Reviews > Shelters > Hammocks > Hennessy Explorer Ultralite A-Sym > Owners Reviews > Owner Review by Andre Corterier

Hennessy "Explorer Ultralight Asym" Hammock

Owner Review by André Corterier
DATE: 2005-SEP-28

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Weight Comparisons - scale accurate to 1 g (0.04 oz)
listed weight: 1110 g (39 oz)
measured weights:
hammock body: 702 g (24.8 oz)
rain fly: 341 g (12.0 oz)
total "hammock" weight: 1043 g (36.8 oz)
Snakeskins: 22 g (0.8 oz) (ea.)
Treehugger straps: 76 g (2.7 oz) (ea.) - I ordered the longer "72 in" straps (which were actually 190 cm/75 in long)

total weight: 1239 g (43.7 oz)

I also carry four stakes weighing 15 g (0.5 oz) (ea.) with this set for staking out the fly and hammock body, so end up with a total weight for this shelter system of 1299 g (45.8 oz).

Introduction:
This is a hammock with a number of features not found on the common or garden variety hammock. First, it is enclosed with bug netting, which is held up by a ridgeline which connects the points at which the hammock body joins the support ropes. This ridgeline controls the "sag" of the hammock, which plays a large part in making the sleep experience in the hammock predictable - much less depends on the placement of trees than it might otherwise. As the bug netting is sewn to the edges of the hammock body, it must be entered elsewhere - through a slit in the bottom, which can be closed with strips of hook and loop fastener. This slit extends from one support rope a third of the way to the center of the hammock. It's not a good idea to lie on the closed slit, however. It isn't necessary, either - for the following reasons:

The sides of the hammock body are cut longer than one might expect. So instead of forming a half-pipe, the hammock sides open up further. This becomes particularly pronounced when staking out the bungee cords attached to the outermost points of the hammock sides. This "opening" is not symmetrical (hence the "Asym" in the name). Rather, the points at which the hammock sides reach out the furthest lie on a diagonal, with one such point close to the slit end of the hammock (the foot end) and the other one close to the head end. This creates a rectangular inside area, the diagonal of which is made up by the ridgeline. The sleeper is meant to occupy the center of this rectangle, so is lying at a diagonal to the ridgeline/support ropes. As the hammock sides come down, this is meant to allow the hammock occupant to sleep on a level instead of the banana shape commonly associated with hammocks.

The ridgeline also features two hooks and a mesh pocket for storage. Tied to the support ropes with Prusik knots are two hooks to which the rain fly is fixed (it can easily be taken off). Prusik knots hold tight under load, but are easy to slide along the rope as long as no pull is exerted on them. This, in combination with the stake out lines on the rain fly, allows positioning the rain fly "just so".

History:
In 2004, I originally ordered, received, and used the Explorer Deluxe model – a few ounces heavier, rated for 50 lb (25 kg) more, with a heavier, green hammock body instead of the “Coyote Brown” body of the Ultralight. I had ordered the heavier model because I figured that I might want to let a certain other party borrow it (who has since both lost weight and declared to have no interest whatsoever in hammock camping) or share it with my daughter - who will be too big to fit in there with me before our combined weight exceeds its rating. I had also thought that the "Hunter Green" hammock body and "Coyote Brown" rain fly where a particularly attractive and low-key colour combination. (I prefer subdued nature colours in my backpacking gear, for visual LNT – called camouflage by some - , though I shy away from actual camo patterns.) The model I originally received must have been an older model (shipped from the UK), and came with the old rain fly (the size of which has since been increased).

Storm Trial:
I first tested this hammock on a warm summer night in a small copse of trees very close to the house in which I live. In the interest of a complete test, Mother Nature provided a thunderstorm that night. I slept in an old down bag, on an old closed-cell foam pad, and without taking note of the temperature. Even though it rained and stormed (both ameliorated by the trees surrounding me), I did not freeze. I also did not sleep.

