We scour the web every day for the best deals on outdoor gear, and we found a lot of worthy steals at , which lasts now through September 7. Here are the five best deals on camping essentials that we think are worth your money.

Big Agnes Daisy Mae 15 Sleeping Bag (Women鈥檚) ($217; 25 Percent Off)

The was a favorite in our 2019 Summer Buyer鈥檚 Guide test. 鈥淐onsider this (and the men鈥檚 Anvil Horn 15) a full sleep system, with a polyester-taffeta lining that鈥檚 so soft it feels like silk, and an attached sleeve that holds a rectangular pad in place,鈥� one tester wrote. It鈥檚 currently 25 percent off.

Marmot Tungsten 4-Person 3-Season Tent ($274; 25 Percent Off)

Tester Ryan Stuart called the best backpacking tent for families. 鈥淲hen you鈥檙e camping with your partner and a kid, or two, and maybe the dog, you could bring two tents. But I think piling into one tent is better,鈥� he wrote. 鈥淗alf the reason I camp with the family is to enjoy time together. And with the Tungsten 4, you won鈥檛 be sleeping on top of each other when the bonding stops. At 8.8 pounds it鈥檚 going to feel heavy if you carry it all, but it鈥檚 one of the lightest tents available for its square footage, at just over two pounds per-person.鈥� It鈥檚 currently 25 percent off. Here鈥檚 a look inside:听

Exped MegaMat Duo 10 Sleeping Pad ($262; 25 Percent Off)

The is the most comfortable mattress we鈥檝e used for car camping, hands down. It鈥檚 a 10-centimeter-thick air pad with memory foam insulation. It鈥檚 pricey, but it鈥檚 the closest we鈥檝e come to feeling like we were in our bed at home while camping. 鈥淯nlike air beds, this mattress鈥檚 air chamber is surrounded by memory foam鈥攁n arrangement that makes it more comfortable to sleep on than the Tempurpedic mattress I use on my bed at home,鈥� 飞谤辞迟别听翱耻迟蝉颈诲别听columnist Wes Siler. It鈥檚 currently 25 percent off.

Jetboil MicroMo Stove ($109; 25 Percent Off)

国产吃瓜黑料鈥檚 Gear Guy, Joe Jackson, reviewed back in 2016鈥攁nd five years later, we still rely on it as a solid backcountry option for heating up water quickly. 鈥�The MicroMo boils water just as fast and simmers just as smoothly as Jetboil鈥檚 , but in a svelter 27-ounce package,鈥� he wrote. 鈥淓xpect to have water for two cups of coffee ready in about two minutes. It鈥檒l also cook a freeze-dried meal in no time.鈥� It鈥檚 currently 25 percent off.

Nemo Disco 15 Sleeping Bag ($225; 25 Percent Off)

In our听2017 Summer Buyer鈥檚 Guide, we picked the as the best sleeping bag for 鈥渟ide sleepers who like to sprawl.鈥� The bag widens at the shoulders and knees, so you have plenty of room while on your side. We also like the two zippered chest vents that keep you from overheating on warmer nights. 鈥淥n a 55-degree night, our testers opened the gills and left the bag鈥檚 full zip open for maximum venting,鈥� we wrote. It鈥檚 currently 25 percent off.

The post 5 Very Good Camping Deals We鈥檙e Eyeing at Backcountry鈥檚 Labor Day Sale appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Lars Alvarez-Roos, co-owner of听adventure travel听company Bio Bio Expeditions and legendary camp cook, has seen every type of outdoor cooking disaster imaginable in his 35 years as a guide鈥攆rom burgers charred like hockey pucks听to the time he used oven mitts to extinguish my flaming hair after I got overzealous with lighter fluid when I was working for him as a young guide. Here are his tips to help you avoid camp kitchen nightmares.

The Problem

Mixing vegetables and meat in a cooler. The result on day two or three of a听trip is meat juice permeating the cooler as the ice melts. 鈥淚t gets into everything and ends up contaminating it all,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says.

The Fix

鈥淥n a multi-day event, use a separate meat cooler, dairy cooler, and vegetable cooler,鈥� he says. That avoids cross contamination. 鈥淚f you are camping with just your family and are bringing enough food for a weekend, I would say everything should be separately vacuum packed,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says. Meats and cheeses need to be vacuum packed or at least in airtight containers or听resealable Ziploc bags,听but sometimes those can be penetrated by water if they鈥檙e not fully closed.

The Gear

If you鈥檒l be using it a lot, invest in a听 ($150). Otherwise,听you鈥檒l need airtight containers, resealable plastic听bags,听or a spare cooler.

The Problem

Not using enough ice.

The Fix

鈥淢ake sure you have at least one third of the cooler dedicated to maintaining your thermal reservoir,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says. That means that should should have a one-third ice to two-thirds perishables ratio at the beginning of your trip. 鈥淚f you pre-freeze vacuum-sealed meats, you could look at those as ice blocks,鈥� he says.

Alvarez-Roos also recommends using sealed ice containers so you don鈥檛 have to worry about melt water like in problem number one. 鈥淭ake gallon containers of milk, clean them out, fill them with your clean drinking water, and freeze them so you have good clean drinking water as the ice melts,鈥� he says.听Distribute the icea as evenly as possible throught the cooler.

The Gear

Any container that can hold frozen water. This also might be a good time to think of upgrading to a larger cooler if your current one doesn鈥檛 have enough space for all of your food with the appropriate ratio of ice.

The Problem

Forgetting the butter or oil. 鈥淭his is the number one thing people leave home when camping,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says.

The Fix

Have a designated camp cooking oil container with the date you last poured oil in on there. I use electrician鈥檚 tape and a Sharpie to label what it is and when I last topped up, and it lives in my camp kitchen box.

The Gear

Alvarez-Roos suggests the ($2) as a container to store your preferred cooking oil.

The Problem

Bad cutting board hygiene. 鈥淎 lot of times people cut the chicken on a cutting board then use the same one for lettuce and tomatoes,鈥� Alvarez-Roos听says. 鈥淭hat is a major no-no.鈥�

The Fix

Bring two or three cutting boards if you can and designate different boards for different types of food prep鈥擨 use one for meat and two for veggies, fruit, and cheese. It鈥檚 even easier if you get different colored boards and designate a specific color for a specific type of food throughout your camping trip. If everyone knows that the red cutting board is contaminated with things that could sicken us all and overfill our groover in mere hours, no one assumes it is clean and whips up a salad on it. Taking the assumption out of the equation leads to heaps less miscommunication.

