Snow Canyon, just outside St. George, Utah, is one of our all-time favorite places to camp. We describe it in detail in our guidebook: “Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country.” It’s Trip 1, on page 34. So on our recent migration south, from Canmore, Alberta, to Tucson, Arizona, we camped here and explored the area yet again. We brought our road bikes and cycled the dedicated path heading north out of the State Park, then looping back to the park via the city. We cycled the bike path from the park, east to Kayenta, where we looped through trophy-home neighborhoods in a gorgeous, high-desert setting. We hiked the trails (covered in our book) within the park. We enjoyed it all, even though we’d done it before. But this time we did something new: We rambled off-trail on the slickrock at the head (north end) of Snow Canyon. We discovered superb “slickwalking” terrain, where we roamed—climbing, traversing, descending—for hours. If you’re a strong hiker, capable of navigating cross-country, and comfortable on steep terrain, we urge you to try it. The photos we’ve posted here (click once to enlarge, click a second time to enlarge fully) are a testament to the beauty and intrigue that await you. The last photo attests to the appeal of the campground setting. Bear in mind, all these photos were shot in December. As for how to approach Snow Canyon’s optimal slickwalk terrain, begin on the Whiterocks trail, follow the north fork into the slickrock draw, then begin ascending. Or hike west on the Lava Flow trail, then veer off trail, northwest, at the point nearest the slickrock. If you’re capable, this is all the directional advise you’ll need to begin hours of freelancing. If you feel the need for more directional assistance, you’re in over your head and should keep to the established trails. As always when hiking in Utah canyon country, take care not to step on the fragile, cryptobiotic soil. … Walk on!

Water Walkin’

One of our readers recently posed a good question: “Your guidebook, ‘Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country,’ has several photos of you guys splashing through water. We’re wondering, what’s your footwear solution for dry/wet/dry/wet terrain?”

It’s now too cold for hiking through water in the canyons of Utah. But the daytime temperatures remain comfortable for water walkin’ in southern Arizona. Last year, for example, we hiked through Aravaipa Canyon in January. We were in water constantly. And we were very comfortable.

If you have plans for a winter hiking escape to Arizona, or if you intend to shop the winter sales for water-walkin’ footwear you intend to use in Utah next spring, we thought you might appreciate our response to that question about dry/wet/dry/wet terrain. Here you go:

After years of experimenting with everything from Teva sandals, to 5-10′s, to old boots we don’t care about, to paddling socks + sandals… ad naseum, we eventually found what we think is the optimal solution.

Start with a pair of all-synthetic hiking boots. In other words, regular hiking boots that have no leather in their construction. Non-leather boots do not absorb water, so they remain light rather than become sodden and heavy. Non-leather boots are not damaged by days of hiking in water. Plus they dry much faster once you’re out of the water. Here are a couple examples:

Salomon Cosmic 4D GTX

http://www.travelcountry.com/shop/salomon/cosmic-4d-gtx-boots-mens.html?RefId=72&RefType=Affiliate

Kayland Zephyr Event

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/kayland-zephyr-event-hiking-boots-for-men~p~4057g/?filterString=search~kayland%2F&colorFamily=01

Whether you’ll be in water or not (or in and out of water), these boots will serve you well on almost any terrain. And they’re better in desert climes than all-leather boots, because they breathe a bit better and will therefore keep your feet a little cooler.

So, when you start hiking (presumably on dry ground), you wear your all-synthetic boots and your regular wool/synthetic blend socks. But in your pack, you bring a pair of thin, neoprene paddling socks (like the ones kayakers use). For example:

NRS Hydroskin socks

http://www.rei.com/product/722203/nrs-hydroskin-socks-unisex

Glacier Glove socks

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/glacier-glove-neoprene-fleece-lined-socks-for-men-and-women~p~11073/?filterString=search~neoprene-socks%2F&colorFamily=27

When you get to the point on your hike where wet feet are unavoidable, you stop, take off the dry socks, and put on the neoprene socks.

The neoprene socks will keep your feet warm, even in very cold the water. And because you’re wearing boots designed specifically for hiking, you’ll be more stable, and presumably more comfortable, in rocky, slick, mucky streambed conditions.

Plus, you’ll no longer need two pairs of boots–one for wet, one for dry. And you won’t have to choose. Sometimes you don’t know whether you’ll be hiking in water or not. All you have to do is pack that pair of neoprene socks, just in case.

It works for us. Even on multi-day backpack trips.

Happy water walkin’.

