Motorcycle Jackets, Spring 2009
Transcription
Motorcycle Jackets, Spring 2009
70 Great Expectations The quest for the perfect adventure motorcycle jacket Story and photography by Jonathan Hanson Overland Journal Spring 2009 T hink of what happens when you climb aboard an adventure motorcycle on a cold, but not bitterly cold, morning—let’s say 35°F—in a light drizzle. You’ve got a stretch of two-lane highway to cover this morning before hitting the dirt section of your route, so you accelerate up to a comfortable 55 mph. Comfortable? Not quite. The wind chill factor at that speed reduces the apparent temperature to 18°F, and that light drizzle is now a stinging barrage of needle-like jets doing its best to penetrate every stitch of your outerwear. You’ve essentially created the conditions that might be experienced by an alpine climber, and you need similar protection to stay dry and warm. Yet later the very same day, especially if you live in a climate similar to mine in southern Arizona, or are traveling through country with large elevation changes, you might find yourself riding under brilliant 90° sunshine. What then? Strip to baggy shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops, like those 18-year-old squids you see doing wheelies on 160-horsepower Ninjas? Not likely, because, unlike them, you are aware of your mortality, and of the possibility, nay, inevitability, that sooner or later you’re going to come off that bike—probably on a low-speed trail maneuver that will result in a solid thump and perhaps a short skid, but just possibly on a fast stretch of pavement when someone dialing a cell phone pulls out in front of you and you lay it down at 50 mph. So motorcycle outerwear must combine several mutually exclusive characteristics: water resistance, flow-through air cooling, warmth, and skid (abrasion) and impact (armor) protection, at a reasonable weight and cost. And, if possible, all-round, all-day comfort. Dare we even mention style? A tall order. I concentrated on jackets in this review, since pants from each manufacturer generally follow the same approaches and use similar materials and technology. Any of the jackets here could be augmented with an electric vest for added cold-weather performance; however, I made them perform on their own. Most of these came standard with a zip-in inner jacket. For decades, leather was the standard in motorcycle outerwear, and for good reason. Even now, it’s debatable whether the best synthetics can match high-quality leather for abrasion-resistance. Most motorcycle racing suits are still largely leather (although racing crashes typically involve different dynamics than road crashes—high speed but low impact). My first motorcycle jacket was a rigid, surplus horsehide flight jacket; I probably could have been dragged my entire 20-mile commute in it with no ill effects. But leather, while it can be made very waterresistant, is extremely difficult to make both water resistant and wellventilated. So most all-around touring jackets these days are fabric of one combination or another. Fortunately, modern synthetic (and even natural) fabrics can be made remarkably abrasion-resistant, although one good pavement slide usually does it in for that section of fabric. Designers take one of two approaches to the conundrum of warmweather ventilation versus cold weather wind and rain protection. One is to make the outer, abrasion-resistant and armored shell from breathable fabric with big ventilation slots—or even from mesh—and add a removable inner shell of waterproof/windproof/insulative material. The other is to make the outer protective shell waterproof, and rely on clever arrangements of covered vents to let in cooling air when you want it while hopefully excluding drafts and rain when closed. The former arrangement works well in that the outer garment can be as breezy as you like. But since it is water-permeable, it can become very sodden with absorbed moisture in a downpour, even though you might be dry inside the liner. The latter approach keeps water out right from the start, but is difficult to ventilate since every opening is a potential leak point. (Keep in mind that even a Gore-Tex shell will eventually absorb some moisture in the weave of the fabric, since the laminate is on the inside.) As you’d expect, in general the breathable/ventilated/ mesh outer shell with waterproof inner is more comfortable for predominantly dry, warm-weather riding; the weatherproof