. Adult fleece garments were spendy, and there was nothing for kids. In my quest to make affordable gear, I began to reverse engineer, tweak, and search out information that was not obvious for the home sewer.  This was noticed in the community, and a guy said to me, “you should be repairing gear”. What a great idea!

Spokane is the kind of place where small businesses are supported by the community, and we have a very active outdoors community here. It wasn’t long at all before I was getting known as “The Zipper Lady”.  I got the bright idea to build a website in ’97 or so, and established an online presence. Back then it was easy: hand code some HTML, add some links and voila`: a website is born.

I had read about Usenet in a women’s magazine and I sought out rec.backcountry. My Usenet newbie “hello, I can fix your gear” post did not go over well, and the trolls had a field day. I do not remember who it was, but I am ever grateful to the kind soul who emailed me and gently explained the Usenet faux pas I had made and let me know the correct way to (non) advertise on a non-commercial newsgroup. The key was participation and a one line signature, so that’s what I did. I helped people do their own repairs, told them where to find materials, advised them on gear care, and in return, they called on me when it was time for a pro. In addition, I was for many years a moderator and participant in the Gear Makers forum at the Backpacking.net site.

Throughout all this, the work started coming in. Whether it was a referral from a website, friend-of-a-friend, search engine, an outdoors club, or a referral from a manufacturer I confess I never kept track after I got to 45/50 states and some international work.  I now have arrangements with  local stores to collect local work, in addition to contract work and all the great folks that somehow find me. I’ve never consciously advertised, but I do believe that the willingness to share information and help other when I can contributes to things coming my way.  This leads me to thoughts on hoarding information, which will be posted another day.

Love, Attachment, and Saying Goodbye

very old REI tag

very old REI tag

Over the years, I have seen some amazing classics come through the shop. It’s always amusing when I have the same thing buried in the gear room somewhere. This happens more often than you think. Snow Lion, Petzl, first generation Patagonia and Marmot, Gerry; REI labels from the 70s….great old stuff. Some of it is terrific shape, and some of it is beat to shreds.

I DO understand your relationship with your gear. I get that you romanced and honeymooned in that tent, and your children were conceived in it. Perhaps you summited a particular peak with a certain coat or pack. Maybe you’ve had that day pack forever, taken it around the world, and it still works. Or it did, except for the zipper, My job is to know when to repair and give an item a little TLC, and when to find a tactful way to say, “it’s done”. I always feel bad as I do empathize!

1980: Alpenlite backpack,  wool from Army Navy surplus and Goodwill, Pivetta  5 hiking boots, Epoke 900s and Narrona 3-pin boots in the backpack. Location: Snow Creek trail, Yosemite

1980: Alpenlite backpack, wool from Army Navy surplus and Goodwill, Pivetta 5 hiking boots, Epoke 900s and Narrona 3-pin boots in the backpack. Location: Snow Creek trail, Yosemite

I confess that I didn’t truly get this until we had a family event that underscored this attachment. We used to have a Jansport traildome. The green one with the fiberglass poles? You know it if you’ve been around as long as I have. It was actually my husbands, acquired sometime in the late ’70s.  He and I did our first winter ski trip in it and many many backpack trips in the Sierra, and the Colorado and Wyoming Rockies. We had K-Koted the leaking floor back in 1985, Fast forward to the mid 90’s, when my husband and I are stoked to finally have the kids in their own tent (the Jansport) on family trips. We were camping on the backside of Mt. St. Helens, and over night there was a torrential downpour. Our kids roused us because the inside of the tent was a lake. Sigh. It was obvious: this tent was at the end of its life. How could that be? All I know is that it felt horrible and somehow wrong to toss it in a dumpster, but that’s what I did. Would a little farewell ceremony have been better? I’m not sure about that but I still recall the angst.

 

How do you know when it’s time to toss? Things like Velcro, snaps, zippers, and drawstrings are an easy fix. If the item needs patching, is the patch now going to be the strongest part of the item? This is not a good thing. How about the base fabric? Is it in good condition or is it showing signs of fading, thread breakdown, or UV-induced weakness? For tents especially, UV breakdown of the fabric and breakdown of the coatings is a sure sign of an elderly tent. Mildew and flakey coatings are unrepairable. In my experience, there is no good fix for worn floors or worn flies.  If you must use your tent on its last legs, the blue tarp fix (over the tent,  and/ or another one inside and on the floor) is the only real way to stay dry.

I can’t tell you the right way to say goodbye to beloved old gear. Whether you toss it,  tuck it into the rafters of your garage, or have a memorial ritual is up to you. What I can tell you is how to take care of what you do have, and make it last as long as it possibly can.

Happy Trails until next time…