Defiant Sloth

An impromptu thought earlier last week: let’s visit Winona and check out a coffee shop that is up for sale near the campus. Which campus, we had no idea. We also didn’t know anything about Winona (though apparently the nation’s capitol of stained glass windows, okay). I knew it was down the river near La Crosse (where we had stayed a number of times on the way to Madison going back and forth for Ashley’s grad school), but… we’d never stopped here before.

So we saddled up a room at the Fairfield and headed down Saturday morning — predictably enough, right after a spring blizzard left the roads in absolute shit condition.

Winona is about a two hour drive southeast of the Twin Cities, smack on the Mississippi River (literally looks like an isthmus or island city), buttressed by the craggy hills that ride the water on either size of the Minnesota and Wisconsin border. Which creates a kind of off-kilter valley vibe.

And what a vibe this city is. It’s like one big pseudo-city neighborhood, about 20k in population strong (plus however many attend the three colleges scattered around its geography). An initial drive through the streets gives the impression of a small, rural mill town with a barely-hanging on downtown, but also energized by young collegiate folks marauding around town and keeping the bars up late into the night. Something felt strange about the whole place — it wasn’t as tightly centered as Red Wing, not quite as pretty as La Crosse, or as quaint as Northfield. It felt blasé. Maybe in a good way.

I’ll say this, though — they’ve got some gems here. Notably, one of the Winona State University parking lots has a solar panel yard atop it, the first we’ve seen in the states. Definitely the future — it shades the cars underneath and provides a wide berth for getting perfectly sun-drenched and powering whatever its connected to.

I indulged the afternoon at Island City Brewing, sipping a beer and reading a book outside on a park bench. Also walked the dog along a few avenues and paraded around an inland park for a while before she tired.

Ashley and I then dinner-dined at Nosh Scratch Kitchen, which was… fine — dimly lit, wild Mediterranean dishes, good bar. It adequately set up the night. Afterwards, we slinked into Gabby’s, which immediately made clear it was the de facto college bar. We slammed one drink each and left.

Then… it was to Broken World Records. A gamble. But what a place. Tiled overhang with lanterns above a ground-level bar, pulsing vibe lights, live band, locals nursing beers. Attitude. It was here that we settled into a few drinks and a shot and enjoyed the drama.

Next day wasn’t as kind of this place. The Lakeview Drive Inn was brutally terrible. Microwaved burger. Mushy fries. But great drive-up car service.

The heralded Blue Heron coffee and breakfast spot had the worst burnt latte we’ve ever had, and the peanut butter-topped chocolate cake was extraordinarily dry. We ate the frosting.

Mugby Coffee (the place that is for sale, or so we surmised from the commercial real estate description), was good, though. Nitro coffee, adequate. Latte, significantly better than Blue Heron. Plenty of space to stretch out.

Aside from a nice walk along the industrial river walk (Levee Park) with the dog to wrap things up, that’s about it.

We also didn’t see a single stained glass window. 🤷‍♂️

🔗 Concerning piece by Fionn Pooler on “coffeewashing” practices in the industry. A Short Introduction to Coffeewashing - by Fionn Pooler

It's been 21 years since I played the original Metroid Prime, released on the purple-clad Gamecube back when I was, what, a junior in high school?

Eons ago.

When Nintendo dropped a remastered version of it for Switch this past month (unexpectedly, I hear?), it wasn't an instant purchase. I had fond memories of the original (its SNES predecessor, Super Metroid, is my definitive favorite game experience), and the Gamecube version built an exceptional three-dimensional vision for its universe that at once respected the source material and paved a new, albeit different path, for the franchise. I remember it being fairly long (compared to speed running Super Metroid in ~two hours), and recent nostalgia trips haven't been rewarding...

