I commented to Craig and a couple of others earlier this afternoon that to me it seems the most embarrassing kind of tramping accident that didn’t necessarily involve idiocy might be to become trapped inside a sleeping bag. It’s just been a pet fear of mine for a while now and something I might one day like to produce a horror movie about. I find something disconcerting about completely zipping oneself up inside a sleeping bag on a cold night without the certainty of being able to locate the zipper in the morning, or having the zipper get stuck on something and refuse to move. For some reason this leads to mental visions of a giant sealed sleeping bag bounding out of the Tararuas.

The reason this topic of conversation arose was because I’ve taken the claustrophobia one layer further and bought myself a nice little bivy bag, primarily for emergencies and as a possible alternative to carrying around my Huntech 2 to 3 person fly as backup shelter when I’m not planning to camp.

I spent two or three weeks scrutinising the options, only to decide there really weren’t very many because New Zealand’s such a small economy, these days nearly everything’s manufactured overseas, and it’s uneconomic for the (usually) one national importer to ever import more than a few models of anything. Eventually I settled on what seems to be the cheapest and lightest bivy bag easily available, which is the Vaude Active Bivy that retails at around $150 before whatever discounts you might be able to get. Apparently it’s not active enough to be listed on the international Vaude website, and mostly seems to be being retailed in New Zealand and the UK from what I can tell. At 500 grams, though, it’s quite nifty for an emergency bivy bag. I’ll see how it goes, and hopefully I won’t get too tangled up inside.

For a while I had my eye on some of the Outdoor Research Bivy Bags. The two most easily available in New Zealand of the current range are their “MicroNight Bivy” (also very light at about 550 grams, and around $250 in NZ — Craig loaned me his to try out) and their “Alpine Bivy” (heavier, slightly more heavy duty with a pole, and about $500 in NZ). The latter seemed overkill for my needs and I wasn’t sure about the former, and after much scrutiny I decided I really wanted their “Aurora Bivy“, which is in the middle. I’m not sure exactly why, possibly that marketing principle of which I forget the name whereby given three options, people will often naturally go for the middle one. I searched around for about a week though, only to discover that it’s not actually being imported into New Zealand, and to do so would be far too complicated and expensive to bother with.

It’s all done now, anyway, and I have a new toy to play with. As with many things, I suppose if it turns out to be not exactly what I want, I won’t have thrown away too much money and I can make a more informed and experienced decision about something else later on.

Whether it’ll stay as a permanent fixture and become a complete Snowgum outlet, or simply remain a temporary clearance outlet, is an open question. I asked one of the people there and she wasn’t completely sure, but she thought they were testing Wellington at the moment to see how it goes and what sort of reaction there is. Perhaps it’ll help to fill part of the void of outdoor retailers at the moment, which has existed since Mainly Tramping and Tisdalls closed down.

This event, and some other recent events, have convinced me that maybe it’s time to fork out some cash and replace the Kathmandu PaceSetter bag that I’ve mostly used recently. I think some people would see the words “Kathmandu” and “Sleeping Bag” in the same sentence (or any gear for that matter), and immediately think that it’s a horrible product. I don’t want to criticise it too much if I can help it, because it’s served me pretty well. At this point I still plan to use it during summer because it’s adequate and probably better suited. It’s usually okay in huts and under an open fly at the low-ish altitudes where I’ve used it, but I can vouch from my own experience that for a sleeping bag that was marketed near the top of the Kathmandu range, I still thought it was… well… flimsy and unreliable, and sometimes cold, at least when it was exposed to places that weren’t under much other shelter.

Consequently, and just in time for mid-Spring (I’m brilliant at timing), I’m now the proud but uncertain owner of a new Macpac Sanctuary 700XP sleeping bag, which I hope will turn out to be more appropriate for some of the winter-like things I want to do in the future. It’s not the warmest bag in the range, but when looking at the relative weights and the loft and down fill, it already seems much warmer than what I already have and without being any heavier.

I say I’m uncertain because I still haven’t made up my mind on what to think about the new Macpac/Fairydown combination. Macpac and Fairydown used to be New Zealand’s two flagship outdoor brands. Unlike many of the imports, they both have a history of having designed and manufactured a lot of gear targeted and suited to New Zealand conditions. It’s also great having brands with relatively local repair shops in New Zealand. For all of this kind of thing they’ve earned a lot of respect from New Zealanders over many years. Having the two traditional competitors spliced into the same company for a streamlined business model just seems weird, though.

