Adaptive Curmudgeon

As I’ve said, my house is in a rather natural environment. It’s not even remotely urban. It’s not suburban. In fact, the whole area is nicely uncrowded. My county is not “unpopulated”, but I can drive to “no-shit, not overstating the case, actual, textbook definition, real- life, unpopulated” places pretty easily. (Normally I’d be in such a place during September!)

Live like this long enough and you become a different kind of person. I crave the silence and love the space. When the foliage is gone and the wind is just right I sometimes see a glimmer of my neighbor’s pole light in the distance; I immediately wonder if I need to move. I’ve lived in cities but now I’m not that guy. I don’t really know how I did it, only that I won’t ever again.

The side effect of this is that my yard is probably a thousand times “wilder” than a campsite in most National Parks. I forget that. Wildlife started encroaching on my dark little universe. A deer, possibly a very stupid deer, approached the obvious, bright, light of the lantern. It snorted aggressively; as if to say “this is my path to the apple tree, get your ass off my path”.

I said nothing, which pissed it off more. I didn’t move and the air was still. The deer was baffled. It pawed the ground, as if to charge. It had antlers. It’s going to have to get a grip on it’s testosterone or it’ll be whacked on opening day (not too many weeks in the future). Possibly it’ll get shot by me. “You are prey.” I announced. “I’m not.”

The deer had no idea what the silent brooding thing under the lantern was. But it sure as hell knew human talking when it heard it! It turned itself inside out trying to run for its life. It tore off into the forest like a missile. You could hear it crashing through the brush for several hundred yards. I wish him well. Then again, in a few weeks the cycle of life rolls around and we will play humanity’s most ancient game. I’m in no condition to go thrashing through the forest like Rambo, but I’ll still hunt. I’ll shoot that buck (legally) if he continues acting unwisely enough to get in my scope. Marcus would approve. Teddy would’ve attacked the buck with a knife right there in the dark; just to see if he could take it.

It was time to turn in. Here’s where I admit to a medical detail. I need a CPAP. It pisses me off to need anything but it is what it is. It’s not a minor thing either. I was so ill and the CPAP so helpful that the fucking thing is perhaps the most important physical object I possess.

I’m well aware that I have only one CPAP. If I fuck up and break it, the medical bureaucracy and the cretins at my insurance company will jointly form a circular firing squad and start the game of foot dragging. Acquiring a replacement CPAP is possible but it would entail significant delays. It worries me. Damage that machine and I’ll suffer without it for weeks or a month or more. I do not want to deal with that kind of shit. (At least for now. I wonder if I’ll wean myself off it in a few years? There’s always hope.)

Like so many things, this is a place best filled with gratitude. The dumb little plastic box winched my ass out of a grave. (I took a lot of meds, some of them surely helped. I’m not so sure about the doctors I consulted. They meant well but human fallibility seems baked in the cake. They seemed to mostly rule things out based on expensive tests; which was much appreciated. They weren’t particularly good at forming hypotheses that pointed toward true causes.) So if a football sized gadget is such a miracle, it’s rude of me to complain but I still do. Marcus and Teddy would tell me to shut the fuck up. I get it. If you’re not dead, don’t bitch about why. I’m working on it.

Sorry about that digression but it was necessary to the story. The thing is, I’m unreasonably uptight about the CPAP. It must be protected at all cost. It must have all the power it’ll ever need. (I’ve had one extended power outage once since my dependency on it and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.)

Knowing how important it is, I bought an Anker SOLIX C1000. I bought it literally before I had the CPAP in my hands. I’m not saying you need a battery device to go camping, obviously you don’t. But if you have a CPAP and it’s a big deal to you, buy a battery device yesterday. You don’t have to buy exactly what I bought (there are dozens of similar devices), but get something. Mine protects my CPAP constantly. Grid down is the worst possible time to indulge medical weaknesses!