• Baldur's Gate was a charming return a few years back, but not as magical or as narratively complex as I remembered the original experience
• Super Mario Sunshine re-release was better than I remembered, but also wasn't interesting enough (and dragged down in antiquity) to spend more than a few hours playing around
• Zelda: Ocarina of Time was a slog, and while an inventive experience, the mechanics felt dated and, you know, those N64 graphics just never did it for me
• System Shock 2, forever holding a place in my heart as a thrilling inventory-heavy spaceship horror show, was unfortunately a stale replay experience

Anyway, the siren song of Metroid couldn't be resisted, and I ended up getting Metroid Prime Remastered a week ago. I played the shit out of it, finishing in less than a couple days. It was as remarkable as it was during its first play through, the updated resolution and graphics seamlessly blended in -- like this was how it was meant to be seen on far less adequate hardware -- and the gameplay mechanics haven't missed a beat. Partially why this game works so well is probably the depth of music, sound design, and gameplay weave so well into the very detailed environments, that it feels forever like a perfect Nintendo package.

Of note, the environments (which I don't think were updated significantly beyond their resolution and textures) continue to look like something built in a modern game. I always remembered how different the experience felt back in 2002 -- there were massive vines cracked through walls and strewn about on the ground, pollen and moisture in the air (hitting and steaming up your helmet visor), organic and insectoid creatures moving about between environs, broken debris and spherical/non-blocky objects and walls everywhere that created a much tighter, believable vision for the world -- these all may sound obvious in 2023, but they were so far ahead of its time (especially on console hardware), that it's hard to explain how natural the game still looks and feels 21 years later.

In short: the game is incredible and stands the test of time.

A “short” review of the best pizza place in the Twin Cities

Parked on a worthy block at the corner of Nicollet and E 38th sits an Argentinian pizzeria called Boludo. It’s flanked by Five Watt (if you need coffee) and Fine Meats (if you need meat). But if you want pizza, Boludo is the place.

I don’t live in Minneapolis, but I do live in St. Paul. The problem with living across the river from Minneapolis is delivery services – sometimes they just don’t deliver over here, and sometimes they do. Regardless, in the hopes of trying to wean myself off a reliance of DoorDash to mitigate restaurants needing to pay their ecosystem fees, I decided to pick this Boludo order up myself. Who better to trust.

When I arrive at Boludo (from which I’ve ordered delivery before, but never stepped foot in), I see that the interior of the place is small and utilitarian. A row of hightop chairs against a window table shelf, a few small tables, an open-air fridge with beverages in the corner, and an ordering counter. They also keep pre-made empanadas in a glass display, which is cool. Very bakery-like.

Anyway, this is a review of the food, not the location. It takes less than a minute to announce myself and take my pick up order.

Back in St. Paul, I heat up the oven. I know, it’s probably not purist of me to do this, but I like my pizza warm when I’m getting it fresh. I use a carbon steel pan to heat up a few slices for a couple of minutes, while also dropping some cheese to my dog’s bowl, because she should be able to enjoy this as much as me. Right.

First, I eat the empanada I ordered as a companion to the main feast. I chose what they call the Carne. It’s a buttery soft (but not that buttery, I don’t even know if they use butter in the dough) encasing of beef picadillo, ají molido, and olives. Yes, this sounds like my kind of order. It also comes with a ramekin of chimichurri, so yes, this will be good. And it is. The mix is a perfectly umami, meat-wet amalgamation, and when dipped in chimichurri, the zing of olive oil, cilantro, and pepper elevate it even further. Let’s be honest, anything with chimichurri is going to be good. Anything. Especially an empanada. But the empanada can stand on its own, too.

Okay, moving on to the pizza. I got the Pepperoni Pizza because I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to order my favorite pizza. My favorite, simple ingredient pizza. I mean, look at those pepperonis. If you see them cupping grease like that, you’ve made the right choice.

Now, I’ve had this pizza before. It’s good every time. I think it actually might get better every time.

