Exiting the elevator, I made for the door, dropped down the front steps and turned right to head down to the market. A half-minute to half-stroll, half-walk a half-block. That’s all it took to know exactly where I’d arrived.

A steady cascade of leaves, grit, and other bits of urban detritus tumbled down the street from up-block having escaped more than a few sets of weary hands. A warm humid summery breeze slowly wafted over, around, and through an urban maze of disjointed streets and alleyways that separated the scramble of the inner city from the more predictable blockier outlying districts. An aging yet solid matriarch crouched down on a little red plastic stool snugged up against the close edge of a steaming wok and chatted loudly with regulars who sat on matching stools dragging off smokes as they anxiously awaited the moment when their taste buds would catch up with their noses. A tired foot flung itself over the top of the handlebars of an equally tired motorcycle as some nearby fingers continued to work away at a phone. Impatient horns bleeped and blurted and bounced off warming walls of concrete in every direction. The absolutely unmistakeable pungent and acrid smell of two cycle engine exhaust permeated the air from a never ending parade of scooters and motorcycles that wove its way along a route that endlessly split, merged, divided, and recombined as it snaked its way through a thick urban jungle packed with places, people, and things but with little bits of careless abandon, loving care, benign neglect, and hopeful gentrification sprinkled in between.

All these disparate elements rustled up together with ten thousand more details big and small to form a clear message that I was all too happy to receive, all suggesting that everything in this life was going to turn out okay no matter what turn of events ended up taking place. I had found my way back to a country that had stolen my heart so many years ago. Hello again, Vietnam.

With such signature stimuli, there was no mistaking as to exactly where I’d landed. Up to that point, I hadn’t been one hundred percent certain.

Stumbling my way over the immigration hurdles in the wee hours of the night, there had been some obvious hints. A bleary-eyed, foggy-headed, and draggy-assed humanoid-like creature that looked sort of looked like me had been spotted shuffling down the airport corridors in a state of full disarray. It was readily apparent to most that he really didn’t know which end was up or what exactly lay right before him. His ticket said he’d just arrived in Ho Chi Minh City. Perhaps in body but not quite in spirit. His head was still enroute.

If he’d only been a bit more astute, he would have taken note of the telltale lingual tones and inflections emanating from the overhead speakers, the waves of returning citizens that looked altogether unlike him surging down the hallways, signs boldly displaying a vaguely familiar yet still very foreign tongue, and the constant reminders that he’d need to present his carefully guarded tourist visa up ahead that he’d applied for back in the States and that would eventually grant him entry into a country called Vietnam.

But when had such a sleepless and confused creature ever been a keen observer of the finer points even at the best of times?

Hitting the snooze button more than once as I fumbled around through all the zombie wake up calls, I suddenly found myself at curbside waiting for my semi-prearranged, half-official, half-scattershot ride to the little boutique hotel that I’d booked just a few days prior. Having been recently bombarded with a slew of email reminders that I’d need to pay for my ride immediately on arrival at the hotel using only cash in the local currency, some vague recollections were beginning to emerge from the mists.

Waking up to some of the new realities on this other side of the wormhole, I suddenly found myself standing at a front desk checking in with a night clerk who’d seemingly been slumbering away sprawled across a couch in a hotel lobby sporting a few well curated pieces that unmistakably placed my arrival at a fixed spot on the still spinning globe. “Yes…OK…pay later.” Why, of course. No problem. Never mind all those emails. No need to dig out my buried stash of cash. Naturally, I could pay for my ride when I checked out in a few days using my credit card. Any shadows of a doubt as to exactly where I’d arrived instantly vaporized.

Finally, once I’d made it up to my room after riding up a syrupy slow elevator and opening up a door secured with nothing other than a janky old school lock, I received my final clue sitting in a basket on the nightstand. “Wifi password: 12345678.” Hello again, Vietnam.