The Gear

While wooden cutting boards are nicer to serve from, plastic cutting boards are easier to transport, easier to disinfect, and generally less expensive. You can get away with听flimsy ones, but I find that the extra rigidity like the boards in ($18) makes transporting food significantly easier.

The Problem

Burning things, or having the flame blow out on finicky camp stoves.

The Fix

Alvarez-Roos recommends orienting your stove so the prevailing wind is blocked and then keeping an eye on the actual size of the flame, especially if you鈥檙e not used to cooking on gas. 鈥淜eep an ear on it, too: the louder the noise the bigger the flame,鈥� he says.

The Gear

I have personally found that Camp Chef鈥檚 Rainier Stove ($170) has听a good simmer mode and enough wind-blocking capabilities to mitigate blow-outs on all but the windiest days.

The Problem

Cooking and cleaning in the dark.

The Fix

鈥淢ake sure you pack a headlamp for cooking听and also another light source,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says. 鈥淚f you get to camp after dark, it is really hard to cook dinner without.鈥� He recommends having two headlamps that live in your camp kitchen kit.

The Gear

The ($20) won my听inexpensive headlamp test a few years back.听Bringing a simple, reliable, solar lantern听听($25)听is another great way to hedge your bets against washing dishes in the dark.

The Problem

Not fully cleaning or disinfecting your dishes. This can lead to people getting sick.

The Fix

鈥淥n river trips, Bio Bio Expeditions uses a four-bucket system,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says.听Here鈥檚 how the system works: scrape your dishes into a garbage container, then soak them in a pre-rinse to soften tough food particles. Then, scrub like crazy in a bucket of dish soap and water. Step three: dip those dishes in a rinse听bucket of clean water to get the suds off. Finally, disinfect the dishes in a bucket of water with a capful or two of bleach in it and air dry.

鈥淚f you have the luxury of a river right there, that is ideal.鈥� Alvarez-Roos says.听The river affords a great deal of water to fill buckets with, but we do not suggest washing your dishes in the river. Please closely follow the local guidelines听to properly dispose of your grey water after use.

The Gear

Build a sanitizing station with dish soap, Clorox bleach, and a Sea to ($25).

The Problem

People burning themselves.

The Fix

Bring oven mitts and long tongs. Alvarez-Roos suggests using the longest tongs that storage space will allow. It is rare that you wish you had shorter tongs, but you will always be听thankful for extra distance when cooking over an open flame.

The Gear

Oven mitts听from home. If they can fit in your kitchen bin, some ($7).

The Problem

People not helping out in the kitchen.

The Fix

鈥淧eople cook better when they are happy, and people are happier when they have music,鈥� Alvarez-Roos says. 鈥淢ake sure there are some speakers and a way to play music in your outdoor cooking space.鈥�

Alvarez also taught me a rule that I have used for nearly two decades: if you鈥檙e on a cooking crew and don鈥檛 have a job, you should check in with someone who is busy and offer them a drink. Getting a cold lemonade served to you while flipping burgers in the heat is a quick path to happiness.

The Gear

I love the sound quality from JBL鈥檚 ($120). It nails a wide range of music, from sweet folk-tune voices to solid base drops. It鈥檚 slightly smaller than a classic 32-ounce Nalgene and听has about a 12-hour battery life, so a single charge can get you through a weekend鈥檚 worth of meal preparation and cleaning.

The post 9 Hacks to Avoid Camp Kitchen Setup Disasters appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

MSR Guardian Gravity Purifier ($250)

This ten-liter filter removes 99.9 percent of bacteria, protozoa, viruses, sediments, and microplastics via two-stage 0.02-micron hollow-fiber and activated-carbon filters. Just hang it from a tree and you鈥檒l have a liter of water in two minutes.

Igloo Reactor 24-Can Backpack Cooler ($120)

Soft coolers still reign for portability. Igloo鈥檚 fits food and drink for a weekend, and performs as well as pricier models.

Hydro Flask Outdoor Kitchen Collection 1 Quart Bowl ($25)

This hefty double-wall insulated steel bowl holds big portions, perfect for after a long day out on the trail. It also comes with a lid (we used it as a cutting board) for storing leftovers.

Stanley Legacy Quadvac Trigger-Action Mug ($25 and up)

The legacy prevents spills with a push-to-sip lid you can use one handed. It also fits in most small camp-chair cup holders.

VSSL Java Coffee Grinder ($145)

The Java鈥檚 hand-powered burrs produce a wide range of grinds, from French-press coarse to AeroPress fine.

REI Co-op Camp Prep Table ($100)

Adjustable legs mean the Camp Prep stays level even if the ground is not. The steel and aluminum build is stable yet light and easy to haul.

Camp Chef 4 Piece Carving Set ($72)

Don鈥檛 compromise at camp. Both the seven-and ten-inch knives in this set (which includes 16-inch tongs and a carving fork) have balanced blades that handle meat and veggies easily.

Yeti Roadie 24 Cooler ($200)

Yeti made its popular model just over a pound lighter, upped the insulation by 30 percent, and removed the drain plug, which bumps up the volume by 20 percent. The tall cubic shape is even better for packing.

Eureka Sprk+ Camp Stove ($55)

This stove sets up in seconds, and its 11,500-BTU burner brings a liter of water to a boil in four minutes. More impressive is the precise temperature control that kept our pancakes fluffy and our eggs over easy.

The post The Best Camp Kitchen Gear of 2021 appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Trying to be as eco-friendly as possible听while recreating听outdoors can often feel like an overwhelming task. There鈥檚 a lot to factor in when considering your ecological听footprint. Starting out small鈥攍ike changing up your approach to听cooking at camp鈥攊s much a more manageable step toward a more sustainable lifestyle. Here are some tips on how to be greener on your next night around the campfire.

Think About Refillable Fuel Options

In 2019, contributor Ryan Wichelns explained that the ubiquitous green one-pound propane bottles we all use for camp stoves are incredbily difficult to recycle. So if you use a gas-powered stove, consider ditching the听single-use cans that听fuel them in favor of refillable propane options. After all, we use big听reusable propane tanks to heat up our backyard grills, so why not our car camping stoves?听In the above video, contributor Bryan Rogala also outlined his favorite options, like the ($150) and the听 ($45).