For anyone who doesn’t know, last year a company called Mouton Noir (that’s French for “Black Sheep”) purchased the remains of Fairydown, which had gone into liquidation. It aimed to re-design the manufacturing and distribution process and make it competitive once again. This resulted in Fairydown products no longer being available in regular outdoor shops, at least in New Zealand. Mouton Noir eventually opened a small collection of Fairydown retail outlets in major New Zealand centres. They began as Fairydown Liquidation Clearance outlets, but at some point morphed into Fairydown retailers that were selling newly-manufactured products. (I’m not 100% sure if Mouton Noir owned them at the time they were clearance outlets.) I wrote some of my thoughts about this a year ago. I still have mixed feelings about the whole thing, but I’m also coming from my own perspective which isn’t a business perspective, and it sounds as if it’d be difficult for the business to survive any other way, even if it’s sold its soul in a sense.

In February of this year, Mouton Noir also purchased Macpac. Macpac products were immediately withdrawn from all independent outdoor retailers within New Zealand. For a month or so it was sales and clearance galore for existingly-shelved Macpac products, and soon they were all gone. Practically overnight, all of the “Fairydown” retailers suddenly became “Macpac” outlets, to the extent that receipts were still printing with the “Fairydown” name while the signs outside said “Macpac”. Fairydown now exists as a product branding on some of the products in the Macpac shops and seemingly some products are still being manufactured under that brand, but the shops are all called Macpac. As of today, at least in New Zealand, my understanding is that Fairydown and Macpac branded products can now only be bought from the Macpac retailers which exist in various New Zealand centres, or via the Macpac mail order website. (If anyone can correct me on any of this then by all means please do.)

Like many other people, I still don’t have much of a clear idea of exactly what’s going on here or what the implications are, whether it be about the quality of the gear, or the long term business model. There have been a couple of obvious consequences for the Macpac product range since its change of hands, however:

1. Much of the range has disappeared, as Macpac has consolidated things into a few of its former models. This is probably to make things more efficient as the business was being made more viable. For example, since the 2006 catalogue, at least 6 of Macpac’s main range of Tramping packs have disappeared from the menu. (Specifically the Cascade, Glissade, Torre, Traverse, Nikau and Ravine.)

   Perhaps they’ll be back one day if and when the systems get sorted and there’s demand, but for now they don’t seem to be available. This is a shame because if the Macpac Ravine were still available, I think I’d have bought one. It’s a relatively light-weight cut down minimalist single-access tramping pack, which really is ideal for things like pack dragging and bush-bashing compared with all the junky imported packs available on shelves right now. I’ve independently run into quite a few people who swear by Macpac Ravines.

2. Things have gotten cheaper. Notably, my 2008 model of a Sanctuary 700XP sleeping bag is about $200 or $300 cheaper than the previous year’s model. In practice this is great for a consumer because they’re more affordable, but it has made me wonder if the bag being sold under the same model name is actually the same bag, as opposed to something with modifications. I asked the manager in the shop who assured me that it is the same, and that the cheaper price is entirely a reflection of improved and more efficient distribution. It’s made in China, but the old ones were also made in China at least for the last few years, and so is virtually everything that’s imported from overseas these days.

   Also, in this thread over on the Fishing and Hunting website, one of the Mouton Noir people (under the alias of ‘blacksheep’ on page 4 of the discussion) chipped in to re-assure people that it’s only the distribution changes which are affecting the price.

Well, now I have a sleeping bag suitable for colder conditions. Whatever the outcome, I do, at least, expect it to work much more nicely in the cold than my existing one. Since they’ve been shunted around so much, Macpac and Fairydown as brands will really have to earn my trust again, but so far they haven’t produced anything I really didn’t like. I guess time will tell for sure.