Despite having the good fortune of being able to collapse onto a comfortable bed in full body with all limbs and appendages seemingly intact, my mind had been long declared lost luggage and wouldn’t be fully found and delivered til morning. Bah. Not to worry.

It was my nose that woke me up a scant few hours later in full excitement. Wonderful aromas billowed up through the stairwell and seeped into the room through a wide crack at the bottom of my door. Instantly awake, I knew some of my favorite earthly delights were waiting for me only an elevator ride down and a few steps away at the breakfast buffet.

On my way out the door, another note on the table reminded me of what I must have learned very late the night before. The full breakfast spread came complimentary and would be served in a beautiful courtyard out the back end of the lobby.

I’ll forever remember the moment that morning when I nibbled the first of what would be a long string of heavenly bites of the world’s freshest produce. Scooping out dark seeds that’d been swimming in a tangy tarty pool of orange pulp informed me I was eating passion fruit. The mildly sweet flavor and stiffer chewiness of a sliced white fruit embedded with tiny black crunch bombs and edged with a waxy pinkish rind suggested there was dragonfruit on my plate. The bold slices of a bright red, juicy, crispy and flavorful fruit precariously perched on the edge of my overflowing plate smacked of the presence of watermelon far better than any of us could find stateside. Green veggies fresher and snappier than found anywhere in the heart of California’s most verdant farmlands spoke volumes. I’d finally arrived in one piece to Saigon, perfectly perched an arm’s reach away from the Mekong Delta, the world’s most fertile land, in full body, mind, spirit, and tongue. Hello again, Vietnam.

The warm, delicate, and flaky croissants that had somehow leapt off the tray and landed onto my plate reminded me that the French had their expert hands at work in influencing the cuisine of this great culture. As I drained my third cup of Vietnamese coffee infused with only the boldest, strongest, and darkest of strokes, I was fully stoked and couldn’t be more ready for the day to begin.

Having finished up all the usual morning rituals and with petty cash in hand, I made my way down to the front desk. Now that I was myself again, I decided it might be a nice gesture to settle up my airport transfer. The attendant who’d greeted me last night was nowhere to be found but had been tag-teamed by a much cheerier replacement. Must I pay in cash or would it still possible to pay with credit card? Of course, a credit card would be just fine, especially if paying in cash would mean that I’d be troubled with running down to the nearest ATM to replenish my reserves. No problem.

Asking where I was heading that morning, she was delighted to remind me that the biggest market in this biggest city of Vietnam was only a half block down and one block over. Perfect! Nothing like haggling right off the bat charged with the buzz of coffee so strong that it’d jolt awake a tranquilized bull.

After an exhausting hour of picking my way through the thick jungle of stimulus that is the Ben Thanh Market, overloaded with pushy vendors popping out of narrow aisles trying to sell me things that I neither wanted nor needed, I was mentally pooped. Could I call it a day? That’d be about par for Day 1.

With nothing more important on the agenda that morning, I decided my best move would be to find that small quiet cafe my daughter had recommended. Obscurely occupying the corner of an intersection a few blocks away, it had seemingly escaped the attention of Instagram. Perfect. I needed some downtime.

Sitting there alone for most of that first morning, incredibly the sole patron of a beautiful cafe, perched on the edge of a nicely chill balcony almost within reach of the streets of chaos but a mile away in spirit, I instinctively knew that there really didn’t need to be anything else on the agenda that day. Though only hours old, the trip had already been a resounding success. I had found my way back to one of my happy places. Hello again, Vietnam.

Several weeks of a long, empty, gorgeously blank canvas lay between me and my return flight home. What was to come? Where would I go? Who would I meet? What would I see? Who knew? Certainly not me. I didn’t want to know. As usual, I took great comfort in all the unknowns. Too much structure would painfully detract from the whole experience.