But first… just look at that pizza. It’s got a hell of a shape. Kind of like a horizontally-stretched quadrilateral. I don’t know why it’s like this. But it’s no matter, because it’s sliced in a way that makes sense and provides tangible pieces to eat (you probably get four good-sized slices out of this). For context, it’s a perfect size for two people who also might be eating an empanada or salad with it. Or for one very hungry person. After I gave it a little heat-up, I dug in and enjoyed every, single, bite. The sauce is amazing – a bright, light San Marzano tomato spread that sits right under a thinly shredded smattering of mozzarella. And I don’t mean a thin amount of cheese – there is a generous portion lopped on the base, but you can see the shredded pieces of mozzarella flung around the box and hanging off the sides of the crust. It’s a masterpiece of design. Lastly, atop the throne, are those small, curled pucks of pepperoni. Grease reservoirs in the best way. No, I’m not patting this down with a napkin – I’m eating it all.

The first few bites reaffirm why this pizza is great – sweet, but not acidic; the soft, precious crust looks charred but tastes like clouds; the cheese apparently isn’t a blend, but fools me into thinking there are ten different shades of mozzarellas immaculately tossed together; and, of course, the pepperoni just seals the flavor trap. A trifecta of genius.

Chef Facundo DeFraia, who according to the Boludo website, spent time in Buenos Aires learning the cooking trade in his grandmother’s kitchen. Whatever time he spent there is now yielding unfathomable joy from anyone who consumes his dishes. He also helped his friend open Martina, whose sister shop next door is also a very, very good pizza spot called Rosalia. They’re all top tier, and I’d have difficulty casting a vote for either Rosalia or Boludo as the king of pizza in the Twin Cities (but there are so many other contenders… I just won’t go there).

Recommended if you live here or are in the area.

Yeah, we’ve all been wondering about this. They are terribly annoying. racketmn.com/why-are-b…

A short appreciation post to one of the best (well, the best) local monthly meal-delivery service out there: Paris Dining Club. It’s a lovely three-course meal you get once a month, but instead of dining out, you’re dining in, and you can do in your PJs while easily preparing chef Jamie Malone’s excellent French-inspired cuisine.

Pictured here is this past month’s first course, a hearts of palm salad (including tangerine supremes, shrimp mousseline, fried shallots, and a rambunctiously citrus vinaigrette). It complemented the main dish (lobster with macaroni gratin) really nicely. I think we ended up pairing this all with martinis.

One of the nice bonuses you get with each box is a local collaboration – for this one, it was a really swank pineapple/lemon/lime/salt/serrano/vanilla mix (to be whipped in a shaker with tequila, natch) from Steady Pour Beverage Co.

Anyway, we’re enjoying this. It’s a fun nice dinner out (but in) to look forward to every third week of the month, no reservations required. Light up some candles, set up the table, and unpack / cook it up in usually less than 20 mins while sipping a wine. It’s nice. I recommend.

Amusing to see EDC land on A1 of the WSJ.

The dangers of industrial capture by the private market could spell a slow progression for nonprofits and government orgs. As noted in FT’s piece, the massive over-indexing of investment in this space compared to public sectors can de-incentivize and disable the ability to use AI for societal, environmental, and infrastructure purposes that would be invested in and explored by the government.

While I am not against the proliferation of private markets’ usage and maturation of the tech, it will undoubtably be in the service of monetization (how else can they achieve returns on the $100+bn investment last year alone?), and models developed may not necessarily be useable for the purposes of advancing non-private agendas, slowing or preventing innovations that are possible here.

Assuming he’s actually going to do this… it’s a very thoughtful (and obvious) measure to take as a CEO:

Mr. Narasimhan said he plans to regularly work alongside baristas in cafes to understand why it sometimes is so aggravating to get a customer a simple cup of coffee. He intends to work four hours in a different Starbucks store each month and expects his senior leaders to do the same.

Heggies, the GOAT.

Dave Winer has the right read on the ChatGPT situation.

Another generation of every information app on the net, and that’s more or less the whole net. A top-to-bottom rewrite.

Impressive to see.