The Solix works very well. I’ve tested it carefully. It can easily run one CPAP for two nights. That’s two long, complete, sequential, night’s uninterrupted sleep with no charging in between (there’s a cushion of juice left over, I might ration it to three nights). It can do that while handling mundane crap like charging your cell phone. Mine also has a light (as most do) and that doesn’t seem to unduly stress the battery. I intend it for both indoors and out. If it’s plugged into AC and the grid goes down, the CPAP won’t skip a beat. If it’s not plugged into AC and just sitting there silently doing its thing; the CPAP still won’t skip a beat. In case you’re wondering, it’ll charge in an hour from any standard AC outlet. It also has a cigarette lighter plug and can charge that way. It’s also setup to accept solar panels but I don’t have that kind of scratch to spend. BTW: It charges in an hour via AC on the “low” setting. There’s a “fast” setting if for some inconceivable reason you needed that. I don’t use it because I don’t want to unduly stress the crappy old circuits in my crappy old house.

The battery is just one layer in my defenses. I acquired an auxiliary 12V cord (which insurance balked at so I paid cash) for the CPAP. I can therefore run it off most vehicles (just as I can also charge the Solix) though in either case you’d best be running the motor. I suspect a CPAP could kill a car battery overnight(?). I also have two generators; a whole house powering white elephant PITA and a small handy reliable 2000KW Honda clone (Powerhorse). I’m planning ahead. I ain’t going easy into that dark night.

This was the first “real world test” and I was sleeping in screen. It was humid. There would be a lot of dew in the morning. Everything would be soaked. I gingerly covered the Anker with a rain jacket and the CPAP with another rain jacket. I didn’t bother covering me with anything but an old sleeping bag. I’ve been wet with dew before, it’s no big deal. I don’t matter, it’s the gadgets that mattered.

I grimaced at the jumble of jackets. “This isn’t going to work.” I thought.

Then I settled back onto my cot, pulled up my light sleeping bag, and completely changed my mind. I felt as cozy as I’d felt in months. I was home. I like camping. A cheap sleeping bag in a screen tent suits me. I was pleasantly surprised how quiet the CPAP was. Nearly inaudible. The Solix is silent as well.

Something rustled past me in the dark, unaware of me and my Darth Vader mask. A good sign.

I fell into the best kind of sleep; the slumber of those who’ve let go.

Stay tuned for Part 5.

My yard, so close to the “civilization” of my house, is far more empty and quiet than any State Park. I forget that I live every day closer to nature than the average “outdoorsy” American experiences when they park their Subaru at a trailhead. I lit a Coleman lantern and hung it on a branch. It was a moonless night and the starlight, often so grand in my light pollution free sky, was obscured by clouds. It was pitch black. The air was warm and close and very still; a bit claustrophobic.

I tried to read the same book I haven’t completed reading for years. Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. It’s a good book but it’s not a page turner. Much of it is fairly obvious. I often read a passage and think “no shit Sherlock”. It floats around on the dash of my truck only half noticed.

When I was dating Mrs. Curmudgeon (a time so long ago that trucks had clutches) my truck’s dash had a battered and dusty copy of The Death of Ivan Illich by Tolstoy. If that wasn’t a red flag to scare her off nothing would. (I eventually waded through Tolstoy. I think some long forgotten English teacher assigned it. It wasn’t a good book.) The important part is Mrs. Curmudgeon married me, either despite or because of my bad taste in books.

I was only 100 yards from my house but the Coleman lantern might as well be the solo beacon in a planetary sea of darkness. I pondered one of the half remembered, partially read, chapters of Meditations. My man Marcus goes to great lengths ruminating over the proper Stoic way to face death. Don’t bitch. Don’t make a fuss. You always knew it was going to end.

How’d I been doing? Meh. This spring I went all out on medical shit, bludgeoning my way through layers of uncaring, unresponsive, unskilled medical bureaucracies. Accelerating timelines, bitching out labs that dragged their feet producing results, dropping one doctor for another if one of equal skill was available sooner, driving miles and staying overnight in hotels I could ill afford, to get tests and treatments now instead of “scheduled three months from next whenever”. I burned my emergency fund. What is money if not a thing to use? I refused to let the system distract me into the weeds or delay me for months. I grilled doctors about drug interactions, sought second opinions, and paid well for unpleasant tests. I did in six weeks, what the bureaucracy would’ve dragged out for eighteen months… or forever.

