Gadling gear review: The Osprey Stratos 24 Backpack

As an active traveler, I have grown to have a certain affinity for backpacks. In fact, I have one for just about every occasion, ranging from small daypacks for short hikes on local trails to full-on expedition level packs designed for weeks, or even months, in the field. Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate a well designed, versatile pack that not only fits well, but also offers you plenty of storage options in an easy to access and clearly defined way. With the right pack, an active trip can be a very pleasant experience, while the wrong pack can be an endless source of frustration.

Recently, whenever I’ve been in the market for a new pack, I’ve found myself gravitating to those made by Osprey, a company that has been designing great outdoor gear for nearly four decades. A few months back, I added their Stratos 24 daypack to my gear closet, and after testing it out extensively on three continents, I can honestly say that I’m in love.

The first thing that you’ll notice about the Stratos 24, or pretty much any Osprey pack for that matter, is the fantastic build quality. These are packs that are built to last and they can withstand whatever you throw at them. Case in point, in the five months I’ve owned my Stratos, I’ve taken it cross country skiing in Yellowstone, hiking in Colorado, on safari in South Africa, and volcano climbing in Chile, not to mention a couple of day hikes in Texas as well. After all of those adventures, it still looks practically brand new, with nary a scuff mark on it.The second thing that you’re likely to notice about the Stratos is that there are an awful lot of belts, straps, and chords dangling from the pack. These can be a bit daunting at first, especially if this is your first outdoor oriented bag, but they each have a purpose that becomes clear when you start to adjust them. For instance, as you would expect, the Stratos has a belt that goes around your waist, as well as a strap that crosses your chest. When both of these are used in conjunction with the adjustable shoulder straps, you’ll be able to accurately fit the pack to your body, making it comfortable to wear for extended periods of time. There are also straps for carrying an ice axe (handy for the serious climber) and a pair of external belts for strapping gear, such as a pair of snowshoes, to the outside of the bag as well. Add in a tow loop for the adventure racing crowd, and gear loops for your trekking poles, and it can be a dizzying affair just to get acquainted with the pack. But after using it a time or two, it’ll all make sense, and you’ll be adjusting everything with ease.

Osprey didn’t skimp on the storage options either, as the Stratos includes a large internal compartment for carrying most of your gear, along with two zippered pockets on the pack itself. Additionally, there are two small mesh pockets on the hipbelt, as well as another on the right shoulder strap, that help keep small items, such as energy bars, a multi-tool or a camera, within easy reach. I personally appreciated all of these options, as the pack allows me to comfortably carry all of my important gear, including a DSLR camera, extra clothing, food, and more. Other features include a built in hydration sleeve that holds a two liter water bladder and an integrated raincover that helps keep your gear dry in inclement weather.

One of the more impressive aspects of the Stratos is the ventilation system built onto the back of the pack itself. Designed to help keep you cool by allowing air to flow, between your body and the bag, this system proves to be a most welcome addition on trips to warmer climes. I’ve used similar ventilation options on larger backpacks before, but this is the first time I’ve encountered such an effective one on a smaller daypack. On longer adventures, it can really make a difference in how comfortable you are on the trail.

The Stratos is a very versatile pack that works well not only on the trail, but as a carry-on item on a plane as well. When I’ve used it while traveling, I’ve loaded it up with my laptop, iPad, DSLR, lenses, and other fragile equipment I simply don’t want to risk checking with the airlines. Fortunately this lightweight bag offers plenty of capacity to comfortably carry all of that gear as well, and it still fits nicely under the seat in front of you. That means that when I reach my destination, I can take out the tech gadgets, throw in my outdoor gear, and head off for the wilderness without the need of yet one more pack.

If I had one knock against the Stratos however, it would be that all of those belts and straps that I mentioned above are excessively long and can get in the way at times. In fact, after I’ve adjusted them to fit my body, they still tend to dangle all over the place. This became a bit of an issue recently when I fed the pack through an x-ray machine at an airport, and one of the straps got caught in the conveyor belt. Needless to say, the TSA agent was not amused.The issue can be avoided by shortening the straps when not using the pack on the trail, but it is a bit inconvenient to have to adjust them so often.

