Survey Part 1: Leader of the Pack

The following is not a review of any particular brand or model per se but rather of Korean (backcountry) camping gear culture. On my trip to Jangbong-Do on 3 July 2010, I conducted a survey to determine which gear brands were the most popular among the 21 members of Backcountry Camping (BC) who were present. The responses were limited to the gear actually packed for the trip. Because individual BC members tend to have various models of any particular type of item, often from different manufacturers, which they'll alternate depending on the season or whim, the results below are neither definitive nor comprehensive for this particular gathering or Korean campers overall. However, based on my observations from past trips, the results appear to be generally indicative of trends within the community.

First, the backpack. The most popular brand was Gregory with 6, followed by Mystery Ranch with 4.

The backpack is symbolic of Korean camping culture in two respects: first, Korean campers eat Korean food, always and only and completely, which means a full spread of meat, kimchi, rice, dipping pastes, soup/stew, and various banchan (side dishes), not to mention the booze, thus necessitating packs of enormous carrying capacity that may appear excessive if not ludicrous to outsiders (other factors may also account for the large bags, as discussed below); and second, Korean campers are obsessed with brands, especially expensive brands, especially expensive brands that all the other Korean campers are using.

In New York last summer, my backcountry camping journey began with a visit to Paragon Sports, one of the biggest retailers of sporting goods in the city. Although I had been a car camper for some time, I wanted to broaden my horizons beyond the safe and comfortable confines of commercial campsites. The first order of business was to acquire an appropriate pack. When I explained to the sales rep that I would likely be going on short trips, usually overnighters but occasionally as long as three nights, he recommended that I look at packs between 50-60 liters, which were supposedly designed for trips as long as five days. When I asked what the larger 80-100 liter packs were for, he said that they were for extended excursions, like two-week backpacking vacations around Europe. But after filling a 60 liter pack with various display gear around the store, such as a small tent, sleeping bag, pot, etc., I couldn't imagine how food and drinks (particularly booze) would fit on top of it all. With a slightly puzzled look on his face, the sales rep replied that camping foodstuffs--by which he meant beef jerky, nuts, maybe condensed soup--don't take up much volume and Why would you take alcohol on a backpacking trip?!?! In the end, though still somewhat skeptical, I selected the Osprey Atmos 65.

Fast-forward to February of this year, I was packing for my first bonafide backcountry camping trip in Korea, in fact my first encounter with the Backcountry Camping (BC) group, and concluded to myself that I had made the right choice in the backpack, at least as far as size was concerned. Even with the extra layers of winter clothing, I still had sufficient room for canned soup, a package of ramyun (instant noodles), a Ziplock bag of homemade penne, a couple slices of cheese pizza from Costco, a pouch of almonds, a liter of water, a couple cans of Diet Coke, and a half-liter of tequila in a recycled Evian bottle. It would later turn out that my tent (Sierra Design Light Year 1) and sleeping bag (Kovea Traveler III) were wholly inadequate for the weather conditions, which means that the space taken up by a proper winter tent and thicker bag would've left me with significantly less room for food and beverages.

When I arrived at Incheon Ferry Terminal (the trip was for Guleop-Do, which requires two boat rides, with a stop in between at Deokjeok-Do), I was in for a whopping surprise, a cultural shock of sorts. At 65 liters, my Osprey Atmos was the smallest pack of the bunch. My two friends accompanying me on the trip had the next smallest packs with the Gregory Baltoro 70 and Gregory Palisades 80, respectively. Beyond the three of us, the other BC members had brought packs in excess of 100 liters apiece. In the

photo above, the camouflage pack on the left is the Mystery Ranch Kodiak--114 liters (7000 cubic inches). Holy crap. The first thought that flashed through my mind was, What the hell did I forget to pack? I thought I'd secured all the essentials, but these guys had nearly double the capacity, and their bags were packed to the brim. And these guys were experts (or at least experienced), so they must've known something that I didn't. My friends, who were also new to this, were similarly perplexed.

