Forcing your goose-pimpled body back into a clammy wetsuit for a second or third time has traditionally been the worst five minutes of an otherwise glorious multidive day. Just getting in can seem like an exercise in tantric yoga, while the moisture in the neoprene robs your body of precious heat moments before you get back in the water. Henderson's new Gold Core Jumpsuit ($290 for the 3 mm; 856-825-4771; www.hendersonusa.com) eliminates such undignified struggles, keeps you warmer, and addresses a notorious problem that has traditionally given the sport of diving a bad odor: stinky wetsuits.

The innovation is an easy-slide interior coating, a new—and zealously guarded—polyurethane-based finishing process to which Henderson has exclusive U.S. and European rights. The smooth, gold-hued coating, secreted under a stylishly simple basic-black exterior, makes the suit slide on like an old pair of Levi's (consider special-ordering arm and leg zippers—$50 extra—for the ultimate easy-on frog suit). Once donned, the material hugs your skin, letting in less water than a normal suit and reducing heat loss. More important, the coating permeates the neoprene so it won't absorb water, letting it dry out quickly between dives. My 3 mm suit dried in five minutes, compared to the typical 90-minute wait—an innovation that can make those infamously chilly second dives downright cozy.

And because the lining's quick-dry impermeability prevents foul water, urine, and microorganisms from festering in the material, your suit won't smell like a dead goat—a welcome, odor-combating feature for both types of divers: those who occasionally pee in their wetsuits, and those who lie about it. —SUSAN ENFIELD

Your grandfather called it his dopp kit. The marketers at The Territory Ahead call theirs a Safari Shave Kit ($78, 800-882-4323). Whatever. While the pebbled-leather exterior and canvas interior do conjure images of first light in Kenya, the Safari Kit is just as pragmatic at the Jersey City Best Western. Brass snaps impart a utilitarian elegance, and its hook hangs as easily from a bathroom door as from the branches of a baobab tree. Four pouches cradle the travel necessities of any generation—soap, pomade, quinine pills—while two flaps protect your razor and shaving brush. There's even a pouch for your spectacles. Unfurled, the Kit measures ten by 18 inches. To stow, simply fold it up and hook the leather thongs over the brass studs. Safari not included. —JAMES ZUG

Light is right in any uphill venture, but in mountaineering shaving ounces translates to faster climbing; reducing exposure to avalanches and rockfall often makes the difference between a night spent in base camp or a night spent looking for base camp. In the past, climbers have gone to ridiculous lengths to trim every last ounce of excess: snipping labels from clothing, cutting handles from toothbrushes, and wearing the same underwear for weeks. But since the modern minimalist design was perfected, there hasn't really been any way to trim the weight of an ice ax. Enter the Altai from Ushba ($225; 801-954-0741; www.ushba.com), the first all-titanium ice ax available commercially.

With a choice of shaft lengths from 55 to 80 cm, and weighing in at slightly more than 13 ounces (in the 65 cm length), the Altai has just 60 percent of the heft of a standard steel mountaineering ax. It's also twice the price, but it's titanium after all: impervious to corrosion, resistant to metal fatigue, and, of course, light. Like all mountaineering axes, it's designed for negotiating alpine routes such as Denali's West Buttress in the "French technique"—planting the spike like a walking stick—not for climbing frozen waterfalls, where you need shorter, heavier tools.

Still, every ax needs to perform on the occasional pitch of technical ice. So I put the Altai to the test on a frozen waterfall in New Hampshire, wondering if the pick would penetrate with so little weight behind the head. Happily, the tool passed, offering a comfortable, well-balanced swing. The pick is admirably sharp, displacing ice rather than shattering it, and its classic "droop" shape minimizes shearing and acts like a hook in hard-packed snow, an attribute you'll appreciate when trying to self-arrest. On the other side is an adze for chopping steps and clearing rotten ice for screws. The head is welded directly to the shaft, so if the pick breaks, the tool is ruined. But that's unlikely; I hammered the Altai into ice, turf, and rock, and it came through with nary a scratch. It's titanium after all. —MARK SYNNOTT

In September, Mark Synnott joins a team attempting a new route on Jannu in Nepal.