The reason for this was anxiety – I had no previous experience with this sort of thing. The last time I had slept outside in a hammock was in a banana-shaped net hammock nearly ten years earlier in a sultry Mediterranean night on the southern Spanish coast, after which I got up feeling ten years older (wait – that would be as old as I am now – okay, even older). This was an entirely different thing. It felt differently, and it certainly sounded differently. When I had just about gotten used to it, the storm came up. First thunder rumbled in the distance, then wind began swaying the trees between which I was (increasingly) swinging, then rain began drumming on the rain fly. I kept worrying that my down bag would get wet, though I had pitched the rain fly low – much like an A-frame tent, really. But the thunderstorm passed without incident.

When I looked (rather bleary-eyed) at the scene the next morning, I found that everything had worked out well. The bungee cord spreading out the hammock body had limited swinging to a level which did not induce nausea, the ridge line had held the hammock body in shape though the support rope had stretched some, the rain fly had sagged some, but not a drop of water had hit my bag. Even my shoes had remained dry. I had hung them with their laces tied over the internal ridgeline, hanging just outside of the body of the hammock through the entry slit. I had been physically comfortable all night. So in the end, it had really been a success all around – or would have been, if I had trusted the setup enough to actually sleep.

This was a good trial, though – I have found that all my subsequent nights in my hammock have been under less adverse conditions, and as I now know that my hammock (even with the then smaller rain fly) could handle those, I can (and do) rest at ease.

Field Environment:
I first used that (Explorer Deluxe) hammock in the field at a three-night campout which we undertook. I used it for two nights out of the three (the other night I decided to share the floor of the uppermost tower level of an old castle ruin with a few buddies after we’d been hiking all day and most of the night). Sleeping in my hammock was unadventurous, but I showed it off to a large number of people that time. One of them later wanted me to get the same model for him (it was the right weight range for him) and I sold him the one I had and got the Explorer Ultralight for myself (and a second one for yet another buddy). I had figured that I would never take any advantage of the large weight range it provided and had just begun to seriously reduce the weight I carried. What I did find out when spending that one night on the ground, was that either the ground has gotten harder as I got older or I have become less good at adapting to it – at any rate, sleeping in my hammock was certainly a lot more comfortable than doing it on the ground (even with a 15 mm (3/5 in) closed cell foam pad as padding).

I have since used the hammock that is the subject of this review many times, on multi-day excursions and overnighters, with temperatures between about 5 C and 25 C (40 F and 80 F), wind, rain and sunshine. I have spent well over a dozen nights in it, once being accompanied by my daughter. I have often hung it for a rest break when dayhiking (my daughter loves it, we take turns rocking each other), using all sorts of things as supports. I once hung it at a playground, where it was promptly mistaken for a new toy by the neighbourhood kids when I was off playing "Hide and Seek" with my daughter (they were very disappointed when I came to pack it up again). My trips consisted of daytrips and overnighters in hilly, forrested terrain with elevations between about 100 and 500 m (330 and 1640 ft).

Features:
The hammock has a couple of unique features (well, unique to this brand of hammock - they can be found on some of the other hammocks of the same manufacturer as well). Among them are:

- "Treehugger" straps:
These are black webbing straps which look and feel like seat belts. They have been folded over and bar tacked together at both ends. They are - now - standard equipment on most of the Hennessy Hammocks. Their purpose is to protect the bark of the trees from which the hammock hangs. Sleeping in the hammock exerts a great amount of lateral force on the support points, which could cause the support rope to dig into the bark, which - without going into specifics - may inflict lasting damage on the trees. And trees are our friends, right? Never more so than after I started hammock camping...
In order to do their job, these need to fit around the trees I intend to use. I've found that the standard ones which accompanied my first hammock (listed at 42 in/107 cm, I did not measure them) failed to do so on a number of the old growth trees I felt like suspending my hammock from. So I ordered the intermediate length, listed at 72 in (183 cm). For the Explorer Ultralight, they are 5 cm (2 in) broad and turned out to be 190 cm (75 in) long. These fit around more trees and sometimes need to be wrapped around the smaller ones more than once. Of course, I still find just as many trees that even these straps won't fit around, but even the longest offered set (at 96 in/244 cm) would not change that. With the straps I have, I generally don't have to discard many potential hanging sites (my, that sounds evil), so I am happy with them.