outer shell is superior for colder/wetter riding. On a round-the-world, Sahara to Himalaya to Amazon excursion you’ll have to choose which compromise you think will give you the best all-around comfort. Armor presents another set of mutually exclusive goals. Armor should provide impact absorption (cushioning and dissipation) first, and, if possible, additional abrasion protection, while not hindering movement or air flow. Advancements in materials, and developments in laminating different materials, have produced armor that retains adequate impact protection while reducing thickness and increasing ventilation. As with everything else, you get what you pay for. You can buy inexpensive armor that is effective but bulky, stiff, and hot, or expensive armor that is effective but light, flexible, and well-ventilated. (Beware really inexpensive “armor” that is nothing but squishy foam padding or, worse, hard plastic. If possible, take it out of the jacket and look at it.) Right now, the only commonly accepted certification for armor is the European CE (Conformité Européenne) EN-1621 standard, which involves laboratory testing with a five-kilogram impact device. If the armor in your jacket is CE certified, you can be assured it’s reasonable stuff (although the test reveals nothing about abrasion resistance). If not, it still could be effective armor, since many American companies don’t bother with the certification; however, you’re then relying more heavily on the manufacturer’s reputation. Also, the CE armor certification only tests the armor itself, not how it’s sewn into the jacket to stay in place in a crash. And, of course, the rating has nothing to do with comfort. Fortunately I didn’t have the opportunity to crash test any of these jackets. Range of comfort testing was easier, because early spring in southern Arizona means chilly mornings and warm afternoons. However, one day of measly drizzle was not enough to objectively evaluate rain protection, so I came up with a set of impromptu laboratory test dummies that, if I may say so, worked brilliantly: cardboard silhouette targets. I dressed each jacket in one, blocked off the neck, then blasted it with a hose for a few minutes. The cardboard instantly revealed the location and extent of any leaking. Here are six jackets, narrowed from a field of nine, that address valiantly that farrago of contradictory features demanded of a good motorcycle jacket. Each has its strengths and compromises, and I would happily own any of them for at least one reason, some for more. However, if you were hoping to read here about a crash-proof jacket cool in 100° weather that’s also rainproof and toasty at 20°, soft as an old cashmere sweater, weighs 20 ounces, and is as handsome as a waxed-cotton Barbour—well, I can help you with the Barbour. Otherwise, you’ll have your own decisions to make, based on your own priorities. Overland Journal Spring 2009 71 72 Clockwise from top left: Is it a motorcycle jacket, or a ski parka? Yes. Gore-Tex weather protection and impeccable seam-taping. Glove-friendly zipper pulls and plenty of reflective material. The Darien’s shoulder armor: shock-absorbing but bulky. The Darien’s hem drawstring Velcroes out of the way so it won’t flap. Overland Journal Spring 2009 Aerostich Darien Light R emember the old Saturday Night Live skit where the aerosol can of foam turns out to be both a dessert topping and a floor polish? The Darien Light fits the same mold. It’s an armored motorcycle jacket and a handsome urban foul-weather jacket all in one. When you think about it, that makes perfect sense if you’re on an extended bike trip and don’t have room for frivolous clothing, yet don’t want to look and feel like a linebacker when you walk down to a restaurant for dinner. The Darien Light’s armor—elbows, shoulders, and (optional) back—is completely modular, enclosed in individual nylon envelopes that Velcro into place and peel out in seconds. Remove it all and you have a lightweight shell that could pass for, and indeed function as, a trim ski parka. The U.S.