Change Up Your Kitchenware Game

Instead of packing paper plates and听single-use utensils, consider bringing the听kitchenware you鈥檇 normally use at home. Though our Gear Guy, Joe Jackson, suggests leaving the fancier items in the cupboard:听鈥淣ice cookware has a tendency to get trashed when being cleaned by headlamp by a many-beers-deep camper,鈥� he wrote. 鈥淏ring the old pots, pans, and utensils you want to retire from your kitchen, or go get some听from听a thrift store.鈥� In contributor Amelia Arvesen鈥檚听guide to building a camp kitchen gear list, she agreed, and added that听plastic dishes are cheaper, lighter, and more durable. For听keeping things cold, she pointed to听听($10)鈥攁 cheaper and more eco-friendly alternative to a traditional plastic cooler.

On the flip side, it鈥檚 also good to consider camp food storage options that could be used for everyday tasks.听Jackson called this听听($12)听his favorite piece of gear of 2019. Not only does he like it for snacks and lunches, but also听for backpacking: 鈥淭he bag鈥檚 high heat tolerance and lack of creepy chemicals mean I can pour boiling water right into it from my Jetboil to rehydrate camp meals,鈥� he wrote.

Conserve and Reuse Water

Generally, you need a good amount听of water for cooking and cleaning at camp, especially with a big group. More often than not, perfectly reusable water ends up getting dumped out鈥攁nd not usually in the correct places, which could go against proper leave no trace principles. When rinsing your dishes, use a makeshift or portable sink (like this one columnist Jakob Schiller recommends)听to catch water, so it can be reused for other washes. That water could also be turned into another meal. In 2017, Jackson听outlined ways to keep your camp kitchen clean, and spoke with听Marco Johnson,听the field staffing director at the听听(NOLS) in Lander, Wyoming. Johnson recommended repurposing dishwater (with no soap) into a soup by bringing it to a boil once it鈥檚 scrubbed clean. 鈥淛ust be sure to transfer the water to a bowl before adding the soup, since you don鈥檛 want to dirty the pot all over again,鈥� Jackson wrote.

The post 3 Easy Ways to Make Your Camp Kitchen More Sustainable appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Professional explorer has burned through a lot of gear on the 85 expeditions he鈥檚 done to some of the world鈥檚 most remote places. He鈥檚 experienced the harshest conditions Mama Nature deals out, like minus 67 degree temperatures听in Siberia and听blazing-hot jungles in Bhutan. In those situations, he can鈥檛 count on unreliable products.

Over the past ten years, he鈥檚 taken the same two 听 ($160) on every single expedition. (Libecki is sponsored by MSR.) 鈥淵ou can take a hammer and beat an ice casing off of it, then fire that thing right up,鈥� he says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 always the workhorse that gets stuff done.鈥�

Libecki says the XGK is 鈥渨hat matters most鈥� during his trips to听extremely cold environments. 鈥淏ottom line is鈥攜ou go out to Antarctica or Greenland鈥攊f your stoves fail, your trip is done, but maybe your life, too,鈥� he听says. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e melting every single drop that you鈥檙e drinking, because you鈥檙e living in a freezer.鈥�

The reason he鈥檚 entrusted his life to the same two stoves for the past decade? The XGK always works.

I spoke with Owen Mesdag, senior product developer at MSR, to find out why. It turns out that the stove鈥檚 reliability is a result of simple design. You pour liquid fuel into your bottle, pressurize it by pumping, and just open the valve to deliver the fuel to the burner. 鈥淚f you could somehow swim through the fuel channel, you would be able to go from the fuel bottle through the pump, down the hose, through the generator loop, and out the hole in the fuel jet,鈥� Mesdag says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 completely open.鈥�

That open channel makes it remarkably easy to repair in the field, and it also cuts down possible mechanical failures over the life of the stove, unlike more complicated canister versions. 鈥淚f you were to run water through your garden hose, your hose isn鈥檛 going to break from running water through it,鈥� Mesdag says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 just a delivery system. It鈥檚 how to control liquid fuel from a pressurized vessel and release it in a usable form.鈥�

Libecki has not only used the XGK on dozens of expeditions, but sometimes for hundreds of hours per trip,听due to听how much time it takes to melt water. And that requires a lot of fuel. Luckily, the stove can run on just about anything combustible. 鈥淵ou go to all of these places around the world, and fuel options are usually limited,鈥� he says. 鈥淵ou might have benzene, you might have diesel fuel, you might even have jet fuel, but you could put Bacardi 151 in this thing.鈥�

And if that combustible fuel has serious contamination that gums up the stove? The XGK has an inner lining built specifically to be removed, and used as a pipe cleaner for the main hose. Additionally,听a hair-thin shaker needle lives inside the jet and听actively cleans the jet when the stove moves around (for example, while you鈥檙e walking to base camp and it鈥檚听moving听from side to side in your pack).

Finally, its physical durability is the result of the simple metal three-leg, three-arm stand surrounding the stove itself. Libecki regularly swings the stove like a weapon into a rock or hits it with an ice ax听to remove ice from the exterior. 鈥淵ou can just beat up the outside.听The worst you are going to do is dent it,鈥� Mesdag says. 鈥淲e machine and bend all of our parts together in-house, so we know how strong they are.鈥�

For all its simplicity, though, the XGK is not an easy stove to learn how to use. You need to know how to pressurize it and preheat it before you can get it fired up, which takes some time. Canister stoves鈥攍ike the WindBurner from MSR or most of Jetboil鈥檚 offerings鈥攃an be taken right out of the box, connected to fuel, and get you cooking with the click of a button.

Mesdag likens this to driving a stick-shift vehicle. 鈥淚f you get in an automatic, you can just go, which is great until it breaks,鈥� Mesdag says. When it comes to stoves, that payoff is arguable for a weekend summer backpacking trip, where a broken stove means cold ramen for dinner. It absolutely isn鈥檛 OK for polar explorers like Libecki.

The post This Camp Stove Is Virtually Unbreakable appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Raise your hand if you have a bunch of disposable听propane bottles lying around your garage. Sure, they鈥檙e convenient and easy to find.听But the cost of always buying new ones can add up,听they鈥檙e hard to dispose of properly, and they end up in the landfill. In this episode of the 101, Bryan Rogala shows us the 听($50), as well as two other听cost-effective and more eco-friendly ways to power your camp stove without using disposable one-pound听propane bottles.

