Moving into hardshell weather—Wind Rivers. This trip, the Patagonia Super Pluma came along. The next iteration of the Winds traverse, which went further and farther, but not heavier, the Patagonia M10 Storm, a more minimalist hardshell, served as my windbreaker/hardshell. Photo: Brian Parker.

Moving into hardshell weather—Wind Rivers. This trip, the Patagonia Super Pluma came along. The next iteration of the Winds traverse, which went further and farther, but not heavier, the Patagonia M10 Storm, a more minimalist hardshell, served as my windbreaker/hardshell. Photo: Brian Parker.

 

Hardshell options are many—so, too, are the feature sets. Maybe it’s time to embrace our inner alpinists and embrace the minimalist hardshell.

 

Gather round the fire. Get comfortable. There was a time not so long ago (ask your parents, 20-somethings) when Gore-Tex meant weatherproof. It also meant bulky. It meant a sartorial gateway to looking like you might attempt Everest or buy bulk Tamari almonds at a dank food co-op. It meant approximately $79.95 for a new three-layer membrane first-gen Early Winters Gore-Tex jacket, which I purchased 2nd-hand from a friend in seventh grade. If I’m to believe the Google Translate of a Japanese Early Winters cult site I unearthed, this rain-slicker-yellow beast of a jacket was called “the Lost World Parka.” Which, if you think about it, is a good place to start. The lost world.

Suppose you talk to ice and mixed climbers who spend ample time groveling under chilling faucets of water ice melt. You’ll hear complaints of a general lack of weatherproofness regarding newer three-layer membrane jackets. We’ll call them hard shells. In no uncertain terms, it is a lost world for some, considering how dry (or un-dry—we’ll get to that too) modern three-layer fabric keeps us in the mountains.

My Early Winters jacket featured full pit zips, a hanging liner, airplane hangar sized pockets large enough to land an oven-mitted hand, and no sealed seams. Part of the charm, I suppose, was thinking the need for seam sealer was a badge of honor rather than a design flaw.

I’m here to tell you it’s not a bad thing the Lost World Parka and that world, in general, are lost.

The Gore-Tex used in that jacket—which for years was part of the better living through chemistry ethos of long chain perfluorocarbons known as PFAS, PFOAS, or PFCs—contained forever chemicals. Old school Gore-Tex used an ePTFE (expanded polytetrafluoroethylene) membrane and a DWR coating to leverage these forever chemicals for better outdoor performance. Water and dirt repellency meant high-performing jackets that kept the ice climbers and backcountry skiers dry (or drier) in sideways weather. These acronyms above, starting with P, represent some bad stuff.

The lost world has evolved into a brave new world. Governments around the globe are trying to phase out harsher fluorinated compounds. We won’t greenwash, but most companies have reduced the toxic chemical footprint of their three-layer hardshells. We’ll also assert that the current iterations of three-layer membrane fabrics, which include TNF’s Futurelight, Gore’s three-layer ePE, and Patagonia’s H2No, do well in harsh wet weather but not on par with lost world jackets of my youth. The multiple layers and their DWR finish on the face fabric have shorter fluorocarbon chains and as such, repel water and dirt less effectively. We’re ok with that. But, it’s worth considering that a new hardshell in 2024 may not outperform a well-kept model from 2014 with its EPTFE membrane and C8 DWR. 

Before we review any jackets for backcountry skiing/ski alpinism, we’ll assert that most name brand three layer membrane jackets that are well cared for (cleaned and refreshed with a suitable DWR) provide sufficient weatherproofing. We’re here to celebrate, not denigrate, the industry-wide transition to less toxic clothing.

In advising our readers about jackets, specifically ones engineered to handle some foul weather, we’re embracing the alpinist ethos of keeping it simple. Which often means keeping it light. Pack and wear a jacket designed for the conditions you are likely to encounter, which 95 percent of the time doesn’t mean sideways snow or rain or gale-force winds. We’ll wager you’ll tour in those conditions less than 5% of the time. 

How much jacket do you need? It is best not to haul an over-designed garment. 

Gore-Tex Pro hardshell: Patagonia Super Pluma. Not exactly minimalist, but trending towards it. The jacket has pits zips, a single chest pocket, and hand pockets positioned above a waist belt or harness.

Gore-Tex Pro hardshell: Patagonia Super Pluma. Not exactly minimalist, but trending towards it. The jacket has pits zips, a single chest pocket, and hand pockets positioned above a waist belt or harness.

There's no gram-counting in this story. But this Norrøna Lyngen Gore-Tex Jacket (Active Gore-Tex—less weatherproof, more breathable), moves towards a lighter overall package. Excellent Napoleon pockets—ample room for doo-dads, liner gloves, skins. No hand pockets, but way too long pit zips.

There’s no gram-counting in this story. But this Norrøna Lyngen Gore-Tex Jacket (Active Gore-Tex—less weatherproof, more breathable), moves towards a lighter overall package. Excellent Napoleon pockets—ample room for doo-dads, liner gloves, skins. No hand pockets, but way too long pit zips.

Finding a sweet spot in a hardshell. We'll review this next week: Patagonia's new M10 Storm jacket. Two Napoleon pockets, no handpockets or pitzips. This jacket features Patagonia's H2NO 3L fabric.

Finding a sweet spot in a hardshell. We’ll review this next week: Patagonia’s new M10 Storm jacket. Two Napoleon pockets, no handpockets or pitzips. This jacket features Patagonia’s H2NO 3L fabric.

