An Ode to the 32oz Wide Mouth Nalgene
If there’s one thing that’s never let me down, it’s this simple plastic bottle
Often I find that the simplest of tools in my life are the very same ones that sit closest to my outdoor heart. I think of my original Leatherman PST that was passed down to me by my father (it was also engraved by Tim Leatherman himself, and has since been retired), or instead the Gerber Shard that sits idly by on my key-chain, ready at a moment’s notice when someone inevitably calls out for a bottle opener.
Both of these items are tools, nothing more than objects I use each day. Over time I’ve used them with such frequently that I’ve grown to take them for granted, unaware that what I hold in my hand has been a near-lifesaver at times. And then it was today, as I stood before an empty light box, that I saw my Nalgene waiting stoically to the side. Like the Leatherman and Gerber tools, this unpretentious bottle sat close to my heart.
In a moment of gratitude I scooped up the red, battered container. The texture of worn and peeling stickers passed over my palm, as a few ounces of fluid drifted softly inside. Placing the Nalgene in the light box, I took only a couple pictures before removing it and pulling another swig of water. Then it was back to the project at hand.
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I remember well the first time I heard of Nalgene in a rather serious context. I was perhaps twelve years old, participating in a week-long kayak camp, when my parents dropped by to confiscate my Nalgene; at the time, many were worried that the bottle’s plastic material would leach BPA, an issue that forced Mountain Equipment Co-op, Lululemon, and even REI to remove the bottles from their shelves (BPA-free options were later distributed).
Yet at the tender age of twelve, I knew little of polycarbonate leaching that posed the risk of altering gene expression. Instead I can now only recall the moment my Nalgene was taken from my hands. The ensuing years would lack a Nalgene altogether as other bottles and flasks would pass through my possession. Many of them simply couldn’t survive.
And then in 2016, as I slowly advanced through my senior year of college, a Nalgene bottle crept into my life once again. Or to be more honest, it would only be fair to note that I entered the Nalgene’s life when I found it abandoned in a lecture hall, dawning a large penis sticker with some residual fluid inside — I’m pretty sure it was water.
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Taking the bottle home, I washed it and cared for it well. Nearly three years later, the very same Nalgene hasn’t yet skipped a beat. We’ve traveled to Europe, hiking the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, explored the trails of the American Southwest, discovered numerous National Parks, and became close companions along the way.
Sure, it’s lid has melted after snagging on a rack in the dishwasher, but I promise it doesn’t leak! And yes, I could probably stand to clean it more than I do. But at the very end of the day, there is perhaps nothing more simple than this insignificant bottle. It occupies space on my desk, in my backpack, on the trail, and even at my bedside table. Again, it’s often the simple tools that sit rather close to your outdoor heart. And this is one that sits rather close to mine.