Did it work?

Yes.

It did work. I spent lavishly of money, time, effort, and attention but it did indeed work. I’m on the mend.

Sitting in the dark, by a tiny campfire, I measured myself according to the ethics of the most powerful human on earth of 1,800 years ago. Marcus was no bitch. He was a conqueror of worlds. He wouldn’t fold at a minor illness unless it was unavoidable. If he could do better he’d try to fix his situation. Just as I had. This in counterpoint to Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China. That weirdo went half mad seeking the elixir of eternal life. In so doing he stained his otherwise amazing life story with a pathetic last chapter. Spoiler alert, Qin Shi Huang died just like any other mortal man.

Marcus died during a military campaign, probably in a tent, possibly of the plague. I’m sure Marcus would rather have been cleaved with a barbarian’s axe, foreshadowing some overwrought Sabaton lyric. But there’s no record he bitched about cruel fate. For that matter Teddy started off behind the eight ball physically. He worked his ass off to overcome dire health issues. That’s probably why he grew to become an absolute animal. Teddy was damn near unkillable until he died in his sleep, no muss no fuss. That Teddy wasn’t ripped in half by a grizzly isn’t because he didn’t give the grizzly a fair chance. Neither Teddy nor Marcus fretted over how, or even when, but they used now like the bosses they were.

Tough guys to follow. I’m doing my best. I haven’t gone off the deep end of hype and fashion. I’m not drinking vegan Kombucha from Whole Foods on my way to Yoga class. (Though I haven’t had a glass of bourbon in a while and I miss it.) So long as I’m cutting firewood for exercise instead of posing in spandex at the gym I think my soul is safe. I can’t camp (yet!) but that’s by my definition… which isn’t a common baseline. In a year I’ll be “adventuring” again. Sooner maybe. But I’m not in charge. Fast gains fade into slower gains. In my math-mind I say I’m approaching full recovery asymptotically.

Perhaps next September I’ll be camping in some dispersed spot that most people would call “God forsaken desolation”. I’ll once again convene a performance evaluation with Teddy and Marcus. I don’t think they’ll be too disappointed with my methods or goals.

That’s enough philosophizing for today. Stay tuned for Part 4.

The weather was great and I wanted to go camping (despite not really being “up to it”.) So I announced to Mrs. Curmudgeon “I’m going to go set some shit on fire” and sauntered out the door. This caused absolutely no drama. She’s used to me. I have a genuine forest that’s all my own. It had rained recently so it wasn’t high fire danger. Given pretty much unlimited campfire wood and a place to use it… why not have a campfire?

Ten minutes later I was sitting in a lawn chair next to a very tiny fire. A storm knocked down several trees, some in my yard. I’ve been beavering away at one of them, processing firewood in tiny increments. (I call it my “workout routine”.) The place it fell made for a fine little clearing amid other shading trees. My coming and going (hauling the debris away) had cleared it fairly well.

I didn’t want to damage any tree roots so I parked a Redcamp Wood Burning Folding Camp Stove on a hefty chunk of wood. (Don’t fret, it didn’t burn into its base, which will become firewood in due time anyway. I was merely sparing root damage on already stressed trees.)

It wasn’t cold. Logically, I didn’t need a fire. Psychologically, I did.

I had incomplete ideas about cooking brats but I wasn’t hungry. I just basked by the little fire. My dog loves camping. She defines it as me sitting by a fire and cooking treats she’ll get to sample. She rolled in the leaves; happily picking from the pile of firewood I’d gathered and chewing her selections to bits.

That’s all it took; sticks, a match, a chair, a dog. It was a good day.

Mrs. Curmudgeon eventually texted “If you’ve got a campfire, I’d like to join you. Where?” I texted “in the yard”. Imagine our strange technological world. We send mini-telegrams halfway around the world, to get snooped on and archived by our own government, only to land not 100 yards away. I wandered to the garage, gathered a spare lawn chair, and returned to my post; monitoring the little fire.