Clacking away on a keyboard perched atop a sagging wooden shelf leaning off the edge of a cracked semi-painted railing supporting a lovely hanging garden, I took another delightful drag from a mug of beautifully prepared coffee, eased out a long-awaited contented sigh, leaned a bit further back in my comfortable chair, kicked out some happy feet, and graciously welcomed back all things Vietnamese. Hello again, Vietnam.

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

K - Found another gold mine in Korea! Remember how distraught I’d become over the prospects when research had dragged up so little back at Headquarters? If I’d only known there was no need to fret.

Now that I know where to look, all the best info on the web does seem pretty well guarded. Good thing I simply trusted my gut and bought tickets anyway. I’m beginning to understand that all it takes is arriving, immersing myself in the new culture, and figuring out their way of doing things. Overall mission metrics might actually come close to Saigon, something which I was certainly not expecting based on preliminary projections. If anything, I’ll run the risk of running out of time…

In other exciting news, I finally found a decent alternative to an essential item in the Agency’s standard issue wardrobe. Naturally, I first had to completely give up on my search; only then could a viable solution reveal itself. Should’ve been listening to you and Agent G all these years: “giving up control may become addictive.” Yada, yada, yada. I hate to say it, but I now clearly see that you two were right. But feel free to wipe that big grin off your face - it’s not becoming of you.

Once we get past your usual litany of snide comments, I’d love to hear what you actually think about this new wardrobe option. I know dropping the thick pretense must be super difficult for you, but inquiring minds want to know your real opinions...

*****

Tracking

MISSION:  J35753-2025C
DCN:      7390003
TDY:      SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
DATE:     2025-05-07
TIME:     7:19 AM KST 
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENT W, O, P
SUBJECT:  PURCHASE ORDER 114 - BRIMLESS CAP

Purchase

DESCRIPTION:  BRIMLESS CAP
STYLE:        BANDED, VENTED, COLLAPSABLE, ADJUSTABLE
SIZE:         ADULT, MENS, OSFA
MATERIAL:     100% COTTON
COLOR:        CHARCOAL, GREEN
PRICE:        44,999 KOREAN WON, EA (APPX $32 USD, EA)
QUANTITY:     2 (1 OF EACH COLOR)
MANUFACTURER: SNOWPEAK
VENDOR:       BUY LOCAL
DATE NEEDED:  ASAP

Reasons for Ordering

As many a field agent can attest to, a proper head covering is key to almost any successful outing. Whether used to cover up bed head, promote a more casual look, add warmth, provide sun or wind protection, or protect sun sensitive bare spots, a carefully chosen piece of headwear is vitally important to pack on most trips.

For field agents with male pattern baldness, it’s especially important to keep the solar rays from burning the noggin. Equally important to hair-challenged folks is to bring along an accessory that will break up the giant fields of monotony that can make up long faces, expansive foreheads, and enormous chrome domes. Besides a good solid pair of sunglasses, there’s perhaps no better article of clothing to protect one’s head from over-exposure to the elements than a hat, cap, or beanie.

Further, in these trying political times of global custerflucks and meaningless altercations, there may be times when field agents wish to obfuscate their national identities and confuse the local populace. For field agents hailing from the United States, there is often no accessory that screams “I’m American” louder than a standard issue baseball cap. At times, such bold declarations may come in handy. At others, one may be tempted to keep people wondering through the simple act of wearing something out of the norm.

While a conventional baseball cap will surely come in useful on plenty of TSA field assignments, other more sensitive situations will beg a suitable alternative.

As luck would have it, this particular field agent stumbled across a great find in the suburbs of Seoul that seems to fit the bill. As I was killing time waiting for a meeting to convene at the local field station, a rack of unusual looking hats caught my eye. They all looked strangely familiar yet were markedly different. “Could these be brimless baseball caps? Do such things even exist?!”

Though similar in appearance to standard offerings in most respects, I noticed the peculiar absence of the ubiquitous duck bill, the lack of which somehow made this intriguing choice in headwear look starkly different. Donning the accessory, I looked perhaps a tad more European than American. But how would it score when stacked up against ultralight minimalist performance metrics?