-made DL’s three-layer Gore-Tex construction, backed up with what appears to be about a quarter-mile of flawless seam taping on the inside, is waterproof, period. I couldn’t make it leak, despite the eight-inch long pitzips and even longer horizontal back vent, which ram plenty of air though the jacket on warm days. In terms of laminate breathability, the current generation Gore-Tex is very good, although not as good as some competitors such as eVent. One of the main reasons to choose Gore-Tex is the company’s strict standard for construction, to which manufacturers using the product must adhere. The spray performance of the Darien Light is evidence for the effectiveness of this protocol. The main zipper has a double Velcro flap that completely blocks both water and wind—and of course Gore-Tex itself is impermeable to moving air, even if you’re moving through that air at 75 mph. Unfortunately Aerostich did not send me the inner jacket, so I couldn’t evaluate its contribution to the warmth of the entire system. Even so, for all its “Light” designation (it weighs just 3 pounds, 12 ounces, scarcely more than the non-armored Barbour), the Darien Light offers plenty of versatility and comfort for changing weather conditions. However, as light and comfortable as the jacket is, its TF3 armor isn’t. Not that it’s uncomfortable, but I certainly never forgot it was $387, or $527 with inner jacket (USA) there, especially around the shoulders. The inserts comprise very thick (.625-inch) and wide closed-cell viscoelastic foam, with a partial harder shell over that. Despite a couple of long rides, the inserts never molded themselves to my contours, always sticking out around my shoulders and elbows like football padding. Given the minimalist approach Aerostich has taken with the Darien Light, I think the armor inserts could be made smaller in circumference to decrease bulk. The armor at least gives the impression it would absorb a lot of energy in a crash— viscoelastic foam feels squishy between your fingers but resists sharp impacts. Although the armor is not CE certified, Aerostich told me the center section under the hard shell actually exceeded CE specifications when tested. That hardened armor is probably a good idea, given the very lightweight, 200-denier Cordura material on this jacket. Generally, 500-denier Cordura (employed in the standard Darien) is considered a minimum for reliable abrasion protection in a motorcycle jacket. Aerostich is up-front about this—the Darien Light owner’s guide is one of the most honest you’ll find, and includes this fascinating tidbit: “ . . . Cordura is more slippery than leather, so in a crash you will slide slightly farther, but roll and tumble less.” So choose the Darien Light with due consideration. If most of your riding is on dirt roads at slower speeds, you should be fine. If you do a lot of high-speed tarmac riding, consider the whole-milk Darien. Nice touches abound on the DL, from fat zipper pulls easy to manipulate with gloves on, to bright reflective patches front, side, and back, to the little loop that keeps the neck closure tab from flapping when it’s not closed all the way. Aerostich maintains a comprehensive repair facility for all their garments should you take a spill. In addition, when ordering a new jacket you can specify custom alterations such as different sleeve lengths, special gusseting, and extra pockets. That kind of service is hard to come by in these days of disposable, mass-produced goods. aerostich. com, 800-222-1994 Overland Journal Spring 2009 73 Firstgear TPG Rainier F 74 $400 (Vietnam) irstgear has been making motorcycle clothing for years, first as a respected high-quality brand, then as a somewhat dodgy prospect when numerous changes of ownership resulted in oscillating quality control. Now the motorcycle equipment distributor Tucker Rocky owns the company, and seems to have restored the quality and direction with an infusion of cash and new designs. The TPG (Technical Performance Gear) Rainier puts both weather and crash protection right out front. The shell is 600-denier Cordura, a step up from the accepted minimum 500-denier. Kevlar reinforcements line the shoulders and elbows, adding to tear resistance in those high-stress areas. The shell is waterproofed with a breathable polyurethane interior coating referred to by Firstgear as Hypertex. (Fortunately, the company didn’t prevaricate when I asked what Hypertex actually was. It can be like pulling fingernails to get a maker to admit that behind a zooty trade name is a perfectly common material.) Inside that is a free-hanging liner of loosely-woven polyester, which protects the coating from abrasion and helps dissipate perspiration so it can more readily evaporate through the microscopic pores in the coating and outer fabric. Shoulders and elbows in the Rainier are protected with Knox