The post 3 Refillable Propane Tanks for Camping appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

As gear editors, our job is to test products that are brand-spanking new and then tell you what we think about them. We do this with the full gamut of outdoor equipment鈥攆rom Hoka鈥檚 newest running shoes to the latest advancements in ski bindings. Sometimes, though, our go-to gear isn鈥檛 the newest or flashiest. We go for the items that work the best and have gotten scraped up and spilled on after being used time and again. In short: our most-trusted gear looks like it鈥檚 seen some shit. Our emotional connection to these things isn鈥檛 so much about the price tag or technical specs, but the fact that it鈥檚 held up over the years and accompanied us on many adventures. We asked six editors what gear they鈥檝e been testing for half a decade or more, and why they aren鈥檛 looking to upgrade anytime soon.

Osprey Exos 58 Pack ($220)

Ten years ago, I was an intern at 国产吃瓜黑料 with virtually zero money in my bank account but the desire to be outdoors as much as possible. I鈥檇 just gotten into climbing and was looking for a crag pack when I came across the at an REI used gear sale. It was in like-new condition and cost a very steep (to me) $74. Gear lust being what it is, I bought it, figuring I could use it for climbing adventures as well as backpacking trips. And that鈥檚 just what happened. This pack, which was made for ultralight backpacking, took countless trips to Joshua Tree and Idyllwild to help me scale rocks. It accompanied me and my wife on our honeymoon backpacking in Yosemite. Squirrels gnawed on it in the Pacific Northwest, tape gloves gunked it up in Indian Creek, and sunscreen, bug spray, and garbage have stained it on occasions too numerous to count. There aren鈥檛 a lot of frills: it鈥檚 a simple top-loader with a brain compartment and hipbelt pockets, but the suspension system is highly adjustable and always feels great on my back, even though there鈥檚 minimal padding. And despite being made of mesh and relatively thin fabric, it鈥檚 held up to ten years of rock abrasion, hard drops after long hikes, and branch stabbings. I have better packs in my closet now, but this one is still in rotation for weekend adventures, even though the zippers are crusty and there are plenty of tears in the mesh. There鈥檚 just too much nostalgia here. 鈥擶ill Taylor, gear director

Camp Chef Everest Stove ($148)

Until I went away to college, the only camping stove I鈥檇 used was my parents鈥� MSR WhisperLite from the 1980s. Even if we were just car camping, we cooked all our meals on that single burner. So, when I bought my boyfriend the for Christmas five years ago, I felt like I was investing in the outdoor equivalent of a luxury stainless-steel kitchen oven. Now I can鈥檛 imagine how we ever lived without it. Having two places to cook is a complete game changer when it comes to easy, efficient meal prep. The Everest in particular puts out an impressive 20,000 BTUs, which is enough to boil water in minutes and make light work of whipping up breakfast burritos for a crowd. It has endured years of desert windstorms and bacon grease and looks none the worse for the wear. 鈥擜riella Gintzler, associate editor

This item is currently out of stock.

听

Arc鈥檛eryx Atom LT Hoodie Jacket ($60)

Six years ago, I spotted a glistening on the used gear rack at the famed store鈥攁nd it was only $60. Sure, it was a size too big, in a boring black color, and fit me like a loose old sock, but the jacket provides me with versatile warmth to this day. It鈥檚 been all over the world with me and remains my go-to midlayer when I鈥檓 unsure about the forecast. It packs easily and provides ample room for layering underneath, and the zippers glide as smoothly as the day I brought it home. I鈥檒l be riding this horse until the day the zippers fall off. And then I鈥檒l gladly pay Arc鈥檛eryx to fix it. 鈥擡mily Reed, video producer

听

Herschel Supply Pop Quiz 22L Backpack ($60)

has been my everyday hauler for nearly seven years. It carried my essentials on flights to four continents, lugged my textbooks through high school and college, and accompanied me on car-camping trips. This backpack鈥檚 simple design is one of the reasons I have no intention of upgrading. Besides a padded laptop sleeve, there aren鈥檛 any spots in the main compartment for things to get lost in. The front pocket is easy to access and has pouches for organizing essentials. The other reason I鈥檓 loyal to this pack is its durability. The zippers have never gotten stuck or come off the tracks. And though the fabric has become more supple over the years, it hasn鈥檛 ripped once. The leather bottom doesn鈥檛 look as new as it did in 2014, but I prefer to think of the wear as a patina that gives the backpack character. 鈥擟laire Hyman, editorial assistant

听

Nike Dri Fit Tennis Cap ($125)

In 2011, I took a trip with my family to Switzerland鈥攖he home country of my favorite tennis player, Roger Federer. As a high schooler obsessed with the sport, this trip felt very much like a mecca. I bought as a tribute to Federer at a sports store in Geneva and wore it as a lucky charm for every match I played thereafter. I continued to wear it years later in college, but it became my go-to cap for the years I was on a sailing team at William & Mary听in Virginia. If we were practicing, it was on my head. I capsized for the first time in it, too. But its supposed luck proved true: I got my first bullet (first place in a regatta) while sporting it. You can tell it鈥檚 been dunked in the James River dozens of times by its yellowish tint (it used to be white) and its subtle funk. It鈥檚 lasted so long because of its cotton-polyester blend that dries quickly, and because of the sturdy Velcro strap that鈥檚 kept it on my dome in the middle of surprise squalls. Now I wear it whenever Federer is playing in a contentious quarterfinal or when I鈥檓 in a situation that calls for an extra bit of luck. 鈥擩eremy Rellosa, reviews editor

听

Mysterious Patagonia Capilene Quarter-Zip Long-Sleeve

Sometime around 2009, my dad gave me this Patagonia zip-up. The tag is so bleached from washing that it can only be identified as an early iteration of . This shirt entered my life before I had braces or knew how to drive. It has outlasted every romantic relationship and questionable haircut. Over the years, it鈥檚 been my backcountry security blanket鈥攖he perfect weight to throw on as a midlayer when the air gets chilly, but thin enough to wear as a base layer. I鈥檝e lent it to鈥攁nd subsequently wrestled it back from鈥攎any underdressed friends. Despite more than a decade of heavy use, it鈥檚 in good enough shape to wear to the bar after a hike or ski run鈥攊t looks nearly new aside from one quarter-inch hole near the hem. The telltale baby blue of this layer can be spotted in most photos of my happiest memories over the past 11 years鈥攍earning to backcountry ski, camping and backpacking with friends and family, and climbing in epic places. When I鈥檓 ready for my next adventure, it鈥檒l be the first thing on my packing list. 鈥擬aren Larsen, assistant editor

The post The Gear We’ve Tested for Half a Decade appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Roughing it is out. These luxuries will make your campsite feel like an open-air extension of your living room.

