The Gear You Need: Backpacking in Southeast Asia

In the past I've failed miserably at the packing ethos of taking only what I need. My best intentions always surrendered to the "need" to have a pair of flats, and a pair of heels, and two pairs of flip-flops because, well, your shoes have to match your outfit. (And don't get me started on jackets.)

But when I was faced with the daunting task of packing for a five-week backpacking trip through Southeast Asia last June, I knew two things: I didn't have anyone to impress and I was going on the cheap. Factor in the fact that I was traveling during the rainy season and the sum total of my apparel translated into the following: tank tops, comfy shorts, and something to protect against the rain. And, considering that hot and humid is the status quo in Southeast Asia, I knew that I would sweat through anything and everything I brought, so I was leaving clothes that I actually liked at home.

What I was in need of was a serious (and seriously breathable) rain jacket; a backpack tailored to sweaty, sticky, and humid conditions; a pair of shoes that could handle rain and water; a towel that'd dry fast—even in Southeast Asia's humidity; and a travel sheet to protect me from whatever stains might decorate all those five-bucks-a-night beds in my immediate future. My criteria: light, packable, and breathable. Now (unfortunately) back in the Western world, I offer you the five pieces of gear that I used while traveling through cities, jungles, waterfalls, temples, and cheap hotels. Hopefully my choices will help inform your own.

Arc'teryx Beta SL
As jackets go, Arc'teryx is the Mack daddy of manufacturers, as evidenced by the Beta SL, the perfect rainy-day companion in a hot and humid locale. The superlight jacket proved eternally versatile: I could easily stuff it into the depths of my day pack and pull it back out without disturbing the contents of the bag because it was so light and packable. More surprisingly, it kept me relatively cool (or, at least didn't make me pour sweat) even though rain jackets always seem to trap moisture in—and this one doesn't even have pit vents. The reason? Gore-Tex Paclite, the breathable material from which the jacket was made. Not durable enough, perhaps, to stand up to gale-force winds, but perfectly suited for Southeast Asia. Other simple, no-frill design details like a singular zipper, two hip pockets with small zips, and an attached hood also kept the jacket light, functional, and remarkably user-friendly.
$250, arcteryx.com

Osprey Stratos 24
On hot days (or hot climes) backpacks reveal a fatal flaw: Even if the most strenuous physical activity you do is light walking, half an hour later your back is soaked in sweat. And that was exactly what I wanted to avoid. Fortunately, manufacturers are also aware of this problem, and solutions like those implemented on the Osprey Stratos have carved a new niche in ventilation-friendly design. Their approach is simple: The back panel arches convexly away from your back. So instead of the pack resting directly on your back, you have a layer of mesh resting there instead, creating a pocket of air between your body and the backpack. In the nearly unbearable humidity of Cambodia, the Stratos managed to keep most of my back relatively…er, less than sweat-soaked (though at this point I'd grown accustomed to a constant state of what I liked to call "a sweaty mess"). The only problem? The shoulders, top, and bottom of the pack still sit on your body—but until they invent a hovering version, I think that's an unavoidable reality of wearing a backpack. Thankfully the hip belt and straps are made of extra-breathable Spacer mesh, which reduces moisture and increases airflow. As for protecting my belongings against the rain, the Stratos did a fine job. The water resistant zipper on the front pocket and the flap over the main compartment zipper ensure that water didn't seep through the cracks.

One travel-specific caveat: the ventilation-friendly design of the Stratos actually proved to be a bit awkward in the field. The stiff back panel arches into the backpack's main compartment, creating an oddly shaped (imagine an off-kilter hourglass) space that requires a careful game of Tetris to pack, despite its 24 liters of storage space. The backpack's rigid, rectangular frame also proved annoying when trying to cram it in overhead compoartments, under bus seats, or into tuk-tuks,—perhaps indicating that this pack is more at home in the backcountry than train-hopping in the developing world.
$129, ospreypacks.com