CEapproved armor that is exceptionally well-formed and articulated. I found this jacket second only to the Rukka in terms of the inconspicuous presence of its armor. The back armor is also comfortable, but it’s a much more rudimentary pad of some thin, perforated closedcell foam, apparently a non-CE material. Combined with the aboveaverage-weight Cordura shell and Kevlar reinforcements, the Rainier should provide excellent crash protection. Despite that, it’s the secondlightest armored jacket in this group at 4 pounds, 6 ounces. The DWR (Durable Water-repellent) coating on the outside of the Rainier’s shell beaded up virtually all the water from my hose test, and the polyurethane interior coating successfully repelled the rest. All four of the Rainier’s exterior pockets proved hoseproof. Two shoulder vents leaked a few drops under intense spraying, but the double main zipper flap shrugged off my most forceful squirting. Those vents com- Overland Journal Spring 2009 bine with dual back vents to provide good flow-through air movement on warm days. Two elastic drawstrings inside the shell can be pulled to lock open the front vents; however, you must undo the main zipper to do this, so it was a tossup whether this or the fiddly external Velcro arrangement of the Fieldsheer was more convenient (the Fieldsheer’s back vent can also be Velcroed open). Firstgear’s website says the front vents are 10 inches long and the rear ones 12; I measured a considerably shorter seven and eight inches—curious. In any case they work very well. One more weatherproofing feature is worthy of note. The Rainier’s collar incorporates a rolled hood that can unfurl and fit over your head under the helmet, to prevent water dripping down your neck from the helmet. It works, too—however, speaking personally I found the thing so confining and claustrophobic that I decided I preferred the drips. You might feel differently. Left rolled, it doesn’t intrude, and adds a bit of insulation. The Rainier’s inner jacket is a polyester soft-shell design as nice as those I’ve seen offered on their own from famous mountaineering equipment suppliers. It sports weatherproof zippers, three outside pockets and two on the inside, and a fleece-like inner surface; it can be worn on its own with absolutely nothing to give away the fact that it’s designed as motorcycling gear. Under the exterior shell it seemed to add a good 15 to 20 degrees to the lower temperature capability of the system. Firstgear’s three-layer TPG system is touted by the company as revolutionary, but honestly I didn’t find anything to justify that adjective. Each of the three layers (the innermost being an optional wicking base layer) is made from high-quality but perfectly ordinary materials, and similar combinations are available from most cycle clothing makers. Advertising hyperbole aside, the Rainier is a well-made two-layer jacket system that can be augmented with its own base layer, or used with your own preference in next-to-skin garments. Either way it’s a good choice, and I’d give it serious consideration as top choice if I rode a lot in rainy conditions. firstgear-usa.com, 866-302-5676 75 Clockwise from top left: Everything on the Rainier is weatherproof: shell material, pockets, and zippers. Closed, the vents are blocked by weatherproof zippers. An internal toggle holds open the shoulder vents. An inner jacket that stands on its own. The fleece-lined collar Velcroes closed easily with gloves on. Shoulder armor, second only to the Rukka for inconspicuous comfort Overland Journal Spring 2009 76 Clockwise from top left: Classic styling and effective weather protection are hallmarks of the Barbour International. The inimitable Royal Warrants; somehow, a “Presidential Warrant” on a U.S.-made jacket just wouldn’t be the same. Soft corduroy lines the Barbour’s buckle-closed collar. The International’s hardware: solid brass. Fold-over tunnel pockets help keep contents dry. Overland Journal Spring 2009 Barbour International Y $400 (England) ou can’t approach the Barbour International the same way you do the other jackets in this review. The Barbour is an anachronism, a rakishly good-looking bit of classic kit that’s been in production since before the parents of the designers of most of the other jackets here were born—1936 to be exact. Look through old photographs of the Scottish Border Trials, the International Six-Day Trials, or any of the rough-and-tumble backcountry motorbike competitions