When traveling outside Canada, we often say “Banff” when someone asks us where we’re from. It’s just easier, because most people have at least heard of Banff National Park, while relatively few are familiar with Canmore. But we wince when we do it, because we love Canmore and feel proud and fortunate to reside here. There are dozens of reasons for that. Among them… Friendships, of course. Our “pit crew” of healthcare professionals, including our chiropractor, massage therapist, and Chinese medicine practitioner, all of whom are superb. The setting. Where else can you step out of the bank, or the grocery store, or the hardware store, and find yourself staring up (literally up) at a massive wall of peaks? A small commercial centre, clustered around an authentic Main Street, that is — in our opinion — among the two or three most atmospherically pleasing in Canada. An energetic, adventurous, athletically-charged, core population. … But the primary reason we’re enthralled with Canmore is that our backyard affords some of the best hiking in North America. We were reminded of that yet again when we recently left our house after a late lunch, drove only a short distance, and began hiking—at 3 p.m.—into the headwater basins of James Walker Creek. Our article about it will appear in the Calgary Herald in August. Meanwhile, here are a few photos from that hike. They articulate precisely why, for us, Canmore will always be home.

Parks Canada is Off Route

Visitation to Canada’s Rocky Mountain National Parks has been declining. In an effort to reverse that trend, Parks Canada has announced it will allow the construction of a via ferrata in Banff National Park, at Mt. Norquay Ski Area, above Banff townsite.

Parks Canada does not construct new hiking trails in the Rockies. They don’t even adequately maintain existing hiking trails. (See photos below.) Yet they support what will essentially be an amusement-park attraction? We think this is ridiculous.

While hiking throughout the Canadian Rockies national parks, we’re constantly noticing areas where, if a new trail were constructed, it would soon become famous, because hiking it would be thrilling. Does anyone at Parks Canada recognize these opportunities?

A via ferrata focuses climbers’ attention on the immediate challenges it poses. A hiking trail opens hikers’ eyes, minds and hearts to the environment it traverses. Is anyone at Parks Canada aware of this difference?

Last year, we climbed some of the original via ferrata in the Italian Dolomiti. The routes were constructed during WWI to enable military troops to travel through the mountains. Re-purposing these via ferrata for peacetime recreation made sense.

Constructing a new via ferrata route where there is no such history, however, is nonsense, especially given that the Canadian Rockies’ hiking-trail potential remains largely untapped.

Yes, largely untapped. For every Sentinel Pass trail, Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit, Rockwall trail, or Skyline trail, there are dozens of prospective trails in the Canadian Rockies that would be equally engaging.

Any of them, if constructed, would boost park visitation more effectively than would a via ferrata, because they would enhance the Canadian Rockies’ long-established reputation as one of the world’s premier hiking destinations.

Any of these as-yet unrealized trails would also better serve Parks Canada than would a via ferrata, because they would direct visitors’ attention differently: not toward a manmade contrivance (safety cables strung across a cliff, which could just as easily be located in New York State), but instead toward the unique, vast grandeur of the Canadian Rockies.

That’s our opinion. What’s yours?

Put more mileage on your boots this summer. Become a more efficient hiker.

Our friends at Explore Magazine recently asked us for suggestions on “how to hike more efficiently.” They published several of our tips in the most recent issue of the magazine. But we thought you might want to read the entire list. Here you go:

efficient hiking = actually going hiking

The more you hike, the more efficient a hiker you’ll become.

Many people don’t go hiking because preparation for a hike seems like a pain. So reduce prep time. Keep your daypack packed at home. Have a drawer full of hiking food, so you can just grab and go. After a trip, once you’ve washed your clothes, re-pack your pack, so you’re always ready in advance.

Think “fuel” not “meal.” Rely on nutritional science when you’re out there. Honey Stinger Bars, Clif Builders Bars, Larabars, Genisoy bars, Power Bars, etc. You don’t need to make sandwiches or cook meals. Make your hiking-trip prep simpler, quicker. And don’t waste backpacking time cooking. You can eat great meals at home, before and after your backpack trips. When backpacking, we often hike until dark. In summer, in Canada, daylight is so long you can get nearly two hiking days in one.

Never plan a dinner party for the night you’ll return from a hike. Efficient hiking means seeing and doing as much out there as you can fit into a day. So make sure you—and your hiking compadres—have nothing planned for the evening after a hiking trip. You want to go as far and see as much as possible. A 6 p.m. obligation essentially cuts a dayhike down to a half dayhike

Look ahead into the summer. Warn friends and relatives that summer in Canada is short, hiking season is precious, and you won’t necessarily be available for weddings, family get-togethers, and holiday events, because you’ll be hiking.