With only one way to find out, I went out on a limb and plunked down some cash. I was so pleased with the cap’s instant success over the course of the mission, I wormed my way back to the store and bought a second of a different color.

I’m happy to report that, besides achieving many of the aforementioned goals of a good head covering, the cap is amazingly packable. Unlike it’s stiff-visored cousin, it rolls up into almost nothing and fits snugly inside one’s pack without notice or causing harm - a practice that’s widely frowned upon for baseball caps due to the high potential for damage.

The brimless cap is also significantly lighter than other alternatives one may find out on the open market (save perhaps a bandana which works too but imparts an entirely different vibe), making it a great find for the die-hard ultralight minimalist who might be looking for new ways to cut down on bulk and weight while at the same time providing a slightly more put-together look.

The specific brand of hat under study (Snow Peak) comes in a wide variety of natural colors that’ll surely complement most wardrobes taken out on typical TSA field assignments. There’s certainly room for improvement for those who like to make bolder fashion statements, but field agents who prefer a more understated look and have been looking for ways to subtly confuse the masses without drawing too much attention to themselves will appreciate the currently available neutral color palettes.

While not quite as useful as a conventional baseball cap in situations involving direct overhead sunlight, especially at latitudes and altitudes where UV rays are at their strongest, this small lightweight alternative shines brightest for things like early morning shuffles to the local convenience store, schleppy breakfast gatherings, casual hangs where there might be a slight chill in the air, or for dull gray overcast days with nothing much on the agenda other than making your way down to the corner cafe to read, write, or chat with random locals who may be interested in engaging with a foreigner that they can’t quite peg.

Delightfully, I’ve found the brimless cap to be yet another useful prop for starting up conversations with locals or other world travelers. Doing something out of the norm often gives others an easy way to break the ice.

What’s more is that, unlike a thick wool, acrylic, or fleece winter beanie which is often far too hot, the brimless cap is constructed of a lightweight breathable cotton which I’ve found does best in warmer climes yet is still able to keep one snug and cozy in brisker locales.

Departing further from the likes of a conventional beanie and migrating towards the baseball cap family, the head covering also comes complete with an adjustable band in back allowing it to be cinched or loosened for heat regulation, to account for windy conditions or lack thereof, and to allow for a ponytail to poke out the back without compromising fit.

This option may be just the ticket for those sick and tired of always having to pack the same old thing. Though for some conditions, a brimless cap won’t be a suitable wholesale substitute for a standard issue baseball cap, this traveler has found that it nicely complements a minimalist ultralight wardrobe to provide a refreshing change in look, frame of mind, and color in what may otherwise be a boringly bland and monotonous set of choices that one has to pick through when scanning the slim pickings of a tiny backpack while trying to create an alternative daily getup that doesn’t bring tears to one’s eyes.

Note that this Purchase Order is for the acquisition of two caps - one charcoal gray, the other sage green. These two colors were selected for they best complement Agent J’s current wardrobe stored back in the Vault. Note that a third, lighter-hued mustard-yellow cap may be purchased at a later date for situations in which extreme solar intensities with a darker color would prove too unbearably hot.

With the potential to increase overall happiness and contentedness among ultralight minimalist field agents operating worldwide across a full spectrum of climate zones and cultures spanning multiple continents, the time has come for the brimless cap to emerge from the hazy mists and make its mark.

Index Scores

MASS:        8 - GOOD ENOUGH FOR GOVERNMENT WORK
VOLUME:      8 - HEY, WHAT'S THAT IN YOUR POCKET?
UTILITY:     8 - HOW COME THIS ISN'T A THING?
EFFICIENCY:  8 - THE CORRECT SELECT
OVERALL:     8 - LET'S GIVE IT A WHIRL

*****

K - Please touch up and route to Agents W, O & P for their review and input before pushing out to staff.

