mountain laurel designs trailstar - review

touring for a third of a year requires quite a bit more gear than a weekend trip, for sure. when going out for a night or two you can get away with all sorts of stuff that just won't fly when home is hundreds or thousands of miles away. everything must have a purpose, and even better, more than one purpose, so you must chose your gear wisely. the ability to do that really comes almost exclusively through personal experience, but often seeking reviews is the place to start.

getting a quality review of a piece of gear is often more difficult than it would seem. reviews on sites like REI or Amazon can be helpful but you have to consider the source. how long has it been used? in what conditions? what were the expectations? is the person reviewing qualified to make that review? i can't say how many times i've read a review online about a bike that says "i tested this in the parking lot, it's so fast!" this person has no business saying anything about that  bike. i want to read the review by the person that's used the product for at least a season, if not more. only then can the review be taken with any sort of credibility.

over the past four months i've gotten a lot of questions about the gear i've brought on my tour. i'd usually just toss out the name and say, "it's great", but i always had much more i could have said. when you spend all day every day interacting with more or less a few pieces of gear you get to know any strengths and weaknesses pretty well. i mean, really well. i was in the fortunate position to have to rely on my gear day in and day out, without fail. if something didn't work right, well enough, or at all it could be really bad news, depending on the item. so i had done my homework and i chose wisely, indeed. i hope that i can provide some helpful insights into the gear i brought.

sometimes the weather cooperates and you can just sleep out under the stars, which, as far as i'm concerned, is plan A. other times you can find a sturdy structure to camp under, like a gazebo or a bridge. still, other times you just need a shelter because you're in the middle of nowhere. maybe it's due to rain, wind, or mosquitoes or maybe you just don't like sleeping outside unprotected. no matter the reason, you need to have one with you.

Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstar on tour in the nebraskan sand hills

i chose the term shelter because it doesn't have to be a traditional tent. i personally brought along a Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstar tarp, and i couldn't have been more pleased. i had looked at a few one-person tents but often found that their specs made them too heavy or bulky in terms of volume. i would have made due with what i got, but this one came on recommendation from a friend with plenty of experience with it. it's also made in the USA, which is nice.

in the past i've used smaller tarps for single-night trips and i took one to nova scotia last year for a one-week tour. it was small and covered barely more than a hammock or a sleeping bag, so it would be terrible for heavy rains. for this tour i knew it would be probable that i'd run into some weather where i'd have to spend quite a lot more time under the tarp so i wanted something that was a bit bigger and sturdier. the Trailstar fit the criteria.

the footprint is a luxurious 50 sq.ft., which is plenty of room for whatever you may want to put under there. i often just had my sleeping bag and pad along with some a few other things like food or clothes which left ample extra space... not that i needed any more, it's just nice to have. they do recommend not cooking under this thing, but go on to say that it is large. i cooked in this thing pretty much every night and morning that i had it set up with no issues. plenty of ventilation and the ceiling is high enough to not be close to any flames. if you do that, though, just be smart about it.

10 miles east of the continental divide in wyoming.

a big footprint also means you have a ton of coverage from the elements, which is a very nice feeling when you can see some nasty clouds off in the distance headed your way. i've waited out several heavy rain storms, plenty of nights with drizzle, a few snow storms, and a few nights of excessively strong winds under the Trailstar and at no point did any precipitation find its way onto me or my stuff. nice. it does come with a tube of seem sealer, which you have to apply yourself. it's not much of an issue but it is something you ought to do before using it in rough weather.

going through many of the western states there is a lot of nothing and the wind can get pretty fierce. often, even if the temperatures permitted and there was no rain in the forecast, i set up the Trailstar just for wind protection. with its low pitch angle and 10 tie-out points it's super sturdy. if you button it to the ground and tighten it like a drum it will hold up to some serious winds. in a few places in nebraska and idaho the forecasts called for 25mph winds with gusts up to 50mph at night and, though the walls flapped quite a bit, it held up very respectably.

among the idaho sage brush. tripod as support.

now, it seems like it was designed for backpackers because you're supposed to use trekking poles to set it up, one in the middle and one for the doorway. but if you're bike touring trekking poles are not part of your gear list, so you'll have to find something else to use. branches can work, but only if you're around trees, so i suggest something more reliable that you carry with you. i ended up buying a $12 monopod from walmart for hunting and used that for the center support. i just put a cap nut on the end to protect the tarp and it worked great. for the doorway i often used my camera tripod, my bike, a found stick or a tree. i never had an issue with any method.

aluminum stakes are garbage.

packing it up was easy, just fold it in half a few times and roll it up. done. i had a separate small ditty bag for some stakes that i tossed in the stuffsack with the Trailstar so i didn't have to look for them when it came time to set up camp. side note: don't bother with aluminum stakes, they amount to garbage. just go ahead and pick up some steel stakes or get the stakes that have 3 blades to prevent them from bending. i started with 10 aluminum stakes and finished with none.

