Gear Review: Inov8 Baregrip Running Shoes

Living in Ithaca, NY, a solid 3/4 of my trail runs occur (1) In the rain, (2) In snow, or (3) In the mud (due to #1 and #2). After experimenting with lots of shoes–and slipping around a lot–I decided to try out Inov8’s Baregrip shoes, a wonky specialty piece of gear for minimalist runners looking for maximum traction.

Don’t like the bright green fool you: These things will always be the color of mud if you’re using them right.

First off, the Baregrips are amazingly light-weight for being such a durable shoe–weighing in at 7oz’s, these could almost be used as camp shoes when backpacking (haven’t tried it yet!). These shoes are likely so light in part due to their super-breathable mesh upper. While many folks who are likely to encounter mud/water may want a Goretex liner in a shoe, Inov8 was smart in aiming for fast draining-and-drying over waterproofing, which would only be less breathable and an equally futile line of defense against wetness. From my experience, after full submersion in a creek they drained out in about a minute. While the mesh is excellent in warm temperatures, be careful if you opt for these in the winter–wet feet and cold temperatures may be a recipe for disaster. Speaking of which, wear socks with these guys: while I love running sockless, there is a seam between the heel-cup and the mesh upper that might be bothersome. Honestly though, conditions that warrant wearing Baregrips will also warrant socks and possibly gaiters to manage debris anyway.

Continuing to look at the upper, the metatarsal cage gives this shoe a perfect fit when the laces are snugged up tight, which is an added bonus when you’re tramping through shoe-sucking mud.

Look at that mud!…I really, really hope that’s mud…

Now, it’s the sole that makes this shoe really stand out: the super aggressive lugs dig amazingly into mud, loose dirt, snow, and slush. On dry sections/hard rock, the lugs may cause pressure points on your feet (one user I know actually grinded a particularly bothersome down with a Dremel), but I found it manageable on short stretches. And that’s the key: these shoes should only be worn when your run will be 80% muddy/wet/loose. If you know you’ll be on more than a mile or two of dry stuff, odds are there might be a better shoe for that day’s run.

The fit is the only place I had an issue. I noticed that the shoes are on the narrow side, and that the toe-box is not as typically wide as the average zero-drop shoes. Now, none of this bothered me, as I have slim feet and like a snug shoe. What does drive me absolutely nuts is the tip of the shoe, which another equally frustrated runner described as an “elf shoe point.”  Here’s the thing: the shoes fit me in a 10.5, which is pretty universally my shoe size in almost every brand; my feet don’t shift around at all when I tie them up, but there is definitely a weird taper to the toe that leaves space. Now, this space hasn’t caused any shifting, instability ,or blisters, but has snagged me up: a centimeter is the difference between clearing a root and landing flat on your face. This becomes especially pronounced on steep up hills, and near the ends of run when I’m tired and not particularly eager to lift my feet super high. I’d like to try them out again in a size 10 and see if they fit better, but no matter what be wary of the size. I recommend buying these shoes from a vendor where they can be swapped for a different size: you don’t have to run in them to know, just check the toe when you put them on.

The verdict: if you run in muddy places, and I mean MUDDY, or are into those mud-run obstacle course races, this might be a great shoe for you. Just watch out for the sizing. While I do like these shoes, a few months of running has shown I can likely make due with another pair of shoes in muddy conditions. They might shine in soft snow this winter, but even then the fear of ice will likely necessitate yaktrax.

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Written by Chris, who is always slightly amused at how many shoes he owns in spite of being known as a “barefooter.”

Race Report: Thom B. Trail Race

This past Saturday was the annual Thom B. Trail Race, the opening race of the Finger Lakes Running Club‘s trail series. Fittingly, this race embodied most FLRC trail races I’ve encountered: simple, supportive, and fun. While the Finger Lake’s races aren’t glamorous, they take you through beautiful and technical terrain; there are no cheering crowds or loud music, but the runners themselves are an inspiration to run with. For those who may be jaded with running’s recent turn to gimmicky color runs/mud runs,  the FLRC races offer a return to simple origins.

This year’s Thom B race had an understated excitement, as it was the inaugural addition of the 52k addition to the usual 13k and 26k. While there were only 14 of us running the longer distance, the 120+ racers running the 13/26k were amazingly supportive, as were the various check point workers and the occasional surprise volunteers at the “un-staffed” aid stations.