“It got denied 100 percent by every county commissioner that was on the board– so that was the end of it,”

Morgan votes down Dollar General’s permit to build - kare11.com

Riveting analysis and perspective on idlewords.com (aka the Pinboard guy) as to why we shouldn’t send humans to Mars, but rather save money, turmoil, and blood, and send robots instead.

Quite satisfied with this post-dinner haul from Trader Joe’s for the hotel tonight. Twist-top bottle for wine is the trick.

Here I go again with another post on zipper pulls.

Why is it I find these things fascinating? First, it helps that I love bags, their design, and the joy they bring in usage (traveling in any form). While some folks derive additional joy out of tweaking, optimizing, and maintaining their hardware (computers, automobiles, homes, et al), bags don't inherently have a lot of maintenance or tinkering, at least not intrinsically.

So naturally, one of the easiest ways to customize and add incremental user interfaces to a bag is through its zipper pulls. I first got into the habit (itch?) for this back when I had my first truly quality bag (Goruck's GR1). Since then, I've bought several other bags/accessories from great manufacturers like Tom Bihn, Aer, Peak Design, and Evergoods, and tinkered with zipper pulls on every one of them. It's fun, it's a way to putz around, and find some enjoyment out of configuring.

Modifying zipper pulls isn't difficult, either, and the zipper doesn't even need to have a proper slider tab to do it (the typical "pull" for the zipper). Goruck famously removes the tabs and uses heat wax over paracord for a silent zipper pull mechanism that is still one of the best implementations in the industry. If you think about metal zipper pulls on some bags/suitcases, they can be loud and annoyingly jingle every time you move the bag -- Goruck's method, or having a non-metal zipper pull threaded through a zipper tab, can help mitigate the noise or entirely dampen the noise.

Anyway, if you're looking for something incredibly mundane but somehow gratifying to freshen up your bags, this is a good way to go about it!

A little bit of serenity taking a break from the throes of winter back in MN.

As a hot sauce madman, this incredible report of a stranded sea survivor has me brimming with new found respect for the household ketchup.

You love to see the ambition here… surfing in the dead cold of winter on Duluth’s Lake Superior shore.

Stepping through mirrors for short-distance transportation? Count me in.

After just forty pages, I’m tremendously enjoying this first entry in the Mirror Visitor series 📚 by Christelle Dabos.

Haven’t watched the show yet, but I wish there was more coverage on the production of these television series – here’s The Verge’s quick bit on Production Designer Mava Sigel’s involvement with Apple TV Plus' Hello Tomorrow.

Really love this piece from the lead developer of NetNewsWire:

If we took money, even a little bit, I’d want to change all that. I’d file with the state of Washington, set up a bank account, start keeping track of income and expenses, separate NetNewsWire stuff from my stuff, start paying taxes. This would take up time I could have spent working on NetNewsWire itself. And I’d hate it.

So that’s problem one. Problem two would be — who gets the money? After we take out $10 a month for expenses, where does the excess go? There are a bunch of people who spend lots of hours every month working on the app — how would we divvy up the money we get? I can’t think of a fair way.

Is the third time the charm?

Resuscitating this microblog one more time to meet my sincere ambition to write more frequently. I’ve also decided to pause any further writing on my Squarespace-powered primary site, and use Micro.blog as the vessel. It’s much leaner, works with iA Writer (which is still my go-to writing platform on the Mac for more than a decade), and has integration with Mastadon (the replacement to Twitter, as all signs seem to point to).

And while I’ll keep my Squarespace account, as it’s a pain to migrate off it without serious work to redirect to new URL locations for historic content, I really don’t advocate for anyone to us it for publishing written work – it’s a great platform for businesses, photographers, and creatives, but is a poor substitute for anything else.

This is my first go at making kimchi, the beloved Korean use-everywhere fermented cabbage dish. I like it spicy. Very spicy. And that's what I attempted here without much knowledge or craft experience in the space of fermenting.

Actually, I have zero experience.

So pulling off a great batch of kimchi sounded appealing and challenging -- the selective choices in ingredients, the ability to tweak the recipe to the right spice levels, and of course, the sense of accomplishment. These are all great reasons to try it, or so I told myself six days ago.