Even after decades of marriage I don’t always pick up the feminine vibe. Mrs. Curmudgeon can sense a mosquito from 20 miles, swears it will find her immediately, and often explains to me that this is unacceptable. I hardly notice bugs… because I trained myself not to. Mosquitoes are like rain or lightning, things that happen in our turbulent planet. Things happen with or without us and that’s all there is to it. Approval by over-clocked apes with awesome power at their command and mind control devices in their pockets is neither sought nor required. I take measures about mosquitoes but if I get bit, so what? (Another thing about which I should be thankful, malaria isn’t endemic where I live.)

I gradually realized Mrs. Curmudgeon expected more than a chair. I setup my Gazelle G5 screen tent and mostly ignored it. I also had my little shortwave radio playing (just FM). By the time I’d gathered a second pile of sticks for the dog to wreck, Mrs. Curmudgeon was there.

She brought food! Holy shit! Food delivery to a campfire?!? How sweet is that? We ate in the warm breeze while the dog begged indiscreetly and got more treats than any dog needs.

Now I had momentum. If there’s a screen tent and it’s warm, why go back in the house? I dragged out my cot, mattress, and a cheap sleeping bag (no need for a “good” bag in such mild conditions). The sun was about to set. Mrs. Curmudgeon detected a mosquito and disappeared in the house, trailed by the dog. I was alone.

That’s enough typing for today. Stay tuned for Part 3.

September is my favorite month for outdoor activities. Missing it sucks!

How a year can change a man. Here are a couple images from just a year ago. This is from the WYBDR (story link):

This is from roughly the same time period. It’s a totally different motorcycle in a completely different place (story link):

Wanting something doesn’t make it so. I’ve taken a hit in 2025 that puts me below my level in 2024. It’s naught but a fact. Unlike current society, I’m not at war with truth.

Also, every time I bitch I know that I’m being insufficiently grateful. Gratitude is key! I’m alive. I should be overjoyed! I am overjoyed. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d see autumn.

It’s hard to quantify such things. Maybe I was overreacting. Medical people, soaked in death, decline, and misery, are cynical and worn down. Their baseline is not mine. A doctor might have a dozen patients enduring chemo and many others on the way out for things that can’t be treated at all. Maybe they did time at the ER; frantically patching together bits remaining after car wrecks and farm accidents. They’ve witnessed situations I can’t fathom. I don’t blame them that they didn’t fret much over me. As for the rest of the system, the goal seems to be to shoo the bearded whiner out the door. In the facility, I’m a hassle, if I die one step beyond their parking lot it won’t mess up their stats. Plus, a man can endure a lot more suffering for a lot longer than I was willing to ponder. Thank God (literally) I didn’t have to plumb those depths.

So, if I want to camp but don’t feel up to my usual method of dispersed camping in the middle of nowhere, what should I do? Bitch about it? Well… I do that but it’s definitely uncool. Should I dial back to a State or National Park? Good answer but I’m not ready for that either. So I did what I could. The words of Teddy R are always in my head. They come out in times like these.

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”

It was a glorious warm September day. I quit letting “ideal” be the enemy of “good enough”. I muttered, “Fuck this, I need a campfire.” And headed for the door.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

Background: I installed a flagpole around 2001. The pole is aluminum but the mechanism had plastic bits. The plastic gradually wore out. A storm finally broke the very worn pieces. I can’t complain, it held up for 15 years.

What I did: In April I made my very first “invented from scratch & fully utilitarian” 3d print. I designed and printed replacements for the broken plastic bits. I was rather proud of myself. Was it worth the effort? I think so. I consumed a little over $4.50 in filament (counting an initial misprint). The equivalent parts would have cost $58 plus tax & shipping.

Nice start but…

…how has it worked out?

That’s what today’s post is about. I doubted my n00B 3d design skills were up to the task. I was right. There’s almost nowhere more extreme than the top of a flagpole in my homestead’s climate. A few months after installation a killer storm nuked one of the two parts I’d made. (It also knocked out the power for 15 hours!)

