The Most Versatile Base Layer You'll Ever Own

I can remember my first ski coat clearly: a purple anorak made by Columbia that I got when I was 11 years old. It was the coat that kept me dry and warm as I learned to ski and, in my mind, it became an essential force field for the chairlift. I wore the damn thing until it shredded. I can also easily recall my first pair of higher-end ski pants. They were made by The North Face and were with me all through high school until they completely fell apart.

However, if you asked me to tell you what base layers I wore as I grew up skiing, I’d laugh in your face. Base layers, while essential, are totally forgettable. Up until last year I had a bucket of random base layers that I picked through when I would go hunting, hiking, or skiing, but none of them left any kind of impression. I would just choose a merino top if I knew I was going to sweat a lot, and a thicker, synthetic layer if it was really cold.

Then last fall, I came across the Chinook Merino Hoody from Stone Glacier. At first it seemed like just another base layer top with a hood. My opinion changed, however, when I was forced to live in the Chinook for four days straight after getting caught in a storm while hunting in New Mexico. It snowed hard for the first two days, so we ended up tent camping, hunting, hiking, and cooking outside in foot-deep snow. I wore the Chinook under a midlayer, a down jacket, and a waterproof snow jacket as we hiked into camp and then never took it off for the entire four days, not even when sleeping. Wearing the top for nearly 100 hours straight made me realize that the Chinook stood out strongly in an otherwise boring sea of base layer tops.

The Chinook isn’t just a standard merino shirt meant to insulate and vent sweat in cold conditions like the other base layers in my pile. Thanks to clever, well-thought-out tailoring and design features, it’s a versatile, comfortable, and now essential piece of my outdoor kit.

To start, other base-layer tops tend to be hemmed like t-shirts, so when you raise your arms the shirt comes over your belly. The short hem on these shirts also tends to get pushed up by hip straps, so you’re constantly pulling the shirt back down. Thanks to a longer cut on the Chinook, I never had either of these problems. I also loved how it stayed tucked into my ski pants while skiing so I never got snow down my waistband.

Because it’s designed as a hunting layer, Stone Glacier offset the shoulder seams lower than normal so that they won’t rub your shoulders raw while carrying a heavy pack. This matters to backpackers and backcountry skiers as well, even if they carry less weight in their packs, since they haul those packs for long distances.

Stone Glacier chose a 17.5 micron merino wool, which is thick enough to work as your only layer when you’re huffing in temps near freezing. But it’s also thin enough to dump all your sweat and vent the majority of your excess heat. I’ve worn it as my only top layer when climbing up to a glassing point to look for animals and for dawn patrol at my local ski area.

Last month I wore the Chinook while climbing the 14,000-foot Handies Peak in Colorado, and it was the only top layer I needed for a full morning of hiking in temps ranging from 38 degrees up to above 50. Not having to stop to add or shed layers made the trip easier and significantly more enjoyable.

The Chinook isn’t the only base layer with a hood, but the hood is better than any other I’ve ever tested. Cut to snugly hug your head and cover your mouth when the front zipper is up, the Chinook hood is like a built-in balaclava. I regularly wear it under a ball cap while hiking and skiing to keep the sun off my face but not risk freezing my ears. It fits well under a ski helmet as well, and the face covering comes in handy when the wind is whipping and I need that extra bit of protection. The hood is so useful, in fact, that I often leave my beanie and neck tube at home, which means less gear to manage while out adventuring.

Finally, even after several hundred hours of use, the Chinook shows no signs of wearing out. Stone Glacier mixed the merino with a small amount of reinforcing nylon so I’ve been able to get it stuck on tree branches, grind it under backpack straps, and generally abuse the material without ever worrying that I was going to put holes in the fabric. I know the Chinook will eventually shred like my other gear, but when it does I’m sure I’ll remember it as clearly as my trusty purple anorak—and I’ll run out to buy a new one.