Explorer-Chic? We’re Buying In!

Yikes! Not being ‘with it’ in any sense, I just stumbled on to this curious collaboration. Actually, a breakthrough in co-branding with two unlikely partners, or so I thought. At first, I thought it was a joke, a complete send-up, but no, it’s for real. Seriously.

My first encounter with outdoor-chic was witnessing lugged soled hiking boots making their way from concrete sidewalks into the University Bookstore and nearby LP record shops. Known then as ‘waffle stompers,’ they seemed a good accessory for patched blue jeans. They certainly didn’t see any mountain trails as our campus in central Illinois was flat as a pancake. And so, those stiff leather boots were more of a lifestyle statement than anything else.

Some years hence, post-university, we used to joke about ‘Patagucci,’ I mean Patagonia, having achieved cult status with the urban crowd. It seemed every third guy at the local grocery store wore some color of their nylon-shelled, ‘bomber styled,’ zippered fleece jacket. And later, The North Face oversized puffy jackets appeared, suddenly popular, on the streets of New York, with would-be rappers. Down mountain gear proliferated amongst the concrete walls of the city. I found it a most curious phenomenon and wondered why.

The recent The North Face x Gucci collection takes that concept several levels beyond, as Italian runway designers have adapted outdoor silhouettes to showcase their virtuosity with color, texture, and pattern. I kind of admire the cheeky panache of the assortment, a fashion design student fantasy project gone wild, and yet, made real, completely jaw-dropping both in its inventive visual creativity and prices. It seems to me that functionality takes a far backseat to the celebration of the brand, as the creative objective is not to provide performance in the mountains but to create, in the target customer, a palpable sense of desire to acquire and make a statement about one’s self.

As a former architect, and later a designer and developer of outdoor gear and apparel, I was always interested in the relationship between form and function. For me, the function was the beginning and always drove form. The evolution of form, with a pleasing aesthetic, driven primarily as a result of achieving the requisite function for the task ahead was the design imperative. Of course, this collection has little to do with the mountains except in an abstract conceptual sense and is thus free to focus on the exploration of pattern, color, and commerce. And what fun it must be to indulge in ‘celebrating the spirit of exploration’ (as the North Face website pronounces) with exuberant, whimsical designs. The beauty of it is that what comes next is only bounded by limitations of the creative imagination as little function needs to be served.

British Vogue editors penned a feature in January of 2021 and unequivocally stated their approval: “The North Face x Gucci has landed and everyone wants a slice of the technical outerwear energised by bold blooms, eye-watering colourways, and cult branding. The Vogue editors bagged a preview of the peppy puffers before they hit the rails of Selfridges, where the collection is available to purchase via virtual appointments from now until 31 January. The verdict? The cheering coats are a breath of fresh air. We’re buying in.” They further declared the collection “a breezy take on explorer-chic.”

Oversized cotton logo t-shirts range from $540 to $650, and the latest TNFG forest print tee is offered at $850. Their vintage ‘70s style mountain boots go for $1,490 and a new floral print down jacket for $3,600. Other items have commanded even higher prices. Curiously, they offer The North Face x Gucci floral print silk dress, with ruffles at the neck and cuffs. Yours for $4,500, sold in-store only. And while that may seem just right for the urban fashionista, the collection misses serving the needs of the true alpine enthusiast. And it doesn’t care. So, it’s highly unlikely we’re going to run into any of this apparel high in the North Cascades, Sierra, or Tetons. But, perhaps in the mountains of Manhattan and the Hollywood hills. Yes, definitely!

While I imagine that some at The North Face are probably suitably embarrassed by this whole co-branding adventure, there will be others elsewhere that will be envious of the collaboration, and subsequent brand notoriety, and wonder, “Why not us?” So, what’s next? Carhartt x Burberry, or perhaps the ne plus ultra of up-and-coming outdoor co-branding ventures will be Arcteryx x Armani. Yes, it’s probably already in the works. But they better hurry. It’s now a catch-up ball game.

 

Hail Falling on Granite

Darkening skies portended the fury to come. The beautiful white cumulus clouds that had graced our mid-day hike through Humphrey’s Basin had changed their character. No longer friendly drifting cotton balls scattered across brilliant cerulean blue skies, they had grown surly, now darker, towering, and more sinister. We quickly made camp, pitching our Omnipotent with a facing view toward the jagged western face of Mount Humphreys. As the sun bathed the summit with fading orange light, the sky turned a dark gray. We watched and waited.