the inner bugnet set up solo using a guy line tied to a branch

now, being a tarp it is simply protects you from precipitation and wind, but not bugs. some places or seasons that won't be an issue, but during the summer it will be a big problem. MLD does make an optional inner bugnet, which i did use for the first half of the tour. for most of the first half i used the bugnet independently of the Trailstar, which is quite nice. during those hot and humid summer nights it's nice to sleep protected from mosquitoes but have a fully ventilated shelter. i often just slept on my sleeping pad with no bag. a good night's sleep is invaluable when you're on tour. after the bug season passed i ended up mailing the net home with some other stuff to free up some pannier space. for the first half though, it was one of the most-used, most-appreciated pieces of gear in my bag. once i get home to connecticut this will definitely get used more than the Trailstar.

high pitch for better ventilation

it does have to be said that the Trailstar can be a bit difficult to set up, at least at first. having 10 tie-out points there is a lot of ways to set it up and a lot of ways to have a wonky set up. it does take a bit of experimentation to find the right pitch for your needs. i usually had it set up in the standard configuration, but on occasion i had it set up as a teepee or just used a higher/lower pitch for wind or snow shedding. when it was still fairly hot out i set it up with the sides off the ground for better ventilation. this thing is versatile, to say the least.

the Trailstar did me well on this tour. i have no regrets with my choice. for me it worked perfectly, though, i can see for some people it just wouldn't be right. some people may just prefer the full enclose of a tent. being a tarp it does not have a bottom so you're just there in the dirt, and that may be a deal-breaker for some people. you could get the inner bugnet, but that's just another thing to set up. i, personally, don't mind at all, but it does expose you to stuff on the ground. if you need a shelter that will fit a few people, or one person and a bunch of stuff, are facing lots of rain, snow, or wind, the Trailstar might just be the ticket. MLD often has some lead times posted on the front page of their website. i think when i ordered mine it said 3-4 weeks but it arrived in under 2. sweet.

left coast.

with no fanfare or anyone to recognize the achievement, i quietly rolled my bike out onto the beach and let the waves roll in. three and a half months on the road has had it's official end. it's bitter sweet, for sure. a tour of this size fundamentally is a freedom we are not used to as adults. it will be 1/3 of a year by the time i get home that i will have had no schedule to live by. no place to be at the end of the day. no person i had to see. no thing i had to do. i just pointed my wheel west and rode until i didn't feel like it anymore. that's a nice feeling and i'd like to feel it again.

that's not to say that my ride is over, though. i still have some riding to do.

denouement.

i'm certainly touring late into the season, and i knew that i would be back when i first decided to do it. finances needed to be squared away to make it possible in the first place. when it came down to leaving late or putting it off another year, a late-season tour was the obvious choice. that meant i'd still be riding through the fall and i'd be at some much higher elevations by that point. i said i'd just deal with it when i got there.

so i'm there. and i'm dealing with it. nights are cold and getting colder. a few nights have hit single digits and have exceeded the rating of my sleeping bag. it's pretty miserable when you wake up at 3am and your face literally has ice on it and your feet ache from being so cold. there's not much more you can do that just wait it out until the sun comes up. luckily, that's only been a few times. for the most part nights have been a reasonable just-below freezing, which is perfect for sleeping.

sagebrush for miles and miles.

the downside to dealing with the colder temperatures is that i don't have a home or car to go back to after my ride... i live outside. if i'm cold all day and then it just gets colder at night, i'm just going to be cold. it's not pleasant, but you just deal with it. a few nights i've been able to have a fire but i've been burning sage brush, which burns like gasoline. you need an absurd amount just to keep a fire going for an hour or two so it's not terribly worth it.

one thing is for sure, though... the west is magical. it is everything i imagined it would be. it's huge. it's wild. it's beautiful. i'll be forever bound to the west in a way that the east cannot approach. just being completely removed from the rest of the world and existing purely in the expanses of the west has concretely carved itself a special place in my soul. after i've dipped my tires in the pacific and returned east to my home to sleep in my bed i'll be dreaming about sleeping in western dirt.

climax and falling action..

the past week and a half has been interesting, indeed. a little over a week and a half ago i left riverton, wy. and started heading into the mountains, which, are both literally and figuratively the climax of my tour. there is no phone service to be found and few towns with any resources so for the most part, you're on your own. by this point in my tour that type of isolation is familiar and actually quite comfortable. it's something that i'll miss when this is all over.

the landscape surprisingly looked very much south-westy in palette. orange and red rocks sprout from the ground and the land is relatively barren of trees. around every corner is another stretch of road with beautiful cliffs on either side. it did not wear thin. i could ride these roads over and over again.

the further i rode the more i could feel a change in elevation, though, there were no signs. my lungs were fine and i never went lactic but i just could not generate any power whatsoever. it was low-gear all the way, which made for some slow miles.

going up in elevation definitely means a change in weather. i had found a spot on the side of the road that looked good for a campsite and decided to call it a night. not having service i had no idea what the weather was going to do so i just prepare for the worst. i pitched my tarp, buttoned it to the ground and tightened it like a drum. i brought everything inside i might need and called it a night. during the night the winds whipped up and started dumping rain in spurts. by morning it had changed to ice. preparing for the worst paid off for sure this night.

