When filled to the brim with every last piece of essential equipment, my 65-liter pack weighs in at approximately 25 pounds. For those that can’t easily picture such an arbitrary figure, that’s the equivalent of roughly three brimming gallons of water; or 31 Patagonia Synchilla Snap-T Pullovers; or 167 Clif Bars, depending on the flavor.
To some, 25 pounds might seem like a relatively manageable number, but to a growing body of outdoor enthusiasts, heavy gear like mine is reserved for history. As cottage brands and established outfitters introduce lightweight fibers and fabrics that are assessed not in pounds, but grams and ounces, the outdoor industry is slowly but surely parting ways with the burdensome gear it once considered revolutionary. If you need any proof of this shift towards embracing ultralight gear, simply peruse the backpacking setups found on ultralight forums, where base weights (that is, the weight of an entire backpacking setup excluding food and water) rarely exceed 12 pounds for trips spanning weeks or months.
Before we forget why we first fell in love with all the aging outdoor gear that’s shrinking in the shadow of ultralight hardware, let us take a moment to remember what makes heavy, hulking, beefy, portly, plump equipment so special; it’s not the craftsmanship, the quality, or the comfort, but a combination of all three (and then some). I, for one, continue to embrace and defend heavy gear, regardless of the added weight—let me tell you why.