Conditions were hot–mid 70’s and up–and humid like you could not believe, leaving many racers feeling they couldn’t stay hydrated no matter how hard they tried. For me, it took guzzling 3-4 full water bottles per lap to stay even remotely hydrated. With the 52k distance starting earlier in the day, the trails were 50% mud, letting my Inov8 Bare-Grips do what they do best. By the time the 13/26K started, it was sunny any dry (dry being a subjective term here) enough to switch to my Vivobarefoot Breathos.

The trail is up-and-down consistently, with a few flat runs to give your some hope and to let you get some steam. The running got a little technical (read: crazy) on some sections of the notoriously half-track Finger Lakes Trail, but this is definitely a race doable by any runner–for experienced trail runners, it’s a fun mix between tough and doable, and for newer runners, it’ll be a great race to test your skills.

I bonked hard partway through my third lap, feeling the combined effects of the humidity, mild dehydration, and an IT-Band that decided it didn’t want to run down hills anymore. This race was a particularly lonely one: once the director yelled “Go!” us ultra runners were by ourselves for a solid 2 laps, spreading ourselves all through Hammond.  What killed me was when the 13/26K runners came onto the course: their encouragement was much needed, but I foolishly got caught up in staying with them, forgetting that not only had I just run double their distance, but would continue running after they’re done. The moral of the story: keep your pace. 

My saving grace was a runner named Tania, who was running the shorter 26K distance. After her first lap in (my third), she was having a tough time, so we paired up together, chatting to take our minds off of the discomfort. We told each other funny race stories and funny life stories; we talked about our families, friends, our jobs (she’s an excellent photographer), and our future race plans. It was hard thinking of upcoming races as I limped my way to the end. My race essentially ended on that third lap, but talking with Tania and getting to make a new running friend made it all worth it.

In spite of me going out with a whimper instead of a bang, the race was great, and crossing the finish line race directors Joel Cisne and Shelly Marino were there to wish me and the few remaining limpers smiles and congratulations, their spirits high and raising ours. If you’ve never gotten to run a race directed by them, or run a race with them, you should–they’re both wonderful, talented people who bring a lot of good energy to whatever they do.

So, if you’re ever in Ithaca for the Spring, start out your race season with this race!

A Treatise on Five-Fingers: Issues with this Suit

First off, let me state a few objective facts before I dive into this: (1) I’m what you could call a barefoot/minimalist runner (huaraches, zero-drop shoes, etc), (2) I predominantly run trails, (3) I never liked Five-Finger shoes. I mention the first two points to give you my background, but the latter point is to create a clear contrast, because I believe this suit against folks over at Vibram is pretty foolish.

As a minimalist runner, I strongly believe that minimalist running is not for everyone: it is not a cure-all to all your joint problems for every person, but for some people it is a more appealing alternative. For myself, I found it alleviated leg strain after long days, as well as lessened chronic patella pain after running. However, I read the very smart Ken-Bob’s book, which suggested starting super slow in the beginning. Not just speed-slow, but also starting  with short distances.

For me, I started with a quarter-mile barefoot run, and then added a quarter-mile every half week or so. Completely barefoot, on pavement and gravel. I spent the next year and a half not wearing shoes at all daily (except when legally required, of course). I don’t mention these details for bravado, but to show the commitment put forth to run healthily with less. I knew that I wasn’t going to slip on some magic shoes–or take my shoes off–and be magically healed. While you don’t have to run on gravel or go full no-shoe-hippie, the point is that going barefoot requires an arduously slow transition.

Returning to the Vibram suit, things went wrong not with the footwear, but with the claims made by its manufacturer. While I believe some of the claims they make are potential benefits, they also needed the standard warning all runners should get: YOU’RE GOING TO GET HURT. Running is an inherently painful, damaging sport: unless you just lightly jog for a mile every other day, you’re probably going to get a running related injury.

I could cite a lot of studies and such, but (1) I don’t trust too many studies because their samples are always a little skewed and (2)I’m feeling a little lazy. But, you can do your own research really easily. Next time you’re at a race, mention an injury you have: every runner will respond with “Yeah, me too,” or “I don’t get that, BUT….” In three years of running, I’ve never met a runner who said, “Weird. I’m 100% fine all the time.” If you’re not the talkative type, just google “[Any injury] when running” (pro-tip: stick with forums on legitimate specialty sites, like Runner’s World, Trail Runner, etc, not Yahoo-Answers). This is entirely an anecdotal evidence, but you will notice runners talking about distance, form, speed, and terrain…and not their shoes, or only mentioning them briefly.