popular up through the 1970s, and you’ll spot the Barbour’s trademark angled left chest pocket through the mud splattered on the men on Triumphs, Ariels, and BSAs. There’s Steve McQueen astride a Triumph Trophy in the 1965 ISDT, cigarette dangling from his lips and grimy Barbour buttoned up tight. You just don’t get more stylish than that. So: Good looks and 40-year-old celebrity endorsements are fine, but how does the International fare today against space-age competition? For a short answer, I asked Gordon May, who recently rode a restored 1953 Royal Enfield motorcycle 8,400 miles from England to India. He told me, “The Barbour was one of the best pieces of kit I had on my journey. It was supremely comfortable, even in 40°C heat, and survived a 30-mph crash exceedingly well.” Not a bad endorsement. A longer answer is that in some areas the Barbour is fully the equal of its 21st-century rivals; in other areas you will need to make allowances—or modifications. The International’s tightly woven, eight-ounce-per-square-yard cotton shell is infused with Barbour’s proprietary wax; the seams are stitched with thread treated with the same stuff. Not only does the wax repel water, the cotton itself swells when wet and blocks moisture— the wetter it gets the more it swells and the better it seals. (Doubt this concept? The immersion suits pioneered by Spitfire pilots battling Messerschmitts over the English Channel were made of a tightly woven, unwaxed cotton called ventile, which increased ditched-pilot survival to 80 percent during the Battle of Britain. Ventile immersion suits are still issued by several air forces.) The Barbour’s zipper is protected by an effective double storm flap, and the high collar, lined with no-chafe corduroy, buckles closed. A belt cinches the waist against updrafts, and the cuffs button snugly. The bottom cargo pockets incorporate tunnel tops that folds over to seal under the button flaps (all the hardware on the International is, of course, solid brass). The result is effectively rainproof—I managed to get a few drops through the underarm ventilation grommets during my hose test, but that was it. I did notice, as I have for years with my Barbour Bedale, that the slightly breathable waxed cotton is not as windproof as a modern laminate; wind chill seems to seep through the shell and the cotton tartan lining at speed. I needed an extra layer or a heavier sweater to stay as warm in the International as in the modern jackets (a snap-in pile or quilted lining is available). I’d be curious to see the difference if Barbour offered the tartan lining in lightweight wool. On the other hand, like Gordon May I found the Barbour, even in black, to be cooler in warm weather than all but the very best-ventilated of the synthetic jackets. What I’d give for one of these in khaki . . . Where the Barbour pales in comparison with modern motorcycle garments—Gordon’s crash notwithstanding—is in safety. Waxed cotton is extremely tough, but it can’t match Cordura nylon for abrasion resistance. Lacking any reflective strips, riding in this black jacket at night is like wearing the One Ring. And with no armor whatsoever, the Barbour comes with a 1930s approach to impact protection as well as style. But I found solutions for the last two issues. Several companies, such as the excellent Forcefield, make lightweight, modular armor panels that can be worn under a standard jacket, vastly increasing crash protection. Then I looked at the Aerostich/Rider Wearhouse catalog and found their LED armbands, and 3M’s brilliant SOLAS-grade reflective tape to affix to my helmet. Now I have a combination that should ensure my International another few decades of both style and function. Note to Barbour: Start planning that Centenary Edition. Barbour.com; britishmotorcyclegear.com, 800-432-9004 Overland Journal Spring 2009 77 Rukka AllRoad W 78 $1,300 (Finland) hat makes the Rukka AllRoad worth $900 more than several jackets here? Honestly, I can’t tell you it’s worth $900 more—that’s strictly a personal decision. But I can try to tell you why it costs $900 more, and maybe that will help. First, the Rukka is made in Finland, where it costs more to make stuff than it does in large oriental countries. But that’s a comparatively minor point. Much more importantly, the AllRoad comprises a carefully considered suite of premium-quality fabrics, laminates, armor, and design features that add up to both a technological tour de force