I’m not upset. Every failure is a lesson in how to improve.

Upon inspection, the part that broke had the stress of not just one flag but two. Makes sense that it gave out first.

The second observation is that it broke exactly where an experienced 3d guy would’ve predicted. I should have seen it coming!

3D printers lay down thin, precise, layers of filament. The layers fuse together to make the “in the round” object. Thus the term “fused filament fabrication” (FFF) or “fused deposition modeling” (FDM). This means 3D printed objects have planes of greater and lesser strength… just like wood.

[Warning: Rant Ensues:

For the few 3D naysayers out there “grain” is not a deal killer. FDM’s “grain” is very much like wood. All materials have good and bad characteristics (and sometimes the same characteristic is “good” or “bad” depending on what you’re making). Material properties are merely a fact of life, not a reason to ditch 3D.

Pine has grain. Vertical pine studs create strong walls. Horizontal pine studs aren’t strong enough. Pine logs, peeled and laminated, become plywood. Now it’s dimensionally stable on two planes but weak on the third. None of this is a flaw with wood (or FDM) it’s just details. For some reason this eludes anti-3d print people.

So long as I’m being grumpy, I also note people flake about 3D printing efficiency. It’s pretty high but some filament is wasted. Folks who shrug at a pile of chips under a CNC machine or the sawdust under a chainsaw, freak out when they learn a 3d printer “poops” waste when switching colors. I have no idea why.

Anyway, understanding “grain” in FDM is my idea of “fun”. It’s rising to the real world from the “frictionless constant” of theory. Forgive me if I’m preaching to the choir. I’m sure similar things were said by the first guy that rolled a Model T through town in a time of horses.

/Rant off.]

Anyway, here’s an excerpt from the April post:

…the “middle anchor” …has two anchor points. Here it is in Fusion 360.

Here it is in the slicer. (Notice the “tree” supports that hold up the “overhang” on the two loops.)

Here it is in real life.

Do you see my mistake? In retrospect it’s obvious! I carefully aimed to reduce support material. (That “efficiency” thing again. Reduced support means the object consumes less filament during printing.) Printing in that orientation didn’t address “grain”.

Based on the use, where would be the most stress? On the top loop where it’s anchored to the highest flag. Where’s the weakest point of a stack of horizontal layers? On the top of the top loop.

Where did the object break? On the top loop; right where it’s weakest. Duh!

Life is more interesting in the real world. There’s always something you didn’t anticipate.

[At this point I turned my garage inside out looking for the broken part to illustrate the situation. I couldn’t find it. THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS WHEN I CLEAN MY GARAGE! Then I found the broken part still on the flagpole. I apologized to the garage.]

Here’s the image. It snapped like a knife cut it:

I could make an improved design, but I decided not to do that. I got excited about a “controlled experiment”!

I pulled up the old file and loaded the rest of the same spool of PETG. I setup a print of the exact same object changing only the orientation. My plan is to put the new object back up the exact same flagpole. Accepting the caveats of unpredictable storms and seasonal variation, I’ll see how long the object lasts with nothing changed but the “grain”.

Place your bets!

Another image, this time with supports. (The black layer is PLA plastic which doesn’t adhere to the red PETG. This makes it easy to snap off the supports.)

Dammit! I fucked up.

I changed orientation and hit print. Seems logical but I forgot a detail. In mid-print I realized I’d left “infill” on default (I think it’s 10%).

Just about any solid made from a 3d printer is partially void. Plastic is strong enough to do internal voids so why wouldn’t you use that feature? (Note: This is not possible with casting, injection molding, or milling.)

Did I do that last time? Nope! Here’s my own text from last time:

I made it thicker, beefed up the infill and other slicer settings, and so forth. I think it looks better than store bought.

My new print with only 10% infill (90% of the object’s volume is void) is going to be shit! My “controlled experiment” was officially the same level bullshit as the media reporting the newest thing that cures cancer in rats!

Rather than give up I decided to burn money (actually filament and not much at that) to learn. (Is not learning the whole point?)

