November 2026
M T W T F S S
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  • Wilderness First Aid

    The genesis of this post was a few months ago. I was speaking with a friend who is not a hiker. She would sometimes describe herself as “allergic to the outdoors”. She asked me what I would do if I or someone near me had a medical emergency while out on the Appalachian Trail. Without really thinking, I quickly replied, “Oh, I don’t know, just die I guess. LOL.” She wasn’t really satisfied with that answer and pressed me further. I thought about it and mentioned how I knew some basic first aid and used to have a CPR certification like twenty years ago. I could probably sham my way through whatever came up. She still wasn’t satisfied, but we changed topics.

    A few weeks later I was having a chat with a different friend who is definitely of an outdoorsy persuasion. I casually asked him about medical emergencies. Without hesitation, he said I should look into a wilderness first aid course. He said it would go over exactly the kinds of things that could save my life or someone else’s in an “oh shit” type of situation. I asked if he had any recommendations on how I could take this course.

    “You can find it at lots of different places. A place like Red Cross is good. For the best though, you need to look into knulls.”

    It wasn’t until a few days later that I bothered doing my own research and realized that what he actually said was NOLS. National Outdoor Leadership School. They offer a myriad of courses about the outdoors and all sorts of outdoors-adjacent things, and have for over 60 years. That last sentence sounds like they are sponsoring this post, but my bank account assures you they are not. What they are, however, is one of the best reviewed companies I saw that offers wilderness first aid. That plus my friend’s glowing recommendation plus the fact that I discovered they were holding a class in Austin in late September made it a no-brainer that I signed up.

    Therefore on September 26th, while most of Austin was either sleeping in or beginning to pre-game before the big football game against Tennessee, I got up early and went to a classroom located on the Forty Acres. We met up at Wright-Whitaker Sports Complex to learn all about how to perform first aid where 911 doesn’t travel. The course was 16 hours and took the whole weekend.

    Day one we mostly spent learning and practicing the patient assessment system (PAS). PAS is a series of methodical steps to protect yourself, evaluate a situation fully, and formulate a plan of attack. It is the backbone of wilderness first aid. Every patient is entitled to a head to toe assessment.

    A large portion of PAS is how to read your patient and their body. Understand what they are telling you and ask the right questions to get them to tell you important things you need to know that they don’t know to initially tell you. Also how to read an unconscious patient and their environment to see what might have happened to them.

    We repeatedly rehearsed how to assess patients on the lawn behind the classroom. Fortunately, there was shade back there and it did not rain all weekend. But we had all brought rain gear in case it had.

    the lawn where we practiced

    The following day, instead of prepping for the final day of the MLB regular season, it was back to class. We went over how to mitigate different kinds of injuries using things you’d have in a personal first aid kit and/or improvised items from the field. Head and spinal injuries. Allergic reactions and shock. Hot and cold weather injuries. Musculoskeletal injuries.

    We rehearsed and worked on scenarios in teams of 2 and 3. We picked up people with six-person lifts. We learned how to reduce shoulder dislocations with a cravat and a water bottle. We practiced how to stick ourselves and others with EpiPens. The EpiPen thing came with its own separate certification that allows you to get epinephrine for Good Samaritan use in some states.

    I got two main takeaways from the class. The first thing it gives you is confidence. After the two-day course I really feel like I can be useful in a real-world incident. Which was the whole point of me taking the class to begin with. The instructors went out of their way to pepper the instruction with medical terminology that, when used correctly, can make you appear much smarter than you are. If you can appear like someone who knows what is going on, it eases and assures the patient so much and can make probing and pulling on them in order to help them so much easier. The second takeaway, which is at least as important, is the pocket guide.

    This pocket guide has the signs and symptoms, treatments, and evacuation procedures for almost every situation you will encounter in the field. An immeasurably valuable resource to stick into that first aid pouch. Every skill we went over is perishable, so briefly going over the pocket guide every month or so will keep all of the precious information front of mind.

    As far as the administrative side, there was only one snafu. I signed up to be added to the interest list for this class back in May or June. However, once registration opened I never received a text or an email or anything letting me know. I only found out registration was open because I was habitually checking the class website once every week or so.

    Other than that, the paperwork was smooth. I received all of the class info (location, times, parking, etc) weeks in advance. We got a packet in the class with course notes in a nice folder. Since the class was hosted at UT there was a specific brief by someone from the university at the beginning of the first day about what to and not to do. After completion, we received our certificates via email in under 24 hours.

