carry-on vs checking

[Robert Spenger]

The question of carry-on vs checking brings back unpleasant memories
for me. On my first trip I was overly concerned about ending up in
Paris with my luggage in Timbuktu. I very carefully shopped for a pack,
small enough to meet the prescribed airline designations, and, so I
thought, large enough to fit me. I did not bring a walking staff,
knife, or water containers, intending to get those in Paris at Le Vieux
Campeur. My first shock was finding out that LVC was not one big
warehouse type type camping supermarket like REI, but a dozen or more
specialty stores scattered all over the Latin Quarter. I did have one
day scheduled in Paris, so I managed get around to the ones I needed.
The knife (Swiss Army type) was no problem. I never did see a walking
stick that fit what I had in mind (like an alpenstock), but I
eventually found suitable sticks along side the road in Provence and
Gard. The water bottles were a disaster. I didn't trust the lightweight
plastic bladder type and ended up with two square, heavy plastic liter
bottles and an extra small pack to carry them in. Having that pack tied
onto my regular one was a real nuisance.

The system worked more or less, but my back, with its worthless fifth
lumbar disk, was giving me problems. By the time I got to Toulouse, I
realized that the carry-on size pack was just too short for my frame.
There was too much of the weight on my shoulders and I couldn't
transfer enough of it to the waist strap. Fortunately, Toulouse did
have the kind of store I needed - a branch of the Decathlon sporting
goods stores, which carry a large stock of camping supplies along with
stuff for all sorts of sports. I found a pack there that seemed fine
and was only a little over half the cost of my old pack. I bought it
and took it back to my room at the youth hostel and tried to pack it.
It was a good sized pack, 50 liters. Many members would claim that it
was far too big, but with those bulky water bottles, I couldn't get
stuff all packed away conveniently. The next day was Sunday and the
Decathlon would not be open, so I couldn't exchange it. Also, the post
office would be closed, so I couldn't mail the old pack home. The new
pack was adjustable and had been properly fitted to me by the helpful
store clerk, I had more weight now with two packs to carry, but most of
the weight was now on my hips and the pack rode comfortably. It was a
vast improvement except that I still had stuff tied on the outside.

I spent Sunday night at a gîte on a farm near L'Ilse Jourdain, but on
Monday I arrived at Gimont, a sizable town which could be expected to
have a post office. Le Poste? Oui, monsieur, but it will not be open
today. Today everyone is celebrating the big holiday. May 8 - I don't
know what it is called in Europe, but we called it VE-day. Sure it was
great. To us it meant that our friends and relatives would be coming
back from Europe, but at that time I was stationed at Clovis Army Air
Force Base in New Mexico in a B-29 group that was getting ready for
deployment to Okinawa to attend to some unfinished business in the
Eastern Pacific. As a result, VE-day never loomed that large on my
horizon. On Tuesday, I left the hotel in Gimont too early to go to the
post office there, but was fairly sure to make it to the city of Auch
with time to spare. Shortly before I got into Auch, a thunderstorm
caught up with me and I took shelter next to an automobile service
garage that has a large open area covered by a corrugated iron roof. I
was well sheltered from the heavy rainfall, but the noise of it on that
roof almost drowned out the sound of the thunder. The rain eased off a
bit after a while, so I decided to give it another try. That was the
first time that I tried to put my parka on over my pack. I finally
succeeded, but the gusty wind of the storm almost defeated my efforts.
I didn't have leggings on that trip, so I had my pant legs rolled up
underneath the parka to keep them reasonably dry.

Out in the lighter rainfall, it wasn't too bad and I was making
reasonable progress getting close to the outskirts of Auch. It was then
that a St. James moment occurred. I was still out in the open country,
but lo and behold here was a full size Decathlon outlet right along
side the road. Fortunately, there was an English-speaking clerk, even
though this was not exactly tourist territory, and I made haste to
explain my predicament. No problem! They had a 60 liter version of my
Quecha pack and were quite willing to make the exchange, charging me
only the small difference in price between the two packs. I also had
the chance to buy a couple of other items, like extra straps and a
spare buckle. It was still raining outside, so, with their permission,
there I was with all my possessions spread out on the floor at one end
of the area between the checkout stands and the front doors.
Fortunately the store was not crowded and there was plenty of open
floor space for my repacking operation. There was plenty of
embarrassment on my part to be sure, but you just do what you have to
do and no one paid much attention to it all.

This time I got all decked out, pack, parka and all, on the inside, so
I didn't have to fight the wind. Then it was on into the city with only
bare legs showing beneath the parka. I don't know what the good
citizens of Gascony thought, but their expressions were not
encouraging. They were helpful, however, and I eventually made it to
the post office to get rid of the load. Whoa! Over 60 dollars U.S. to
send the old pack home? No way! It had cost about $110 at REI; the 50
liter Quechua was just about half that price and the 60 liter was just
ten dollars more than the 50. I had no real use for the old pack at
home, so I wasn't about to spend $60 just to keep it. I didn't have the
heart to just toss it and I had no idea where I could find some one who
would appreciate it. The upshot of all this was that I carried that
blasted pack another five days until I got to Pau where I palmed it off
on a family that I stayed with for one night. They had all the camping
and sporting gear that they needed, but they promised to find a good
home for my discarded pack and a couple of other unneeded items.

That was my first trip - and I learned a lot. Mainly, that a backpack
big enough to fit me will not pass as carry-on luggage. I also learned
adjustable packs were available and that the French had packs, designed
in university engineering departments, that were much better and
cheaper than what I had initially seen at REI. I am sure that REI
design has improved a lot since then.

regards,

Bob Spenger