Earlier, we had hiked into the basin via Piute Pass. The sun shone bright overhead, and the trail was a dusty, rocky affair that climbed steadily up, the heat of the day requiring frequent stops to pull out our water bottles and slake our thirst. The narrow path was well defined and straightforward, crossing through areas of subalpine meadows that hosted wildflowers, native grasses, and gnarly dwarf trees. The six-mile hike from the North Lake trailhead ascended 2,200 feet to Piute Pass. And once there, the view expansively blossomed to encompass a giant plain strewn with barren rocks and sparse grasses.

We hiked on. Even though we were now at 11,000 feet, the summer day was searing hot and dry. Needing to hydrate once more, we stopped to remove our packs and access our water bottles. My companion, Peter Hickner, paused, standing on the massive granite slabs to gaze across the giant boulder-strewn amphitheater over the still waters of the isolated Summit Lake, and then beyond, towards the high Sierra peaks that framed the distant skyline. He wore only a sun hat, t-shirt, shorts, socks, and leather mountain boots.

Mount Humphreys, at 13,998 feet, stood high above the other peaks, dominant with its iconic trapezoidal summit. As the 13th highest peak in California, it is the highest of those accessed from the eastern gateway town of Bishop. No other peak to the north rises higher. There is no easy route to the summit, but we had not come to climb and had not brought the gear to tackle any technical ascent. Instead, we brought pack rods, fry pan, and savory seasonings as we planned to fish from lake to lake as we meandered through the granite kingdom, happy just to be there.

And once ensconced in our tent, the view towards Mount Humphreys held us, hostage, to the unfolding drama. Soon, flashes of lightning, and sharp cracks of thunder surrounded us. And then, gently at first, the icy hail quickened to a loud and frenzied rush, the white pellets sweeping across the high Sierra landscape, pummeling our tent, and dancing across the dry basin soil. The wild beauty of the light show, the streaming hail, and the majestic Mount Humphreys seemed operatic, Wagnerian, in those moments. And though, in some ways, we did not want it to end, we knew that it would and that we’d be relieved when it was over.

And soon it was. Once done, the storm having exhausted its fury, the sky resumed its changing light as the sun drifted over the western peaks sending dramatic flares of light before the approaching dark of night. As the temperature had plummeted, we emerged from our tent, more fully clothed, to survey the scene. We both admired what the storm had left behind, the moist landscape of granite boulders, scrubby trees, and scattered white hail pellets. As quickly as the storm had manifested itself, it released its fury and quickly moved on. It was so different from the incessant and lingering cold wetness we were so accustomed to with mountain storms in the Pacific Northwest. And for that difference alone, we were glad that we had come.

I had fallen in love with the Kings Canyon area of the Sierra many years before, when a girlfriend and I first explored the Mount Goddard quad. At first, we followed the dusty trails, and then later broke away. We’d travel off-trail following the contours of our topo maps, hiking up the drainages of streambeds and cascading waterfalls to fish remote and seldom visited lakes with scattered boulder shoulders. If you wanted to simply wander and discover, this was a good place. More than good. Sensational.

As Peter and I traveled the basin we were surprised to discover some shallow tarns alive with vigorously wriggling dark shapes, tadpoles. Surprisingly large, we wondered why they were there. Only later would I learn that the mountain yellow-legged frog (Rana muscosa) was once a common inhabitant of the California Sierra Nevada. They later declined precipitously during the past century due in part to the introduction of nonnative fish, brook trout, into naturally fishless habitats. However, on that day, during our traverse of the basin, both tadpoles and brook trout co-existed.

As I look back, I acknowledge that those early days of our exploration of the Sierra revealed to me, much more emphatically than I could ever have imagined, the ethereal magic of nature. My experience was profound and the beginning of my deep spiritual communion with the wild places of the mountains. And for that, I would be forever grateful.

More stories of my early explorations of the Sierra, Cascades, Tetons, and Wind River Range are included in my recently released memoir, Banquet of the Infinite, which is now available as an eBook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.