The Tale of the 10€ Rain Jacket

Man, I can pack a mean bag. I've got the skills and the foresight to anticipate every little thing that can go wrong during a trip and prepare for it above and beyond what most would consider adequate. This cockalorum came crashing down last month when I packed for a 3-week bike trip in the Alps and the Cote d'Azur.

It's a delicate waltz of too much and not enough. The information you have to work with is scarce: trails unknown, weather unpredictable. One certainty is that the airlines have hard stops on how much crap you can bring with you and that you will pay through the nose for the privilege of bringing anything extra. All while the massive fella sitting next to you pays about the same for the international flight you are on. Remember when KLM tried basing their fares on passenger and luggage weight? What a PR shitshow that was.

While that's not why we are gathered here today, we should acknowledge the way humans participate in air travel these days. I don't like the way it brings out the worst in us at the gate and during boarding, but also when fighting for the seemingly infinite overhead bins that fill up in the blink of an eye with 50lb "carry-on" bags.

Let me be the first to admit to being a repeat offender of overfilling my carry-on. While I only bite off what I can chew and bring the essentials, I seem to be chasing affordable flight options which don't give me much margin for error when catching connecting flights. Carry-on primary travel helps speed things up at the airports. For my recent European trip, bringing our bikes along meant some relief from carry-on bag heft. An Evoc Pro Bike Bag and a glossy vinyl BCBR duffel bag (accurately named the "body bag" by our shuttle driver Andy, who also shot the photo above), were checked in the belly of the plane, bursting with clothing and spare parts.

Overpacking is essential when anticipating limited access to laundry. Sure, you can handwash your shorts, but if they have no time to dry, you'll just be spoiling your clean clothes with the fumes. It's a tough one, I tell you.

But hey, we were heading to the Southern Alps! The weather should be nice.

The reality is that while we have reportedly helped the ozone layer start repairing itself, we have otherwise fucked the global weather patterns to be worthy of smut movie titles like Atmospheric River and Heat Dome. I brought along quite a few pairs of riding pants and merino layers with me on this trip. The optimist in me had to toss in a pair of shorts in anticipation of decent weather but I suspected their use would be minimal.

Please, Tell Me About the Fucking Golf Shoes

With the weather looking less than ideal for a stroll in the Alps along the French-Italian frontier, the genius behind the keyboard realized that he had forgotten to pack an important piece of gear: the rain jacket. Hiding my shame and bottling up the consequences of my neglect was eating at me. Luckily we arrived in the EU a couple of days ahead of schedule in case of potential air travel mishaps, so I had time to shop.

I have the stuff at home, so I didn't need to buy an expensive garment at full price. I reluctantly walked through the doors of Decathlon in Gap, France. It was a sunny and warm day but the rain was coming, quite possibly with enthusiasm. I've been in Decathlons before and while there are some affordable options, the quality of the garments I've seen leaves a lot to be desired.

To my utter disbelief, a 10 EUR tag was staring back at me in the form of a garbage bag. Hey, beggars can't be choosers. I grabbed one off the hook faster than you can say "regret." I was hoping I would never have to use the damn thing which is why I cheaped out. I think you know where this is going.

When the rains came, they came down with intention. French people were being evacuated after downpours the likes of which haven't been seen in 160 years. While the rest of the Canadian contingent was comfortable in their 7Mesh Copilot jackets, I had the trusty Decathlon Quechua to keep me dry. What I didn't realize at the time was that it was better to be clean than dry. Being able to rip a layer off and hose it down with the bike without much emotional attachment to the fabric was freeing. There is solid value in a less stressful clean up.

There were accommodations of varying qualities on this trip, some better-equipped to handle 30 dirty mountain bikers than others. Most had towel warmers in the bathrooms though, which turn out to be ideal gear dryers. If this trip was tent-based, I would have pulled the plug on night two.

The rain jacket has no features. It is featureless but not futureless. The chest pocket is deep and good for a couple of snacks or glasses and it doubles as a stuff sac. All packed away, the jacket is about the size of an A5 notebook. While it may be a stretch to imagine cramming it into a hip pack, it lived in the bottom of my backpack the whole trip. Moist shuttle day? No problem, just bring it along! There is some pedalling involved? Sure, wear your vest on the climb and toss the jacket on for the descents. You can strap it to your handlebars with a ski strap. Maybe going digging and doing trail work in the rain? Oh yea! You cannot trash this glorified trash bag. Whatever mess you are dealing with, the Decathlon 10 EUR jacket has a purpose. Except for looking good, and letting your skin breathe. Those would be features, and this jacket had none.

While I may be the kind of guy who remembers to bring every single bearing for 2 bikes, a spare AXS derailleur, spare hardware for the frames, brake pads, batteries, cables, levers and a nice spread of tools for a trip like this, I am also the kind who forgets an important piece of equipment and barely gets away with it. I didn't need any of the spares I brought on this trip however. NOT A SINGLE ONE!

But I needed the one thing I didn't bring. I can't fix my obsessive over-prepared bike-managing brain, but I can learn to accept that I will forget some things when I pack, and the bikes I meticulously maintained leading up to the trip will be just fine. And if they are not, I'll take the next train to a sunny beach to hang out while the rest of the group blow their legs out in the thin air.

Have you ever had an "almost free" piece of equipment appear out of nowhere to save the day?

Decathlon 1/2 Zip Rain Jacket