- Mesh Pocket:
This is a neat gimmick. Not necessary for the operation of the hammock (and easy to remove), it is still a feature I like. I can position this pocket anywhere I like along the ridge line - it slides. I put the contents of my pants pockets in here (whether or not I sleep in my pants) to prevent the stuff from getting lost. Among these is my cell phone, which I use as an alarm clock (when necessary). Located here, I actually hear the darn thing going off in the morning. I guess that's good...
What's even better is that I can put my little flashlight in here in order to light the inside of my hammock. I can even adjust the light so it shines directly into my book or journal (if and when I brought one). When I get too tired to continue reading or writing, I slip the book over the ridge line (which marks my place until morning), turn off what's become the ceiling light and fall asleep. Very, very neat.

- Ridgeline Hooks:
While these may only weigh a few grams at most, I am tempted to take them off. They have yet to be useful. When I hang something heavy from them, they tend to slide down the ridge line towards the center of the hammock - that is, right over me, which is generally not where I want the stuff to be which I hung from them.

- "Snakeskins":
These are long, tapering sleeves of silnylon (also "Coyote Brown"), with a very small opening on one side (just wide enough for a finger) and a larger one on the other side (wide enough for my wrist). They slide over the hammock's support rope from both ends, with the larger hole towards the center. This allows rolling up the hammock against its support rope and then sliding the Snakeskins over the roll. The end result is a nice, self-contained package. Nothing goes anywhere, and it's protected from rain or dirt etc., too.

- Entry Slit:
The entry slit features hook and loop type fasteners on both sides, which allows closing it securely against bugs. It makes getting into the hammock easy - I stand inside the entrance with my back towards the hammock proper, sit down, lie back and put my feet up - done. As I put my feet to the side of the entry slit, the entry slit pulls closed and I often do not even have to adjust the way the fasteners stick.
This means that things can fall out of the hammock when the entry slit is open, and it means that when I exit the hammock, there tends to be a bit of sleeping bag hanging out of it, sometimes a bit of my pad as well. There's a cool side to this also, however: Cleaning my hammock is ridiculously easy, as it has an opening on the bottom. I just shake it up a bit (when empty) while standing in the entrance, and all the dirt and leaves and twigs which managed to come inside with me fall right out. No more trying to sweep the bathtub floor of my tent with my bare hands.

Where to hang out:
What is likely true for all camping hammocks, but at any rate is certainly true for me with this one, is that it is a liberating item. It may not serve as well in deserts or above the tree line, but where I hike, there tend to be trees – lots of them. In fact, I guesstimate 80% or more of the area through which I hike to be forested. This means that I can forget worrying about where to camp. I simply walk until I feel like walking no more (when I get a late start, this is often in the middle of the night). I then look around and usually find a good spot to hang my hammock within 30 seconds. On a really bad night, it may take up to 15 minutes of continuing to walk in the direction I was going anyway. But in either case I need not worry about camping sites. I do not plan my hike from one campsite/shelter to the next, and need never make the choice between either stopping at this shelter with two hours of daylight wasted, or having to hike until midnight or later to the next one. I can always hike just that little bit longer until I don’t feel like walking anymore. 30 minutes later, I sleep.

I do tend to cook my evening meals in places that lend themselves to the use of open flame. But I have begun to pack up thereafter even in the evenings, in order to hike (sometimes just a little bit) further. This is a particularly enjoyable time for me, because it is so carefree. I feel like I’ve done my day’s work, all that I’m still doing now is “extra”. When my feet tell me they’re tired, I stop. But if they’re not, and that little hill in front of me tempts me to find out what I can see from its top, then I walk a little further. All this is made possible by the fact that I can hang my hammock anywhere where there are trees. I don't decide to either camp at the foot or push through to the top of what passes for a "mountain" around here. I can camp anywhere I like on it where there are trees, even right on the steepest slope.