Stay focused. Don’t sacrifice hiking opportunities for propriety. Lots of people who love hiking don’t hike nearly as much as they want because they submit to all kinds of frivolous, social obligations.

Men… Find a woman whose desire to hike matches yours. We know lots of men who are essentially emasculated because their partners don’t share their athleticism or adventurous spirit.

Don’t invite just anyone to hike with you. Find people whose fitness level matches yours. Sure, hiking can be social, but it can be social with people who won’t slow you down and limit your range of opportunity on the few precious days you go hiking

Fitness = efficiency in the backcountry. You want to comfortably cover a lot of ground out there, so you can have big, exciting experiences. So get fit, and stay fit.

Sell your older, heavier, less comfortable gear. Buy new gear that will help you hike farther, faster, in greater comfort. Don’t cling to the old stuff. The MEC.ca online Gear Swap offers an easy way to recycle gear.

Trekking poles. Use them. Not just one, but two. And not cheap ones. Certainly not old ski poles. Or a ridiculous Gandalf staff. Get a pair of high-quality trekking poles. They’ll help you hike faster, go farther, more comfortably, with a greater sense of security on rough terrain, and with far less chance of injury.

Carry only backpacking food that requires no cooking. Pack-It Gourmet (www.packitgourmet.com) makes excellent meals that will allow you to eliminate the weight of a backpacking stove, fuel, pots, etc.

No Teva sandals! Strapping them onto your backpack so you can use them as camp shoes is nuts. They’re insanely heavy. Try racing flats, which weigh only a couple ounces.

Don’t carry a heavy, bulky water filter. Use Pristine purification droplets, which are lighter and more compact.

Plan your hike in advance (not in the car, not at the trailhead). Get the right guidebook that doesn’t waste your time — an opinionated guidebook that ensures you enjoy the greatest possible scenic experience.

“Please take that hike out of your book. It’s a secret few people know about. I want to keep it that way.”

We rarely receive a request to excise a particular trip from one of our hiking guidebooks, but when we do, that’s the thrust of the argument: Someone wants to keep their “secret route” all to themselves.

We understand their desire for solitude, because we prize it too. And we recognize that publishing a description of a trail or route will likely increase the number of people who hike it.

We also believe hiking makes people better people: healthier, happier, calmer, saner. The more of us who go hiking, the better off we’ll all be. And one of the best ways to encourage more people to go hiking is to spread the word about trails and routes that are particularly rewarding.

So we’re comfortable spreading the word.

Still, the “secrets” we’ve “revealed” in our books are, in fact, not secrets. All were known before we published our descriptions of them. Granted, some were not widely known, but neither were they unknown. We’re simply giving a few more people the confidence to attempt them.

For every little-known hike described in one of our books, there are many we’ve chosen not to publicize. These truly are secrets. Some were suggested to us by our hiking buddies. Others we sussed out by trial and error.

If you want to covet genuine “hiking secrets,” you can. All you need is a topo map, a compass, the skill to use them, and the will to explore and discover. Be aware, of course, that you’ll occasionally expend a lot of energy to no avail.

Usually, what prompts us to study a topo map is a canyon, ridge, or peak that catches our attention while we’re driving. We glimpse a potential route leading to a compelling goal. By scrutinizing the map, we learn whether or not the route might “go.” If we think it’ll go, we agree to come back and try it someday.

That’s what we did last week, when we finally attempted ????????? Ridge. We noticed it years ago. It’s northeast of ???????? Ridge (Trip ??, page ??, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies). Trails briefly probe the canyons on both sides of ???????? Ridge. The ridge itself is trail-less, but the crest has always intrigued us.

Now that we’ve hiked ???????? Ridge, we can tell you our opinion of it and offer directions that will help you hike it. But we won’t. We’ll leave it a secret.*

But thousands more secrets await you in the Canadian Rockies. We hope you make time to ferret out a few this summer.

*Oh, alright. We’ll give you a visual hint. Here’s a photo revealing the crest of ???????? Ridge.

Wear Trekking Gloves

When you use trekking poles, your hands are constantly exposed. Wind, cold, sun, mosquitos, sandflies, midges… They used to torment my hands, until I began wearing trekking gloves.