I made it again. Still the same model, still horizontal orientation, but this time with 50% infill and I switched from boring “grid” infill to snazzy “gyroid”. There are mathematically inclined nerds who spent their life on these patterns. If awesome gyroid infill is an option, it only seems logical to try it.

Here’s the finished product (of course you can’t tell the kind of infill by just looking at it):

Just for fun I “destructive tested” the 10% infill, horizontally printed object. I twisted it by hand. Indeed it snapped along the different “grain”, just as it should. In this case, I’m not sure the weakness matters. There would be a flagpole in the center so the torsion I applied by hand would be impossible. Maybe I’m overthinking it?

I took a photo of the two broken parts, to compare how they broke. The right broke in real life over months and the on on the left was mangled by it’s creator for fun. Maybe I should read Frankenstein again?

As soon as the horizontally oriented, 50% infill object came off the printer, I hoisted the flag. There’s no better test than the real world.

I was really impressed with how nice the Milwaukee Packout labels came out. (Sometimes a little thing can make your whole day.)

I decided to make more. This time I made “handles” for Packout boxes with pull out drawers. These come in various flavors; 2, 3, or 4 drawers and even some with unequal drawers. All I own are modules with 3 identical drawers. They look like this:

I grabbed a model from MakerWorld and jammed out several handles.

Time for a nerd note. I didn’t make the model myself. Someone named “marioalvarez.214t” posted it as “Packout Drawer handle”. Whomever that is did all the brain work and deserves accolades, not me. However it’s licensed under “Creative Commons License”. There are several flavors of the license and the creator chose one which allows me to make as many copies as I want, modify as I see fit, and even sell them*. I hope this post acknowledges the author adequately, I’m not trying to screw anyone. I encourage anyone who wants to go search the model up on MakerWorld and get the data “from the horses mouth”**.

*Now there’s an idea! Anyone who wants to buy a handle or three, shoot me an email.

**Do people say “from the horses mouth” anymore? It’s meant as a compliment and attestation of veracity but I live under a rock so what do I know?

I made up four of them (inserting my own text and whatnot). I printed with cheap red PLA with cheap black PLA letters. PLA is not particularly awesome or exotic but I suspect it’s plenty good enough and if I need to reprint with better materials it won’t be a big deal. The print plate looked like this:

It takes a little practice to get the old black plastic handles off. I had to resort to watching a YouTube video (how embarrassing!) Once I got the hang of it, I could tear off the old handle in maybe 90 seconds with minimal swearing. Should you try the same thing you’ll figure it out by the second handle.

Here’s a comparison of the new handle (fresh off my printer) and the old handle (pried out of a two year old Packout).

Tearing out the old handle is a fairly brutal operation, but you can insert the new handle nice and easy with a C-clamp.

The end result looks so damn clean!

BTW: I seriously considered making a set of “wiseass” handles. I like the idea of a workshop where the drawers are labeled “skulls of my enemies”, “cans of whoop ass”, and “last fucks to give”. However, my workspaces are plenty chaotic enough without a layer of sarcasm muddying things up. Shame, because it would be hilarious.

I have an addiction to Milwaukee Packouts. There is no cure and I’m perfectly happy about that. As addictions go, attraction to irrationally overspecialized toolboxes is pretty tame.

I began by using Packouts for everything but tools. As soon as they hit the market I bolted a half size Packout to my dirt bike (a Yamaha TW200 named Honey Badger). That initial foray into Packout-land was just meant to hold tools and “survival” gear. But Packouts stack and I had to test that out! I added and swapped various “modules”, a soft cooler, extra space to carry more stuff, etc…

No sane person expects anything to stay stacked while bouncing around on a dirt bike. Yet somehow it works! I’ve stacked Packouts in all sorts of configurations, then rode my bike like I hate gravity. I’ve fucked up and hit trees and sunk into swamps and so-forth, but the toolboxes never fail. Aside from one I into which I drilled holes, they stay sealed; internal contents are always dry. The individual boxes never fly off. It’s uncanny how such highly abused boxes hold together like dirt bikes are their true purpose.