and a motorcycling garment that combines versatile weather-resistance, crash protection, and comfort in a way I doubted was possible until I tried it. The AllRoad’s shell combines Cordura 500, Schoeller Dynatec, and stretch Cordura (all nylon derivatives) to achieve a wind- and abrasionresistant outer layer of moderate weight—it’s middle of the pack at 4 pounds, 13 ounces. The Dynatec offers extra abrasion protection in contact areas such as forearms and shoulders, and the stretch Cordura keeps the arms and shoulders comfortable and flap-free at speed (augmented by snap sleeve adjusters). Each section of fabric is double-row stitched to its neighbor for strength. There’s a soft, zip-on, Gore-Texlined collar muff that fills in the drafty area between collar and helmet. The two bottom front pockets are also Gore-Tex-lined; the left chest pocket has a cunning, leashed insert that holds your passport. If a border official hassles you after you flourish your ID from that, the man is dead to the very concept of panache. The AllRoad’s sleek, waterproof liner jacket is protected with GoreTex, rather than a generic substitute or a cheaper polyurethane coating. Inside that is a soft, lightweight insulation called Outlast, which incorporates microcapsules of a substance that changes from a liquid to a solid state (known as “phase change”), depending on body temperature. Essentially the material has the capability to preserve body heat when you need it, and let it escape it when you don’t. The liner is very thin, but comfortable over a wide range of temperatures. (Small—no, mediumish—gripe: I could do without all the Outlast/Gore-Tex/Cor- Overland Journal Spring 2009 dura logos stitched to the AllRoad’s shell. For $1,300 I shouldn’t feel like a walking product endorsement.) The Rukka passed my hose test; the only moisture to reach the liner entered through the arm vents, which are situated to scoop air and thus do so with water as well, even when closed. The liner itself remained inviolate. After several minutes of blasting the breathable outer shell did start to absorb and hold some moisture—to be expected of the construction. Nice features and excellent performance, to be sure. However, perhaps the single most impressive characteristic of the AllRoad is its armor. Despite EN 1621-1 certification, the RVP Air armor system—in the forearms and elbows, shoulders, and back—is so light, so breathable, and so flexible that I literally could not tell I was wearing an armored jacket. It’s not foam, but an open-grid-pattern, rubbery material called SBS (ready?: Stureme Butadiene Styrene), which feels extremely resilient despite being mostly air space. Compared to rivals that offer a taste of what it felt like to be a competitor in a Medieval jousting tournament, it’s an awesome achievement. The Rukka was far and away the most comfortable armored jacket in this review. And there’s where the question of value arises. The Rukka comes closer than any motorcycle jacket I’ve worn to achieving the impossible: an armored jacket that doesn’t feel armored, an insulated jacket that doesn’t feel bulky. Additionally, the construction is flawless, no matter how closely I looked. I freely admit to being a sucker for flawless construction. Whether that’s all worth the extra cash, only you can decide. Is the AllRoad perfect? No. For example, the main zipper is covered with a single flap unworthy of a jacket a quarter the price. Also, the sleeves and shoulders incorporate ventilation slots, but the jacket is devoid of an exhaust vent on the back, without which incoming air has nowhere to exit. On a near-90°F day I had to partially undo the main zipper to retain circulation through that wonderful airy back armor. Those whines aside, there’s no jacket here I’d be as likely to choose for a long, long trip. rukka.com; adventuremotogear.com, 800-217-3526 79 Clockwise from top left: Close to the perfect motorcycle jacket—if you can afford it. Neoprene collar is comfortable and moves with you; augmented by a zipon muff. No matter how closely you look, the workmanship is perfect. Gore-Tex and Outlast add up to a versatile, waterproof inner jacket. The Rukka’s remarkable armor is tough, but cool and virtually unnoticeable. The cunning, weatherproof passport pocket is leashed. Overland Journal Spring 2009 80 Clockwise from top left: No telling from looking this is the least expensive jacket here. Fleece collar also boasts a zip-on muff. Velcro strips hold