To be fair... I didn't originally want to take it. But I found out that I simply couldn't fit all my camera gear, tent, sleeping bag, glacier kit, food and two T-shirts for 14 days into my 19th pack. So the lads sent me this Lowe Alpine Altus with a volume of 52–57 litres, and minus five bars, two instant porridges and one pair of socks that ended up staying at home, I made it all fit.
Phew! I'd rather go hungry than leave my telephoto lens at home.
Actually, I can't stand it at all. Having gear dangling off the outside of my pack. I want a nice, compactly packed bag. Partly so I don't look like a scarecrow. And partly so nothing distracts me with its swinging when I'm walking and climbing. That would drive me round the bend. And after flying halfway round the globe, barely half my stuff would have come out on the baggage belt in Bishkek.
So when I checked in my pack at Václav Havel Airport Prague, the only thing strapped to the outside was my sleeping mat. I even stuffed the ice axe inside. All good, then. I'm happy. Let's hit the mountains!
"For heaven's sake, get this 20-kilo rat off me. I'm not going any further. We're pitching the tent!" True, after 20 hours on the road, with the time difference robbing us of most of the night, I was absolutely dead. On the other hand, that wide hip belt took a fair bit of weight off my shoulders. Thanks for that! And for the anatomically shaped back. We pitch the tent, I pull my sleeping bag out of the bottom compartment, shove the Altus under my head and good night. Tomorrow brings a bigger helping. 1,400 metres of ascent to the Hotel Korona. Yellow tin huts on the edge of the glacier at 4,000 metres. I won't get any sleep there either, with my head pounding.
Because this shot is made for a telephoto lens. Except it's stuck, buried under a water bottle, a down jacket, energy bars and spare clothes. Hmm, putting heavy stuff low down against your back is great for the right centre of gravity, but when you need to get to it without throwing half the contents of your pack onto the snow... Well, look at that! That's what the zipped side entry is for. I drop the pack, pull out the lens, take the photo and pop it back in its place with no fuss. Clever bit of design.
I hate scree! Grrr! And here I am, stuck halfway up the slope, everything around me starts moving the moment I touch it, and we've still got 200 vertical metres to go to the col. If only there were something to lean on. True, I've got an ice axe on my pack. That would do. But in this mess I'm glad just to be standing. Taking the pack off as well? No way. And hey... hand behind my back, thumb and forefinger unhook the clip from the axe head... and it comes off the pack even while I'm wearing it. Clever thing, this Altus.
The Tian Shan is really toying with us. First we shelter from the rain under the firs, then a moment later the sun starts blazing at full steam. Just as we're slogging up that brutally steep bit. Fine, off comes the jacket. Quick as you like. Into the stretchy front pocket it goes. Lowe Alpine really thought that one through. Besides the jacket, it even fits a bag of rubbish from the last three days here in no man's land.
And now that we've scrambled all the way up here – to Lake Ala-Kul (completely frozen, by the way) – it starts snowing. So what now? We flee downhill! It snows and snows. I don't even bother with the rain cover, because I'm too lazy to stop and faff about in this muck. I'd rather keep going. And I'm right to. This pack can take a beating. Even this two-hour snowfall. My stuff inside is still dry.
... is how quickly I can pack it every morning. True, I'm a minimalist, I don't carry much and I've had plenty of practice packing. But this Lowe Alpine Altus is so well designed that everything has its place. It has neither too many nor too few pockets. Just the right amount. And the top opening is exceptionally roomy. What more can I say, ladies and gentlemen. My 25th pack may well be my last. This is what lifelong love looks like.