If you read that running injuries are on the rise–and that barefoot injuries are more so spiking–consider the fact that a lot more people are running. Any time an activity increases in popularity, the injury rate will also increase. Before running was something very few people did; now a 5k is a normal weekend activity, and “Ultramarathon” is a daily term. How many of the runners cited in these barefoot injuries would have been hurt wearing traditional shoes? Probably all of them, because we all get hurt.

This does not make the claims Vibram made accurate, nor deny that there’s any correlation between footwear and running: I believe some people were likely hurt because (1) They weren’t suited well for barefoot running or (2) They were not properly adjusted to it. It can be a factor in injury, but I don’t believe it’s the strongest correlation.

I’m not writing this to defend Vibram specifically in any way, but to defend minimalist shoes as a whole. The only reason to go minimal is if you want to connect more, if  feeling the trail will lead to a more satisfactory running experience; the reason to go minimal is if you feel uncomfortable or awkward moving in thick, padded shoes. If you don’t have any of these issues, don’t worry about it; if you tried it and it didn’t work, it’s just not for you.

I think the issue at heart is that people often want a silver-bullet to solve their problem. In running–and in any outdoor industry–there’s no such thing. Running as I know it is about slowly changing your body to become more resilient; it is about experimenting, failing, succeeding, puking, icing, elevating, pulling your muscles and pushing yourself; it is hurting and healing. I encourage each reader and every runner to investigate and experiment with the source of their pain, and look more towards themselves first rather than their equipment when they find themselves hurt.

Agree? Disagree? Any thoughts? I’m open to hearing what folks think about it.

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Chris is a distance runner…a slow, middle-of-the-pack distance runner, but a distance runner…

Gear Review: Olicamp Kinetic Ultra Titanium Stove

While the Jet Boil (check out Ryan’s review here) and the MSR Pocket Rocket have been the tried-and-true reigning stove champs, I always look for underdogs: maybe it’s the hipster in me, but I love those excellent pieces of kit that fly under the radar.

Enter Olicamp’s Kinetic Ultra Titanium Stove, a $40-50 investment that strikes the perfect balance between ultra-light, super simple, and affordable.

 

Construction

The Kinetic works just like the canister stoves you know and love: screw it in to an isobutane canister, crank up the gas, flick your lighter, and blast Kenny Loggins’ “Danger Zone” as you go into full over-drive.

However, what makes it stand out from other stoves is it’s weight; being constructed from titanium (with an aluminum burn-adjuster), the Kinetic weighs a paltry 1.7 oz’s, making it nearly half the weight of the 3 oz Pocket Rocket. The only thing lighter is the Kinetic’s little brother, the award winning Ion Micro, which shaves .2 oz’s at the cost of some stability.

Field Testing

The Kinetic’s small size let’s it pack away easily, whether in your cook kit or riding up in your pack’s brain, stowing it away is never an issue. It comes with a plastic carrying case, but I ditched it, instead wrapping mine in a handkerchief; when packed away inside a cook kit all snugly with utensils and sponges and spices, I never have to worry about it getting damaged.

Beyond that, the Kinetic performs just like your average canister stove, bringing .5-.8 liters of water to a rolling boil at around 3:30 minutes (give or take depending on conditions). If you’re like me and use a filter to purify water, making a full-boil unnecessary, you’ll be able to save some fuel and time by getting hot enough water for tea and instant meals in about 2:30-3:00 minutes. If you’re a real back-country chef who needs variable burn, you can adjust the flame easily with a turn of the burner-adjustor.

The only real downside to the Kinetic is that you have to be careful with your pot: the small arms on the stove don’t make it the most stable platform, so tipping is easy, especially with larger pots. That said, I’ve never actually tipped a pot on the Kinetic, but I definitely am careful with how it sits. If you’ll be doing multi-pitch or multi-day climbing, where your stove will be perched on narrow spaces, stick with a Jetboil.

Since the Kinetic uses canisters, it won’t be your go-to for cold weather camping. Since the fuels separate at colder temperatures, you’ll find the Kinetic getting sluggish in the mid 30’s and down; at 20*, it’s like it’s on simmer-mode even when cranked to full burn. There are tricks to get canisters to work at lower temperatures–some of which can turn your stove into a bomb–but I recommend just switching over to a white-gas stove when you start seeing frost.

Conclusions

Lightweight gear always comes at price, and the Kinetic is no different, but the trade-offs are a lot less dramatic with the Kinetic: it’s a little slower than the Jetboil, and it doesn’t have the most stable platform, but the weight savings make it an awesome option for ultralight backpackers and adventure runners still looking for convenience and efficiency.