Setting Up:
I have never timed myself for this, nor attempted doing it at top speed. But I am done in a few minutes, quicker even than setting up my old tent (which is quick to set up). Finding trees the right distance apart has become easy, too. I read in an internet forum that trees which one can just barely touch with the ends of hiking poles held in the extended hands are just the right distance apart. I don’t usually carry hiking poles, but they are easy enough to imagine. I find that by imagining hiking poles in my hands, I am spanning a distance which is good to hang my hammock in, though close to the smaller limit. The hammock, particularly when slung between more slender trees, which allows the treehugger straps to add some hanging distance, can span nearly 6 m (20 ft).

Something I dislike about my hammock, however, is that its support rope stretches in a way which I've heard people refer to as "memory stretch". This means that while it stretches under load, it comes back together when the load is off, which means that it will stretch again the next time I hang it up. This requires hanging the hammock a good bit higher than I actually want it, and sitting in it for a while to have it come down. Not really a big issue, particularly as the integral ridgeline controls the amount of sag the hammock body experiences. This means that even if it sags a good bit, I still sleep in the position I'm used to. However, the further the trees are apart, the more rope can experience this stretch, and the more pronounced the sag gets. So the one time where I actually attached it to trees which were 6 m (20 ft) apart, I invariably ended up with my butt just off the ground, no matter how high I tried to hang it – this made getting in and out more difficult, but did not affect sleeping in it in any way. (I tried stretching it out and retightening it, but the rope's "memory" is too good - every time the load came off, it regained enough stretchiness to reduce the effectiveness of my repeated tightening attempts to near zero.) The solution, of course, is to take different trees - it's just that I was stuck on a campground due to some tenters I was accompanying.

With the Snakeskins installed, hanging the hammock is simplicity itself. A Treehugger goes around the tree, the rope goes through the Treehugger`s openings. Then I loop the support rope in a figure eight pattern: one circle goes around the rope leading to the hammock body and the other circle wraps around the place where the rope holds the two ends of the Treehugger strap together. Four figure-eights make a “Hennessy lashing”. I used to mumble “over – and under … over – and under …” while doing this but I can now (having done it often) even do it while talking to someone else (a supreme test with me – when I talk, I sometimes even stop walking).

Then I slide back the Snakeskins and stake out the rain fly. I usually stake it to the ground rather closely, which creates an inverted “V”. This has always given me good coverage against wind and rain (and my weather prediction skills need improving). Having put some tension on the rain fly in this manner, I then slide the Prusik knots which attach the rain fly to the support ropes out as far as they'll go, which gives me a nice, tense suspension for the rainfly. I generally don’t stake out the hammock body anymore – I don’t mind what little amount of swinging I get. The lines on the rain fly are actually 280 cm (over 9 ft) long, so this inverted "V" can be made wide open. The lines can also be used to attach the rain fly to other trees, which allows for a level "ceiling".

Lastly, I put in my sleeping pad and spread my sleeping bag on top of it, zippered three-quarters open so I can sit down on it in a way which will allow me to lay back and put my feet into the foot box, zip up and go to sleep. Much faster than with a tent. I can't tell you (nor my envious friends whom I have just recently infected with the hammocking bug) any more specifically what I do differently now than in the beginning, where getting into my hammock, into the bag and on my pad required a quarter hour of hammock gymnastics. Practice makes better (we'll see about perfect).

