My Love/Hate relationship with REI

I love/hate REI. I go back and forth between loving them and hating them pretty much constantly. Let me explain.

When I shop at REI, I buy good things. Useful, important things. Before traveling to Peru a few years ago, I bought a pair of Columbia brand zip-off pants that have been LIFE SAVERS in multiple situations. I wear them at home and abroad, in situations including mountainsides, hiking trails and temple ruins. I have worn them in front of friends, boyfriends and wild monkeys. Sometimes they are just the right thing. 

Before heading to Singapore, I stopped by my local REI (the flagship store in South Lake Union in Seattle) to pick up a few odds and ends. I needed a new Nalgene bottle, some packing cubes and a mini-messenger bag for toting guidebooks and water bottles through temples and city tours. I found everything I was looking for (granted, I had to get a purple water bottle, instead of hot pink like I wanted), used a gift card to help pay for it and went home happy. While touring around SE Asia, I've LOVED the bag I bought. It's a Keen bag, perfect size and shape: easily slings across the shoulder, holds a LOT of stuff without being too huge and has lots of internal compartments for organizing things. The inside liner is water/spill resistant and the outside fabric is water-resistant. This comes in handy when you end up on an accidental hike through Cambodia and get caught in the rain. 

The bag and me in Malaysia

The bag and me in Bangkok

The bag LOVED temples
in Cambodia.

But I hate going into the store.

I roll up into the REI wearing whatever I wore to the office that day - some variation on polo shirt with a khaki skirt and pearl earrings - or what I wore to walk Greenlake - Nike workout pants and a sorority t-shirt and pearl earrings - and I get dirty looks. All the granola-eating, bicycle-riding, mountain climbing Pacific Northwest nuts look at me like I dont belong in the REI cuz I'm wearing Sperrys and not flannel. The sales staff don't help me, the other shoppers get in my way and the whole experience just kinda sucks. By the time I leave the store, I am generally stressed out and upset and sweaty. It's just not that fun. I feel judged and want to walk around the store yelling, "I'm outdoorsy! I'm legit! I hike in South America AND Asia AND Snohomish County."
  
But they sell good stuff. That's quality, useful stuff.

For Christmas, my mom gave me an awesome jacket that she bought at REI in her town. But when I unwrapped the gift, we realized it still had the security tag on it, so we headed back to the store to get the tag removed. I was pleasantly surprised at how different my mom's REI was from the one in Seattle. The sales staff were super helpful, the customers chatted with each other, I got the security tag removed from my jacket and I ended up spending another $150 on some awesome stuff that was on sale. Thus, restoring my love of REI.

Maybe it's the PNW-ers who bug me (rain that makes people cranky)...or maybe Southerners are just nicer in general.....probably because of the access to Duke's Mayonnaise and Bojangle's fried chicken.

Maybe next time I go into the Seattle store, I'll just roll in wearing my "I survived Dead Woman's Pass" t-shirt and smear some mud on my zip-off pants to try to fit in. (I will, of course, refrain from telling them about the time I went camping and got there with my rain fly and tent stakes, but no tent.....) 

Zip-off pants, FTW. Again.

The  orange t-shirt, brown zip-off pants and offending bare legs.

The top level of Angkor Wat is still used as a temple and as such, there are guidelines you must adhere to before climbing the 50+ stairs (at a 40 degree incline) to get to the top temple. Women with uncovered legs and shoulders are not allowed up. It was 98 degrees and 95% humidity....clearly I was wearing shorts the day we visited the temple. But because of my aforementioned affinity for looking down on things from up high, we returned to Angkor Wat the next day (sans guide, with appropriate attire) for additional exploring. 

The view from the top

The view from the top

After contemplating several options for "appropriate attire" for the temple, including taking a scarf I bought in the city market and tying it sarong style around my waist, I opted for my hiking pants. Also known as my zip-off pants. These bad boys were once the object of my ridicule, but have more than once earned my love and praise. Peru, for example. Mountains of western Washington. And now, Cambodia. I donned my brown zip-off pants (sans legs) and an orange t-shirt and headed off the day. When we arrived at the stairs to the top of the ruins, I promptly zipped on some pant legs, got clearance to pass and viewed the top of the structure. It was awesome. I descended, removed said legs and went on about my way. There was no way I was wearing more clothes than absolutely necessary: it was 104 degrees Fahrenheit that day. I know this because the refrigerated truck vendor guy who sold us some bottle water read us the temperature off his meat thermometer. It was SO HOT he was reading air temperature on a MEAT THERMOMETER.

Once again, my zip-off pants have proven to be worth their weight in gold.

Me in the top of Angkor Wat

Zip-off pants ftw!

I'm planning a trip to Peru later this year, where 3 friends and I will be hiking the Incan trail through (and by "through" I mean "up and over") the Andes Mountains to the ruins at Machu Picchu. It's going to be awesome!

It all started a little over a year ago when a friend/co-worker returned from Peru raving about what a great trip it was. The seed was planted and over the next few months, the foursome was formed and the planning began. We found a trail guide group, bought plane tickets, hired sherpas to schlep our stuff up and down the mountain and began training for the hike.

After our first few "training" sessions, we were tan and had beautiful toenails, but were still feeling a little nervous about the upcoming hike. After a couple more training sessions, we figured out that in order to be serious about our training, we needed new outfits.

After hours of browsing (no, seriously...have you been to the Flagship REI? it's amazing we got out in hours, rather than days) and a few minutes of being judged, we picked out some things and headed to the register. Being noobs at this hard-core hiking thing, there was a fair amount of skepticism involved as we purchased backpacks, camel-bak bladders, moisture-wicking apparel and pants that have zippers just above the knee, so that they become shorts when you zip off the legs.

Normally, that's the type of fashion statement I would mock. However, when attempting hard-core hiking, the mantra, "Form Follows Function" definitely comes into play. And in our next training session, I learned that zip-off pants are actually magical. When I'm wearing my zip-off pants I turn from slightly prissy Southern girl from into totally BA hiker chick, who can kick your butt, the trail's butt and proudly display the designs of dirt and sweat covering her arms and legs.

Just like a good workout shoe should make you want to jump and run, apparently good zip-off pants make me want to hike. I bet if the Incans had had zip-off pants, they could have handled the Spaniards, np.

I love my zip-off pants!