Other than that, the Stratos is quite possibly the best daypack I’ve ever used. Everything about this bag demonstrates refinement that only comes from years of evolving design and a clear understanding of the needs of your customers. Osprey has built a pack that is versatile, comfortable, and nearly indestructible. They even back it up with a lifetime guarantee. What more could ask for out of any piece of travel gear?

The Osprey Stratos 24 retails for $99 and is also available in a 26, 34, and 36 liter sizes as well.

Climbing a Chilean volcano

Earlier this week a volcano erupted along the border of Chile and Argentina, sending ash and smoke into the sky, and disrupting air travel throughout the region. The images that we’ve seen from that eruption have been both beautiful and terrifying in their displays of raw natural power, reminding us that the Earth ultimately still controls our fate. That sentiment hit home particularly for me, as less than a week before the mountain blew its top, I was climbing a similar volcano not far to the north.

At the time, I was visiting the Atacama Desert, an amazingly diverse destination with a number of fantastic landscapes to explore. The region is one one of the driest on the planet, thanks to a natural rain shield from the Andes on the east and the Domeyko Range on the west. But amongst those surrounding peaks are a number of volcanoes, both active and extinct. Having a bit of a pre-disposition toward high altitude adventures, I had made a goal for myself to climb one of those volcanoes while in the area, selecting the 18,645 foot El Toco as my challenge.

Fortunately, El Toco is an extinct volcano, having blown its top thousands of years in the past. Because of this, its summit profile is flatter and not so imposing as some of the more jagged, pointy peaks that ring the Atacama. The approach along its south ridge is also a non-technical route, meaning I wouldn’t need any special skills or gear to reach the top, just a good pair of boots and a decent level of conditioning.

The biggest obstacle in the climb would be the altitude, but after spending several days acclimatizing throughout the Atacama, I felt that I should be ready to give it a go. I’ve been at high altitude before, and seldom have any real issues, although the day before I was to climb I was feeling a bit under the weather, which put serious doubts into whether or not I should even make the attempt. Luckily, I felt much better on the morning of the climb, and while I wasn’t at 100%, I also didn’t want to give up an opportunity to scale Toco. After all, when would I be back in the Atacama again?Later in the day I met up with my guide, an accomplished young climber by the name of Gustavo, and he and I hit the road for the mountain. It turned out that no one else was interested in climbing with us that day, which meant that not only could we go at our own pace, we would likely be the only two people going to the summit that day. Both of those factors made me feel even better about my chances of topping out.

About an hour into the drive from San Pedro, the unofficial capitol of the Atacama, to El Toco, we suddenly veered off the smooth, well-paved highway, and onto a bumpy, narrow dirt road. We has been steadily climbing for some time, and my ears had already popped on more than one occasion, but we still had some distance to go before we started our trek. San Pedro is located at 8035 feet above sea level, but we were driving up to 16,500 feet, where we would find the trail that would take us to the top of the volcano. That would be a significant altitude gain before we ever started to hike, and I would know very quickly if I had recovered from how poorly I had been feeling the day before.

Eventually our truck rolled to a stop, and we jumped out to finish preparing for the climb. After slathering our faces and necks in sunscreen, and pulling on an extra layer for warmth, Gustavo and I organized our backpacks, grabbed our trekking poles, and hit the trail. As we began our ascent, he advised me that we should go at a slow but steady pace and that it would take roughly 2 – 2.5 hours to reach the top.

Once we started moving, I immediately realized that I was feeling good and the sluggishness of the day before was long gone. I followed behind Gustavo, and kept going at a measured pace, breathing in and out slowly and working to maintain my breath. The thin air was definitely noticeable, and there were times when I felt like I couldn’t get a deep enough breath to keep going, but those moments soon passed, and we made very sure and steady progress towards our goal.