That’s when I discovered gloves also make trekking poles more comfortable. Yes, even Leki trekking poles. Leki’s Aergon grips are excellent, but I find trekking gloves add a little cushioning, reduce friction, wick away sweat, give the poles a more secure feeling in my hands, and allow me to hold them with less effort.

“Trekking gloves,” however, don’t really exist. You’ll find them disguised as inexpensive cycling gloves. Look for cycling gloves that have minimal padding. The Pearl Izumi Select gloves are a good example. Men’s and women’s versions are available at MEC for $29, and at REI for $22.

I prefer fingerless trekking gloves, because they serve me in almost all conditions. I wear them when it’s hot or cool. Only when it’s cold or the wind is biting, do I swap my fingerless gloves for full-coverage gloves.

Try them. It won’t cost much. If you find you don’t like trekking gloves, you can use them for cycling. Kathy, by the way, who always uses trekking poles, never wears trekking gloves. When it’s warm, she’s gloveless. But her hands are easily chilled, so she usually wears full-fingered, lightweight wool or synthetic glove liners, and she often switches to insulated gloves.

Don’t Hike Empty-Handed

Hiking season is here. Got trekking poles? If not, buy them now. They’ll help ensure you cover more ground—more efficiently and comfortably—every precious day you spend hiking this summer. And they’ll add years to your hiking life by significantly reducing impact to your joints.

In 1994, when Kath and I began working on Don’t Waste Your Time in the North Cascades, The Opinionated Hiking Guide (now titled Hiking From Here to WOW: North Cascades), we hiked without poles every day for a month. We both developed knee pain. The next summer we used Leki trekking poles every day for three months and our knees were never strained. We felt like four-legged animals. We were more sure-footed. Our speed and endurance increased. Since then, we’ve considered trekking poles required equipment—nearly as important as our boots and packs.

The Benefits of Trekking Poles

Studies show that during a typical 8-hour hike you’ll transfer more than 250 tons of pressure to a pair of trekking poles. When going downhill, poles significantly reduce stress to your knees, as well as your lower back, heel and forefoot. They alleviate knee strain when you’re going uphill too, because you’re climbing with your arms and shoulders, not just your legs. Poles also improve your posture. They keep you more upright, which gives you greater lung capacity and allows more efficient breathing.

The heavier your pack, the more you’ll appreciate the support of trekking poles. You’ll find them especially helpful for crossing unbridged streams, traversing steep slopes, and negotiating snowfields or muddy, rooty, rough stretches of trail. Poles prevent ankle sprains—a common hiking injury. By making you more stable, they actually help you relax, boosting your sense of security and confidence.

Don’t carry one of those big, heavy, gnarled, wooden staffs, unless you’re going to a costume party dressed as Gandalf. They’re more burden than benefit. If you can’t afford trekking poles, make do with a pair of old ski poles. They’re not as effective or comfortable as poles designed specifically for trekking, but they’re better than hiking empty handed. If possible, invest in a pair of true trekking poles.

Even the best trekking poles are not expensive: under $140 per pair. The leading brands are Komperdell, Black Diamond, and Leki. We’ve never found Komperdell poles appealing, so we haven’t used them and cannot comment on them. But we know Leki trekking poles intimately. And we’ve tested Black Diamond’s newest trekking poles.

Black Diamond vs. Leki

Leki trekking poles (various models) have been our constant companions for 17 years. We can recommend them without hesitation. Their durability has been astonishing. And their Aergon grips are by far the most comfortable available. In particular, we suggest the Leki Thermolite Aergon Antishock for men, and the Leki Thermolite Shiva Aergon Antishock for women.

Our only complaint about Leki poles is that the twist-lock mechanisms require too much effort. To lengthen or shorten the poles in response to varying terrain, you must unlock, adjust, then re-lock the poles. It’s just difficult enough that we often don’t do it. We just continue hiking with the poles at a less-than-optimal length: either slightly too long or short.

All trekking poles made by Black Diamond have flick locks instead of twist locks. Leki, too, has begun offering flick-lock trekking poles. Many people prefer flick locks, because they’re very easy to operate, and they lock more securely. We don’t like flick locks because they give poles a heavier swing weight, making them more awkward and cumbersome. And flick locks are bulky. Most flick-lock trekking poles have two flick locks per pole, which makes them look like orthopedic devices.

We prefer the streamlined twist locks, even if they’re not as easy to operate. You swing your poles with every stride. You adjust your poles only occasionally. So it’s logical that “quick” trekking poles with an optimal swing weight would be preferable to poles that feel heavy and slow but are easy to adjust.