Packing Up:
This is where the Snakeskins really shine. I roll up my hammock, slide the Snakeskins over it - done. I used to have to fiddle around with it to get it all inside and used to exhaust my thumbs by pushing bits of it all under the Snakeskins. I am unable to say what I do differently now, but none of those issues are still around. All I do is gather the strings (cord and line to stake out hammock body and rain fly), drop them into the first fold I make by pulling up the rain fly from the other side under the hammock body, and start rolling it up for a few revolutions. Having done so, I tuck the part of the rain fly hanging past the roll I'm beginning to form into that roll, and then roll up the entire thing. If I do it right, no part of the upper (and potentially wet) side of the rain fly contacts the hammock body inside the roll. Having rolled it up, I hold the roll with one hand and pull the Snakeskin from the far end over it with the other hand. Then comes the other Snakeskin. Usually, I then have to slide the Prusik knots which hold the rain fly on the support rope a little closer towards the hammock body so the Snakeskins won't slide over them and yet slide far enough along the hammock to overlap in the center. This sometimes causes the rain fly to become unhooked from the hooks on those knots. However, this is easily hooked back on when setting up again.

Transport:
Having taken my hammock down, I end up with a "snake", a long, stuffed tube of silnylon with support ropes hanging out of each end, and the two Treehugger straps. I fold the snake in half and then gather it together to form a roughly pillow- shaped mass of it, lay the folded Treehuggers across it and wrap the whole thing up with the support rope ends. I end up with a pillow-shaped package that rides well on top of my Vapor Trail backpack, held down by the top straps. I've even managed to wrap it around my MacPac Kauri daypack for transport. In neither event has there ever been a problem, and there is nothing to suggest that I couldn't carry it inside my pack if I so chose. Being able to carry it outside without having to worry about it getting wet, however, is another "liberating" thing about it.

Weather Protection:
I try to hang my hammock in places where wind and rain do not hit it directly. Generally, this means hanging it up in the middle of the woods somewhere - another place were tenters can't go. There, rain, no matter how hard it's being blown above the canopy of the woods, tends to drip down vertically, and it takes a lot of wind above to make more than a breeze felt below - where I am. I don't need much weather protection there, and this hammock provides more than enough of it.

When hanging in a more scenic (read: exposed) spot, weather protection becomes an issue. In my experience, much of this depends on the proper orientation of the rain fly. When I know or can guess from which direction the wind will come, angling that side a little lower helps. By moving the Prusik knots a little closer to the hammock body, I can position the rain fly a little off-center, which allows staking one side of it down so that the rain fly coverage (in the vertical) extends below the hammock body. This means that even horizontally blown rain won't touch me, and that wind chill (convective heat loss) is reduced. This reduction still means that it can get a little chilly, however - a hammock's good ventilation also means that it reduces wind chill less than a tent does. The solution - in my book - is to either have a bit of safety margin in the pad and sleeping bag, or to move away from the exposed places. The latter is what I do when the weather has developed in a way which takes up some or all of the safety margin presented by the equipment I carry. As in what some folks call the weather "turning nasty" — but really there's nothing nasty about it.

I note that the rain fly develops some sag during the night when it gets wet. I therefore take care to get a nice, tense set for it, which has so far prevented it from drooping so low as to contact the bug netting (though it's been right close a few times, when I pitched the rain fly steeply for improved weather protection).

Insulation:
I have tried sleeping in the hammock without a pad, but have found this not to work for me. Even in summer, with temperatures around 10 C (50 F) in the small hours of the morning, I have felt cold in the small of my back. I don’t like that. For summer use (expected low temps above 10 C/50 F), I purchased a 180 x 60 cm (72 x 24 in) Evazote (closed cell foam) pad 5 mm (0.2 in) thin which I use with a Snugpak Softie 3 Merlin sleeping bag.

For Spring and Fall, with expected temperatures below 10 C / 50 F but above freezing, I use a 15 mm (3/5 in) Evazote pad and an old (but still serviceable) down bag (weighing 1365 g in its stuff sack – call it a three- pound bag). Wearing my normal hiking clothing, I am plenty warm this way.
I have found that it is quite easy to partially unzip the bag whenever I find that I’m wearing more than is necessary. On the other hand, when I wake up feeling a little cold or even freezing, it is a massive bother to get up out of my bag, dig out clothing, put it on and get back into my bag. It requires waking up all the way and requires getting out of my sleeping bag when I’m cold already! So I have decided to err on the side of caution. Should I ever feel that I’m still cold this way, I still have my rain gear, gloves and a buff to put on.