In my previous high altitude excursions I learned several valuable lessons. In addition to keeping a measured pace, I also discovered it was best to avoid looking up towards the summit too often. It can be quite discouraging to see how far away your goal is when you are struggling to make progress and catch your breath. With that in mind, I concentrated on using my trekking poles to cross the loose rock scree and navigate the patches of snow and ice that were common along our route. On occasion, we would stop for a moment or two, and I’d glance up to see how we were doing, but for the most part, I kept my head down and stayed focused on the ascent.

About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, we broke clear of a sheltering ridge, and the full force of the winds started to buffet us. Not only were they strong and constant, they were also quite cold. It seemed that the final leg of the trip would be a chilly one. But we were making great progress and the views around Toco were spectacular to say the least. While I might not let my eyes stray up to the summit, I definitely was drinking in all the sights unfolding below us.

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Gustavo and I found ourselves on the trail to the top of the peak. I glanced at my watch and was surprised to find that we had only been climbing for about an hour and fifteen minutes. We had actually reached the summit, located at 18,645 feet, in about half the time that it typically takes, which was a sure sign that we were feeling good and moving more quickly than I had thought. It was a great feeling to walk out onto the summit and look down into Chile, Bolivia, and Argentina simultaneously, with a bright clear, blue sky surrounding us in all directions. The horizon was dominated with mountains in all directions, and more than one had a plume of dark smoke rising from the top. Active volcanoes, biding their time.

Gustavo and I shook hands and took out our cameras. Snapping a few photos from the summit and laughing at how quickly we had managed to bag the peak. Dropping our backpacks, we settled in behind the shelter of a large rock, and enjoyed a cup of tea, well protected from the howling winds. We stayed there for 35 minutes, chatting, relaxing, and just enjoying the view, before we decided we had better head back down. As the day goes on, the winds would continue to pick up, and temperatures would drop even further. Having completed what we had set out to do, we turned back down El Toco and for home.

Now, any mountaineer will tell you that climbing to the summit is only halfway to the finish line. While the descent was a quick one, taking just 20 minutes to return to our vehicle, it still offered up its challenges. Sliding down across the ice and rocks makes it more difficult to keep your footing than when you’re moving up, and the winds were conspiring against us even as we retreated away from the summit. But for the most part, it was a relatively routine descent, and we were soon on our way back to San Pedro for a much deserved cerveza.

All in all, climbing Toco was easily one of my most enjoyable days in the Atacama. It was a wonderful experience that fulfilled the promise of great views and an overwhelming sense of satisfaction at the top. If you’re traveling in the region, and have the time to both acclimatize and make the climb, I highly recommend that you do so. And for the more experienced mountaineers, there are plenty of fantastic routes and mountains to enjoy as well.

Who knew that I’d come to the desert and discover great mountains as well?

The Atacama Desert: Chile’s Other Adventure Destination


When adventure travelers reveal a list of their top destinations, Chile is often amongst the favorites. The South American country is well known for its majestic landscapes, remote, wild places, and adrenaline inducing activities. In the south, Patagonia is widely considered one of the best backpacking and climbing destinations on the planet and Punta Arenas, the southernmost city in the world, is the jumping off point for travelers heading to Antarctica. But what many don’t realize is that the northern part of Chile may be the country’s best kept travel secret.

Far to the north, nestled along the borders of Bolivia and Argentina, lies the Atacama Desert, a destination that offers an amazing a mix of natural beauty and cultural emersion. The Atacama has the unique distinction of being the driest place on the planet, thanks to a rain shadow created by the Andes Mountains and Chile’s Domeyko range, which stretches along its Pacific coast. Those two mountain ranges conspire to block storm clouds from moving over the Atacama, and as a result, there are places in the desert that have not seen rain in recorded history.

But that doesn’t mean the Atacama is a desolate wasteland. Far from it in fact! Rainfall in the surrounding mountains does run off into the valleys below, creating an oasis and bringing a surprising amount of life to certain areas. Centuries ago, those oasis’s attracted human settlements, some of which still exist to this day, including San Pedro de Atacama, the unofficial capital of the region.