open both entry and exhaust vents. The inner jacket is warm, but loose-fitting and bulky. Light and comfortable, CE-certified shoulder armor. Overland Journal Spring 2009 Fieldsheer Adventure L $300 (China) ook in virtually any motorcycling magazine and it’s difficult to miss the multi-page ads from Fieldsheer, featuring models who look more like they stepped off a Paris runway than a motorcycle. Considering all the cash that must eat, it’s even more of a mystery how the company could produce this jacket for this price. The Adventure has a lot of the features—and a lot of the performance—of jackets costing considerably more. In fact, I rarely remember thinking good for the price while I wore it. It’s a good jacket, period. The Adventure starts with Teflon-coated (water-repellent), 1,000-denier Cordura shell material, which is as abrasion-resistant as anything here. That’s backed up with what Fieldsheer calls Rainguard, a free-hanging liner that employs a breathable polyurethane coating as its barrier. Any driven rain that gets through the outer Cordura runs down the Rainguard liner and out through drain grommets. It’s an effectively waterproof combination. Although the shell will eventually retain moisture, it didn’t during my hose test, with its Teflon coating still fresh. As far as I could tell, no water even made it to the inner liner, as there were no drips from the grommets. However, the promised “breathability” through both the polyurethane-coated liner and Teflon-coated 1,000-denier shell is going to be, let’s say, modest at best. Fortunately, the Adventure is equipped with excellent vents in the upper arms and shoulders, and an exhaust vent in the upper back, all of which Velcro open (with considerable gloves-off fiddling) to enhance flow. It is, in fact, a better venting system than the one on the $1,300 Rukka. A polyester mesh interior liner keeps the Rainguard layer away from your clothes to help air circulation and moisture dissipation. The Adventure is armored on forearms and elbows, shoulders, and back with a sandwiched material that combines impact-absorbing foam with a harder, abrasion-resistant outer cap. It’s light, flexible, and CE certified (Fieldsheer even has its own testing machine). On the shoulders and forearms Fieldsheer added extra sewn-in foam padding—it’s not really armor but might add a bit of impact absorption. As a package, the Adventure is stiff and very noisy at first (it’s also the second-heaviest jacket at 5 pounds, 6 ounces), as one might expect from 1,000-denier Cordura, but it should break in with use. On the bike it was comfortable—no flapping, and no drafts at any speed up to 75 mph when buttoned up, but lots of air flow with the slots open, with the notable exception of the area under the back armor panel, which is un-perforated and created a large sticky spot on warm days. Elsewhere it remained cool, and the light grey color on the shoulders of my sample jacket minimized heat gain there. Panels and piping of a reflective material Fieldsheer calls Phoslite did a good job of reflecting light at night. Exterior detailing is good—I found a few loose threads and run-on stitches, but nothing major. The Adventure’s quilted inner jacket is probably its least impressive feature. It’s reasonably warm, but bulky, especially in the arms, and the thin shell fabric is cheap-looking. The Adventure’s shell has a rear bottom tunnel pocket with a short zipper on each end, supposedly to carry the inner jacket when not needed. After a considerable struggle, I did manage to get it stuffed in there—but then found I could barely close the shell enough in front to engage the zipper. And as for getting it back out, let’s just say there’s a good chance the weather will have warmed up anyway by the time you accomplish that. So, not sure about that feature. Also, there’s an itty bitty electronics pocket on the right chest that’s possibly big enough for an iPod Shuffle, but it wouldn’t hold any cell phone or iPod we own (I understand it’s being enlarged soon). These are small criticisms of a solid jacket. The Adventure never embarrassed itself as the least expensive jacket here, and in a couple of areas it embarrassed considerably more expensive rivals. fieldsheer. com, 888-245-3432 Overland Journal Spring 2009 81 Motoport Ultra II Air Mesh Kevlar H 82 ow’s this for a guarantee: If you crash wearing a Motoport Ultra II jacket, and the company can’t repair the damage (to the jacket, not you), they’ll