It’s true that we were there on a weekend that was noted for its unusually severe weather, and as we were sipped hot chocolate in our toasty lodge, about 2,000 skiers were being hastily evacuated from the mountain. Perhaps I’ll never experience that kind of thing again, but one thing I learned was that the people with proper goggles protecting their faces were a whole lot better off than people like me who’d decided to try and put off getting any. It inspired me to buy some proper snow goggles before my next alpine trip, primarily for a safety thing I suppose, just in case. This will probably be a few weeks away, but I thought I’d try to go shopping now before all the stock’s gone, since it’s getting towards the end of the ski season.

And that’s partly it, I guess. They’re virtually all aimed at skiers and snowboarders, where fashion seems to be something that some people take seriously. Or, at least, the retail displays are designed that way. I was fascinated when I walked into a couple of ski shops and the displays were designed so the only way to differentiate between products was the differing colours and patterns. It wasn’t long before I started getting a little frustrated, though. I’ve never done any skiing or snowboarding before and I’ve never owned any real goggles, and the presentation made it difficult to figure out what the functional differences actually were, let alone choose anything based on features.

I’m not used to this. Lots of people criss-cross between tramping and skiing/snowboarding, but the stereotypical fashion goals, or lack of them, tend to be quite different. I think I’m one of those people who has trouble adjusting. At the very least, I’ve never heard of a recreational skier coming home after several long days of generating sweat and not only being proud that they didn’t need to change their underpants for three whole days, but contemplating if they can possibly cut down on weight to be carried in future because of it.

In the end, I was able to scribble down a few brand names and models, and I came home to research it. Even when I went back into town yesterday and today to have another look at some models, I was asked several times if I’d already been “up to the mountain” yet, which I suppose means Ruapehu. I guess they assumed I wanted them for skiing, which is a fair enough assumption. Maybe I’ll use them for that one day, but I received the occasional blank stares or surprise when I explained that I actually wanted them for alpine tramping.

I have some snazzy looking goggles now, and I went for the fashion choice that suits me best. It feels great to know that someone like me can still look hip and groovy when I scale a slope with an ice axe, crampons, and fashionable goggles. I don’t know for sure if they’ll work as I hope they will, but one thing I learned was that functionality is only a secondary concern with these things.

As you can see, I’m a regular fashion
dynamo when I combine my new goggles
with a trendy balaclava.

It’s likely to be a few weeks before I get a chance to test it out properly, but I’m thinking of wearing them to Kapiti Island next weekend, or possibly to work tomorrow.

The market has become much more aggressive lately, with several other much larger retailers having pushed their way into the local and national scene. Kathmandu is the obvious one, with an aggressive model of pricing things about twice or thrice what they’re worth, and then having heavily promoted seasonal sales in which prices are heavily reduced. During these seasonal sales, the number of customers in the stores appears to go from almost dwindling-empty to bursting at the seams. Kathmandu doesn’t actually sell dedicated tramping gear in the strict sense, and it’s easy to see when walking through a Kathmandu store on the first few days of a sale that the majority of customers are probably looking for practical, comfortable warm clothes and other gear to use around town. This is fair enough, and it’s similar to what I use most of my own Kathmandu purchases for. What it does specialise in is Kathmandu-branded travel things, comfortable Kathmandu-branded around-town clothes, and flashy catalogues full of Kathmandu logos and dominating photos of people fashionably enjoying themselves in other countries. Kathmandu gets close enough to the market, however, that it’s possible to get things that are usually satisfactory enough for tramping, and that’s all that really matters.

This would still be okay, but I suppose what bothers me is the increase in stores which are very specifically branded. It’s not just in the tramping market, either. For instance, there’s now a Levis shop on the corner of Customhouse Quay and Willeston Street. This is just down the road from the local Sony Style retailer, which will sell you any TV, laptop, camera, or whatever electronic goods you desire, as long as it’s made by Sony. (Interestingly it doesn’t sell Sony-branded music, however.) Telecom and Vodafone sell their network-locked phones and plans through independent retailers, but they also try to out-do each other in terms of who can get the most dedicated branded phone shops within the radius of the CBD. It’s entirely a marketing thing, since they want to make sure people remember to buy a new phone, and that they don’t forget the brand when they’re walking down the street. Somewhere along the line, manufacturers have discovered that rather than go through the proxy of independent retailers, it’s more efficient for them to force their way into the retail front line, market themselves directly in the face of consumers, and pick up retail prices while they’re at it.

