Blue Ice Yeti 45 review

Reviewed by Jerry Johnson (one of my very first climbing mates)




Here is what I really like about the Blue Ice Yeti 45 –
throw anything in it and don’t worry about screws poking out or crampons
tearing through. Frankly, I am tired of the ultra light pack I need to watch
around sharp implements, branches during the inevitable bushwhack, or ski
edges. There will no need to constantly
patch this pack with Aqua Seal and a hodgepodge of Cordura scraps.












































Readers of this blog are well acquainted with Blue Ice. They
build a few specialized products for the alpine world. I already use the Boa
leash and the 27 liter Warthog. The Yeti is their solution to the need for a
pack for bigger loads up to overnight. Like
any well designed pack it carries just fine and has the usual features we like.
Two compression straps, a waterproof zipper down the front for quick access to
spare gloves (something I am learning to appreciate with use), and an
adequately padded, and removable, hip belt with a accessory pocket. Most packs nowadays share these and additional
features. The design crew for the Yeti did a couple things with these features
I really appreciate.



The lid is, of course, removable via four Fast Tex style
nylon buckles made by Duraflex. A gripe I always seem to have in these systems
is that the lid doesn’t cinch down as tight over the pack as I would like. Most
of the time when I have a partially loaded pack I just tuck the lid insight and
cinch it shut but, for moderate loads when you use the lid as intended, most
lids fit sloppy at the back, flop around and don’t really seal all that well.
On the Yeti, they sewed the rear lid buckles slightly further down the back so
the lid fits as it should. Mine didn’t come with two zipper slides on the main
pocket but they should in future production runs.





Speaking of strappage. The pack came with two long webbing
straps for attaching crampons or whatever. Many packs have some daisy chained
webbing that works well enough but involve a lot of extra sewing and so
expense. The strap tie on points on the Yeti are stellar. The base is a thin
neoprene impregnated nylon with well formed loops. Threading webbing or a Voile
strap is a no brainer and clearly they are strong enough for haul loops if
needed. Here is a request for Blue Ice – make straps out of the neoprene
material with strong steel buckles. They would replace the old Beck Crampon
Straps we used in the 70’s and still in use as accessory straps today. I’d buy
them. And one other thing – I wish pack manufacturers would sew straps with a
little extra on the ends. I seem to always strain compression straps to their
full extent and a little extra webbing to grab on to would be very cool.





Reflecting the alpine roots, the pack has two small gear
loops on the pack straps. I didn’t like them. They make the pack harder to get
in and out of and I don’t quite see the point. I sometimes climb with a bandoleer
system but these just seem to get in the way and make rack changeovers just
that much more complicated. Others may feel differently and should give them a
go. There are gear loops inside the pack but again, I don’t see the need. I
hadn’t owned a pack with the new school axe system and was skeptical but they
work well with my Quarks – easy off/easy on.
Frame is a plastic sheet with two metal stays. I recently
swapped it out for a piece of foam and it seems to work just as well, offers a
bivi pad, and saves a few ounces. Again, it likely comes down to a personal
preference or need.




Blue Ice gear is bomber – really well sewn and finished. My
only real gripe is that the black color makes it hard to see in the pack in dim
light. Not a deal breaker by any means.

Spider poetry

One morning we awoke to find that spiders had woven diamonds during our sleep.

Frozen Fog

3 mornings this week we woke to find a strange world of frozen fog. We couldn't see any farther than our own yard. It was as if the world didn't exist anymore beyond our place. It gave a odd, fantasy-like feel to everything. I took some photos but they don't have the true feel that I was getting as I wondered about. Within a few hours the fog was mostly gone but it was still dark, dreary days. It made me want to hybernate instead of getting out to finish my Christmas shopping.

Raindrop

I took this photo after our rain last Friday morning. You can see some of the other tree branchs in the raindrop

Metate Arch, Devil's Garden

After our hike in Little Wild Horse Canyon we headed through Capitol Reef National Park then south toward the town of Escalante. We stopped at the BLM visitor center in Escalante and picked up a few maps for the area where we were planning to go over the next few days. We also filled up our two 7-gallon water containers and inquired about where we were allowed to camp once we were in the interior of the monument. Once our questions were answered and we were stocked up on necessary supplies we headed for Hole in the Rock Road. Our first hike was only about 10 miles down the dirt surface of the road, which was also near "Devil's Garden", an "Outstanding Geologic Area" according to the sign marking the turn-off to Devil's Garden. We found a place to camp near the garden then hiked down to check out the sandstone formations that make up this unique location.





































Devil's Garden certainly is an outstanding area, with interesting sandstone "hoodoos" everywhere you look. There are also a couple of arches, the most interesting of which is "Metate Arch". As arches go it's not a very big one, but it is beautiful. I photographed Jessica standing under the arch to provide a sense of scale. After wandering amongst the hoodoos until just after sunset, we then hiked back up to our camp to wait for our friend Roger, who was the best man in our wedding and would be joining us for tomorrow's hike to Zebra and Tunnel slot canyons.

Climbing Muscles? Perhaps

When I began to do long hilly rides, I acquired a nemesis: the Mysterious Pain. This pain would get me even when my legs were strong and my energy levels were high. It would get me when least expected, ruining countless rides and limiting my progress.




I have never experienced anything quite like it before. It wasn't so much of a pain even, as an alarming sensation of seizing, not so much in my lower back as below it. If you draw an imaginary horizontal line perpendicular to the top of the butt crack, the sensation was along that line, in two distinct spots on the left and right, symmetrical.




The first time I experienced it in earnest was during a 100 mile overnight ride to Maineearly last summer. It came on around mile 70 and was so debilitating I had to stop on the side of the road and stretch every 10 miles to keep going.




