February 16, 2010: Quest for perfect ski pants.

As of summer 2008, I am not in New England anymore (woohoo!); I am back West — this time in Seattle, Washington. Since moving here, not only have I learned to tie a figure eight (and prefer the bowline to it), but I also now tend to reach to my toe piece at first when getting out of my downhill bindings. In other words, "skiing" these days is "alpine touring" to me unless specifically qualified with "downhill" or "inbounds".

So, when I say "ski pants", I mean "ski touring pants". That said, "touring" pants work fine in the resort, while the resort pants don't really work in the backcountry, so I don't feel too bad about hijacking the term "ski pants".

Now that I am done with the preface, here is the deal: you'd think that with the two zillion companies in the business selling pants for anywhere between $50 and $500, somebody somewhere somehow would have figured out what a perfect ski pant might be. No, they haven't.

I spent 60+ hours over the course of a few weeks looking at many manufacturers' websites. I swallowed my well-developed sense of common sense, and enabled effing Flash in my browser, so that I could (using "could" loosely) navigate through the Arc'teryx website. I upgraded my internal skip-the-bullshit-get-me-specs filter to the latest version so that I could understand what a pair of North Face pants actually is (that ended up requiring a walk to their store here in downtown Seattle, as they don't even tell you what a pair of pants weighs on their website, and no, I am not kidding). I manually clicked through every single one of the gazillion pants on the Mammut site, as they don't provide the user with any sensible (or otherwise) way to select only a subset of the gazillion pants that has a chance of being relevant to what the user is looking for. I looked at Arc'teryx, Cloudveil, GoLite, Marmot, Mammut, MontBell, Mountain Hardwear, North Face, Outdoor Research, Patagonia and probably some others that I am forgetting. In other words, I really made an effort, and yes, I was hoping that even if they don't know how to put up a user-friendly website, they can at least produce a good pair of $400 pants. I mean, seriously, it's like — whatchacallit? — their core competency or something.

So, what exactly was I looking for? A few things.

First, no insulation. Because: (a) often, I just don't need any, and (b) when I do, I want to be able to adjust it to the current conditions, and not be stuck with what is inherently a part of the pant.

Second, thigh vents are a necessity. For essentially the same reason: these are mountains we are taking these things to, and that means changing weather, as well as changing the intensity of the exercise, so yes, there absolutely has to be a way to adjust the amount of heat I lose without having to stop to change layers.

Third, once I have thigh vents, I don't need full side zips, or even ankle zips. I seriously don't. Most of them suck for side venting purposes, and those that don't, still add weight and a potentially serious point of failure. And no, on that one time a winter occasion when I really need to add a layer under my ski pants before I get to camp, I am really okay clicking out of my skis: most of my insulation layers can't be put on over the skis anyway. There is one more reason I don't want full side zips, and that brings me to my next point...

Fourth, I need pockets. Butt pockets are not really worth their weight for two reasons: (1) cumbersome to reach for when you are wearing a pack, particularly with sharp metal crap (ice ax, skis, poles, crampons) attached to it, and (2) I don't want to accidentally sit down on stuff I might carry in my pockets in the mountains. That leaves us with hand and thigh pockets, and yes, I want all four of them, and I want them decent-sized. Why? Cause on the way up I rarely (if ever!) wear anything beyond a baselayer on my upper body, and baselayers don't have pockets. Yet, the more stuff I can fit into my pockets, the fewer stops I will feel the need to make on the way up. And even when I do happen to wear a layer with a pair of pockets on my upper body, the upper body is where people tend to shed/add layers as the weather and the intensity of the workout change, and that means that what you just put into your pocket (presumably because you felt you would have to use it soon) can well inadvertently end up in your backpack once you shed that outer layer (or else you have to remember to move it from your pocket when you shed that layer).

Fifth, some of this stuff people carry in their pockets in the mountains is important: I want my avalanche beacon securely tethered to a strong loop inside my zippered pocket. (Yes, my beacon did come with a beacon-carrying harness, and yes, a pant pocket is a much better place to put it in for a set of reasons that I am thinking should be obvious.) So, give me the loop! In each pocket, please, as the beacon is not the only thing that I can't afford to lose.

Sixth, no suspenders — give me a set of belt loops. The last thing I need on my upper body is more straps: I already carry a pack and probably an avalung. (And BOO to Black Diamond for not licensing the Avalung to other backpack manufacturers!)

Seventh, stuff that the manufacturers actually understand: some sort of gaiters, edge guards on the inner side of the ankle, and the whole thing should be water- or at least snowproof.

Finally, with all of that, I want the darn thing to weigh in at no more than 600 gram (21 ounces). Okay, 650 at most, but only if you also add a full-crotch zip. I am sure I don't quite appreciate them.

That is it. I don't think that any of my requirements are outrageous or esoteric. I actually don't quite understand how any of them is not common sense. Yet, if, as of February 2010, there is a pant on the market that meets all of them, I am not aware of it.

So, what do I do? Well, I found one pant that is almost perfect, in the sense that it actually meets all but one of my requirements: it only has three pockets, not four — two hand pockets, and one thigh pocket. What happened to the symmetry and why not two thigh pockets is beyond me, but then I am now so extremely disappointed in the ski pant industry that I figured I will put up with just three pockets for now.

The pant is Patagonia Primo, and to Patagonia went my $350. (I would like to make that a link to the relevant part of the Patagonia site, but the pant is not there anymore! I guess they don't want your $350.)

Oh, and I absolutely have to remark on one more thing. I ended up buying these pants in size S, as in "Small". I guess it's okay, unless you realize that I am a 6'2" dude weighing 180 pounds. (They are a little short, but that's okay since I don't wear them without ski boots.) I guess my waist is inherently not wide, but even with that in mind...dear ski pant manufacturers...can you please realize that it's not street clothing that you are manufacturing. I am sure some of your customers carry a lot of that extra adipose tissue on them, but most of us actually expend non-trivial amounts of calories on a regular basis, and as a result, we find it hard to accumulate enough fat on our waists to comfortably accommodate your concept of "large", or in my case, even "medium". Next time you try to figure out your pant sizing, can you get a few of us out of the mountains, and size your offerings against us, instead of sizing them against that marketing manager of yours whose daily workout is limited to the walk between the car and the elevator?