It turns out that the secret of what is in those gargantuan packs is rather disappointingly simple (in some cases). For the most part, the bags are filled with air--literally. As they like to explain with great enthusiasm and not a hint of embarrassment, the guy takes an inflatable mat (the one he sleeps on) (incidentally, the people who do this are most certainly all male) and, instead of deflating it and rolling it up, pumps it full of air and scrolls it within the internal perimeter of the pack to form a padded frame. Then, in addition to the tent and other necessary gear, the guy stuffs goose down parkas, puffy "tent" shoes, and other light but voluminous items to fill out the pack. Essentially, it's the camping equivalent of stuffing a sock down one's trousers. I'm hesitant to make a sweeping generalization here as to what drives these men to do this, but, on the basis of this and subsequent trips, every guy I've seen with one of these packs tends to be on the shorter end of the spectrum--which would seem like more of a reason not to carry such a large bag, as these guys are dwarfed by the huge loads on their backs. But there you have it.

On the other hand, some campers stuff their packs with all manner of food (and beverages), as well as cooking equipment, which is certainly more substantive and useful than lugging air. As to whether that amount of food is reasonable, the answer depends on one's cultural perspective. On that trip to Guleop-Do, for example, one guy who had come alone pulled out a whole roaster-size chicken and a massive stock pot to make chicken stew for dinner, enough to feed four. He would also make clam soup, also enough for four. Whole chicken and clams. Other than rack of lamb, I can't imagine menu choices with worse weight-to-food ratios. And this for the sake of feeding strangers. What an idiot. I opened a can of baked beans.

Fast-forward to July of this year, I was packing for the Deokjeok-Do trip and realized that the Osprey Atmos 65 was laughably inadequate for all the food I was intending on taking with me. Feeling compelled--compelled, mind you, as if I had no choice in the matter--to share a bit of the American backyard BBQ experience on what was to be the 4th of July weekend, I had made chili for chili dogs and wanted to make as many as possible for my fellow BC members. But buns take up volume. As does Jack Daniels. I'm going to need a bigger pack. I had thought the same thing on my prior trip, that time packing spring rolls, ingredients for mabo tofu, and goliangju (a Chinese distilled liquor), as well as a goddamn wok. For this trip, I eventually borrowed my friend's Gregory Palisades 80. Part of it is the personal fun and satisfaction in making food, especially surprising dishes, that others will enjoy. A bigger part is the warmth and appreciation that derives from the communal experience of sharing, especially since I've gotten to know the other members and come to realize with absolute certainty that they would do the same for me.

And so, even at the risk of appearing absurd in the eyes of the uninitiated, I've put in my order for the Mystery Ranch Grizzly--98 liters. I know it's big, and I'll probably be doing the stuffed sock thing on solo trips, especially in the warmer months, but I want to be ready to feed my friends the rest of the time. And just in case, I've also ordered two attachable side pockets--12 liters each. Because you just never know.

One final thought on brand loyalty. The fact that Mystery Ranch, a small not-so-famous internet-based company out of Montana (see link), has such an ardent following here, despite the cost (about $600 for the pack, plus $100 shipping plus $150 in duties) and time (sometimes over 2 months, as each pack is custom made), is a testament to the power of Korean brand loyalty. I don't know when it started, or why, or how, but at some point backpackers got it into their heads that Mystery Ranch is the brand to have, and have it they must, just because everyone else has one. This mindset follows from the same mentality that prompts sales clerks in clothing stores to point to a particular item and tell the prospective customer that it's the best seller, that it's what everyone else is wearing, as an inducement to buy. It's not about just keeping up with the Joneses--it's about copying them outright. A few years back, the popularity of the brand would've been a sufficient if not indisputable reason for me to avoid it. But perhaps living here has had a greater effect on me than I'd realized.