BTW, cuz I thought I might not see them again, I took the liberty of buying a couple caps using my own personal funds. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I’ll be given the thumbs up on the P.O. My thinking’s that since they mix in so well with the Agency’s “Small Backpacks, Small Budgets” ethos, reimbursement won’t be an issue.

Off to cooking class today. Hopefully, we’ll be learning how to make some top-notch kimchi. Yes! All to properly cue up another cook-off at Agent Y’s place! It’ll be hard to top last year’s “Phantabulous Pho Phest”, but that’s no reason to stop now. Hmmm…the wheels are turning… how about the “Kookmi Kimchi?” ;)

Annyeong haseyo,

J

Took me a while but I’ve now added it all up, K. I can now so plainly see why you kept asking those incessant questions about whether I wore necklaces. I finally pieced it together this afternoon as I was digging through my backpack to find my misplaced stick of lip balm. All of a sudden, I flashed back to you sitting innocently behind your desk as you pulled out your lipstick every time you’d ask me that inane question, adding emphasis by endlessly dotting and smacking while you patiently waited for my puzzled look to fade.

I’ve got only one simple retort, K. “Function over form.” No one’s trying to win any beauty contests out here in the wild. Especially yours truly. It all boils down to making the world a better, easier, more hospitable place to travel. And that all starts with pampering your lips a little.

Of all people.

But before I go any further and start in with a few quips of my own about how that oughta extend to your getup too, and how you need to complete your look this weekend by slinging an “Aqua Net-lace” around your neck to keep that 1984 Madonna doo standing tall all day long as you can scamper up the Moon Goddess Arete in high fashion, you can stop with any more sideways references to my ingenious, incredibly fashionable, and utterly indestructible lip balm necklaces.

Here it is, K. Sorry to keep you waiting so long.

*****

Tracking

MISSION:  J35781-2025H
DCN:      7390218
TDY:      CAPITOL REEF NATIONAL PARK, UTAH
DATE:     2025-09-15
TIME:     2:39 PM (MDT)
TO:       ALL FIELD AGENTS
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS R,W,K,P
SUBJECT:  TECHNIQUE MEMO 238 - SPF LIP BALM

Relevant Class

SEMINAR:     STAYING HEALTHY
INSTRUCTOR:  AGENT W
CLASS NO:    AWT-111
CLASS:       SUN PROTECTION

Background

Keeping one’s lips in tip-top shape is of the utmost importance. Owning a fully functional pair allows one to successfully form essential sounds of daily life like “oomph” or “oof” and even “ugh” but also of more challenging words like “duh” and complex expressions such as “zip it.” Further, being able to smoothly and effortlessly smack one’s lips in pleasure after eating an utterly delicious meal is an action that lends itself to a tremendous quality of life.

Other uses for lips cannot be simply dismissed as trivial, such as kissing your significant other goodbye, giving your teeth something to play with when bored or puzzled, or enabling you to happily whistle while you work.

Much to this field agent’s surprise, countless discoveries are made every year at the Travel Superlight Agency’s research facilities on additional uses for a set of smackers. One of the most important early findings, a watershed moment in the annals of the TSA, was that a pair of fully functional lips enables one to shield their teeth from the impacts of a fall. This particular field agent would have immensely benefited from the fruits of this research should it have been conducted prior to a notably spectacular childhood crash that kicked off a lifetime habit of getting scrappy out in the woods. Fortunately, this cat had more teeth and lives than a meager set of nine.

Cutting edge research being conducted to this very day will surely uncover even more incredible uses for a set of lips. A whole new universe of possibilities is just waiting to be discovered.

