L.L. Bean Classic Ragg Wool Sweater: Tested Tough

The sweater was one of those afterthought Christmas gifts, purchased by my mother because she didn’t know what else to buy, and viewed with horror by my wife, who said it looked like something Uncle Buck would wear. It sat for years, forgotten in a dresser drawer until, one trapping season, I pulled it out and said, “Michelle, where did this awesome wool sweater come from?”

“Your mom bought it for you for Christmas years ago,” she said. “I’ve hidden it for your own good ever since.”

I pulled the sweater on regardless, and by that evening, once it smelled faintly of beaver castor and red fox piss, I knew that I’d found my new favorite garment for hunting, trapping and general cold-weather kicking-around.

As modern hunting clothing goes, there is absolutely nothing notable about the sweater. There’s no camo or Gore-Tex or wind-resistant shell. Cockle burrs stick to it like malnourished ticks. It’s not especially lightweight, nor is it waterproof, and it costs less than $100, which may be what separates it from everything else most of all. I didn’t even know what brand the sweater was until I looked at the tag and discovered that it’s an L.L. Bean Classic Ragg Wool.

The Bells and Silent Whistles

But the sweater is quiet, comfortable, and incredibly warm—traits that happen to be pretty useful to people like us, and also come as no surprise to hunters who’ve always depended on wool. I use the sweater as an indispensable layer underneath wind-proof outer layers during cold sits in treestands and duck blinds. It’s a primary outer garment for more active pursuits like running a trapline, and I carried it into the Rockies with me for elk last fall. Simply put, I don’t get cold when I have this sweater on, and it allows me to dress in fewer layers underneath.

I don’t run it through the washing machine, which means the sweater always smells a bit like a coyote—although, being wool, it doesn’t stink too bad, even when it’s at its worst. Even so, after wearing it for weeks on end, it does eventually get so filthy that I must hand-wash it in a sink of hot water and then dry it on a hanger in the sun.

Of all the hunting clothes I own, this sweater is something that I reach for anytime the chill drops into the 30s or lower. And after years of wearing it, it’s not lost a single button, or even had a thread unravel. I like it so much that last season I bought another one just like it, except in green. Eventually I may amass a whole drawer full of them in various colors—they are relatively inexpensive, after all—so as to be able to keep a few of them clean and presentable enough to wear in public when it’s cold. I know my wife will be thrilled, my mother will be touched and I’ll be plenty warm.

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