In many ways, San Pedro is a typical tourist town. Its streets are lined with small shops, packed with all manner of goods, including a dizzying array of handcrafted jewelry, scarves, pottery, and other local items. Industrious shopkeepers compete with one another to find ways to separate you from your pesos, while packs of stray dogs wander the narrow alleyways. A small museum offers insights into the evolution of the Atacama region and an unofficial North Face gear store provides overpriced adventure apparel for those who forgot to pack the proper gear. Still, there is a certain charm about the place, and you’ll soon find yourself settling into one of the sidewalk cantinas, enjoying a cold cerveza or pisco sour, and watching the world go by.The town of 4000 residents also serves as base camp for your adventures in the Atacama Desert. In addition to the small shops, you’ll also find plenty of tour operators, each promising to show you the local sights. For example, you’ll be able to book excursions to visit the nearby salt flats or geyser basin, as well as rent mountain bikes or go sandboarding on one of the towering dunes. The more adventurous may want to explore the desert on horseback or take a trek though one of the gorges that are so prolific throughout the area. If you’re really up for a challenge, try bagging the summit of one of the many volcanoes that ring the Atacama. Most tower over 18,000 feet in height, with routes that range from a simple walk-up to a full-fledged, technical mountaineering experience.

While the array of activities available in the Atacama is quite impressive, it is the landscapes themselves that will likely leave you with the most lasting impressions. There simply aren’t enough superlatives to express the degree of diversity and beauty that can be found there. You’ll continually be amazed at how the terrain can vary from dry and desolate to lush and fertile, and yet still remain so incredibly breathtaking, and just when you think you’ve seen everything it has to offer, the desert will surprise you with something new once again.

A spectacular natural light show, provided by the rising and setting sun, paints the desert in incandescent reds, yellows, and browns, that simply have to be seen to be believed. In that light, the natural landscaped glowed like no other place I’ve seen in my travels, adding yet another dimension to an already amazing place.

And when the sun goes down, and those lovely landscapes are blanketed in complete darkness, one only has to glance upwards towards the heavens for your next breathtaking view. The skies above the Atacama are clear and open, offering a view of the night sky that is quite possibly unrivaled by any other place on Earth. The stars are countless in number and appear in layers like some kind of epic 3D projection that can normally be seen only at your local planetarium. The Milky Way makes an appearance as well, painting a bright white streak overhead, while constellations only visible in the Southern Hemisphere twinkle back at viewers below. It is an awe inspiring and humbling sight to say the least.

If my description of the Atacama Desert has you intrigued, then there are a few things you should know before you go. For starters, even the desert floor is located at altitude, which can be an issue for some travelers. San Pedro, for instance, is situated at just above 8000 feet, which can have a significant impact on your visit if you’re unprepared. It is not uncommon for visitors to experience slight altitude sickness upon arrival, so spend the first few days acclimatizing before trying any overly active pursuits. A shortness of breath or mild headaches are typical symptoms, both of which tend to go away after a day or two. (On the plus side, alcohol tends to have more of an effect at altitude as well, making San Pedro a great place to tie one on!)

Getting to the Atacama is a fairly simple affair. You’ll want to book your flights through Chile’s capital, Santiago and then continue on to Calama, a small mining town on the edge of the desert. From there, it is an easy one-hour drive to San Pedro, where your adventure will truly begin. The drive in will give you an excellent glimpse of what the desert has in store for you as well.

In a testament to just how off the beaten path the Atacama is for most travelers, while checking in for my overnight flight from Miami to Santiago recently, the ticket agent noticed the second leg of my journey on to Calama, and actually asked me where it was I was going. He didn’t recognize the airport code and said that he had never booked a passenger through to that destination. I had to explain to him exactly where I was flying, which was a bit surprising considering I was about to board a Chilean based airline, with Chilean’s working the counter.

My experience wasn’t much different after my arrival in San Pedro either. Once there, I met plenty of visitors from within Chile itself, as well as Brazil. There were also travelers from as far away as Japan, the U.K. and Fiji, but very few Americans. In fact, the only other person from the States that I ran into was another travel writer working on a story of her own. It seems for now, the Atacama Desert is virtually unknown to American travelers.