    The class cost $370, which is an important thing to note because everything costs money and $370 spent on this course means $370 you can’t spend on food or beer or one gallon of gasoline. Does that price seem excessive? Yes. Are the skills I learned and the confidence I built something I can put a price on? No, of course not. I hope I never use anything I learned this weekend, but if I do have to it would be worth $3700 or more.

    If you are thinking of this course or something similar I believe it comes down to your financial wherewithal. if you have the disposable income (or can get your job to cover it somehow), please do it. The more people that know this stuff on any trail or campground or isolated area, the better. If you don’t have the disposable income, no judgment here. But please look a little online and try to familiarize yourself with as much as you can. And at least try and bring enough bandages and such to perform self-aid on any small injuries to your own person.

  • Poentab Hiking Pants

    I don’t believe I have done any sort of gear review until now. I did that review of my Army issued sleeping bag, but that was more of just an overlong recap of the snowpocalypse. I mean… highly enjoyable tale of human perseverance.

    I only own blue jeans, khakis, jogging pants, sweatpants, and one pair of black dress pants. Convertible hiking pants are one thing I have never used or owned in my life, so I knew I needed to get at least a couple pairs for the Appalachian Trail. After looking online for the nicest and cheapest pants I could find, I settled on Poentab.

    Poentab is a decidedly Chinese company that sells camping and hiking gear through Shopify. The models on their website are predominantly blonde and white. I did not buy my pants from their website because I didn’t know it existed until 10 minutes ago.

    Poentab also sells online through Walmart for $29.98. On the Poentab website the price is $42.88 so at least I bought from the cheaper option. It may seem obvious but, just to hammer the point home, there was no pick-up option. I had to have these pants delivered.

    These pants run a little big. I took a long time trying to decide between the 30″ waist and the 32″. I normally wear anywhere between 32-34″ pants. I ultimately got the 30″ because I hoped if they didn’t fit that I would shrink my way into them. Turns out the 30″ are just about the perfect size. The waist is very stretchy and forgiving, so I say go a waist size below what you normally would.

    They are 90% nylon, 10% spandex. It makes the pants feel very lightweight and comfortable, even when you bend over or squat low. The care instructions say to wash in warm water below 30 degrees C (86 degrees F), line dry, do not bleach, and only iron at below 110 degrees C (230 degrees F). I had no idea irons went up that high. I always thought irons just boiled water into steam, so I figured the upper limit was 212 degrees F.

    Now for the convertible feature of the pants. They unzip just below the knees to become shorts. There is a flap over the zipper, so you cannot see an obvious zipper from the outside. Each zip-off leg even has a tag inside labelled L or R in case you get them mixed up and get confused about how to put your pants back together. Probably most useful when you are drunk.

    This one is the LEFT leg

    The belt came in a small plastic bag inside the same box the pants came in. I almost accidentally threw it out with the box. Once I did notice the belt I commented about how small and chintzy it looked. Turns out it only appeared to be feeble. Once you start using it, it works as well as any other belt. You may not even need it with as stretchy as the material is.

    These pants are pretty good at repelling water due to the materials from which they are constructed. They will definitely get soaked if you stand outside in the rain though. Their lightweight nature allows them to dry quickly, so if you do get stuck in a downpour just walking around in them for a while can dry them out sufficiently.

    My only real complaint is the colors I purchased. I bought a pair of dark grey and a pair of apricot. The dark grey are too dark for my liking and the apricot are too light. If I could turn back time I would go for army green and khaki, or maybe regular grey.

    I feel like I got a great deal on these hiking pants. I am afraid they will easily rip at the knees if I fall on a rock, but most lightweight pants will do that. I have plans to never fall down on any trails again, so if that is the case I should be fine.

    In case you are thinking right now, “what the fuck does this guy know about hiking pants”, I feel you. Don’t just take my word for it. Men’s Journal recently wrote a review of these pants and largely agreed with me. So there.

  • Why I Run

    Being into running is a lot like going to Harvard or being from Texas. You never have to ask somebody if they are any one of those things. They will make sure you know pretty much as soon as you get introduced to them. I feel like every self-indulgent asshat that runs has some profound story about how they got into it. I am no different.

    There were two specific moments that made me into a runner. The first one got me into running to begin with. The second one made me pursue distance running, by which I mean going beyond 10k races and ultimately running a marathon.