Challenges

Many challenges lie ahead in keeping our collective sets of lips properly maintained. Since most of us tossed away our Operations and Maintenance Manuals ages ago, many may be ignorant as to the best ways to properly take care of them. If one were to stop and take a good look around at the folks sitting right beside them, this may be abundantly clear. Besides the obvious fact that an ill-maintained set of lips won’t always do a great job of covering up a set of bad teeth, it’ll be all too apparent that benign neglect seems to be the default move for the people of most cultures.

Preventative and corrective maintenance measures for a pair of lips are too numerous to list for such a painfully short Technique Memo on a subject that deserve volumes of discussion at length. As such, field agents are encouraged to contact Agent P for a complete rundown of recommended practices. However, due to a high volume and frequency of failures in following even the most basic rules and suggestions, the Travel Superlight Agency has authorized the release of information pertaining to one of the most egregiously overlooked preventative maintenance procedures - proper lubrication.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that field agents often find themselves in compromising situations that expose their lips to unexpectedly harsh conditions. Repeated exposures to sunny situations is often the primary challenge but other typical examples include sitting in the stuffy and dry climes of an airplane, hiking or climbing at altitude, floating out onto water only to get blasted by sneaky winds and high doses of reflected sunlight, maintaining extended conversation with travel companions over super spicy meals, providing guidance to non-native speakers as to how to best tune the finer points of language phonetics, or even discussing the penetrating power of collimated UV rays and the tolls they take back at Academy labs, it’s vitally important to keep the soft puffy tissues of one’s lower face in immaculate shape to hold up to a lifetime of nearly constant use.

The primary challenge in lubing the lips while out on the road is to remember to pack a carefully selected stick of lip balm to have at the ready when needs are suddenly found to be at their greatest. A poor choice in product or keeping it in an inconvenient place (e.g., at the bottom one’s backpack) can be a recipe for disaster as the lip balm will more than likely go unused for long stretches of time.

Ugly and painful outcomes such as chapping, peeling, cracking, splitting, or worse yet, sun blistering may be the tragic end results. Such awful calamities may render a victim helpless in forming properly constructed sentences, asking well timed questions, fully answering inquiries, responding with appropriate facial expressions that coordinate well with current events, or even just blissfully whistling their favorite tunes as they ride off into the sunset.

Observations

Field operatives that’ve failed to use lip balm on a regular basis have faced a wide variety of frightening penalties. World explorers who’ve found themselves wandering into high altitude zones where the air’s been thin and the atmosphere wasn’t as effective at blocking out harmful UV rays have been especially prone to such detrimental effects. A lip balm with a decent Sun Protection Factor (that’s “SPF” for any of you out there that are only just now waking up to our new realities) can help one protect their precious smackers from being marred by extremely harsh and bright conditions.

Exacerbating an already tenuous situation is that the sudden onset of high winds may inflict additional evils on the unsuspecting traveler. Throw in a twitchy tongue or two that may be found wetting out a pair of drying lips in such conditions and you’ve got nothing but trouble ahead. As if that wasn’t all too much to bear, even the slightest of runny noses will often quickly chap up the most hardened sets of nostrils out on the circuit when subjected to such heinous winds. A matching pair of bright red lips and a pair of sensitive nostrils may not have been the souvenirs you’d been hoping to bring back home with you.

When such conditions prevail, regular repeated applications are recommended for all activities, mundane or otherwise. Failing to do so, one may find that even the most relaxing and pleasant outings will become untenable.

For more challenging pursuits, a keen observer will note that adventurers who fail to apply SPF lip balm in difficult environs may come back to civilization sooner than expected. Hence the old adage heard only in the most dire moments of despair: “Those Who Fail to Heed Best Maintenance Practices for Their Lips Shall Not Pass!”

Through many cycles of failed field tests conducted by a multitude of nationalities across the world in a variety of different settings, environments, and climates, it’s long been proven that the simple act of carrying lip balm should not be overlooked. Despite this fact, mistakes are still being made today, even as we speak.

Perhaps the most basic error made is that many field agents think the heavy lifting is done once they’ve packed away their stick of balm after applying it the first time. No. One must frequently take it out for regular reapplications.