But for anyone looking for a fantastic destination with a lot to offer, minus the large crowds, Chile’s northern region is an exceptional choice. Just be fair warned, with its spectacular landscapes and boundless opportunities for adventure, the Atacama may spoil you for similar destinations in the future.

Ten Can’t Miss Hikes Courtesy of the National Parks Foundation and Merrell

Just in time for National Trails Day, the National Parks Foundation and outdoor gear company Merrell, have announced their ten “can’t miss” hikes for the summer ahead. As you can imagine, each of these trails can be found inside a national park, and each makes for a fantastic experience guaranteed to wow outdoor enthusiasts and casual trekkers alike.

The ten trails are located in a variety of places across the country, which means that there is likely to be one of these routes located in your region, no matter where you live in the U.S. They also cross through a wide variety of environments, including mountains, deserts, caves, and more. The shortest of the routes is a mere 650 yards in length, while the longest stretches for five miles through scenic California backcountry, ensuring there is something for everyone on the list.

The ten can’t miss hikes, according to the NPF and Merrell, are as follows:

1. Painted Desert Rim Trail (1 Mile)
Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona

2. Wapama Falls (5 Miles)
Yosemite National Park, California

3. Rim Rock Nature Trail (1 Mile)
Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Colorado

4. Turtle Mound Trail (.3 Miles)
Canaveral National Seashore, Florida

5. General Bragg Trail (5 Miles)
Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park, Georgia
6. Interdune Boardwalk (650 Yards)
White Sands National Park, New Mexico

7. Canyons Trail (3.5 Miles)
Jewel Cave National Monument, South Dakota

8. Dog Canyon Trail (4 Miles)
Big Bend National Park, Texas

9. Andrews Bald Trail (3.5 Miles)
Great Smokey Mountains, Tennessee

10. Ocean Path Trail (4 Miles)
Acadia National Park, Maine

There you have it! Ten great trails in ten great national parks locations. Any one of these hikes are a fantastic way to spend National Trails Day, or any other day this summer for that matter. So lace up your hiking boots and get a move on!

What is your favorite trail?

[Photo Credit: chensiyuan via WikiMedia]

Five trekking options for adventurers with bad backs

If you’ve got a bad back or neck–and many of us do–it can make certain aspects of travel challenging, especially if you’re otherwise healthy and active. Perhaps the most frustrating issue for adventure travelers such as myself is being limited to day hikes, unless there are overnight options that don’t involve humping a 50-pound-plus backpack into the wilderness.

I suffered a moderately severe back injury in 1994, which has been exacerbated over the years by my recreational/occupational pursuits and being a general spaz (a fall on ice led to months of physical therapy). While I travel with a 35-pound backpack, it’s always for relatively short distances. When it comes to trekking, I know my limit is about 10 pounds, in a daypack.

Yet I love few things more than backpacking and trekking. Over the years, I’ve found ways to circumvent my back issues, and in the process, have taken some truly mind-blowing trips (as well as excelled, physically). There are those who consider it cheating if you don’t carry your own gear, but I’m willing to bet they haven’t experienced the joys of a herniated disc, whiplash, or spinal stenosis. Ignore the naysayers, and look into these rewarding options. Happy trails!

Note: I don’t want to underplay the importance of being physically fit and well-conditioned for a trek. You need to be able to walk long distances, on often steep, difficult terrain at very high altitude (depending upon itinerary). Any reputable company will provide you with an outline on conditioning for your adventure. Please be honest (with yourself, and them) about your abilities.

Use a porter
Outfitters in many locales, such as the Inca Trail, the Himalayas, or Kilimanjaro rely on porters to haul gear; you’re responsible for your daypack (which may include weather-related gear). The altitude presents enough of a challenge for the average trekker, and porters are usually indigenous peoples who are genetically adapted to their harsh environment. There’s a reason Sherpas always accompany climbers on Everest and why the Quechua porters of the Andes are capable of sprinting uphill for miles, barefoot, with 100-pound loads on their backs.