    The first instance was in May 2001. I was living in southern California at the time, which I did for a little over a year. Looking back, I feel like that year was definitely the worst one of my life.

    In my teens, my mother had quite a few physical and mental health issues which caused her and my dad to become estranged. They got back together and moved to a suburb of Los Angeles in 1996 but her overall health did not significantly improve. In 2000 I decided it would be a great idea to quit my job in Boston and move to California to help out. In my head I figured I’d move in with the folks for a couple months, get a nice job, and move into my own place somewhere close to them. The reality was nowhere near that.

    I left a pretty sweet job at Monsanto where I extracted DNA from plants all day. That was the whole job. Show up at 8am and cut leaves off plants. Grind them up with mortar and pestle, then breakdown the plant material and go to town on them with Qiagen kits. At around 3:45pm take all the different Eppendorfs full of DNA to the spectrophotometer and record the concentration in μg/mL. Easy peasy. My dumbass figured I could find another job like this someplace in Los Angeles.

    Truth was Los Angeles had basically zero biotech, and I wasn’t qualified to do much else. I couldn’t find a job quickly and a couple months became several months. I wallowed on the floor of my parents’ place and grew to resent them for no reason. They never told me to quit my job and move across the country, but if I didn’t blame them for my predicament then I would have to blame myself. This did irreparable harm to my relationship with my folks that never got undone. My mom and I only spoke about twice a year until she died in 2018. My father and I have barely spoken since her funeral.

    Being in this mental state obviously affected my physical state. I never really got fat but I got “skinny fat”. Not really doing anything just made me a doughy, pudgy, weak person. So that is where I was at come May 2001.

    Despite how horrible living in L.A. was, I did have two good friends from college who also lived out there. One of them was the poster boy for jocks. If they were casting Stan Gable from my stable of friends, this guy would be it. Tall, good looking, great at every sport the moment he picked it up. A Chad before the term Chad existed. To protect his identity, I’ll refer to him as Chad from here on out. The only joy I had in my life was when I would go to their place on the beach and get black out drunk. On Memorial Day weekend a mutual friend of ours from college came to Cali to hang out for the long weekend.

    The friend who was visiting was always our “fat friend”. He was the jolly, lovable dude with the big love handles on the side. I’ll call him Albert for the duration of this post. Well, since college he had been working hard on himself and lost the weight. He was looking svelte and trim and we were all genuinely happy for him. We did lots of partying and reminiscing on or near Hermosa Beach that weekend. Albert, Chad, and I went to a local park to play some basketball in between bouts of heavy drinking.

    So the three of us decide to play some 21 (which is like 1-v-1-v-1 basketball, first person to 21 wins). Chad obviously wins, but Albert and I keep it respectable. Something like 21-19-18. We decide to play again. This time the scores were 21-18 … to 6. Guess who was the 6?

    Early in that second game my everything gave out. Fuel level dropped to zero. My lungs were burning and my legs felt like they weighed 500 pounds. I could barely move and thought for sure I was seconds away from having a stroke or catching fire. After the second game I had to beg out and sit on the sidelines while Albert and Chad continued playing one-on-one.

    You know how they say you never remember the exact details of the most important moments of your life, but you never forget how you felt? Well, I don’t remember anything about who actually won that game or any of the particulars that happened. But I remember every single emotion that went through my head sitting there sucking down Gatorades and watching my “fat friend” and my “jock friend” living a life that was entirely beyond me. Shame, disgust, powerlessness, depression. I swore I would do everything in my power to change this.

    The very next day I started running. The first day I went about a half mile before I had to stop and walk back home. The next day I went a little farther. And the next, and the next, and the next. Soon I improved enough to get all the way to a local track over a mile away. Then before I knew it I could go to the track, do some laps, and then make it back home. I decided to sign up for a 5k in July. I ran that in about thirty minutes and then signed up for a 10k in August. That was around 57 minutes. Both were PRs at the time.

    My friends were nothing but supportive as I started running. Chad even gave me a $20 gift card for fogdog.com. For those of us who remember fogdog, it might be time to take our rheumatism medicine. They were an online sporting goods store in the late 90s dot-com boom when simply adding “.com” to your name made your stock price triple. Dot-com then was basically what AI is now.

