Things That (don't) Work: Sigg Steelworks Bottles

I love the canteen. A durable, re-useable, highly portable water container. It shouldn't be all that hard to get it right. Apparently it might be harder than I thought. Last August I got a H2Go canteen while in Colorado at the Wild at Heart Boot Camp. The only thing that irritated my about that bottle was that it only had 24oz of capacity. I found myself draining the bottle before my need for water was quenched. I wanted a quart/liter sized bottle and after accidentally destroying the H2Go canteen, I began a search for a replacement that would fit my needs. Unfortunately, I didn't search long enough.

What I found was a very visually appealing canteen. The bottle got my attention based on its description and its name, Sigg's Steelworks. It sounded like something a guy named Sven hammered out of hot iron. The canteen has a thick ring at the top where the threads are and seemed to be build from robust steel. The twist cap had easy to grip surfaces and a think aluminum ring that would be easy to attach to a carabiner or lanyard. The canteen looked tough. Very tough. Maybe I would get years of rough service use out of it. Maybe I would have discovered a truly great water bottle that my friends would be envious of. Maybe.

Disappointment began upon arrival. It looked like it had been hit lightly with a ball-peen hammer about a dozen times. Hmm. An eyebrow raised. But I was still excited and promptly washed it out and filled it up for first drink. I took off the twist cap only to discover that the cap had very fine threads on it. I began to sink into buyer's remorse. These fine threads require careful attention not to cross-thread upon closing the canteen. The prospect of having a rough use and durable water bottle was beginning to fizzle out. This canteen was more at home at the mall than a trail.

I imagined myself mowing grass on a scorching summer day. I've stopped for a quick swig and hastily re-stopped the bottle, cross-threading it along the way. The bottle tips over as I resume edging my driveway and its contents, the life sustaining water, the restorative nectar for physically depleted lifeforms all over the earth, drips slowly, but constantly out of the bottle. I return later, parched, to find an empty bottle lying next to a rather smug looking dandelion. Is it possible for a weed to laugh at you?

This was three months ago. Have I destroyed the bottle in that time? Not entirely. I have, with considerable respect for the fine thread of the cap, made a religion of re-stopping the bottle (No, no, no, my son. You must do it this way. Focus. Breathe deeply. Relax. Slow down. Gently twist the cap. It must feel smooth. If it fights you, you are out of sync with nature.) . After sacrificing a spotless black kitty-cat and following the above procedure to the "t", I've managed to keep the bottle alive for the time being. It does look a little worse for the wear, though.

It has been dropped a few times. The first major drop left a big ding on the bottom edge of the bottle. It looked like a reinforced area, but, rest assured, it's not. The second drop occurred at my daughter's tee-ball game a few nights ago. It must have landed on the (wait for it........) twist cap. I quickly picked up the bottle to get out of some other folk's way only to discover later that the "thick aluminum ring" had parted company with the bottle. Whatever their differences were, I was indignant about their separation and sought reunification post haste. After searching for about ten minutes, I found the aluminum part in the dust, but the carabiner that was attached to the ring was by then in the possession of some tee-baller or an older sibling. I wish they had taken my bottle instead. That carabiner was a good one...

After thinking about this bottle for a while now, I've concluded that it must have been originally designed to carry something besides water. It looks more like an MSR or Optimus white gas bottle than a water bottle. I'm not so sure that it wouldn't work better as a fuel bottle anyway. If I find out later that the threads are the same for an MSR bottle, I'm going to be ticked!

Verdict: Run far, far away from Sigg's Steelworks canteen. They do make other bottles, however. Hopefully they have nothing in common with this particular bottle. If I gave "stars" for my reviews, this product would get 1 out of 5. It does look cool, and it holds a lot of water, but it has none of the toughness that its name implies. I'll sell you mine really cheap...

Seubold Camp Out Report

To be sure, I could not give a proper report on this event. I was only one person there and saw things, of course, from my own angle. The short answer to the question, "What was it like?" is we had fun. The Man type of fun. We sat around a hobo fire, ate food that was really bad for you, shot clay pigeons, soda cans, and each other, slept in the back of cars, on the ground, or wherever, and simply rebelled from behaviors and mannerisms that are acceptable in mixed company.

I arrived in the late afternoon with my Grand Cherokee full of mischief. I had enough ammunition to hold off a fairly strong advance, a pistol, .22 rifle, and a shotgun. Arrgh! My plan was to fold the back seats down and sleep in the back of the car if it was going to get really cold. It did. I unfurled my extreme cold military sleeping bag and had just enough room to stretch out my 6'2" frame. Foodwise, I planned with simplicity and manliness in mind. Drinks- water or coffee, food- deer chili, Fritoes, summer sausage, Ritz crackers, and a pair of apples.
That evening we rustled up some grub; Mr. Mike Scherer laid down some potatoes and ham, I made my chili, someone had a pan of cornbread, and that was all that was needed. With supper finished it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty. Time for a little Airsoft! The guys broke off into two teams and spent several hours pegging each other with hard plastic BBs. Jonathan probably took the hardest fall of anyone that night. The good news is that no one was seriously maimed and they all appeared to have a great time.
As the night wore on we turned our attention to stoking the hobo fire and telling jokes and anecdotes. Folks started turning in around 11:00PM. I held out until 11:30. I have no idea what the temperature actually was but I did recognize that it was "colder than the proverbial well digger's arse". No sleeping on the ground for me. I forgot any reading material so I turned on the radio and let Bob Wills, U2, Marty Robbins, and a few others sing me sleepy.
In the morning we slowly made some breakfast. I had trouble with my stove. Apparently small propane bottles don't work all that well in sub-freezing temps. We finally got a little coffee made and inhaled all the biscuits and bacon and whatever else hit the pan. From here we made our way down to the big pond for a little clay busting. I had never shot clay before so I was anxious to give it a shot. What a blast it was! I shot through a little more than a box of shells and let my father and brother-in-laws share another box. Unfortunately we ran out of clay, but everyone got a chance to bust some.



From here we moved back to the pistol range to spank some aluminum cans and old CPUs. We shot the guns that made lots of noise and had lots of fun doing it. When it was all said and done I walked away holding about 5lbs of brass.


All in all it was just what I needed. Guys need a chance to be guys once in a while. Like Brad Paisley says, "With all of these guys linin' up to get neutered, its hip now to be feminized. Well, what can I say, at the end of the day, Honey, I'm still a guy!"