%Gallery-125080%The first time I did a trip with porters, I was bothered by what I saw as a social injustice. But my Peruvian guide from Bio Bio Expeditions explained that there are strict guidelines in place (this may depend upon region, so please check with your outfitter or the local permitting office) about maximum weight loads. By employing the local people, porters receive a steady paycheck, supplemented by monetary tips from trekkers (please don’t overlook this; it’s part of their livelihood, and believe me, they earn it), and donated clothing items that go to their families.

Pack trips
While long days in the saddle can wreak havoc on tenderfoot thighs and butts, pack trips are the ideal way for the physically-compromised or older folks to explore remote wilderness regions, often at high altitude (day hikes are usually included during downtime; be sure to ask). Alternatively, if your back (or you) demand a bit more comfort at night, you can descend on muleback into the depths of the Grand Canyon, and stay in one of the Phantom Ranch’s rustic but comfy cabins; note that these trips book out at least a year in advance.

Bonus: Many outfitters now focus on food, so rest assured you won’t be eating freeze-dried beef Stroganoff. Other outfitters will teach you packing skills, such as how to tie a diamond-hitch and load a pack mule, or focus on fly-fishing, photography, or personalized trips, so look for the company that best suits your needs and interests. Tip: There’s no unified national packers association. Your best bet, says Dave Dohnel of California’s (very excellent) Frontier Pack Train, is to “ask for references–I always tell potential clients to call the regional office of the Forest Service. They’re the stewards of the land, so they’ll give you an unbiased opinion.” Also be sure to do some online research on the companies you’re considering.

Llama/goat packing
Having a furry friend haul your gear as you walk alongside is becoming more popular in the States. Llamas, of course, have been used as pack animals for hundreds of years in the Andes. They’re tough, have excellent footing, and are cute as the dickens, but they’re also tempermental. If you’d prefer to trek with an animal you can really bond with, goats are ideal, as they’re more dog-like and enjoy interacting with people.

There are only a handful of goat packers in the U.S. at this time, but it’s grown in popularity since it was pioneered in the 1980’s by former Forest Service employee John Mionczynski. A large goat can carry up to a quarter of its body weight with a pack frame, and their small hooves and grazing habits make them a lower impact option than horses or mules. The North American Packgoat Association (NAPgA) is for those who want to start packing with their own goats, but it’s still a great resource.

Destinations for both llama and goatpacking include the Rockies, Pacific Northwest, and Southwestern U.S.. There’s also the Pack Llama Festival in Silverton, Colorado, held September 22-25.

Day treks from a base camp
Many outfitters offer combination trips that enable experienced trekkers or climbers and beginners to travel together. Seattle-based Mountain Madness, historically a “hardcore” mountaineering outfitter, now offers a “Trek or Climb Program” that allows partners or families to enjoy the same trip–each participant has the option to climb or trek only, or a combo of the two–and reunite at a new base camp each night. For those with no experience wanting to get a “taste of climbing but not commit to it 100%,” this offers a great compromise. All trips include porters, so you only need to carry your daypack (they’ll even hire a porter to do that, if you’d like). Other companies, like Seattle’s Alpine Ascents, will hire porters to carry your gear on their international trips if you’re unable (they suggest you be able to handle a 50-pound pack).

For my first mountaineering attempt, I did a Mountain Madness trip to Ecuador’s Cotopaxi, the world’s highest active volcano (19,347 feet). Because we had to spend the night at a refugio located just above 15,000 feet in the acclimatization zone, it meant I only required a day pack for the ascent (which was unfortunately thwarted at 17,000 feet due to avalanche danger). But the point is, you can have the best of both worlds, bad back or not. And I still had a great time and felt I’d made a massive achievement.

Specialty trips
Mountain Madness also offers a Mt. Baker “Slow Boat” beginner summit climb in the Cascades (FYI, a lot of outfitters are based in Seattle, an outdoor industry Mecca). This is a four-day trek–usually, it’s done in three–created specifically for those who need a little more time for whatever reason (you still need to be able to carry 35 pounds). Ask outfitters what options they offer if you have limitations; many companies will create personalized itineraries for two or more clients.

Have back problems and a trek or outfitter you want to rave about? Let us know!

[Photo credits: pack train, Flickr user Mouldy17; all other photos, Laurel Miller]