I am wondering – and may try out this winter – whether I can spend winter nights in my hammock using both pads and both bags. My feeling is (from having had occasional cold spots when turning at night in a fashion which moved some part of me off the pad) that my comfort would be increased by a wider pad. Such are not commercially available in Germany (that I am aware of). I will likely fashion one myself from an Evazote pad cut in two.

Room (or lack thereof):
While my hammock is roomy and not the least claustrophobic, there isn't actually that much room in it. In a tent, sometimes I'd leave an insulation layer lying around on the ground next to me in case I need it at night. If I do this in my hammock, which slopes towards me when I'm in it, it ends up underneath me or underneath my pad, which makes it nearly impossible to locate in the dark and nearly as difficult to retrieve. This is true for most anything that doesn't go into the mesh pocket on the ridgeline. So I cannot leave a bottle with something to drink or a snack lying around in case I want it at night. My shoes tend to be hung from the ridgeline so that they hang through the entry slit (which keeps them from sliding down the ridgeline towards me). My pack either hangs from the support rope just outside the hammock, where it still enjoys some protection from the rain fly, or ends up on the ground underneath the hammock (no raccoons - or porcupines - around here).

It is possible to suspend a pack - inside the hammock - from one of the ends of the hammock. The ridgeline bifurcates just before entering the knot which holds the hammock body together, and I can hook a carabineer there so that it cannot slide. My pack is a little too bulky for me to be comfortable with suspending it from that carabineer, though. It'll definitely work if I really want my pack protected, though - it's just that when I hang it near my head I find it bothersome when sleeping (hangs down too far) and when I hang it at my feet, which is fine at night, it adds considerable bother to entering and exiting the hammock because it falls out of the slit every time and then holds it open.

Looks (LNT):
I really, really like my "Coyote Brown" hammock. Detractors may refer to it as fecal brown, I call it bark brown. Which, really, is what it is and why it is so stealthy. Brown is a colour that seems always present in the woods, even when the leaves turn and in snowy winter. I have found that no matter what season it is, my hammock, strung up in an out-of-the-way place, does not attract notice. I once strung my hammock low across what I take to be an old bomb crater (not rare around cities in Germany), which kept the rain fly pretty much at what was ground level around it. With a few dry leaves thrown on top for good measure, it blended into the background so well that I took care not to stray too far from it, lest I be unable to find it again in the approaching dusk.

Foreign Relations:
I have noticed that when discussing with tent-dwellers how much cooler a hammock is and how easy it is to find a spot to hang it, their skepticism is, at least in part, due to the fact that we invariably discuss this on a campground. When I set up my hammock away from a campground, I usually do this by myself or in the company of hammockers (the few which I have infected). We tend to do this in out-of-the-way places, so tent-dwellers don’t get to see us.

When they do get to see us, it’s because we’re on a campground, usually because we’re accompanying tenters. They’re stuck to campgrounds, and because we’re stuck to the tenters, so are we. But on a campground, a tenter can put his or her tent anywhere, that being the point of a campground – while good trees to hang several hammocks from tend to be a bit harder to find. Sometimes I end up hanging it from objects so far apart that I cannot hang it high enough to end up more than 30 cm (a foot) off the ground in the morning. All this raises doubt in the mind of the tenter. What the tenter does not realize is that (s)he walked several km (mi) to get here, to the one spot where setting up a tent is easier than setting up a hammock, while we walked through several square km (square mi) of terrain to get there, in all of which it is ridiculously easy for me to hang my hammock and nearly impossible to find a suitable spot for a tent. So there.

