“All art is only done by the individual. The individual is all you ever have and all schools only serve to classify their members as failures.” ~Ernest Hemingway
“Prose…should read easily and simply and seem short and yet have all the dimensions of the visible world and the world of a man’s spirit.” ~Ernest Hemingway
In the winter of 2018-2019 I spent 12 days in Iceland. It was wet and cold and the wind was relentless. It was miserable and great. In this, it was like all adventures, which are never wholly good nor wholly bad, but rather the bad makes the good truer and more real and in the end isn’t all that bad. A man must face such challenges with the right stuff is his head, and in his pack, but not too damned much of it, or he is too insulated from the experience.
I took too much stuff, because I was inexperienced, and like all inexperienced men, I was doomed to be either reckless or a coward. I hadn’t wanted to be either, of course, and had laid all my gear out on the floor, in piles, and tried my damndest to get it all into the 36 liter backpack and “personal bag.” It was no use, in the end. Fear beat me. Kept me from giving up things I should have given up on, things that in the end I didn't use. When I returned home I did the only thing I could. I emptied all my gear back onto the floor, pulled out the crap, and put all the useful stuff back in. It fit, of course, because I had failed and learned and in failing and learning I had earned the right to stare the wind and rain in the face and no longer be afraid, but to be ready, which I was.
And although I wish that you will not make the same mistakes I have made, I know that some mistakes a man just has to make and learn from on his own, even if others tell him not to make them. But just as you have to try and fail and learn, I have to write to convince you not to, even if you must, because I must be me and you must be you and we can not be otherwise or we would not be men. So, since I have got to do it, at least let me get it over with:
What I took that I didn’t need (The crap):
Soft Shell Jacket: A softshell is a swell item when it is warm, and light rain common, but Iceland is always near freezing and the rain comes on like a charging bull. Take a hard shell and be done with it.
MICROspikes: If you take MICROspikes, you’re half-assing it. You will want light duty cable pull-ons in the city, but real, honest crampons for the glaciers. If you are unfortunate enough to be in Reykjavik during a freeze, the local shops will rent you a nice cable unit and the Iceland guides, being professionals, will have spikes or crampons for glacier work. Never half-ass a thing, especially gear.
Snacks: Airplane food is crap, and it should be a crime to charge you to eat it, so bring something for the flight, but Reykjavik has good shops and markets, not grand like Paris, but good, maybe better than good, at least good enough that you don’t need to pack your own food.
Speedlight: I used mine once, in a cave, got a few decent shots, but nothing good. I also took 2 radio triggers and a sync cord, because I figured it was going to be dark 20 hours a day and I might be using a lot of flash. I was right about the darkness, but wrong about wanting flash. Flash photos almost always look fake. There are few worse things a man can be other than a fake. It’s better to be a coward than a fake, as long as you’re an honest coward. Use your tripod and a longer exposure and your photos will be more real and more true and you’ll be happier and better for it.
Pants: A man just doesn’t need more than 3 pairs of pants, ever. A pair of nice looking softshells on the plane and another pair for when the first pair is dirty and being washed. And your snow pants, you will live in those most days. But that’s it, no more. Do laundry half way through your trip, or have someone do it for you, since you should be out shooting, or drinking with fools.
Electrical Kit: What a damned mess. I should have thrown the corded power strip, battery pack, and extra cables out the bus window on day 2. Just keep your laptop with you at all times, as you need it to work and write anyway, and charge your phone, headphones, and camera batteries from it. In that way, it’s better than even a typewriter. As long as you take your 2 prong plug adapter with you everywhere, things will work out. Hell, most of the tour buses even have 240v outlets. This is Scandinavia for chrissake, not the green hills of Africa.