L.L.Bean Men鈥檚 Fleece-Lined Flannel Shirt ($89)

You no longer have to choose between your favorite hoodie, flannel, and fleece: they鈥檝e been wrapped into that鈥檚 as good for chopping wood as for reading by the fire.

Big Agnes Camp Robber Bedroll ($300)

Tired of your partner stealing the covers under the stars? The zips into its own fitted double-pad cover that, besides preventing hogging, has a pair of slots to keep your pillows from coming loose听at night.

Smartwool Mountaineering Extra Heavy Crew Socks ($25)

Arch and ankle support keep in place on your foot and calf, and extra-heavy cushioning makes them thick and warm. They鈥檙e peerless for camp lounging.

Haflinger Classic Grizzly Slippers ($125)

tick all the boxes for cool-weather camp footwear: open heel, good traction, soft wool upper, and a cork midsole that molds to your foot.

Miir Coffee Canister Storage and Pourigami Pour-Over ($30 each)

You should never compromise on camp coffee. The 鈥檚 accordion-style seal keeps air out so your grounds stay fresh. packs down so well, you鈥檒l be tempted to carry it every day.

听

MPowerd Luci Explore Light ($75)

The conveniences of your nightstand are packed into the solar-powered : timed lights, charger, and Bluetooth speaker.

Patagonia 颅Crosstrek Fleece Bottoms ($99)

Cozy on the inside and stretchy all around, these fleece-lined tights offer听full range of movement with an extra hit of warmth.

鈥嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬏�

Stanley Classic Legendary Bottle ($35)

There鈥檚 a reason Stanley has been making vessels like this since 1913: they just work. will keep your favorite beverage hot for 20 hours.

鈥嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌�

Yeti听Trailhead Dog Bed ($300)

Don鈥檛 bark at the price. is a two-for-one: the inner pad is removable and useful when space is tight; the outer bed is great at home. Both have a waterproof base.

鈥嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌�

Snow Peak Takibi Fire and Grill Pit ($320)

Setup of 鈥嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧�嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌� is as simple as it gets, so you can spend less time making camp and more time relaxing by the fire. It slides into an easy-to-carry canvas travel bag and stows flat until your next s鈥檓ores session.

鈥嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧�嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌嬧赌�

The post Unnecessary (but Insanely Comfy) Camping Gear We Love appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

鈥淎re you watching porn?鈥�

It鈥檚 the middle of the night. My wife lifts the edge of her sleep mask and looks at me, my face lit by a glowing iPhone. Caught in the act.

Luckily, she鈥檚 open-minded about this sort of thing. 鈥淪o what are you into?鈥� she asks, leaning over to take a look.

I show her. There鈥檚 a bearded man in a plaid shirt pan-frying trout fillets over a small wood-burning camp stove. Behind him, a serene mountain lake reflects the surrounding peaks.

He is not alone. There is a dog.

She seems disappointed but unsurprised. She already knows the guy on the screen, because lately he鈥檚 been an obsession of mine.

To be honest, most outdoor videos don鈥檛 do it for me. Too many hairy bushcrafters, grim-visaged survivalists, perky trail hikers, or slick gearheads鈥攁ll overenthusiastically documenting their recent trips and latest purchases. But these are different.

Steve Despain is proprietor of , a small Utah company that sells patented wood-burning stoves of his own design, plus assorted other premium-quality camping products, most of which you can see him using in hundreds of videos. His has more than 160,000 subscribers, and he racks up views in the tens of millions. He鈥檚 all over and , too.

Very little happens in his videos, but that鈥檚 probably why they cast such a spell. Steve drives or hikes to a dramatic destination鈥攕ometimes the desert, sometimes the mountains鈥攅ither by himself or with his family. He makes camp and maybe fishes a little. Then the real action starts. Steve sets up his small stove, lights a fire, and cooks.听

Over the years, he鈥檚 roasted whole chickens, grilled steaks, made pots of chili, and baked cakes鈥攂ut the classic meals, the two he falls back on over and over, are either freshly caught trout with garlic and lemon, or eggs and bacon on a bed of hash browns.听

It always looks delicious, and he always sighs over every bite, usually with a comment like 鈥淪o good.鈥澨�

Steve is a laconic presence on-screen. He doesn鈥檛 go in for the nonstop narration typical of these kinds of videos. Instead, he invites you to simply watch what he鈥檚 doing. He adds occasional explanations or bits of advice as the need arises. He speaks in a near whisper. The effect is calming, intimate.听

Each video is different but always the same, a variation on a theme, like a Bach cantata. For example, he punctuates most outings with a sequence at dawn where he quietly boils water and makes coffee. He grinds the beans on the spot with a portable grinder he sells on his website.

I cannot overstate how weirdly restorative I find Steve鈥檚 videos, especially after a stressful day. Apparently, I鈥檓 not alone. There are tens of thousands of comments on his YouTube channel, many like this:

I very rarely comment on videos but I just had to. I鈥檓 a 21 year old college student who is a typical millennial. Heavy use of social media, consumer of material goods 鈥� and never have I watched and felt more happiness and peace than when I watched this video.

As sales tools, his videos run the risk of doing more soothing than selling. Commenters began comparing them to the purportedly therapeutic ASMR videos that have been trending on YouTube lately. ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) is the scalp-tingling reaction that people claim to have to close-ups of somebody brushing their hair or crinkling paper or whispering softly. Steve鈥檚 reassuring demeanor reminds some of his followers of the late Bob Ross, the PBS painting instructor and an ironic cult hero of the ASMR crowd.听

At first, Steve wasn鈥檛 sure if this was a compliment or not鈥擱oss is a mildly ridiculous figure, the king of kitsch鈥攂ut he鈥檚 decided to embrace the association. He now attaches the #ASMR hashtag to some of his new posts.