    In September I moved back to Boston and continued on with my life. I got a job and my own place like an actual adult. Running stayed a significant part of my fitness routine and I still ran the occasional road race (shoutout to the Somerville 5K and Gobble Gobble Gobble). I pretty much stayed around 3-5 miles a day until the second specific moment.

    Fast forward to summer 2008. My Army Reserve unit got put on orders in Boston to prepare for an imminent mobilization. To say we were excited would be an understatement. We trained in and around Boston, and went on extended trips to Fort Hunter-Liggett and Fort Irwin. Everything was trending towards the mobe into autumn. Then all of a suddenly the mobilization got cancelled right before Thanksgiving. They didn’t need us to win the war after all.

    This was devastating for most of us. Lots of folks in my unit worked for small local companies that did not have enough employees to qualify for USERRA protection. I was working for a start-up with 4 employees so I also became unemployed just before the holidays.

    The holidays are my worst time for binge eating. Even when everything is going great for me, it is really tough to avoid a few extra pounds. This particular year a few pounds turned into a lot of pounds. I sat around at home and ate and felt depressed. I felt ashamed and embarrassed having to explain to my friends and family that I was staying in the continental US. Like I was scared they would think I had lied about the whole thing.

    I did not realize how bad I let everything get until I got chosen to attend Basic Non-Commissioned Officer Course (BNCOC, pronounced “bee-knock”) in February 2009. I had to do a preparatory physical fitness test in Boston and, while I passed everything, the numbers were down from my usual. Then when I got to Fort Dix for BNCOC I was over the limit on my weigh-in. Fortunately I made the body fat tape test on the number. I literally was at the highest body fat you could possibly be and still be able to complete the course.

    Once I graduated and got back home I knew I needed to do something to get my waistline and life back under control. I figured I could do worse than turning to running to achieve that again. This time I wanted to up the ante and decided to sign up for the Army Ten Miler in October.

    Army Ten Miler was a great experience, but my run that day made me feel like I left a lot of meat on the bone. I really tired out after about mile 8 and slogged my way to the finish. Once I got home I knew I needed to completely remake my stride if I wanted to do longer runs. And I wanted to do longer runs.

    In the winter of 2009-2010 I totally broke down my running style and became the most biomechanically efficient version of myself. In May 2010 I ran the Providence Half Marathon and then in October 2010 I did the Marine Corps Marathon. For me, running a marathon is a binary experience. Once you do one you never need to do another. That said, I continued distance running recreationally and have done several half marathons and ten milers since, but nothing that long since 2022.

    Running helped me improve my life and physical fitness. It is not a panacea. I am a firm believer that the most important workout you do everyday is in your kitchen. If you want to run to lose weight, be prepared to put in way more effort preparing meals than pounding pavement.

    When I ran the marathon I could look at a piece of chicken breast from the other side of a room and tell you everything there was to know about its calories and macronutrient content. I weighed 142 pounds on race day and felt like a strong crosswind would legitimately knock me over. That sort of shit isn’t for everybody and I never want to be that small again.

    I know a lot of people run for mental health reasons. More power to them. I have never used running for that. Lots of people talk about getting the “runner’s high”, but not me. The only time I feel joy about my run is as soon as I finish because I know it is the longest possible time until I need to run again. If I knew of something else that could give me the same aerobic and endurance benefits, with the advantage that it can be done anywhere, I’d switch as fast as possible. Pun intended.

    But anyway, those are the reasons why this self-indulgent asshat runs. Yours might be similar or they might be different. I’m certain whatever they are, they are just as important to you as mine are to me.

    Not the author. Photo by Nicolas Hoizey on Unsplash

  • Finders Keepers

    I’ve been walking around outside this year far more than at any time in my life. Honestly, it feels like I’m walking aimlessly outside more than anyone has ever walked. I averaged over 11000 steps a day last month and am looking to beat that this month. With all this walking around, I have found quite a few cool items hanging out on the ground waiting to be picked up. This seems like as good a time as ever to share some of my best finds so far.

    I want to start with this food bag I found one day near North Lamar Transit Center. There is some community outreach in the area that works with homeless people and newly released felons. One thing the organization does is hand out these bags with snacks in them. I guess the people that get the help think they are too good for it or something, because I see bags like this left on the ground nearby frequently. I am never one to look a gift horse in the mouth so I happy grabbed up this one.