What I took and why I took it (the stuff that wasn’t crap):
1) Camera Gear: One camera body only. I use a Fuji X-T2. A good camera is like a good rifle, which is to say, dependable. 3 lenses ( in 35mm equivalent terms I took the 3 main zooms, 15-35, 28-80, 80-300), a UV and circular polarizer for each, and lens hoods for each to help keep the rain off. A Gitzo Mountaineer 0 series carbon fiber tripod with an Acra-Tech ballhead that together come in under 3 pounds. Also, 5 camera batteries, 2x128GB SD cards, remote shutter release, Lenspen, and a large microfiber cloth x2. I’ve since picked up a set of 3 ND filters, 3, 6, and 9 stops, made by Gobi—they are circular 72mm threads that all screw together with a metal cap on each end. I added step down rings for each of my smaller lenses, and overall the setup is light and tiny and I would take it next time. In my room I’ll keep a 2oz bottle of lens cleaner, small blower bulb, and a Wasabi dual USB battery charger. That’s it. At no point did I miss a shot for lack of equipment, only lack of skill, and equipment can’t create skill; only hard work, sweat, and blood can do that.
2) Clothes: Don’t be a primadonna. Just don’t. And don’t bring cotton. Travel clothes are merino or synthetic or they are crap. In addition to what you get on the plane with, you need 4 pairs of wool socks. I like Darn Tough brand because that is what they are. Bring 4 pairs of underwear, 2 complete merino base layers and plan on rotating and living in them. Add a t-shirt. You already have your 2 pairs of softshell pants, which look good, don’t wrinkle, breath well and shed water, and your snow pants, hard shell jacket, a swimsuit for the hot springs and crossing the hall to the bathroom in your B&B. Throw in a microfiber pack towel because of rain. Now, either bring a heavy wool sweater that looks good when you’re out drinking, or buy one when you get there—Iceland makes some of the finest wool sweaters in the world and they make a good souvenir, and you will need a good souvenir unless you are hunting and bringing home a stuffed puffin, or perhaps a stuffed fox or reindeer. Finally, bring a goose down jacket to go under your hardshell. If you prefer, a water-proof, insulated goose down parka can be used in place of layering the hard shell and down jacket. Iceland also makes fantastic parkas, perhaps better parkas than the Italians make wine, and last considerably longer.
3) Luggage: Use a real backpack: Its always the poor slobs with the hard-sided carry-ons that have to leave them on the jetway to get checked—you have a soft bag so they are unlikely to ask. Get yours in black, , it will look smaller. And for chrisssake, you don’t need a specialty photo backpack, because you don’t have that much photo gear and because you’re not going to put it in your backpack anyway. Mine is an older 36 liter Gregory Tarne, a climber’s pack. Put your hiking boots in a heavy duty garbage bag in the bottom. When you move from one place to another, the boots and the wet and dirty clothes go in the bag. To save room, wear your heavy clothes to the airport. For me, this was my Norwegian Wool Sweater I’d received as a gift and my goose down jacket. Once I’m in my seat, these become my lower back cushion and aren’t taking up space in my bag. Plus, if the plane crashes you’ll want the extra padding—trust me on this. The rest of your clothes go in packing cubes. The best packing cubes are made by Rick Steves; the man knows travel. Your personal bag, the one that goes under your seat, should be a messenger bag and have your laptop and camera equipment in it. I use a Tenba Cooper 13 Slim. It’s well padded, waterproof, and good for walking around town where you don’t want to lug the backpack and tripod. If they ask you to check your bag, say no. If they insist, fight them. If you fight them, win. If you lose, lose well, and check your backpack. All your expensive stuff is in your personal bag anyway.
Some advice that would have been worth fifty cents to me when I was twenty-one:
1) Ounces add up to Pounds: Ultra-light backpackers know this. They measure food in calories per ounce. Why take venison jerky at 90 calories per ounce when you can take peanut butter at 180 calories per ounce and cut your food weight in half? Writers know this too. Learn to cut gear like a writer cuts adverbs, which are useless and fluffy and distracting. Cut them, and what you are left with is the truth, and the truth is why a man travels and writes. Now apply this rule ruthlessly….