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By Chris, who eats Ramen more off-trail than he does on.

Gear Review: Marmot Ether Driclime

Marmot Ether Driclime (reviewed by Chris) 

Field testing (er, mountain testing) the Ether DriClime on top of Marcy. (that’s the OR Halogen you see peaking out underneath. More on that later…)

Working in a gear shop, I see a lot of specialized gear: things designed for one activity, one season, one purpose. While  specialized gear is cool, my favorite pieces are the ones I bring with me on every trip, no matter the season or sport. After a year of ownership, I can say Marmot’s Ether Driclime is a piece that I’ve never left behind.

Material and Construction: The Ether is a hooded windshirt with a thin wicking liner. The shell is constructed from thin DWR treated nylon ripstop, and the lining uses Marmot’s proprietary “Driclime bi-component wicking” material (a thin, comfy, polyester layer), the idea being that the shell will cut wind and light precipitation while the liner prevents that clammy, clingy wind-shirt feel. All this comes in a super-light 8.8 oz that packs into it’s Napoleon pocket, and has a loop to clip the jacket to a harness/vest. There are also hand pockets, which run all the way up the chest so you can fit maps and other odd-shaped items inside easily.

This piece comes in an athletic fit, but does not feel tight, allowing layers to be worn underneath if you choose. To make layering even easier, Marmot stops the Driclime wicking material right by the wrist, letting under layers slide through the sleeve easier without getting bunched (brilliant!).

Being 6’1″, 155 lbs with longer arms, a size medium fits me perfectly; I noticed no restriction in movement nor found it to fit too loose or tight, but I’m awful skinny.

The standard Nalgene comparison (it does squish even smaller)

The Good: First off, a lot of people pick this piece up and say “This feels like it’ll get torn to shreds,” which is an understandable gut-instinct: ultralight and packable tend to equate to delicate. Tend is the important word there: I babied mine at first, but after enough back-woods cross-country skiing in thorny Shindagin hollow and hiking through  low-hanging branches in the Adirondack high peaks, I’m surprised to say there are no holes in my jacket in spite of a lot of scrapes, falls, brushes, and collisions. Now, I wouldn’t go running through brambles and barbed wire with this (it is a windshirt), but I’ve been impressed with the durability of this piece. 

The light weight and packability make this the kind of piece you can always bring–whether stuffed in my pack or clipped to my trail-running vest, you really won’t notice this piece until you need it. However, it’s the multi-use functionality of this piece that gives you a reason to bring it. It obviously works great at blocking wind, and can stop light rains and drizzles (for downpours switch to your hardshell); on snowy treks it definitely will shed everything except the wettest, heaviest snow. And, it dries super fast if it does wet out.

The biggest appeal to me is it’s breathability: the Ether breathes as well as it repels, preventing you from overheating on steep hikes and climbs, essentially creating a comfy, dry climate (get it, driclime?) at all times. The mesh under the pits definitely helps with this. I tend to run super hot, so on hikes at 20* I sport this bad boy with just a baselayer underneath.

Now, the Ether has a hidden superpower: it’s liner is so comfortable, it can be worn as a midlayer or with no shirt underneath. This seems like an odd benefit, but after getting soaked out from sweating in a hardhshell while climbing Mt. Colden in slushy-wet snow, switching out my soaked baselayer for just wearing the Ether staved off a bad case of the shivers in a pinch. The liner is so comfy I often wear it as an extra layer in my sleeping bag, and there’s no better feeling during the post-run cool down then nuzzling up to that Driclime material. I often wear it on cooler summer nights lounging around camp or reading in the hammock.

The Bad: The zippers on the handpockets are a little dainty; their slightly-recessed placements has, after a year of heavy use, caused some slight fraying in the fabric due to the pull. Not really sure why Marmot chose to go with these zippers, as the Napoleon pocket and main zipper are a little beefier and work fine. I’d rather see them add a little weight for better hand zips or just remove them entirely to save weight. Maybe it’s so they don’t cause pressure points under a hip belt, if I had to guess.

Some of the fraying by the zippers

Conclusion: If you’re looking for a windshirt you can use all year around and for so much more, this is the piece.

Looking for something lighter? Check out Marmot’s Trailwind Jacket/Hoody (same jacket, no liner). Looking for something tougher, stick with Marmot’s M3 softshell jackets, like the Tempo, or OR’s Ferrosi line.