replace the entire jacket at no cost. Since the Ultra II is built one at a time to your measurements in California, this is like having a personal motorcycle tailor at your beck and call. Let’s say you do crash. In the Motoport, you’re likely to be better protected than in any of the other jackets here. That’s a bold statement, but let’s look at the jacket itself. First, the entire mesh shell of the Ultra II is made of Kevlar, blended with Dynatec (a nylon) for abrasion resistance (pure Kevlar, despite its tensile strength, is surprisingly sensitive to abrasion), with stretch Kevlar/Dynatec/Lycra panels on the insides of the arms. The result is an abrasion rating comparable to 1,000-denier Cordura, but tear strength 11 times higher—and that’s with an extremely open weave that lets air flow freely through the fabric. The Air Mesh’s shell is designed to survive not only sliding forces, but impacts that could tear open lesser fabrics. Additionally, the Ultra II incorporates more armor than any other jacket in this group: forearms and elbows, shoulders, back, and, uniquely, the upper chest. Each of those panels is big, too—there’s barely a three-inch gap between the shoulder and elbow inserts. The armor in the sample jacket is called Quad Armor, a four-layer sandwich of closed-cell EVA foam, memory foam designed to mold to your physique, and an outer layer of a Dow Corning product called APS. Add it all up and you’ve got the M1 Abrams of motorcycle jackets. Okay: If I knew I were going to crash while riding on a particular day, the Ultra II is hands-down the jacket I’d pick to be wearing. However, if I knew I were going to crash in my Land Cruiser on a particular day, I’d wear Nomex coveralls and a helmet while driving that day, too. Obviously, everyday use sways our priorities from pure safety to other matters, such as comfort. Overland Journal Spring 2009 $429 plus options (USA) The Ultra II with Quad-Armor is a bulky jacket. It’s significantly the bulkiest here (and significantly the heaviest at 6 pounds, 12 ounces), and if you expect to look like Steve McQueen while standing around in it, forget it. Entomologists will think you’re pupating. Some armored jackets are comfortable enough to leave on while sitting drinking coffee at a café, but you’ll want this one off—and it’ll need its own chair. With that said, once on the bike the jacket felt fine, and didn’t hinder the movements necessary for spirited riding. The armor is always a tangible presence, but once it has molded a bit isn’t uncomfortable. And despite its bulk, in warm weather this jacket is breezy. On an 85°F day I was almost chilly at highway speed. Even in black, no jacket here is cooler in hot weather. Of course, it follows that the liner, which employs a microporous membrane called Aero-Tex (said to be functionally similar to Gore-Tex), is essential for any warmth or rain protection at all. During my spray test, the outer mesh shell absorbed what felt like pounds of water, although it also drained out quickly. The inner shell successfully kept my test medium dry, but even its outer material, which is not coated (to retain breathability) absorbed some moisture. This is the only jacket here I’d consider augmenting with an ultralight coated rainshell to avoid feeling totally waterlogged in a downpour, and to add some warmth on chilly days. The base Ultra II is astoundingly affordable for a custom-made jacket. However, if you want a complete system the options stack up. The Aero-Tex liner is $129; if you’d like zip-in Thermolite insulation with that, add $60. The Ultra II comes standard with Tri-Armor, adding the even more effective Quad-Armor adds $199. Scotchlite reflective strips down the outside of both sleeves will set you back another 29 bucks. Tick every box and your debit card will be hit for $846. While that’s more than a lot of excellent motorcycle jackets cost, you’ll think it cheap if you ever have to watch pavement sliding by from an elevation of six inches. motoport.com, 800-777-6499 83 Clockwise from top left: Not exactly sleek, but definitely protective. The fleece collar is comfortable, but you’ll need the inner jacket for warmth. A flashlight shows the open weave of the Air Mesh II’s fabric. The inner jacket is waterproof, and can be configured as a shell, or insulated with its own liner. The Motoport is stitched to your measurements in the U.S. Quad-Armor is thick, sophisticated, and effective. Overland Journal Spring 2009