2) Cut the “small cheaps”: When I say small cheaps I mean just that—the collection of small, cheap things that you rarely end up needing and don’t cost much if you have to purchase them in-country. I can go two weeks without a shave, 3 bothers me, but I don’t take a razor, and I certainly don’t take my electric beard trimmer, and if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t take the charger. Two weeks in, I go to the Spar market, buy a 5 pack of disposable razors for 1 quid, some shaving cream for 4 more bucks, then I use 3 of the razor blades and 10% of the cream. I leave the rest at the B&B for the next guy. I’m out a few franc or pesos or lira, but I didn’t carry that stuff around for 22 days to use it for 10 minutes on one morning of one day. Things you use every day like toothpaste and deodorant, bring them—you don’t gain anything by adding them to your already full pack when arriving. Skip the chapstick, nail clippers, tweezers, bandaids, and extra batteries for chrissake. Don’t skip the bottle opener. Reykjavik bars close earlier than the market.
3) Cut Plan B replaceables: If you absolutely can’t get it in-country, or only then for an intolerably high price, take it for backup. Otherwise, don’t. Think of it like pot odds in poker: If there is a 10% chance you will need it, what are you willing to risk paying to eliminate the 10% change that will happen. Would you play Russian Roulette for $20? No. For $1 Billion? I wouldn’t, and neither should you, but you get the point, which is that Russians are crazy. If I can get a replacement camera body in a Moscow camera store at full retail I’m not taking my backup camera to Russia—I hate paying full retail, but I hate carrying extra stuff more than I hate paying full retail. If there was a 90% chance my camera was going to break I would take a different camera. Crappy gear is worse than defective ammunition.
4) Maximize double-duty gear: My phone is my notepad, compass, has books on it via my Kindle app, is my video camera, calculator, watch, and has a flashlight. My maps are saved as PDFs on my Google Drive and stored offline on my phone, as are pictures of my driver’s license and passport. Always take a map, and your sense of direction. My Kindle weighs nothing, is waterproof, and the batteries last longer than my passport. On it are my travel guide books, novels—Fitzgerald, Dos Passos, Twain, Faulkner, and others—and some non-fiction for when I feel like It. I took a book on Norse mythology to Iceland. Between the phone and Kindle, I don’t need a pen, pencil, highlighter, or typewriter. It’s more efficient than tying up a knife wound with monofilament line. A wool sweater is your insulation; you don’t looked like a damned fool if you take a lady out to nice dinner—it doesn’t smell or need to be cleaned until you get back—it’s the only shirt you need and therefore you don’t take 2 other shirts. One pair of nice looking but sturdy Gore-Tex shoes; I like Eccos, as they are good for a stroll around town or on shorter hikes. All you need are those and your boots. And of course, 2 or 3 zoom lenses instead of a bag full of primes.
5) Inconvenient is not Ineffective: I like 7 foot tall 7 pound tripods. Using one is like staring down a charging Rhino through the sights of .577 Westley Richards double—you know it’s going to get the job done. But my Gitzo Mountaineer Series 0 is carry-on height if I remove the ballhead, weighs 2.4 pounds, and the Acra-Tech ball head weighs 3/4 of a pound. Did I have to stoop over and shoot without the center column extended and my backpack hanging from the hook in 60 MPH Icelandic winds? Yes. Do I take a lot of shots on this setup with the 2 second timer or cable release switch? Yes. Did I miss any shots because of this? No. Inconvenient is not ineffective. I also use round filters, change camera batteries instead of using the battery grip, edit on my 13 inch laptop, re-wear a pair of wool socks once in a while, and wear the same pair of shoes every day, when I’m not in my boots. If a man is truly good at his craft he won’t need to depend on luxuries.
6) Know what you really can’t live without: We all have something. When I’m hiking long distances, I nevertheless take good coffee and a steeper for pour-overs. Instant Coffee is the lowest form of coffee and I for one would rather shoot myself than drink it. In Iceland, I took a 20oz vacuum bottle, filled it up at my hotel each morning before I got on the bus, and most days filled it up again when stopped for lunch. The trick with all this is that you only get so many exceptions—number your preferences from 1-5 and cut out numbers 2,3,4, and 5.
Editor’s Note: Please respond with any questions and equally with any thought or ideas on traveling light. I’m always looking to improve that fine balance between having just the right stuff and nothing but!