You now have another option, however: Black Diamond’s “Z Poles.” One model of Z Pole is the “Distance FL.” It has no locking mechanisms on the two lower sections of each pole. Instead, there’s just one flick lock located high on the shaft, just below the grip, where it has no effect on swing weight. The lower sections of the Distance FL engage and disengage much the same way as tent poles.

These new BD poles seemed like a significant improvement, so we purchased a pair for each of us. We’ve been testing them recently. Here are our conclusions:

• The BD poles feel as reliably sturdy as our Leki poles.

• On steep ascents and descents, we don’t hesitate to adjust the length of the BD poles, because the flick lock works quickly, easily and perfectly every time.

• The BD’s single flick lock (located high on the shaft, near the grip) has almost no affect on swing weight. The BDs feel nearly as light and quick as our Leki poles. Not quite, but nearly.

• The BD poles, however, are stiffer than the Leki poles. And the BD shafts do not taper as narrowly near the tip as the Leki shafts do. This means the BD poles transfer more shock and vibration up the shaft to our hands and wrists. With each pole plant, the BDs land with a jarring thud. This is annoying and uncomfortable, especially on sustained, steep descents. The Leki shafts flex slightly, so they absorb shock. Even Leki poles without shock absorbers are more forgiving and comfortable than the BDs.

• The grips on the Distance FL poles are not ergonomic. They’re cylindrical. They’re also very slender. And they’re virtually straight. This makes them far less comfortable than the sculpted, more substantial, positive-angle, Leki Aergon grips. You should rarely hold trekking poles tightly. You should hold them loosely, with your wrists cradled in the straps. Yet the size and shape of the grips significantly influence how comfortable your trekking poles are. Leki poles are supremely comfortable. BD poles are markedly less comfortable.

• The tops of the BD grips are small, about the size of a quarter. The tops of the Leki grips are elongated and bulbous. On extremely steep descents, it’s often helpful to place the palms of your hands on top of the grips. You can do this comfortably with the Leki grips. On the BD grips, it’s awkward and soon hurts.

• The BD straps are nearly as comfortable as the Leki straps. (Nearly, but not quite.) The BD straps, however, are attached to the grip with a small loop of thin nylon cord. To us, this appears to be a weak point in the design. How long will that cord last? We’re skeptical. But we know our Leki straps have never failed us.

• The tips of both the BD and Leki poles are carbide. But the BD tips screw into a plastic receiver. The Leki tips are permanently embedded in a plastic receiver. Carbide tips eventually wear out, but it takes a long time. When a Leki tip wears out, you simply replace the entire receiver/tip. The BD tips are intended to be installed and removed by hand, but you’ll likely need a pair of pliers. Even with pliers, it’s not possible to completely tighten the BD tips. They remain somewhat loose in the receiver. Perhaps that’s okay, but it appears the BD tips could loosen, unscrew, and fall out.

• One advantage of the BD poles is that they come with two pairs of interchangeable tips: one pair of carbide tips, one pair of hard plastic tips. Presumably the plastic tips would be ideal on canyon-country slickrock. Another advantage of the BD poles is that the tips, because they’re separate from the receivers, are less expensive than the Leki tips.

Final Analysis

The BD poles are much easier to adjust, and they lock more securely. We like the interchangeable tips for use on different terrain. For traveling, the BD poles are more convenient. When you break a BD pole down into three sections, the sections remain loosely linked together. Assembling the pole is as easy as connecting the bungee-cord-linked sections of a tent pole.

But the BD poles, despite their sophisticated innovations, do not compete with the sophisticated feel of the Leki poles. For us, feel is everything. Our trekking poles are not a mere accessory we use only occasionally. They’re essential equipment that we hold in our hands and use constantly, all day, every day we hike. After marveling at the ingenious design of the BD poles, we were soon frustrated with them on the trail, wishing we had our trusted Leki poles in hand.

The Black Diamond Distance FL “Z” poles are intriguing and impressive. They’re easier to assemble, adjust, and disassemble. They’re more convenient to transport. But the Leki Thermolite Aergon Antishock trekking poles are vastly superior where it counts: while you’re striding along the trail.

We’ll continue recommending Leki trekking poles. Meanwhile, we suspect Leki will introduce new poles with design improvements similar to, perhaps superior to, those now available on the BD poles. So check Leki.com occasionally.