Astonishingly, I was able to pull this off.

Getting the Ingredients

This was a fairly straightforward operation, but I was lazy on a number of things.

First things first, I needed to build the "kimchi paste", the base layer. I could have been really disingenuous and bought a bottle of kimchi paste online somewhere, but I wanted to "customize" my own, so I went to the nearby Dragon Star Oriental Foods grocery store to find some powdered chili peppers. Since I am so accustomed to finding things myself online, and because I couldn't actually find anyone who worked at the store, I marauded around the chili and condiments aisles hunting for Korean Gochugaru. I couldn't find it, so I found a few chili packets that looked spicy and I had used in a Bloody Mary mix a few years ago. That's probably fine, I told myself. This is an experiment.

For non-kimchi activities, I also picked up some frozen wontons and reloaded on chili sauce. And a few hot sauces. And also some Japanese spicy salt. Something is wrong with me.

I then picked up plain old cabbage (couldn't find Napa cabbage at this or the other grocery store), amd also green onion, ginger, garlic, and daikon radish.

Yes, I was following a recipe from a Fermenting book.

No, I wasn't weighing anything I was buying.

Yes, I misfired on the amount of ingredients. Yes, you guessed right: I didn't get enough cabbage.

Building the Kimchi

I was excited to use the food blender to make the paste. It a was a nice looking attachment to a blender system we got a while back, but never got around to using. After throwing all the kimchi paste ingredients into the blender, it took all of three seconds to whip it into perfect harmony. So that was short-lived.

I then carefully cut and threw into a large bowl all the other kimchi primary materials, including the ratio-adjusted paste (after realizing my cabbage was about a third of what I needed), and used some gloves to mix and squeeze and mash everything together. This was fun.

And that was basically it.

I put the amalgamation into a half-gallon Balls jar and screwed a fermenting lid on, then put it downstairs next to all the booze, and waited.

Waiting to Taste the Kimchi

Specifically, I waited six days. I didn't touch the jar, but I did pass by it a few times when going downstairs, and it had a light, funky emanating smell.

I checked it a few times for bubbling (which was happening), and for mold (which was not happening).

I was pleased with how it had been progressing.

How the Kimchi Turned Out

On the sixth day, I opened the container, sniffed the rich, soggy, spicy cabbage odor, and snagged a spoon out of the drawer to taste my creation.

It was potent. It was spicy. It was tangy. It was, through and through, a fairly good tasting kimchi. Not correctly made by any means, as I took shortcuts, but I'm quite pleased with a first trial run of making it at home. Would I gather the right amount of ingredients, including the correct Korean chilis next time? Yes. Would I do anything else differently? No.

Would I recommend making at home? Yes. This is far less expensive than buying the stuff I usually do, even though I need to try and dial in the flavor profile. But the canvas for modifying and adjusting ingredients is wide, and I'm already plotting my next version.

You have to love the Tom Bihn brand of bags and accessories. They make a great portfolio of products here in the USA (Seattle), all produced with a high level of quality, thoughtful design, material options, many many colors, and, of course, have the brilliant O-ring connected ecosystem.

One of their products shines in its utilitarian genius: the Zip-Top Shop Bag. Like you, I've tried a dozen shop totes that either cost me a couple bucks or were handed out free at some event/magazine subscription. I absolutely advocate for deploying re-usable bags for shopping of any kind. But the bag has to be good to be usable. And most tote bags are complete shit. The Zip-Top Shop Bag is not shit. In fact, it is the best tote bag ever made.

The biggest issue most generic tote bags have is the handle. This critical feature of the bag is often the most poorly designed part of the bag. So often are companies fixated on having their logo or some kind of visual slapped on the side of the bag that they forget you're actually going to be using the bag to tote items around from their store (or other stores). Oftentimes you're loading things into this bag, and then commuting with it a short distance back to your car, or a longer distance on a bus or bike. Thus, the handle needs to be comfortable at all times. It shouldn't dig into your palms like it wants to cut them off when you've aptly used the bag and stuffed it full of groceries. It shouldn't feel flimsy, like it's going to shred off its stitches if the load is too much for its inadequately-constructed purpose. It should work like a dream.