ASMR doesn鈥檛 work on me, but Steve鈥檚 videos are definitely my personal lava lamp. They鈥檙e mesmerizing, transporting鈥攖hey instantly take me out of the city, where people work late and eat takeout over their kitchen sinks, and deliver me to the mountains, where a pan of fish is popping and sizzling over red coals.

That Steve seems to be doing what he loves—camping, fishing, cooking, being with his dogs and family—while also making a living at it only makes the videos even more inspirational. 

The gear he sells is nice, too. I’ve gone online and bought a lot of it in the past few years. At the heart of the product line are Steve’s small, beautifully designed wood-burning stoves, ingeniously hinged so that they fold flat when not in use. I own several.

The original car-camping model, the , sells for 60 bucks. The tiny, ultralight backpacking version, (which can easily fit in a shirt pocket), costs less. They both also come in even lighter titanium versions. A network of perforations in the large stove’s 18-gauge stainless-steel walls supplies air, directs combustible gases, and focuses the heat, all of which helps generate higher temperatures than lighter competitors and mitigates steel warping, the primary problem with other wood-burning stoves. The things easily run on the broken bits of wood and twigs that other campers ignore.

Over the past nine years, the company claims to have sold more than 70,000 stoves, with almost no paid advertising, at prices ranging from $50 for the stainless-steel Nano to $150 for the all-titanium G2. Most of that time, they weren’t available on Amazon (and few Firebox products ), and you won’t find Firebox stuff in major retail outlets like Cabela’s or REI, either. He markets the gear himself on YouTube and Instagram and Facebook, and sells the vast majority through the website.

Last year, Steve sold roughly 12,000 stoves, along with pots, pans, and other camping items. He grossed more than $1.5 million and had to add a fourth employee to help pack and ship. He has no partners and no debt, and just paid cash for a new warehouse-cum-office. Not bad for someone who barely finished high school.

Steve lives in a perfect feedback loop. His love of the outdoors fuels his business, and the business allows him to spend an enviable amount of time outdoors. He’s not just selling stoves. He’s selling a lifestyle: one that’s slower, promotes a less-is-more ethos, and encourages a simpler, more authentic experience of nature. I buy his gear and try to use it the way I see him use it. I buy into what I see as the Firebox philosophy, a life-altering Weltanschauung. If I follow his simple instructions and use his gear, I will become happier. Calmer. More Steve-like.

My fascination with Steve is a source of endless ribbing from my family, not without justification. In the car or at dinner, I interject an observation of Steve’s that I consider on point; eyes roll. They are over it. Lately, I’ve been forced to admit that maybe my wife is right. The videos are like porn for me—an escape, a fake experience, a substitute for life. 

The solution seems obvious. I need the real thing.

Driving south from Salt Lake City, I’m nervous about meeting Steve in person. 

He lives in Utah’s Sanpete Valley, an agricultural swath between the San Pitch mountains to the west and the Wasatch Plateau to the east. The landscape is studded with scores of long white barns. Turns out they’re packed with turkeys. This part of Utah isn’t just Firebox Steve country. It’s also the turkey-ranching capital of the state.

I’ve brought a fly rod, waders, and not much else. The plan is to head for the mountains and go camping. “I really want to catch a fish and cook it for you,” Steve texted me just before I left. “That’s the iconic Firebox meal.” 

All this time, I’d been thinking of Steve as a brawny Paul Bunyan with a frying pan. But when we shake hands outside his house soon after I pull up, I discover that he’s no bigger than I am—which is to say, average. I also imagined Steve as the strong, silent type, someone Sam Shepard might have played. Instead, I find myself facing a garrulous, funny, slightly frazzled 51-year-old in a plaid shirt and sandals, trying to feed a bottle of milk to a baby goat. He and his wife, Jessica, share their split-level house with his father, three kids, four cats, two dogs, assorted chickens, and two goats. 

The goats are an interesting addition. Steve has to find new gimmicks to satisfy YouTube’s implacable algorithms, which require constant injections of fresh, attention-­grabbing content. Untested destinations, surprising meals, unexpected supporting characters, and goats—Steve tries them all. He recently posted videos filmed on a beach in Hawaii during a vacation with his wife. In 2018, he slow-roasted a hunk of beef for seven hours, and the video got 5.6 million views. Steve’s two dogs are audience favorites. His growing kids draw positive comments, as do his parenting skills. Now he’s training baby goats to join the troupe as pets and pack animals—and a new source of comic relief.

Steve loves to tinker, so his home has a Rube Goldberg vibe. He repurposed a bike shed into a goat stable; he turned one side of the house into a movie screen for cartoons, beamed from an outdoor video projector. His whole family roasts hot dogs in a fire pit made from the rusted remains of an industrial clothes dryer.

Steve is a former car mechanic and an unrepentant motorhead. For his automotively inclined followers, the videos feature various interesting vehicles that he collects and restores. I recognize the 1986 VW Vanagon in the driveway, along with the 2003 white Toyota Tundra. Both appear in his camping videos. I ask about the 1997 Toyota T100 with a diesel upgrade, a YouTube fan favorite. It’s in the shop.

Steve has joined the ranks of internet celebrities—he’s a figure who fans know intimately, or think they do. Encountering the trucks, the menagerie, the patient wife and towheaded kids—it’s like going to a New York diner and running into the cast of Seinfeld, strangely familiar and startling at the same time.

Earlier, when we were texting back and forth, the banter and conversation had come easily. Steve said this was one of the benefits of internet fame. “You can kind of see how we already have somewhat of a relationship because of you watching my videos. That’s how it is with the customers on my website. They already know me in a way. And I think of them as friends, because they are the ones making it all work.”

But fame can get a little weird. A cop recently pulled Steve over on an empty mountain road.

“You lost?” he asked.

“No,” Steve replied, wondering what on earth he’d done. “Why?” 

The cop confessed: He’d recognized Steve’s T100. He just wanted an excuse to say hi. “I’ve watched all your videos!” he blurted.

I know the feeling.

The next morning, Steve pulls up in the Tundra, loaded with fishing rods, hammocks, packs, sleeping pads, down quilts, camp chairs—two of everything, including the dogs, Ash and Juniper. Also, a large cooler, a backup battery power supply (just in case), a compressor (you never know), a string of lights, a rooftop tent (if we decide to stay with the truck), and a box packed with cooking gear. I load my stuff and we head south. Our goal is to find a cluster of three mountain lakes, unfamiliar to Steve, that a local fishing guide assured him are full of fish but not people.

