If even the cows have special attire for coming down from the mountains, then one has to assume that there is a dress code that separates serious climbers in the know from mere weekend wanderers. One would not want to be seen as part of the dilettante crowd. Of course, there are levels of seriousness which also must be matched with cultural preferences. The Austrian farmers coming down the mountains with their cows came down clearly on the lederhosen and checkered shirt side but it is fair to say that on a normal day, neither they nor their fellow countryman wear such garments. Even the sports shop in Bezau appealing to the more traditional customer has only a small part of its inventory filled with lederhosen – though a not insignificant part is comprised of loden and tweed jackets with leather trim for both men and women so perhaps as the weather begins to change, lederhosen with tweed may be de rigueur. I was tempted by a lovely camel coloured pair of tooled leather kneehosen ,but the tramp rolled his eyes when I pointed them out. He didn’t respond more favourably to the short lederhosen in the same colour. I admit they would have fit in perfectly to the Springtime for Hitler scene in the Producers so probably don’t meet the criterion of understated (we won’t even mention age appropriate!). Still the kneehosen were quite lovely – though they probably would have added as much weight as the large backpack – a plus if one considers that extra weight undoubtedly over time would add a few points to the VO2 max and take off a few pounds from the trampess- effortlessly.
So leather and tweed rejected we moved on. The shop just around the corner, which is part of a small chain, and which is run by a young, exuberant sportsman who has a new-fashioned sense of service coursing through his veins, has not a pair of lederhosen or loden coat in sight. He does carry every Austrian, German, Swedish, Swiss and English brand of high tech outdoor garment available. He seems to have tested them all, knows entire catalogues by heart and is willing to order anything that he has not decided to stock. He also has a magnificent selection of backpacks, Nordic walking sticks, gloves, carabiners and everything else one could possibly want for a hike up the local mountain. The tramp is well familiar with the shop and is greeted like a long lost friend whenever he enters (long lost friends in Germany and Austria being greeted by name, surname of course – it takes a very long time before one becomes a first name friend!) It is clear that when he was left on his own, the tramp spent a lot of time (we won’t even mention money) improving, if not the technique of his climbing, at least the technical quality of his wardrobe.
To be fair, this is in part because the trampess herself made some small comment about the importance of sweat wicking garments. The tramp, of course, knows what sweat is, and knows that he sweats, quite a lot in the mountains if the truth be told, (which is why climbing mountains is such an effective aerobic activity) but until the trampess explained, had no idea about wicking sweat, let alone why it was an important aspect of hiking apparel. Confession: the trampess did not know this either until she was setting off for Nepal with tramp4 some years ago and mentioned to a very sporty friend that she would, of course, be packing all cotton garments (the trampess having never been a fan of polyester or anything similar). Said friend gasped in horror and said that trekking in Nepal was definitely not to be done in cotton, was she out of her mind, and did she not know the importance of sweat wicking fabrics? Obviously she did not. Ignorance was replaced with knowledge by a quick trip to Covent Garden and the numerous outdoor sport shops there with the result that the trampess and tramp4 sat in comfort over lunches in Nepal after 4 or 5 hours of heavy trekking in dry shirts while their fellow, less informed travellers, were getting a chill in their sweaty, cotton t-shirts. Happily, though not expecting to return to Nepal anytime soon, the trampess kept her wardrobe and hiking boots (4 season Christopher Brasher leather boots, still wearing well) and so had a base wardrobe for the current adventure. The tramp not having gone to Nepal and not having seen the wardrobe, what with its unsuitability for nights at the opera in London, packed a comfortable but low tech wardrobe for his hiking. As he was suffering from both very wet shirts on hot days, and rather soggy jeans on wet days, he took the trampess’s comments seriously and decided to kit himself out more appropriately. Easier said than done given the tramp’s extreme (he would say elegant) height. Happily, no doubt due to more milk and meat being available than at the time the tramp was born during the war, current generations of Germans and Swedes have a sufficient number of tramp height, outdoor sportsmen to make it not impossible to find trousers long enough off the peg (though certain brands are more likely to produce results than others). Occasionally, the trampess was asked to make small alterations to insure the success of such garments (large hooks sewn on the inside of trouser legs to attach to shoe laces to keep the trousers in place – the tramp is nothing if not inventive in his solutions – some might say he is inventive in creating problems that require creative solutions. I have yet to take him to Monticello but it will without doubt be his favourite house ever, Thomas Jefferson’s inventions being as personal and idiosyncratic as the tramp’s).
Idiosyncratic he may be, but let it not be said that the tramp doesn’t fully embrace the new when he sees the light: once he tried the odd sweat wicking t-shirt and climbing trousers, he set out to build a hiking capsule wardrobe with a vengeance. Indeed, soon his gym clothes were new as well (why wouldn’t one want high tech t-shirts in the sweatiest of all environments?). Of course, he did notice the one downside of these marvellous fabrics: smell. There is no getting around it they do get smellier faster. This is all right as long as either we don’t encounter anyone else or get to a washing machine frequently enough, but with the limited water supply in the WLW it could prove a touch tricky in Mongolia!
It was with this future limitation in mind, and with the arrival of slightly cooler weather, that the trampess spotted a small section at our favourite shop that she had only glanced at before since it was next to men’s underwear (not my natural browsing zone): merino wool t-shirts (long sleeved and short) in basic black (a bit harsh for an aging blonde and not exactly a nature friendly colour) but also in some livelier colours. The blurb accompanying the t-shirts emphasised the technical wonders of merino wool: soft, light, sweat absorbing, non-smelly (nota bene), easy to care for (hurrah!) and so suitable for turning weather. Who would have thought – all this from a natural fabric. Before you know it cashmere will be the latest solution for fall climbing! Allowing for all the marketing hype, I did nonetheless find myself tempted by a little coral number with a darker red edging, short sleeved, summer weight and on sale. Clearly an indication, that in the interest of knowledge and enlightenment, I should be open minded about old fashioned fabrics repackaged as high tech solutions. One must always be open to experimentation.
To say that it was fetching and functional is to understate the sheer delight this small investment afforded your trampess on one of those days where it was cool in the forest and hot in the open fields – or the warmth it added under a fleece on a particularly grim day. So perhaps cotton is passé but wool is in. In fact in order to ensure a comfortable fall in the Dolomites, your trampess ordered (our new best friend in Bezau was more than happy to order ahead of his normal stocking plan and went through the new catalogue to make sure that there was nothing else I wanted and to be certain I was happy with the weight and colour I had chosen) the slightly heavier weight, long sleeved version. The tramp, convinced that the trampess knew her onions when it came to technical clothing, and being at her side when she was indulging her desire for the long sleeved version, ordered himself a long sleeved version in black (well black does suit white hair much better than blonde – and in his all black gear he resembles Wotan, especially with his big hat and Nordic sticks, more than Johnny Cash, which may or may not be a good thing depending on your philosophical outlook). We were promised that we would have them in 3 days. It should be added that in the meantime, our NBF also accepted the tramp’s Polar trekking heart monitor overnight to set it and explain to the tramp the next day how to use it (it is well known that most manuals are useless except to people who already know how to use the instrument in question). Now that is real service especially when you know that he didn’t even sell him the monitor! We will never buy anything anywhere else – well not for mountain climbing anyway.
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