Here’s a post from 2021. I was testing a 1 gallon RotoPax gas container* and a 1 gallon RotoPax water container in addition to the Packouts (in this case a stack of a regular half box and a thin half box). (*Links are for Amazon, they may still be valid or they may have expired. If you go to Amazon via a link on my blog and buy anything, I get a small kickback. You won’t pay anything more. So feel free to buy a bar of gold or something.)

This photo is from (Dirt Bike Americana: Pics Or It Didn’t Happen):

Here’s a post from eleven months ago. (I was a much healthier Curmudgeon just that short time ago. It’s hard to imagine how much can, and did(!), change.) I was wandering around the Wyoming high country like a man with zero shits to give. I had the usual Packout and matching set of RotoPax but it was buried under Nelson Riggs Hurricane Dual Sport Saddlebags a Tusk Olympus (Large) tank bag, and sleeping bag & tent. I looked goofy but my unkillable little TW200 did an admirable job under difficult circumstances.

It was a good time. I was riding solo, living my dream, and happy. Eleven months can be a very long time or the blink of an eye. I will be that strong again; I’m just not sure when. The post was called WYBDR: Seeking The Groove:

In addition to the bike, I’ve been using bigger Packout boxes in my truck as “camping gear boxes”. I posted about using one for a “chuckbox” in early 2024 (For No Apparent Reason, I Went Camping: Part 6: Chuckbox):

If I ever join a cult, it’ll be based on Packouts.

As to details, the chuckbox is a Milwaukee Packout 22 inch Modular XL Tool Box. (I’d offer an Amazon link but for some reason Amazon sketchy about that one piece of Packout kit). It’s identical in size as the Packout Rolling Tool Box which I use for “tent stuff”.

Based on all that, you might think I’m missing the point. They’re toolboxes. Am I so obtuse as to not put tools in them?

Of course not! I just didn’t post it when I used toolboxes to hold tools.

In fact, I fiddled with my 3D printer, and made a thing called a “Gridfinity” base for some of my Packouts. “Gridfinity” is nerd-speak for a modular system of organizing space to hold stuff (like tools). 3D printing your own “Gridfinity” bases for Packout boxes is two dimensions deep into the deep well that is American nerd-ness.

In case you’re wondering, Gridfinity within a Packout works exceptionally well.

I didn’t take any photos because… well because 2025 has been a tough year. Also I just wasn’t ready to share. A man posting his opened toolbox might as well be posing in his knickers. I’m well aware the internet is awash in such things, but y’all don’t need to see my socket set just yet. That day may come, but it isn’t today.

(*Do I date myself saying “knickers”? I feel like that makes me sound like an extra from the Beatle’s Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band. In 2025 should I say “thong”? In my Squirrels story I refer several times to “mink speedo”. Where was I?)

I just recently did another thing. I used my 3D printer to make stupidly simple Milwaukee Packout labels… and they look fabulous!

If you wandered into some dude’s garage and saw Milwaukee Packouts you might think he’s actually capable of using all those tools. If the Packouts were sporting the silly little labels I just cranked out you might think he’s a “pro”.

Of course, I’m hardly a “pro”. I might very well be just some goober with fancy toolboxes and a high opinion of himself. The best I can say in my defense is that when I made a boat, it floated.

Anyway bask in the glory of cheap 3D printed labels and how they make nice tool boxes into awesome toolboxes!

Here’s an generic stack of Packouts. (Forgive the dirt, I actually use them.)

Looks pretty good, but could it be better?

Here are some labels coming out of my 3d printer. A nerd details is that some labels stick out forward when mounted on the box. For those the text is invisible because it’s on the downward side of the print. Other labels nest deeper into the box when mounted. For those you can see the text as it prints.

3D printing, when done well, isn’t expensive. I used my cheapest PLA filament which is plenty good for this application. The slicer says the cost of filament for this “plate” was around $1.20. I’d suspect each plastic label costs a bit less than a quarter.

Here are the same toolboxes as before but with the pretty new labels. I think it spiffs things up nicely.

Here’s another set of Packouts with labels. They look great!