Whichever brand of trekking pole you prefer, buy a pair soon so you’ll have them all summer. At the moment, you’ll find Leki Thermolite Aergon and Leki Luau Aergon trekking poles on sale at www.sierratradingpost.com for $86.37, which is 30% off the regular price of $124.78. These poles don’t have the anti-shock feature, but they’re otherwise excellent.

Did the universe send us a symbolic gift of encouragement? We were certain of it when, years ago, we received an Alberta license plate bearing the letters CFA. We recognized it as an acronym: Camp Free Always.

"B.C." stands for "Best Camping"

Camping free has long been our creed. We wrote a book about it: Camp Free in B.C. But sometimes camping free-of-charge isn’t feasible, as on our recent drive through British Columbia. It was late. We considered pushing deeper into the night. We knew of a free campground ahead in the foothills. But another long drive the next day was necessary for us to catch the boat on Lake Chelan, in Washington, where we intended to backpack. (We’ll describe that magnificent trail in our next post.) We didn’t want to be exhausted when we began hiking. So we caved to convenience and pulled into Okanagan Lake Provincial Park.

We’re ashamed to admit we spent $30 to pitch our tent there. The campground was meticulously maintained. The endlessly hot shower was soothing. But $30? Too much. Especially given the campground location: immediately below the highway. We couldn’t listen to the water lapping at the lakeshore. We had to wear earplugs to drown out the vehicle noise so we could get the sleep we’d invested in.

The experience reminded us that Camp Free in B.C. is an important, valuable resource. Yes, some provincial-park campgrounds (smaller ones in less desirable locations, with limited facilities and no showers) charge only about $22 per campsite per night. But many campgrounds in B.C. remain free of charge or truly cheap: just $12 per site, per night. And because these are mostly beyond paved roads, they feel wilder than provincial parks and are often much quieter. You want to find them? Pick up a copy of Camp Free in B.C.

Camp Free gives you detailed descriptions of, and complete driving directions to, 350 free-of-charge campgrounds (plus 80 low-fee ones) throughout southern and central British Columbia, including Vancouver Island, the Sunshine Coast, the Okanagan, the Shuswap Highlands, the Rocky Mountain Trench, the Cariboo Mountains, and the Chilcotin Plateau.

You’ll find Camp Free for sale at all Indigo-Chapters bookstores, and in the book sections at Mountain Equipment Co-op stores. You can also purchase Camp Free directly off our website. Or from Amazon.com.

To jumpstart your free-camping adventures this summer, here are some of our favourite, free-of-charge, B.C. campgrounds. We rate each of these “destination,” meaning they’re worthy of a multi-day stay, not just a utilitarian, overnight stop.

Toquart Bay, page 53, SE of Tofino, on Vancouver Island

Nimpkish Lake, page 72, S of Port McNeil, N end of Vancouver Island  (ideal for kite-boarding & windsurfing)

Cal-Cheak, page 122, at the confluence of Callaghan Creek and Cheakamus River, SW of Whistler

Lillooet Lake and Duffey Lake, page 130, in the Coast Mountains, NE of Pemberton

Seton Dam, page 135, W of Lillooet, in the Coast Mountains

Ashnola River, page 168, near Keremeos, close to Cathedral Provicial Park

Harmon Lake, page 183, near Merritt

Wragge Beach, page 272, near New Denver, in the West Kootenay

Little Slocan Lake, page 280, NW of Nelson, near Valhalla Provincial Park, in the West Kootenay

Glacier Creek and Howser Glayco, page 292, N of Kaslo, in the West Kootenay

Mitten Lake, page 306, between Golden and Radium Hot Springs

Quesnel Lake, Crooked Lake (and 30 other free campgrounds in the vicinity), page 433, in the East Cariboo, W of Wells Gray Park

Owen Lake, page 474, SE of Smithers

Beaver River, page 495, NW of Robson Provincial Park

In November, 2010, we sold our 2006 Toyota Rav4 and purchased a 2008, 19-foot Airstream Bambi SE and a base model 2010 Nissan Pathfinder. In a previous post, titled “The Backcountry Hikers’ Frontcountry Dilemma: Tent Camping vs. RVing,” we described the travel trailers (TTs) we considered before choosing the Airstream. In this post, we’ll describe our feelings about the Airstream now that we’ve been camping in it several months. We’ll also describe the tow vehicles (TVs) we considered and tell you how we feel about the Pathfinder now that we’ve put it to the test.