Durability:
I have noticed that the support rope is beginning to show signs of wear where I tie it. I attribute this to the way I try to limit the amount of stretch I will encounter. After having slid the rope through the Treehugger straps, I pull on it heavily, which creates friction with the Treehugger strap webbing. Doing this repeatedly in order to limit the amount of additional sag I will encounter during the night (setting the height of the hammock) is beginning to abrade the support rope's protective sheath. Having noticed that, I've stopped doing this. Instead, I tie the hammock a little higher, then sit in it (on it) for a while to let the rope stretch some, retie it strongly and ignore what additional sag may come about.
I have not noticed - even after careful inspection before writing this report - any other signs of wear. As I have twice ended up lying only on the bug netting (getting used to getting onto my sleeping pad), have had up to four children play in it (swinging wildly in it and sometimes also ending up on the bug netting), I am quite impressed.

Comfort:
Much has been said about the comfort of the asymmetrical hammock, and I’ll say some more. I do *not* sleep level in it, though I lie at the required angle. I have tried shortening the ridge line with a sheepshank knot, and though that worked, the resulting change in hammock sag did not allow me to sleep entirely level. However, I lie close enough to level not to be bothered by the curvature except in a few positions in which I feel a hyper- extending pressure on my knees. I find it possible to lie on my side, though I tend to end up with parts of me not on my pad, which then tend to get cold (unless it’s really warm – which hasn’t been the case all that often). So I find that the level of comfort I achieve in it falls somewhat short of my bed at home. But I have slept more comfortably in my hammock than in some beds elsewhere, and the comfort is head and shoulders above sleeping on the ground (even when hung low). That first camp-out especially drove this point home, when I slept well one night in my hammock, spent the next on the hard ground attaining a modicum of rest and then – breathing a sigh of gratitude – returned to my arboreal abode.

I have come to realize that any shortcomings I thought I felt regarding the level of comfort in my hammock were due to comparing my not-so-good nights in it with the best ones I’ve had (and have read other hammock hangers’ accounts of). When compared with the alternative (oh, how I’ve come to pity the ground-dwellers), I sleep well and get some quality rest in my hammock.

Pros/Cons:
PROS: Best sleep I've ever had outdoors. Instant setup and breakdown. Can be hung almost everywhere. Most liberating item I have in my gear collection - finally, the woods are mine.
CONS: Support rope stretches every time, particularly when spanning large distances.

Side Note:
There was one night on an October camp-out in which everyone slept in huts (with lockable doors, though unheated) except for myself, who preferred to hang my hammock outside. Nearly everyone complained the next day that they had been cold (temps were guesstimated to have dropped to about 4 C/ 39 F that night). Also, the supplied mattresses in the drafty huts weren’t at their best anymore and so people had felt the hardwood boards beneath them. Also, invariably someone was snoring in the group shelters or talking in their sleep or what have you.

I, on the other hand, had slept, snug as a bug in a rug, in my hammock (using the colder-weather scenario outlined above), waking warm and rested in the morning. I was hanging at an impossible spot for any other camping method – the ground sloped steeply there. Yet, neither rain nor cold touched me while I lay and dreamed. It was this night which I had in mind when an online dare regarding “hammock poetry” prompted me to write the following:

Suspended in silence

under trees, over roots
I float

below sky, above ground
I rest

beneath stars, beyond earth
I sleep

suspended in silence,
I dream.

Personal Biographical Information:
Name: André Corterier
Gender: M
Age: 33
Height: 1.85 m (6 ft 1 in)
Weight: 80 kg (175 lb)
Email: andreDOTcorterierATfreenetDOTde
Home: Bonn, Germany

Backpacking Background:
I began backpacking in my late teens using Europe’s "InterRail"-System – weight hardly mattered, as we were on trains a lot. I recently rediscovered backpacking and have started out slowly – single-day 15 mile (24 km) jaunts by myself or even shorter hikes in the company of my little daughter. I am getting started on longer hikes, as a lightweight packer and hammock-camper. I’ve begun upgrading my old gear and am now shooting for a dry FSO weight (everything carried From the Skin Out except food, fuel and water) of about 10 kg (22 lb) for three-season camping. Not quite there yet.

Reviews > Shelters > Hammocks > Hennessy Explorer Ultralite A-Sym > Owners Reviews > Owner Review by Andre Corterier