Mystery pains are a source of fascination to cyclists, and I talked about mine with a slew of local riders. At the time the consensus was that I had increased my milage too quickly and hadn't the upper body strength to handle it. So I spent the rest of the summer sticking to sub-100K rides, but doing them with more frequency to build up strength and muscle tone. I am not sure this had any effect. It may have worked subtly, but at the time I felt somewhat stagnant and dispirited. I wanted, very badly, to do longer rides. And I felt strong; my legs would seldom get tired on a bike. But this strange pain/ seizing sensation was like a brick wall I kept hitting:No sooner would I attempt a long ride with lots of climbing, it would return.




This Spring I began riding more than ever. Short rides, long rides, paved rides, dirt rides, club rides, brevets... I thought I was riding a lot before, but now I was practically living on my bike. Disappointingly, the mystery pain was still there - though I'd now learned to manage it with strategically timed stops and stretching. On the 200K brevet, I'd pull over on the side of the road every so many miles so that I could bend over backwards and do some quick twists before continuing. That was all it took to stop the discomfort for the next so many miles, so stopping was better than not stopping: If I did nothing about it and continued riding it would only slow me down.




Having witnessed this riding next to me on the 200K, my friend Pamela suggested that the problem could be insufficiently developed "climbing muscles" - something she herself had experienced at one time. Rather than related to distance, the discomfort could be brought on by long stretches of climbing - which are of course more likely to occur on long distance rides.




There were other suggestions from riding companions at this time: That my gears were too high. That my saddle was too hard. That my position on the bike was too aggressive. And that climbing seated was the real issue.




At that point I decided to take an aggressive approach and try everything. The suggestion that my roadbike position was causing the discomfort worried me, because I otherwise found it so comfortable. But a few strategic rides helped me eliminate that as the cause: I was able to bring about the same pain on more upright bikes (even my Brompton) if I used higher gears when climbing for a prolonged period of time. So gearing had a lot more to do with it than position. I now also knew for certain that the source of the problem wasn't the long distance, but the long, repeated climbs. In Ireland I found that I could bring about the pain within as little as 20 miles, if they were "quality miles" with respect to elevation gain.




In short, the climbing muscles diagnosis seemed the most probable. But how to develop them? I was not willing to go to the gym to work on my "core," and so far just continuing to ride the way I'd been wasn't helping.




Staying in Ireland took care of the problem. Here I did not continue to ride the way I'd been, but, with some guidance, began to do more focused riding - both faster and with more climbing - on a more or less daily basis. I learned how to use gears more efficiently. And I also finally learned how to stand out of the saddleand began practicing that every ride.




One result of all this has been a subtle, but significant transformation to my body within a very short time period. The changes to my legs did not surprise me - after all, that is what we expect from cycling. But I did not expect the changes to my midriff. My abdomen has gone flat and there are these weird thin horizontal muscles wrapping around the sides of my torso, front and back - where the "love handles" used to be,if you will. I have never had muscle definition in this area before, and it all looks and feels absolutely bizarre, as if my body isn't really mine.But existential analyses aside, whatever's happened it has solved the mystery pain problem. No more. It's just gone - regardless of whether I climb standing or seated, in a low gear or high. Just to make sure, this past week I've made it a point to do hilly rides without getting out of the saddle at all, like in the old days (meaning entire months ago). But that seizing sensation below the lower back is now just a memory.




So... climbing muscles. What are they exactly? I imagine some combination of abdominal and lower back muscles. For some they might be naturally well developed. For most they are probably average. And for some, like myself, they could be underdeveloped - requiring lots of work to get up to par. Happily, I love riding and doing this "work." And I love it that this limitation is finally gone.

Pictured Rocks :: Miners Castle

Friday, August 5th - - It was about a 50-mile drive from the campground at Indian Lake to the western end of the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. It was a beautiful day. My intent was to take a 2 ½ hour Boat Cruise along the coast of Lake Superior but I turned right at the intersection instead of left and ended up at the only “pictured rock” that is visible from shore – Miner's Castle.





The view from the overlook was magnificent! The water in the cove was so clear you could see the bottom – a sign stated that the average depth was 25 feet and it dropped off rapidly from the shoreline. If you look closely you can see some people lounging on the rocky shoreline and some were floating in the crystal clear water.





A close-up view of Miner's Castle – some of the people are more visible.



These three swimmers were almost directly below – they are there – in the middle of the photo. Can you see the canoe on the shore? It is to the left of the large clump of leaves on the right. I walked down to the lower overlook but was not impressed. There really wasn't much of a view at all from there.





Then I drove a short distance to the parking lot for Miner's Beach. Nary a spot to park and people parking where they really shouldn't have! So, not to be put off completely, I went back to the intersection and turned the other way to the parking lot for a lakeside trail. Several parking spots were available so I grabbed one of them and headed off. The trail lead to the cove shown above. It was another 1.5 miles to Miner's Beach but I stopped off here for a while. And lingered. There were only half a dozen other people there and some of them left after a while. Soon I was the only one there!





Discarding shoes and socks and rolling up the pants legs, I strolled along the water's edge. The wet sand was like walking in quicksand. It grabbed your feet and held them tight. Then the water washed over the sand and released them. Venturing out a little further into the water there was a layer of smooth rocks along the shore and walking was much easier. Never mind that the pants got wet well above the knees! It felt so good in the 80 degree sunshine!



I lingered there for several hours absorbing the sun's rays and enjoying the cooling breeze. Sorry, Carol, but there will be no photos of the Pictured Rocks from a boat - I never made it to the dock!