First, here are the TVs that made our short list:

Vehicle        engine    liters     hp         torque     towing capacity

2010
Toyota
RAV 4          V6        3.5        269         246          3,500 lbs

2010
Toyota
FJ Cruiser    V6        4          259          270          5,000 lbs

2010
Toyota
4Runner        V6       4          270          278          5,000 lbs

2010
Nissan
Xterra            V6        4         261          281          5,000 lbs

2010
Nissan
Pathfinder     V6         4       266           288          6000 lbs

2010
Jeep
Liberty          V6         3.7     210          235           5000 lbs

2011
VW
Touareg        V6 TDI    3      225          406           7700 lbs

As we explained, we originally purchased our Toyota Rav4 with the intention of pulling a small, light TT. But after seriously researching TTs, we lost our enthusiasm for any of the options that were within the Rav’s towing capacity:

T@b
UBW – 1615 lbs
GVWR – 1939 lbs
15’ 6” total length, 10’ 3” interior length
The T@b is no longer manufactured, but this website…  http://rosalindgardner.com/inside-the-tb-trailer/ … offers photos and stats that might help you decide if you want to purchase a used one.

Forest River Rpod 171
UBW – 2121 lbs
GVWR – 3181 lbs
18’ 4” total length, 15’ 8” interior length
www.forestriverinc.com

Camplite CL13QBB
UBW – 1900 lbs
GVWR – 2500 lbs
16’ 6” total length, interior length not stated on website
www.livinlite.com

Northern Lite
UBW – 1980 lbs
GVWR not stated on website
16’ total length, interior length not stated on website
www.northern-lite.com

Escape 15B
UBW 1750 lbs
GVWR 3500 lbs
15’ 8” total length, interior length not stated on website
www.escapetrailer.com

Casita Liberty Deluxe 17’
UBW – 2480 lbs
GVWR – 3500 lbs
17’ total length, interior length not stated on website
www.casitatraveltrailers.com

You’ll find subjective descriptions of the above trailers in our previous post titled “The Backcountry Hikers’ Frontcountry Dilemma: Tent Camping vs. RVing.”

Here are the Airstream options we considered:

Airstream Sport 16’
UBW – 2897 lbs
GVWR – 3500 lbs
16’ 4’ total length, 13 ft interior length
www.airstream.com

Airstream 19’ Bambi SE or 19’ Flying Cloud
UBW – 3792 lbs
GVWR – 4500 lbs
19’ 2” total length, 15’ 5” interior length
www.airstream.com

Here are some other interesting RVs we researched:

www.bigfootrv.com
(They closed shop briefly a couple years ago, but they’ve resumed building quality TTs and truck campers in Edmonton, Alberta.)

www.earthroamer.com
(The ultimate truck camper. Excessive in every way, but fascinating to contemplate.)

www.sportsmobile.com
(Luxurious, capable, camperized 4WD vans.)

Safari Condo (www.safaricondo.com)
(A unique TT made in Canada. The model 1723 is 17 feet long, looks fabulous, has a shower, but costs $31,000. Production is limited, however, and what if that lift motor malfunctions?)

Scamp (www.scamptrailers.com)
(Similar to Casita and Escape.)

Heartland (www.heartlandrvs.com)
The Edge, MPG, and Focus models are light yet fully featured.

Choosing a travel trailer (TT) and tow vehicle (TV) is a complex decision, because you’re simultaneously choosing two vehicles and must inevitably make several compromises. What swayed us away from the Rav4 plus an Escape (our favourite of the lightweight TTs), and toward a more robust TV plus an Airstream, was three realizations:

(1) The GVWR of the Escape 15B and that of the Airstream Sport 16’ are identical. We could not fully load either of these TTs and expect our Rav4 to comfortably, safely pull them in all conditions.

(2) The materials, engineering and construction of an Escape are toy-like compared to an Airstream. If purchasing a new, stronger TV, we’d much rather own an Airstream.

(3) It’s possible to find a used-but-well-cared-for Airstream for about the same price as a new Escape. For example, a new Escape 15B sells for $19,600 plus options, and most people will find many of the options essential. While researching TTs, however, we found a 2004, 19’ Airstream Bambi in superb condition for $23,000, and a beautiful, 2004, 16’ Airstream International CCD Bambi also for $23,000. Both the Airstreams were luxuriously equipped. By the time we ordered the necessary options for the Escape, it too would have tipped the scale toward $23,000. Yet the Escape did not warrant comparison to either of these Airstreams.