Tramping shops probably aren’t quite the same, since they’re more like retailers getting into manufacturing rather than manufactures getting into retail. It seems as if it’s easier for the larger retailers to have their own products made cheaply overseas (possibly in the same factories as the branded stuff), have their own name slapped on it, and then sell it at a higher margin than they would if they’d gone through a manufacturer. These are the likes of Kathmandu, Mountain Designs (which does sell non-MD-branded things, to be fair), and apparently now the new Fairydown retailers which are coming our way. All of these are branded retailers focus on selling their own branded products, and it seems as if the new model is part of what’s been making it harder for independent retailers to survive. They’re also bigger retailers, and that often (but not always) seems to correspond with less experience in the retail staff.

What I guess I find most disturbing is that unlike the smaller independent shops, I don’t really feel as if I can go into any of these places and get an honest opinion about what’s actually right for me. It’s also becoming more difficult to actually see or play with products that don’t fall under a particular retailer’s branding umbrella, because there’s less incentive for a branded retailer to stock products that compete with their own stuff and which might sell at a smaller margin. It’s still possible to get other things by looking around a bit further, and hopefully the market will sort itself out in the longer term. Wellington now has an R&R Sport on Victoria Street. (This is currently a clearance store and I’m not sure if there are plans to change that.) There are also a couple of other Wellington retailers (Bivouac, Gordons, Dwights) which haven’t gone anywhere, and if that’s not enough it’s still possible to travel a bit further afield.

Anyway, food for thought.

This trip was the first proper trip that I took them on. I had a couple of blisters by the end of it, but otherwise they were okay. On the following weekend though, I went for a daywalk over the Skyline Walkway, and by the end of it, I noticed that some glue was coming un-stuck around a seam in the rubber lining on the inside of the base of one of the boots. What was worse was that having come un-stuck, the loose bit of rubber was catching on the hook for the lace of the other boot, which made the problem even worse. On closer inspection, it also became apparent that a very similar seam on the outside of the other boot was also coming apart.

I took them back to the retailer on the following Monday who took a quick look and agreed about the problem, took some details, and arranged to get them fixed with an estimated time of about 5 days. This was a bit annoying to hear, because it’d mean I probably wouldn’t have them for my High Ridge trip the following weekend, but there wasn’t much option so I just lived with it. In the end, I waited two weeks without hearing anything, and it was only because I’d drowned my phone in the Rimutakas that I went in again on Monday and asked to leave a different phone number, that I found out they’d just arrived. So essentially this flaw in the boots cost me two weekends of trips, pretty much so they could fly to Christchurch to get a dab of glue, then fly back.

I finally had them back again for the trip to the Pinnacles in the Aorangis, and they worked okay. As I was in the middle of the Lewis Pass trip the following weekend, though, I noticed that one of the seams had come apart again. So on Tuesday (Monday was a public holiday), I took them straight back to the retailer, wanting to get them fixed as quickly as possible, as I had another trip planned two weekends later. I was told that they were too damp though, and that the distributor in Christchurch would growl at them if they tried to send them back in that state. For as much as I don’t really blame the retailer, being told this was incredibly frustrating. I was basically being told that having used them for exactly the purpose for which they were marketed, and having them fail due to what seems increasingly like a design flaw, that the manufacturer wouldn’t fix them immediately. To add to this, nobody except me would probably count the extra four days that it took to properly dry them out.

I finally returned them on the next Saturday and asked for a refund, but I don’t think I’ll get it. Two weeks later, I’m still waiting to hear anything and I’m about to go overseas. For me at least, Salomon Alp 7 GTX boots have lasted an average of two weekend trips before needing to be returned for maintenance, and then I lose between two and three weekends. This is very very frustrating, and I’m regretting ever having bought them.

I’m not 100% sure if it’s because I’ve been walking up and down a lot of steep hills, or if it’s because they’re not really up to getting submerged and mudded up a lot on a weekend (after which I dry them out during the week). Both of these are common things in New Zealand’s back-country, and any boots sold here under the guise of “tramping boots” should be fine with that, but these ones don’t seem to have handled it very well. It’s possible I may have just been unlucky and ended up with a bad pair. My confidence in them is gone, though, and I wouldn’t buy the same pair again unless the glued seam problem is properly sorted.