A Lament for the Classic Canteen

One could blame it on the backpack, which was perhaps the first outdoor item to go “townie,” or maybe those duck boots that were so popular for a while. But the most egregious casualty in our inexorable slide toward becoming a nation of ersatz sports fiends and happy campers is the canteen. Once the salvation of cyclists, sports squeeze bottles and their spinoffs are the latest social security blanket--an Angeleno might forget her wallet, but she’d never forget her water bottle.

Which is not in and of itself a crime--who can argue with good hydration?--until you consider what it has replaced: the canteen.

For those of us who never served in a war, the canteen is an icon of youthful adventure. Slope-shouldered and clad in olive drab, it was topped with a black cap attached by a small metal chain. The chain clinked softly when you walked, a specific, unmusical sound, capable of conjuring a stomach-tightening excitement usually associated with summer. Because it was the clink of a canteen, and a canteen meant a quest. Be it a sunlit prowl through a neighboring cornfield, a determined running-away-from-home that ended up behind your father’s car or a bona fide camping trip, one did not leave on any journey of significance without a full canteen.

And when was the last time you saw one?

“We sell a few,” said Rob Anderson, general manager of Adventure 16, an outdoor specialty store in West Los Angeles. “But it is really a nostalgia item, just for fun.”

Even kids have turned their backs.

“The canteen is a thing of the past,” said Steve Marcy, scoutmaster of Boy Scout Troop 2 in Santa Monica for 12 years. “The kids have been carrying water bottles since before I started. They are much easier to back, they slide right in the pockets of any backpack.”

“Oh, I remember those canteens, they were great. Especially the ones with the plaid covers,” said Katy McCollum, leader of Brownie Troop 656 in La Canada. “But now it’s completely water bottles.”

Water bottles, in every shape and color, and water bottle carriers--from a simple nylon net sling to multiple bottle-accommodating fanny and backpacks--have in fact become as much fashion accessory as adventure necessity.

“It is really scary how many types of them there are,” says Anderson. “We’ve got about 15 or 20.”

Add to that the latest potable totes: hydration systems. Plastic bladders equipped with a long plastic hose topped with a bite valve, these babies make it possible to carry larger quantities of water farther, and to drink it while you hike, walk or just talk on your cell phone.

“Most of our customers looking at hydration systems are experienced hikers who are contemplating long or strenuous hikes,” says Anderson, “but some people just think they’re fun. My 6-year-old loves drinking from the hose.”

A hose. How can a plastic hose replace the canteen? The musty sun-warmed canvas smell of the canteen’s cover, the cold clatter against your teeth as you drank, the metallic tang of the water, and the necessity of a backhand wipe of the upper lip afterward. The ritual of the canteen swig put you in the company of John Wayne and Audie Murphy, made you feel self-sufficient and capable, made it clear that you were roughing it.

But in the past few years, the line between the gear you need to navigate the outdoor wilderness and the stuff you carry while negotiating the urban wilderness has blurred considerably. It’s not just the canteen that has morphed into something that your mom could take to the office.

Backpacks are now apparently issued to every American at birth--the traditional daypack has been modified to replace every sort of tote from the diaper bag to the briefcase. The Swiss Army knife, and the firm’s line of super-resilient watches, have become a hot gift item, even for folks who define “roughing it” as a hotel suite without towel warmers.

The sporting life has always informed the fashion pages, but last year’s explosion of polar fleece, and in Southern California no less, was a bit amazing. For years now, Teva sandals, the river rafter’s footwear of choice, now pad the lengths of malls and living rooms everywhere, while hiking boots are de rigueur for the ubiquitous casual Friday.

“Convertible shorts are very popular now,” said Robert Ramos, a camping salesman at REI in Manhattan Beach, describing pants that detach just above the knee. “When you’re backpacking, these are great for changes in temperature. And people have used them for travel a lot. But lately I see people in them just walking around town.”

Mountaineering glasses, he adds, are another recent crossover item. Designed for high altitude and snow reflection, they are now showing up at the beach.

Walk down any city street and you will be swept into a sea of wide-brimmed hats, cotton wear with “wicking” capabilities, entire wardrobes of easy-care travel wear, and, of course, the ubiquitous cargo shorts and pants. According to Adventure 16’s Anderson, one latest must-have is the GPS, (Global Pacific Satellite), a high-tech directional device designed for ocean navigators and now used by palm-pilot adventurers. Another is portable water filters.

“Everyone is buying water filters,” said Ramos, “especially when they travel.”

All of this wilderness-readiness might make sense if we were a nation of desert nomads. In this Age of Aquarius.com, when digital has all but replaced democratic as the primary descriptive for our society, however, it seems a bit odd that we are all walking around as if we might dart off on an Outward Bound expedition at any moment.

“People want to be self-sufficient,” said Ramos. “They want to be prepared for anything. They don’t trust anyone to stop and help them. Which is sad to say. And these are products that work well and last.”

Life in Los Angeles, added Anderson, has always required a certain emergency-preparedness.

So maybe the knives and the shorts and packs and the sandals are indeed useful, but it’s their symbolism--as daily promises of adventure or talismans guarding against the grind--that make them so appealing. It is a jungle out here, but we are prepared, we are stalwart and brave, our water bottles are full and we are ready for anything.

The slap of a river-rafting sandal on gritty pavement may not be as thrilling the tell-tale clink of the canteen chain, but it will have to do.