    The bag itself was cool to the touch when I picked it up despite this being early afternoon. That meant it must have been dropped recently. I was already hungry when I happened on the bag, so I quickly devoured the Cheez-Its, string cheese, and oranges. I gave the unopened apple juice away to some kid and brought the sunflower seeds home.

    I had never heard of Neuro mints before I found an unopened package of twelve sitting on a park bench covered in graffiti. These Sleep & Recharge mints use the power of melatonin and chamomile to help you fall asleep fast. You pop one in and suck it like a Tic Tac or a Mentos and it helps put you out in 20 minutes.

    I used one when I needed to get up crazy early one day. I popped it in and played some silly YouTube video about an ancient civilization or the science behind black holes or some such. Within ten minutes I was out. I tried it again a few weeks later when I needed to hit the sack early and it worked again. I guess I’m sold. Neuro makes more mints to promote concentration, memory, and calmness. If I find any of those on a park bench I’ll try them too.

    For those of you who do not believe in an all-knowing and benevolent God, I ask you to explain this next set of pictures.

    Alright, admittedly some context may be necessary here. At the beginning of this summer I got a fruit fly infestation in my apartment. I’m not one hundred percent certain how it happened. One must have gotten in and laid some eggs in my trash or something. Anyways, due largely to my refusal to actually clean my kitchen and take out the trash like a normal person, a few flies became a lot of flies a few days later. Those flies expanded their nascent empire from the kitchen to include the bathroom in a few more days.

    By that point I was fully invested in doing everything to end the outbreak. I was cleaning up after myself like a normie. I poured apple cider vinegar and ammonia down my drains. I maniacally tossed out any trash as soon as I created it. None of it had any lasting effect on the situation. I briefly considered throwing in with the invaders and becoming Lord of the Flies. But then I realized they didn’t need me at all. I would just be Jester of the Flies if anything.

    While I was at my most desperate was when I found this Zevo behind a dumpster. I truly believe the Lord himself left it there for me to find. The box had one electronic trap with three cartridges. I plugged it in overnight and awoke to dozens of those things dead in the trap. The tide had finally turned. Through perseverance, continued hygienic practices, and efficient use of all three Zevo cartridges I was able to lick the incursion.

    Outside of the supermarket one day I found two cans of Zoa. Zoa is the energy drink from The Rock. The Brahma Bull, The People’s Champion. The most electrifying man in sports entertainment. Normally I don’t drink this sort of stuff, but they were free so I took them home and stuck them in the fridge.

    When I drank them the next day they were pretty much exactly what I, a non-fan of these sorts of drinks, expected. The fruit punch taste was okay but was overpowered by a tinny aftertaste and that “too sweet” taste you got from artificial sweeteners. I can only complain so much because they were free, but I wouldn’t ever pay for one of these. In order to improve the product, what I think…

    … okay, I’ll shut up and move on.

    Yes I will address the elephant in the room. A lot of these treasures I discovered have been food. It makes sense that I would notice food above everything else, I am a very food motivated individual. Coming out of the library I found this collection of jerky strewn about on the ground. I rounded them up into a small pile before taking the first picture.

    I tossed these into my backpack and kind of forgot all about them. While on one of my hikes I was dying for a snack and remembered this turkey jerky existed. They were great to get me over the finish line that day and on a few hikes since. The taste was as salty as expected and spicier than expected. I enjoyed these and would even buy more with my own money in the future.

    I found this black gardening hat less than a block from my apartment. And, yes, I washed it before I put it on. Great for keeping the sun out of my face. Big, floppy brim and easily foldable to fit in my pocket.

    As useful as this hat was it wasn’t something I needed. I already had three boonie hats so I had little need for a fourth one. After rocking this thing for a couple weeks I gave it to Goodwill. And, yes, I washed it first. I like to think some little old white lady is planting petunias somewhere in greater Austin while wearing the awesome black hat she found as a bargain at the thrift store.

    This one happened just last weekend. Not long after I wrote my whole post about the twentieth anniversary of quitting smoking. If I had found three cigarettes 21 years ago I would have been overjoyed. If I had noticed that they were Marlboros, like these, I’d have done the Ray Lewis dance for a full fifteen seconds.

    What really happened is that I merely stopped and contemplated why someone would have dropped these and not gone back to pick them up, considering the price of cigarettes nowadays. Then I decided to take a couple of pictures. Then, if I’m being honest, I thought for a fleeting moment about how nice it would be to smoke one. Then I just walked away.

    Insert something profound about how the things you find actually find you.