You know what works like a dream? The Tom Bihn Zip-Top Shop Bag. Just look at those handles. They are C-U-S-H-I-O-N-E-D. Brilliant idea. Why did no else thing of that? I wish I knew. Most don't care about your enjoyment or ease of use in toting their tote bag around. But Tom Bihn cares. It cares so much that it designed one of the best handles ever made for a bag. What's crazy is that Tom Bihn pitches the bag with the following, simple bullet-point:

"Has comfortable padded handles"

What an understatement. What modesty. This bag's handles do not disappoint in anyway. No matter the load, it feels like you're holding air -- it does some kind of magic in making you feel like the weight is lessened, and you could carry it forever. I would score them a perfect rating. For the purposes of a tote bag, look no further -- the Zip-Top Shop Bag is the best one on the market.

Okay, Aside from the Handle?

What else is great about it? It has a plethora of other amazing features that elevate it to god-like status.

• Zip-top: Obvious, but important to note. This bag zips with a slick pair of YKK zippers centered perfectly at the top of the bag. So you can enclose things in there. It's nice. Also worth noting is a slightly cheaper version of the is bag, called the Original Shop Bag, that does not come with a zipper. But it has the handles!
• Interior Pockets: Kind of important. Maybe. Depends on how or if you care to use them. Two deep pockets line the interior sides of the tote. Nice to have.
• O-Rings: It's got two of them, right under the zipper line inside the bag. The O-Ring ecosystem is great -- you can clip damn near anything to these things, like your keys! or a carabiner!, and Tom Bihn has a plethora of little accessories that natively clip in as well. Endlessly useful.
• You Can Shoulder It: Yeah, the handles are awesome. But Tom Bihn also engineered this bag to fit perfectly on your shoulder. So you have two carry styles: holding it with the handles (and even holding the handles, the bag hovers above the ground), or toss it on your shoulder. It fits nice and snug. Comfortable.
• Materials: Lastly, the material options for this bag are fantastic. Like most of their other bags, Tom Bihn usually offers several materials options when selecting your bag, in addition to a dizzying array of colors. I've seen the Shop Bag featured in several classic Tom Bihn materials, including Cerylon, Cotton Twill, 1000 Cordura, Ruff Stuff, Textured Nylon, and Ballistic. As with most of their products, much of your choice will depend on availability or whether they're doing another production run. I can vouch that this bag rules in both cerylon and ballistic.

So those are the main features of the Zip-Top Shop Bag. It's the best tote bag on the market. Buy one if you truly want to give those other incompetent tote bags a rest, and have this truly be the last tote bag you own. That way, you can finally stop collecting random ones that end up in a landfill.

I picked up Aer's flagship product, the Travel Pack 2, last year in preparation of work travel ramping up (note - that link goes to the just-released Travel Pack 3, as they just retired their second version of this bag). Nearly two years into the pandemic, but with waning restrictions (alas, pre-Omicron thinking at the time), I figured I'd want an even more streamlined travel operation than I had prior (usually my Evergoods CPL24 paired with a Goruck Kit, or if I'm ambitious, just the Evergoods CPL24).

As usual, I spent an inordinate amount of time researching my options — and there are a shocking number of options. No longer is the technical material/hardcore design/one-bagging niche a small industry anymore; from my pattern of research, it's massive. There are dedicated bloggers/vloggers, endless kickstarter projects or post-kickstart projects that grew into huge successes, there are niches within niches, and there is shortage of intricate viewpoints on what the preferred array of attributes should be, from size, capacity, opening style, pocket placement, zipper pulls, weight, shoulder strap padding, grab handles/locations, on and on, it's overwhelming. I knew this. You probably knew this. But I continued to research anyway.