just after sunrise the clouds broke and let a little light through, and man oh man, light just doesn't happen like this at sea level, for sure. i had just enough time to get out, grab some more food from the bike and enjoy the contrasty light. the clouds closed up and the precipitation started up again. all you can do is tighten the guy lines and get back into your sleeping bag and just wait. sometime around 1 o'clock the weather lightened up and it was time to make some distance. a quick pack job and i was on my way.

while climbing through the shoshone national forest i came across a campground and decided to call it a night. i wasn't going any further that night and having a campsite would be nice seeing as though i was definitely in bear country at that point... not that that would really have any affect on a bear, it just made me feel a bit better. while setting up my tarp a guy from the one other campsite being occupied walked over and offered me to join him and his family in their camper for some dinner. absolutely i would. dinner, snacks, coffee, and fresh cranberries from their farm in wisconsin were had. afterwards i head back to my site and set up my tarp. again, prepare for the worst. i awoke to a winter wonderland. i heard a voice calling through the trees, "breakfast is ready... so is your coffee". well, you can't say "no"  to that.

when they had packed up and were on their way out of the park the stopped by and offered to drive me in to jackson hole. i declined, i had ridden this far and had to continue on my own two wheels. they wished me luck and drove off leaving me in the snow cave that had become of my tarp. around mid-day the weather broke and the sun came out. it was time to get moving. up through the mountains i rode.

the higher i went the grayer and colder it got. when you get to that point there is no turning back, you just have to go up and over. not having access to any data i had no idea how far "over" was just that it was somewhere up there and i needed to get there. continuing in my bottom gear i crept on. it was getting bitter cold and my pedals were icing up almost immediately. i had to stop and scrape the ice off with my multi-tool every twenty minutes or so. stopping for any length of time was bad news. freezing cold would stab its way in at every opportunity.

grinding on with no idea how far i had to go i looked up and saw a sign. a good sign. the continental divide sign. 9584 feet. then another good sign "6% grade next 17 miles". although crossing the divide was literally the high point of my tour, the second sign was perhaps even better. it was time to lose some elevation, and fast. but first, i needed to put some socks over my gloves... i was a bit under prepared. 

coming down from the pass the snow quickly disappeared. this was a good sign, though still cold. i stopped at the first campground i came by and called it a day. i was beat and i deserved a good sleep. the campsite was right next to a ranger station and i struck up a conversation with one of them. "do you have bear spray?' he asked... i did not. he popped back into the station and gave me a bottle and said, "i could save your life". all that means is i was not going to have a good sleep that night. don't get me wrong, i was glad to have it, but, dammit.

it was a cold night. very cold. a sturdy layer of frost covered everything and all of my water was frozen solid. i packed up as fast as i could, being painfully cold, and got on my way. still riding slightly downhill the wind burned my eyes... it made looking at the wild buffalo off in the distance difficult. even if they're blurry their size is quite clear.

now, here is where things get interesting. i pulled off on the side of the road to get a good look at the tetons and there was a guy there sitting in his car near by. "not a bad sight, eh?" he said and we struck up a conversation. he invited me to go hunting in the teton wilderness on horseback the day after next and i said "yes, absolutely" are you kidding me? people pay thousands of dollars for this experience and i just happened to meet the right guy. awesome. this is what my tour is all about. we head back to his cabin a few miles away and got the fire going. it ceases to amazes me how friendly people are outside of the northeast.

the next day we drove around, got coffee, talked to people he knows in the area and just talked about everything late into the night. the following day we head out into the backcountry. i should mention that this was my first time on a horse. not a bad way learn how to ride, right?

we got lucky. very lucky. about an hour into the ride he had spotted what would become our dinner. he dismounted, aimed, and fired. now, remember how i said this was my first time on a horse? right, well at the gunshot the horses bolted, mine with me on it. they all took off back down the trail and i could not get my horse to stop so my only job was to stay in the saddle. trees, branches, fallen trees, rocks and dirt flew past as i juggled between trying to get control of the horse and bracing for an unwanted dismount into any of those obstacles. i managed to bring him to a stop and immediately hopped out of the saddle in case he decided he had some more running to do. that was an exciting minute, for sure. that night i had the most mind-blowing steak ever.

after a few days of insane hospitality i bid my host farewell and set off hoping to get ahead of some snow coming in the next day or so. my time in the tetons has been unforgettable but it was time to get going. weather waits for no one and i still had about 1000 miles to seattle. a day riding towards jackson hole downhill into a stiff headwind and having to work for it is enough to demoralize the fittest tourer out there.

keeping an eye on the weather i did what i could to get ahead while trying to stay dry. sometimes there's nothing to do but seek shelter and wait it out. unfortunately, this day i'd still get caught in some downpours and get soaked. cold and wet is a bad combination and all i could do was motor on to stay just warm enough. i spent the night in a luxurious gazebo that had electricity so i was able to charge my phone and get a good night of sleep.

i'm into idaho now and still have damp clothes. nothing dries at 37 degrees, especially if the sun hasn't shone in over a week. there's not much i can do about that but keep moving. it's getting late in the season and i have places to be. the last time i checked i'm about 800 miles from seattle. there is an end in sight, for better or worse, but i'm not there yet. i still have some riding to do.