
Clothing
The Truth About Gloves
A no-nonsense guide to winter climbing gloves, exploring warmth, dexterity, durability, and the myth of waterproofness—plus practical strategies for staying functional in brutal conditions.
By Andy Kirkpatrick
November 9, 2008
Reading Time:07 minutes.
Warning: All of these articles are decades old, most written in the 1990s! Any references to gear are now seriously outdated, as are mentions of “state-of-the-art” techniques. They are included here because they still hold some value—some fundamentals of climbing never change.
The glove is the interface between you and your tools, and seeing as your tools are your interface between you and the climb, it’s of vital importance to get this right.
In a perfect world, gloves would keep you dry and warm in all conditions, be tough enough to last as long as your axes, and be so dexterous even brain surgeons would wear them. But if this were a perfect world, we’d all be like Sly Stallone and wouldn’t even need gloves.
Well, WAKE UP.
This is not a perfect world. This is the world of hot aches so bad it feels like boiling cola is running through your veins. Hands so numb you’ll pray for pain. Knuckles so torn and busted you’d rather do ten rounds with Mike Tyson than face another pitch.
This is the world of the winter glove. A world far removed from marketing bullshit, where words like “waterproof” and “shock-absorbing knuckles” are about as useful as the 50p life vests they stick under your seat on transatlantic flights.
In this world there are no answers, only compromises: painful control or hot dull pump, one-shot skimpiness or unwearable indestructibility. The choice is yours.
So instead of reviewing hundreds of gloves, I’m going to rant for a couple of thousand words. When I’m done, I hope newcomers will understand what’s possible, and those who’ve suffered will recognise some truth.
DEATH TO “WATERPROOFNESS”
When I worked in outdoor shops, people would ask if I could recommend a pair of waterproof gloves.
“Waterproof gloves?” I’d reply, adopting my thoughtful font-of-all-knowledge expression. “Rubber Marigolds,” I’d say. “That’s what you want.”
I’d add that the Italians used them on Cerro Torre, that they were cheap, lightweight, and photogenic in yellow. The usual response was the customer walking away shaking their head. A less common—but more worrying—response was: “Do you have them in my size?”
Why do people ask for waterproof gloves? To keep their hands dry? Are you insane? Have you ever been outdoors? It’s a war out there.
The only way to keep your hands dry is to buy a caravan.
You can buy 100% waterproof gloves, but all of them have one fatal design flaw: a damned great dirty hole where your hand goes in.
Water gets in. It always does. And once it’s in, anything designed to keep water out will keep it in. Your gloves fill up and stay that way until you can drain them—assuming you haven’t already worn holes in them.
This applies to all gloves: Gore-Tex, Sympatex, plastic-bag-tex. All the same.
So why insist on “waterproof” when gloves are mostly used in cold conditions where liquid water isn’t even the main problem?
I’m not against weather protection. Gloves need to stop wind and snow and slow insulation saturation. I just don’t think “waterproof” is the right goal.
The word creates unrealistic expectations, increases cost, bulk, and weight, and often makes gloves worse.
We need a new term.
That term is Virtual Dryness.
LONG LIVE VIRTUAL DRYNESS
Ask anyone why they like their gloves and they won’t say “because they’re waterproof.” They’ll say “because they keep my hands warm.”
What they really mean is that the gloves stay warm when wet—and therefore feel dry.
For years I used Buffalo mitts because they felt warmer and drier than full Gore mitts, especially when wet. Dachsteins achieved cult status for the same reason.
I’m talking about mitts because, even with modern fabrics, nothing beats them. Skin contact with the shell is minimal, finger-to-finger warmth is maximised, and skin dries faster than fabric.
Dryness isn’t about how dry gloves actually are—it’s about how dry they feel.
Low-density fabrics like fleece, pile, and wool achieve this best. Brushed fabrics wick moisture off the skin quickly, warming both skin and fabric.
Ignore “waterproof.” Ask how dry gloves will feel.
GLOVE AND MITT STYLES
Fleece Gloves and Liners
These range from ultra-light liners to full-weight fleece gloves. The best by far are Powerstretch models, both alone and as liners.
Powerstretch keeps hands warm when wet, wicks moisture, and dries faster than a French alpinist on a north face.
Ski Gloves
Some climbing ski gloves work well. They’re warm, cheap, and reasonably dexterous. Avoid models with loose liners or unreinforced fingertips.
Technical Shell Gloves
Waterproof shells with thin brushed linings work best over Powerstretch gloves. Trim, simple, and effective.
Modular Gloves
Breathable shells with removable liners. Often too bulky with liners fitted. Fit is critical and many don’t fit most climbers.
Fleece Mitts
Cheap, light, compact, and surprisingly effective as backups.
Ski Mitts
Hollow-fibre mitts are cheap and warm, perform well when wet, but are slippery and awkward to climb in.
Modular Mitts
The warmest option available. Often too thick. Wearing shells alone over gloves can be very effective.
DURABILITY EXPECTATIONS AND PRICE
Winter climbing destroys gloves. £100 gloves die as fast as cheap ones.
Tough gloves climb badly. Sensitive gloves die quickly. Fingertips and thumb crooks are the main failure points.
Reinforce early. Repair often. Balance cost, performance, and lifespan.
ROCK-HARD DEXTERITY
Thin gloves work because you tolerate agony. Dexterity requires sacrificing insulation and durability.
Some climbers go so thin they lose all feeling anyway.
Alternatives
- Rotate several fleece gloves.
- Use wrist-overs to reduce heat loss.
- Wear fleece mitts for warmth and speed.
- Use Powershield gloves for technical climbing.
GLOVE STRATEGY
The Approach
Walk in liners or bare hands. Start climbs with dry gloves.
The Climb
Carry multiple pairs. Always keep a spare. Frozen gloves go under your arms to warm.
Descent and Emergencies
Always carry mitts. When things go wrong, you’ll be glad you did.
There are many good gloves, but no perfect ones. The only way to find what works is to experiment.
Think flexibly. Ignore marketing. Stay adaptable.
Note: If you’ve got a system that works, I’d like to hear about it.
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