I was fooling around with some labels sticking out forwards and others nesting in backwards. I think the nested ones look cooler. Also notice that the “inter-handle-hinge” width of various Packouts varies. You need to pick the right size, which isn’t rocket science.

Final note, I didn’t design these myself. I downloaded them from MakerWorld. (It’s easy to edit the text within the Bambu slicer.) You can find them there too. If you do, make sure to “boost” the designer. He earned it!

Happy garage-ing y’all.

I’ve been ill and unable to camp or wander the forests… though that’s improving. Summer fades but hope is not lost. My traditional camping season is just starting!

Traditionally, I stampede to the forest immediately after Labor Day. I do this for two reasons. First, it’s a good season. Most mosquitoes are dead and it’s not yet winter (though you need to be prepared in the high country). The early hints of fall are so very enticing!

Second, and this is sad, the children are all gone. I selfishly benefit when many fine places are “empty”. Indeed the Tuesday after Labor day, the summer tourist season is officially dead. It’s like someone killed it. It’s like that because that’s precisely what public schools do.

Labor Day is the transition weekend before school kicks in. If you go to a State or National Park on Labor Day you’ll see swarms of families getting their last hurrah of the summer. I’m all for it! Families taking their kids into nature is good for society and the kids!

On the other hand, I avoid crowds. I rarely go to a “Park” or “tourist” location on Labor Day. For a solitary guy like me, Labor Day crowds are a pain in the ass. The traffic and the tourists cramp my style. Trailheads are unnaturally crowded. Restaurants are harried. Gas stations are hectic. Etc…

Labor Day tourism all ends in a big rush. One day after that I’ll practically “own” the forest. It’s “mine” clear until big game hunting season brings a different crowd.

It doesn’t have to be that way. It simply is. Public schools in America start up more or less after Labor Day. I’m not a fan of what public schools have become. Kid are penned up beginning in September for utterly arbitrary reasons. Once school kicks in, Moms and Dads just don’t have the time to drag the tykes off to nature (possibly to their relief).

Being an odd thinker like I am, it reminds me of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. (An excellent children’s musical from 1968.) Part of the story is the fictional land of Vulgaria.

Time to review the relevant parts of the story:

Vulgaria is a shitty place ruled by shitty people. The Baroness of Vulgaria is a bitchy Karen who hates children; basically a 1968 version of your local HOA manager. She henpecks the hell out of the equally shitty Baron Bomburst; a selfish and childish soyboy dipshit who should have been “French Revolutioned” by his people.

The Baron, trying to placate his asshole wife, outlaws children, just exactly like your neighborhood HOA would like to do. To get rid of the pesky kids, they hire “The Child Catcher””

Yes, that’s how I see it in my mind. I think of public schools as child kidnapping shitheads. They don’t imprison young minds at the order of a bitchy Baroness, they imprison them for money.

Schools are financed by butts in seats. Every child ass that gets chained down in a classroom is money in their accounts. They get the same money whether the kids are little geniuses learning calculus or clueless illiterate nincompoops; which is why we’ve got so many clueless nincompoops coming out of them.

That’s the version of “the matrix” I envision around Labor Day. YMMV. I enjoy that children are happily running around campgrounds on (and before) Labor Day; even if I have nothing to do with it. I hate to see empty swings and deathly silence when the kids are locked up; even though that frees up “my” forest for my private recreation.

If you’ve got kids and they’re still in the clutches of Public Schools, give them extra hugs and watch the Public Schools like a hawk. Keep a suspicious eye on those bastards!

And maybe take the kids camping in October? Check them out of school, they ain’t learning much anyway. If you see me out there (likely you won’t) I’ll be happy with the laughter and shouts of happy children even if I’m avoiding everyone like the plague.

The forklift I made functions exactly like this one. This isn’t my video, someone else made their own forklift and added a soundtrack like a 1980’s workout video (which is awesome!). I loved making my forklift and I am sure the video maker loved making his. It’s super fun.

I’m too lazy (or too paranoid of YouTube) to post a video, but I’m super happy someone else did it. Have fun watching and give the dude a thumbs up if you want.