Steve’s videos tend to alternate between austere, minimalist solo treks and rambunctious truck-camping expeditions with family and friends. Some of his more abstemious followers scoff at the luxuriousness of his car-camping style.

“They say, ‘You took all that gear out there? That’s not survival!’” he laughs, nudging away the dogs, who keep poking their noses into the front seat for a better view. “I’m a believer in comfy camping. I like to be comfortable! Some people believe you should go out there with nothing but your BVDs and a pocketknife.”

But when Steve takes the pared-down route—as he does in classics like and —he puts most ultralight campers to shame. He carries a Nano, an anodized Firebox pan, a five-foot spinning rod, a rain poncho that doubles as a tarp, and that’s pretty much it. He brings a bit of food but no water, just a filter. He doesn’t bother with a tent. The dog carries his own chow in a saddle pack.

“For some people, camping is all about the hiking,” Steve says. “They love the workout, they love pushing themselves, they love getting a lot of miles in every day. For me it’s the destination. And part of enjoying the place for me is cooking.”

Steve is a bit of a foodie, as is his wife. They both worked at a restaurant in Park City for several years. Good food around the fire, in his view, is an essential part of the camping experience. But cooking seriously good meals over an unruly campfire is difficult. Steve’s stoves, however, are versatile enough to make it possible, even for backpackers—and they fit with the leave-no-trace ethic of modern campers.

“Fire is the key,” he explains as we pass a sign for Fish Lake National Forest. “Have you ever sat around a fire with someone you’ve known for years, but this particular night you learn so much more about them and become so much closer as friends? People are more themselves when they’re camping. If you really want to get to know someone, go backpacking with them.”

I recently read Harvard anthropologist Richard Wrangham’s . He more or less argues the same thing. “We humans are the cooking apes,” Wrangham writes, “the creatures of the flame.” I’m not saying Steve should be teaching anthropology at Harvard. But he did figure this out on his own.

We found the lakes, but the fishing was tough, with the rainbows and cutthroats we saw ignoring nearly everything we put in front of them. We set up camp above the third lake, a deep pond protected by a steep slope of boulders and scree that poured down to the water’s edge. We descended unsteadily with the dogs, but the best spots remained out of reach, blocked by rocks or fallen trees. We managed only four small fish between us, just enough for dinner.

Talking over the course of the day, I learned how Steve came to be a successful inventor, a small-business owner, and a YouTube star. I’d come for wilderness therapy but got a crash course in retail economics, with a surprising dash of bitterness about the obstacles he’d encountered along the way. Despite the happy ending, Steve’s success was hard-won, and the setbacks still sting.

He hated school. “I was a horrible student,” he says. “I just wasn’t capable of paying attention to something I wasn’t interested in, and if I was interested in something, I couldn’t think of anything else.” His dad was a high school shop teacher, and his parents encouraged his creative impulses, even when others didn’t. “I always felt smart,” he says. “But I felt like everybody else thought I was stupid.”

As a teenager, Steve could take a lawn mower apart and put it back together. He discovered that he had a talent for clearly visualizing mechanical solutions in his head. “I immediately realized that this could be valuable to me,” he says. But he had no idea how.

When he was 15, he joined the Boy Scouts and loved when they went on fishing and camping trips in the mountains. His scoutmaster used a small wood-burning stove, one he’d made himself, and taught the boys how to clean and skin fresh-caught trout a certain way, the way Steve does it now. 

He skipped college and worked as a mechanic and construction laborer while trying to realize his dream of becoming an inventor. With no training in mechanical engineering, design, or programming, but an uncanny knack for making things, he created a new kind of bike rack, which he managed to license to Yakima, though it never went into production. Then he designed an adjustable trailer hitch, which he tried to manufacture and market himself. Young and ambitious, he borrowed money from his father, and the business failed.

For the next five years, Steve did restaurant work in Park City and snowboarded. But he also began looking at cooking and food prep as a new opportunity. He dreamed up elaborate decorative garnishes to accompany dishes, which helped earn him a promotion to sous chef.

He married, became a father, and launched more businesses—one produced designer sinks and other bathroom fixtures for high-end homes. Another involved growing herbs on an industrial scale to sell to restaurants. The decor company died ­during the housing crash in 2008, and the herb operation succumbed to back-to-back early frosts and a grasshopper infestation. 

Steve admits he’s always been “a worrier.” His trials and false starts took their toll not only on his confidence but on his nerves. His greatest strength is his commitment to hard work. His greatest vulnerability is a tendency to conceal his anxiety, allowing it to eat away at him. One virtue of repeated failure, though, was that he and his wife learned how to manage with less. “We drove cars with 250,000 miles on them,” he says. They were survivors.

He viewed the camping-stove business as his last chance, a final, desperate Hail Mary pass. He had nothing after that.

The original Firebox stove, which debuted in 2011, was a masterpiece of design ingenuity. Hinged at all four corners, it opened with a flip of the wrist. It was elegant and sturdy, and produced an amazing amount of heat with very little smoke.

At his house, he’d showed me the outdoor graveyard where his early prototypes all lay in a heap, rusted and blackened—a twisted-metal monument to trial and error. But it turned out that having a great product didn’t guarantee sales. In fact, it made them harder to come by, because higher quality meant higher costs and higher prices. Steve’s early partners envisioned something inexpensive that could be sold in Walmart to survivalists and preppers. They wanted to ship stoves by the thousands and pocket millions as soon as possible.

Steve’s first stove was not the cheap product they had envisioned. And his timing couldn’t have been worse: The launch coincided with the appearance of a new generation of lighter and more efficient gas stoves, produced and heavily marketed by companies like Jetboil and MSR. Americans preferred gas camp stoves anyway. Steve’s invention was always going to be a tough sell.

The partners quarreled. The tension exacerbated Steve’s anxiety. He was miserable. He dreaded going into the office. Finally, he bought out the last remaining partner and ran the company alone. “I had faith in it,” he says. “I really believed it was going to work.”

The problem remained, though: finding customers. Other companies had big budgets for advertising and packaging. Steve didn’t. He couldn’t get his stove into high-end retail stores, and it was too expensive for Walmart. 