Step inside an Escape and an Airstream. The difference is obvious and dramatic. If you intend to use your TT for only a few weeks each summer, an Escape is fine. If, like us, you intend to live in your TT for several months each year, you’ll probably prefer the Airstream. The Escape is adequate. The Airstream is sumptuous. The Escape feels like shelter. The Airstream feels like home. It’s also apparent that while Escapes hold their value, Airstreams are rare and coveted in Canada. Either should be easy to sell, but if I had to sell one or the other, particularly in Canada, I’d feel more confident selling an Airstream.

As for tow vehicles, any on our short list would comfortably pull the 16’ Airstream Sport. But only the Nissan Pathfinder or VW Touareg can manhandle a 19’ Airstream Bambi. The 2011 Touareg is the most fuel-efficient tow vehicle now available: 28 mpg hwy, 19 mpg city. Yet the price of a base “Comfortline” Touareg— $53,000 CDN—was far beyond our means. We figured if we had to switch vehicles, it would be a mistake to opt for one with a mere 5000-lb towing capacity, especially when we could get a rebate on a Pathfinder (towing capacity of 6000 lbs) that made it as affordable as any of our other choices. So we opted for a Pathfinder and a 19’ Airstream.

We left Canada in early December, 2010, driving the Pathfinder. We’d already purchased the Airstream from a couple in San Francisco who were purchasing a motorhome. We picked up the trailer at their house and continued down the California coast.

We’ve now pulled the trailer through dense traffic in L.A., Phoenix and Tucson. Most of the past three months, however, we’ve avoided cities. We’ve primarily camped in state and national-park campgrounds, but we have free-camped. Occasionally we’ve left the trailer and driven the Pathfinder on unpaved roads to remote trailheads.

Our conclusions?

We’re completely satisfied with the Pathfinder and the Airstream. They’ve met or exceeded all our expectations, and we’ve developed a strong affection for both.

We prefer the Pathfinder to the Rav. It’s much more spacious: leg room as well as cargo room. A couple times we’ve slept in it at trailheads, and in this regard it’s far more comfortable than the Rav. It also tracks solidly on the highway, whereas the Rav was slightly skittish. We miss the sports-car-like acceleration of the Rav, but the Pathfinder is no laggard. Best of all, the Pathfinder gets the highway gas mileage we were promised by Nissan: about 22 mpg on its own, and about 16 mpg pulling the trailer. That’s not a big drop from the Rav, which never did better than 26 mpg.

During our travels, we met someone pulling a new, 17’ Casita TT with a Rav identical to the one we owned. He was deeply disappointed because his highway gas mileage had dropped to 11 mpg. It was his first month with the Casita and already he was considering trading up to a more robust TV. His report corroborated our belief that our Rav, despite its stated towing capacity, would not have handled an Escape TT to our satisfaction.

As for the Airstream, it’s superb. It serves us perfectly as a mobile home and office: our company’s winter HQ. It’s intelligently designed, solidly built, highly functional, extremely livable.

The bed is narrower than we’d prefer, but it’s adequate. There’s no kitchen counter space, which can be awkward, but we’ve managed. Though we’d imagined ourselves towing it on unpaved roads to more remote campgrounds and trailheads, we’ve been reluctant to do so. It can probably take the abuse, but we’re disinclined to test it. We prefer to unhitch, leave the trailer behind, and take just the Pathfinder. That’s as critical as we can be of the Airstream, and none of these drawbacks surprised us. We were aware of them long before we purchased it.

We enjoy the Airstream’s spacious dinette. We can leave the table up, rather than be constantly disassembling and reassembling it. We love the panoramic, wrap around, front window. The insulation (including heated, insulated tanks) keeps us comfortable in very cold weather. The shower is huge. So is the fridge. Storage space is vast and convenient. We didn’t think we wanted a vanity/bathroom sink, but we’ve found it useful when the kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes. Even after continually working 30 hours a week in the Airstream, its interior remains very pleasing to us. And the trailer tows beautifully. We use a Reese weight-distribution hitch. No need for an anti-sway device. The Airstream tracks perfectly straight even when huge semis blast by us on the highway.

And the comments we frequently get…

“Love your Airstream!”
“That is the cutest trailer!”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted one of those!”

… are gratifying.

Having never towed anything, we were unnerved the first few days we towed the Airstream. But we quickly got accustomed to it. We’ve safely negotiated narrow, crowded, parking lots. We’ve even learned to back up efficiently, without devolving into the stereotypical wife and husband screaming at each other in the campground. She directs. I follow her directions. So far, no trees, homes, offices, other vehicles or people have been harmed in the process.