Pit zips

You don’t need pit zips. However, if you are a heavy sweater, tend to overdress, or for some reason are using your touring jacket for a thru-hike of the PCT and then some, pit zips can come in handy. Unzipped, pit zips can often effectively dump heat. But, so, too, can unzipping the front zip. Further, When you open pit zips, you eliminate the vapor/heat differential that makes a WPB work, so the jacket fabric stops breathing.

Do you need pit zips? They are designed for 5% of the time you’re in the hills. Save the grams and the $ (jackets with pit zips are often more expensive).

Powder Skirt

Hard no. You don’t need a powder skirt. Essential in deep snow, they are not. However, we’re fans of powder. Skirts are cool, too. Rather than a powder skirt, go for a longer cut to keep the pow out. THR’s gear editor states, “I won’t buy another hip-length hard shell for skiing. I live in a zone where I experience the deepest of powder vicariously, so a hip-length hardshell can work fine with ski pants (with suspenders) in our typical powder snow conditions. 

Chest Pocket (s)

Now we’re trending into the necessary versus “think we need/desire realm.” There’s a debate to be had. A standard size single chest pocket is fine for a phone, lip balm, maybe a bar. How about a standard size pocket on one side and a larger (meaning longer and wider) chest pocket on the opposite side? Now, we’re trending towards designing for the 95% rather than the 5%. Some argue that chest pockets should be able to house modest-sized skins for quicker transitions. The thinking goes that after skins are ripped, they are stashed in each respective pocket—there’s no need to take one’s pack off. 

We may get some pushback here, but we see an argument for minimalism and, considering skin stashing, less function.

If the chest pockets don’t accommodate powder-ski-sized skins, that shouldn’t be a deal breaker. One can rip skins, unzip the jacket’s front zip a bit, and store skins against your chest. The skins are secured in place by the front zip and your pack’s waist belt. To keep your inner layers dry, take a moment to remove any excess snow. If your skins are wet, it makes sense to secure them in a wet pocket. Hard and fast rule: Don’t drop your skins. 

All this questions the need for interior drop pockets, too, for most backcountry scenarios. Some burlier hardshell jackets have interior drop pockets sized for large skins. These are fine pockets to store skins, stash larger gloves/mittens, or keep a water bottle warm, but they are unnecessary for most situations. If you prefer interior drop pockets, by all means, opt for that feature. The same moisture-to-a-minimum rule applies with the drop pockets: Remove excess snow from skins, fold skins, and insert them into the pocket. 

Truth be told, in regions and zones where runs drop 1500‘ and beyond, it makes sense to store skins inside the pack. In zones with less skiable vert, meaning you’ll be yo-yoing a bunch, quick access to skins without removing the pack is more efficient. Think about how you’ll store skins for quick descents and quick transitions. 95% of the time on 100% of my ski days, I unzip the jacket, shove skins in, zip up, and proceed. No pockets are necessary. 

Cuffs

Simple; we prefer adjustable cuffs to fit either over or under your hand gear of choice. Velcro closures on the cuffs—we like ’em.  A simple elastic cuff works great, too.

Hood

A solid hood is a helmet compatible hood that is easy to adjust. The hood shouldn’t restrict vision, yet it should provide some protection from high moisture weather. 

Weather Proof Zippers

A feature first mainstreamed by Arc’teryx that we’re keen on. As the naming convention suggests, the zippers are weatherproof (read more water and wind resistant). 

 

The Hardshell—Finding What Works

There’s much to consider here. Spending your money on a pricey jacket is a commitment. But it need not be a leap of faith. Many companies design and manufacture excellent jackets for suboptimal weather days. Further, there are options. Some tourers prefer full-featured hard shells; others trend towards minimalism. In other words, there are many ways to skin a cat, but only a few ways to keep your backcountry wardrobe and pursuit simple, like a timeworn alpinist. The game is about no excess.

For those horrendous storm days when you must go out, find a three layer (3L) jacket. Here’s a brief breakdown of what the 3L entails.

Sandwiched in the middle is a membrane that in some conditions allows water vapor through (to the exterior) and prevents rain or snow (any form of water falling from the sky) from passing to the interior. The outermost layer, called the face fabric, adds durability, additional weatherproofing when treated with a DWR, and protects the inner membrane. The innermost layer, the lining or backer, helps wick moisture and protects the membrane from dirt and oils that degrade the garment’s long-term performance.

Working in concert, you should stay nominally dry in a raging blizzard. (Notice we didn’t write completely dry. Water happens. Shit happens. These jackets are relatively lightweight, not Grundens foul weather gear used for hooking and processing sockeye on the Gulf of Alaska.)

Along with a 3L jacket, owning a basic nylon shell is beneficial. Depending on location, you’re likely to bring this lightweight jacket with you 75% of the time and leave the 3L jacket at home. In dry but windy conditions, a simple windbreaker with a hood and a chest pocket excels at shutting down wind. A Patagonia Houdini, Black Diamond Distance Wind Shell, an OR Helium Wind Hoodie, or a Rab Vital all block wind while weighing next to nothing. These jackets help keep the layering systems simple.

We’ve noted some key features up top. We kept an eye on simple and functional, no excess. Hopefully, this helps guide your jacket purchasing decisions. Know that each jacket style will fit a bit differently. Find a few jackets meeting your minimalistic feature set requirements, then find a jacket that fits. Depending on your style preferences, that may mean less bulky, but with ample room to move your arms around unrestricted and layer over a base layer and hoody.

This is also just a single opinion. Go heavier and baggier and full featured if that’s what you are keen on. 

Next week, we’ll have a long-term review of Patagonia’s new M10 Storm jacket.