So Steve did what he’d done his whole life: he found a work-around, a hack. Brick-and-mortar outlets may have had no space for him, but the internet had plenty. In 2011, Steve discovered YouTube and put up a few clumsy promotional videos. But it took a little longer for YouTube to discover Steve.

Watching Steve cook dinner is odd. I’d come to Utah to get a behind-the-scenes look at a Firebox Steve production, and now I’m a bit player in one of them. I feel like Buster Keaton in Sherlock Jr. when he jumps through the movie screen and ends up inside the silent film he’d been watching.

To shoot himself cooking, Steve uses his Samsung phone, a portable tripod, and a bulbous microphone. He rarely stops filming, which he says drives his wife nuts. He shoots the drive to the campsite. He shoots us fishing. He shoots himself making the entire dinner. He does so expertly, moving the tripod and changing the angle as the scene requires.

He didn’t do all this at first. His earliest videos are embarrassingly conventional, with Steve doing his best to deliver a standard pitch. Today he doesn’t seem to be hawking a product. He just is. Part of his secret sauce is that he hardly speaks. He learned this by watching other outdoor videos. “I could see that people were talking too much, which made me look at my videos more carefully. And while I do still have that urge to talk, and I do still talk, I end up cutting it out when I edit,” he says. “I’m like, ‘Gee, shut up dude. Just shut up.’”

As he prepares and cooks our fish, I recognize every aspect of the ritual—­building the fire, chopping the garlic and onion, sliding the dehydrated hash browns into the pan, adding a splash of water, layering on the skinned fillets, and then covering everything to fry and steam at the same time. 

After a while, I forget that he’s filming. He feeds a few more sticks into the stove. “In a sec, I’m gonna put water in here,” he says quietly. “The thermal mass will absorb all that heat.” I nod, but it’s hard to tell if he’s talking to me or the camera.

On YouTube and Instagram, it isn’t enough to put up a few good videos. You have to trigger the algorithms, which measure engagement and try to match content with a user’s past interests. The invisible rules put certain videos in front of users and bury others. To do that, you need something new every week, even every day. It’s relentless but effective.

And that’s the sum total of Steve’s sales strategy. Firebox Outdoors still has almost no marketing budget. Nearly all the stuff on his website—stoves, cutting boards, pots and pans, coffee-making gear, baking accessories, and dozens of other items—is shipped directly from his office-warehouse in Mount Pleasant, Utah. He doesn’t frequent retail shows, yet he sells all over the U.S. and world and has found robust markets in Japan and the Middle East. For now that’s enough.

His early partners wanted to grow the business quickly. But Steve is happy to go slow, keeping risk to a minimum. “I haven’t let go of living cheap,” he says. “I’m almost afraid of spending money. It feels dangerous.” His business goals remain modest: a decent living, financial security for his family, and a chance to enjoy the kind of outdoor life he’s known since he was a kid. That’s what drives him.

There’s a little Huck Finn in Steve, maybe a lot: the independent loner, the dropout. “I really value my freedom,” he says. After years of solitary toil and struggle, the Firebox stove turned his life around. His is not a macho success story. It’s a story of someone trying to live, protecting their own set of fragile values, and staying sane while doing it.

At the end of our time together, shortly before Steve dropped me at my motel, I asked one more question. My hands-down favorite video of his is a long, contemplative solo trip he took to a particularly beautiful spot in Utah’s Uinta Mountains—a lake at 11,000 feet, totally pristine, teeming with native brook trout. It’s a difficult overland drive followed by a long, exhausting hike. 

In the clip, Steve spends two magical days there, catching fish (and eating a few) while capturing the changing light on the mountains, the thick, palpable silences, and the incredible stillness of the lake as the sun rises. I’ve watched it many times. It’s what hooked me on Firebox videos. But I never bookmarked it on YouTube, and recently I couldn’t find it. So I asked him about it.

Steve explained what happened. It’s his favorite place in the whole world, and he knew it was as close as he’d ever get to a perfect Firebox video, but he learned that a group of overzealous fans had teamed up to try to pinpoint the location, using information gleaned from the video itself. He was afraid he’d inadvertently given away his secret spot. 

In one sense he was being selfish, but he also felt guilty. He didn’t want to be responsible for exposing a vulnerable, pristine site that couldn’t handle too many visitors. YouTube stars don’t usually take down their best videos. But Steve didn’t want to jeopardize a small, fragile part of his world, one he relied on for mental and creative sustenance. 

He took it down.

The post The Unlikely ASMR Hero of鈥� Camp Stoves? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Camp Chef Rainier 2X ($165)

A powder-coated lid and reinforced knobs made this the 颅hardiest stove we tested鈥攁nd听the heaviest. The combination grill and griddle on the left put a perfect crust on six burgers and was easy to clean, while the burner on the right capably handled simmering and boiling.

Primus Essential Trail ($25)

The Essential Trail delivers functional design at a low price. Weighing in at four ounces, it鈥檚 heavier than some stoves, but a 4.3-inch wingspan makes it conspicuously stable, even when bringing three liters of water to a boil.

Ignik 2-in-1 Heater-Stove ($140)

Testers had reservations about the real estate this combination stove and space heater re颅quired in the car. But when it became the focal point of a cold evening outside, everyone agreed that its utility went far beyond the powerful 10,000-BTU burner. Pair it with Ignik鈥檚 refillable Gas Growler ($150), which holds five times the fuel of a single-use propane canister.

Fireside Outdoor Pop-Up Fire Pit and Grill ($200)

Cooking over an open flame is one of the joys of camping, but it can be dangerous (and illegal) during summer months. This combo meets both Forest Service and BLM safety regulations and is easy to set up. The 3.5-square-foot cooking space handles up to 75 pounds of meat.

GSI Outdoors 颅Selkirk 540 ($125)

This is the best stove we tested when it came to feeding large groups. The 22-by-13-inch cooking top comfortably fit a 10.5-inch cast-iron skillet and an equally wide Dutch oven side by side, which made short work of bacon and pancakes for six.

Snow Peak Home and Camp ($110)

Snow Peak鈥檚 was the most elegant stove in our test. Closed up, the Home and Camp looks like a futuristic water bottle, but its single burner put out enough heat to sear a couple of steaks. Ample 5.9-inch cooking arms accommodated a 12-quart soup pot.

The post The Best Camp Stoves of 2020 appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.