Good news, I have a few perspectives on this subject, and in particular, the subject of this review — I selected the Aer Travel Pack 2. Curiously enough, about 6 months later, I'm selling this bag to double-down on the Evergoods CPL version 2, but let me not get ahead of myself. The Aer Travel Pack 2 is an excellent, satisfying choice for being a de facto one bag solution for travel. Let me tell you why.

Capacity

At 33 liters, this is a few liters short of many similar-sized "carry on" backpacks in the space. Usually you see 35L or 40L. 45L seemed to large, and even 40L was pushing it. 33L is a sweet spot. If you can't set yourself up for a week's travel within the confines of 33-35 liters, you're doing it wrong.

I comfortably fit two loaded Tom Bihn shoulder bag packing cubes, a Peak Design small travel cube, Tom Bihn grab bag (for toiletries), a tech kit, extra batteries, notebook, hardcover book, MacBook Pro, and iPad 11 in in there without a problem, and had plenty of room to cinch the bag with its compression straps. This is my usual 3-4 day load out for work travel or personal travel (in autumn/winter months, given weather conditions), so if it can be accomplished in the bag, we're good. As part of this experiment in using this larger bag, I also had been packing a Tom Bihn briefcase rolled up so I could deploy as my laptop bag upon arrival. This system works well, since you do not want to lug the Aer around as your daily bag upon your destination — it's too big for that.

Material & Build Quality

This is an Aer bag, so you likely know what to expect if you've seen or used their hardware before. It's a very sleek, slick, tough ballistic nylon exterior that deflects lint, pet hair, and debris of any kind. Inner materials and organizing pockets are the same cookie-cutter layouts and style from other Aer bags, but that isn't a bad thing -- it's functional. And there are plenty of pockets and places to stash your stuff.

The best, most thoughtful pocket is the top "access" one right next to the primary handle. The worst, most disappointing pocket is the outer-lower pocket that defines the middle zipline when facing the bag. Another disappointment is the pockets lacking their own capacities. Once you have the luxury of pockets offering individual capacities in Evergoods products, it's hard to adjust to anything but.

Lastly, the zippers are chunky YKKs, and they rule. Aquaguard ziplines on most of the main openings.

Clamshell & Compression

The bag opens clamshell, like all good travel bags (or honestly, EDC bags). So, like a suitcase, if you've never used a bag like this before. It's the best way to load and organize your carry. That's all.

This bag also has compression straps to either shrink the bag for lighter loads (dimensionally), or to shrink down a fully loaded bag. This is both a blessing and a curse: the straps look great and work great. They also block the primary zipper for the body of the bag, requiring you to unclip the straps every time you want to open the main contents of the bag. They do not block the laptop backpanel pocket or the slimmer external front pocket, though, which is a nice design touch — this lets you grab pens/books/notepads/computer/whatever you store there that you might easily need access to while on the go and not at your hotel yet.

Carry

The Aer Travel Pack 2 carries like a breeze. It's very cushy, airy, and uncumbersome for most medium-to-heavy loads. I never tired of having on my back, and didn't bother buying the harness straps (though I do realize it's the smart thing to do for heavy loads). I'd say it sits normally on your back — you don't need to ride it high or do anything special. Just toss it on your back.

Final Thoughts

I really enjoyed using this bag. If I wanted to continue going down the route of one-bag, one trip, screw the luxury of more than 33 liters of space, I would never stop using it. But the siren call of a different kind of load out kit for traveling overrode my enjoyment of the one bag dream here. I have slight regrets in selling it, but at the same time, have no restraint in telling you that it is worth getting if you're stuck on deciding whether to go with this or the plethora of other (probably also good) bags out there, like Peak Design's 45L Travel Bag, the Pakt Travel Backpack, the Nomatic 40L, Evergoods Travel Bag 35L, Tom Bihn Aeronaut/Techonaut, or the Minaal Carry On. This is elite bag culture bullshit, sure, but I did my homework, and there you have it.