Strong deterrents like storing one’s stick at the bottom of their backpack, tucking it away in successive layers of ziplock bags, or worse, leaving it in its original packaging with seals intact, the price tag still visible, and the receipt in the glovebox, have all proven to be extremely detrimental to properly preserving one’s soft tissues. While these poor practices may not ultimately interfere with the ability to hail mission success, a field agent who’s forgotten to properly apply lip balm may pay a steep price back at Headquarters as they struggle to eloquently debrief colleagues who may be thoroughly distracted by disgraceful lips that look like they’ve been through the cheese grater.

Solutions

Fortunately, for the aspiring field agent, a myriad of effective solutions has been queued up to address these perils. The majority of the following recommended practices have been proven to be more than half-baked with time.

First and foremost, selecting a lip balm with a high SPF factor is paramount. The higher the better. Sticks with ratings greater than SPF 30 are hard to find (short of applying the awful heavy white paste of solid zinc oxide), but in this field agent’s experience, anything with a higher rating is typically unnecessary unless the mission involves highly reflective surfaces such as those seen during boating, glacier travel, or high altitude mountaineering activities.

Taste and smell are two other critical factors to keep in mind. Pandering to one’s basic instincts to successfully eat, talk, and breathe, one may find that bits and pieces of salve will part with the lips and enter one’s mouth to make the long perilous journey to the tongue. Licking one’s lips in the process will only accelerate this slow motion car wreck. Grody garnish indeed.

No matter the cause, foul smelling or bad tasting balm will quite simply fall unused. Field agents will find themselves hesitating to reapply poor formulations that fail to meet even the most basic minimum baseline standards for these two crucial metrics.

There are plenty of good choices out on the open market where researchers have spent much valuable time, money, and other resources perfecting flavor and scent profiles. My advice is to take the time to find the one you like so that you’ll want to use it often. Just be sure you find one that’s not too tasty lest you spend all your time applying and licking it off instead of doing what you headed out the door to do in the first place.

Melting point is another commonly overlooked detail that could easily make or break an adventure. Subjecting certain salves to warm temperatures will result in carrying around puddles of useless mush. Seemingly harmless acts like leaving a stick of lip balm sitting out in the sun can lead to sticky situations that are messy to backpedal out of.

It’s recommended that travelers conduct their own carefully controlled experiments back at home, complete with controls, lab journals, timers, witnesses, scientific peer reviews, and the like to find a variety of lip balm that best suits the climate and conditions that they’ll soon be subjected to (our apologies, the results of Agency research on such matters remains highly classified and cannot yet be released to the public).

Once you find a lip balm to your liking, think of a good way to keep it handy. An easy-to-reach stick will be a heavily-used stick. Typically, there’ll be a convenient little pocket on an article of clothing you wear out on assignment to hold small items such as these. Use it.

Another option is to fashion a necklace made of a decent length of nylon string duct taped around a stick of lip balm. Such a work of wonder will complement just about any wardrobe imaginable and would be a wonderful accessory for the red carpets. Wearing such a masterpiece will not only be the subject of much fawning attention, but will also surely lead to such conversation starters like “dude…hold on…before we go an further, we wanna know right now where you got that sweet-ass necklace.”

So go out and try a few. Trust me, finding a fave will miraculously transform all your travels, yielding nothing but remarkable results in keeping your lips soft and supple throughout all your earthly journeys to come.

Index Scores

MASS:        8 - DUDE, YOU'RE LOOKING A LITTLE SKINNY THESE DAYS
VOLUME:      8 - A DROP IN THE BUCKET
UTILITY:     9 - I'M ALL EARS
EFFICIENCY:  7 - IT'S HOWDY DOODY TIME
OVERALL:     8 - IT HAMS MY BISCUITS IS ALL

*****

That’s a wrap, K. I’ll check in after some pie. I can smell it from here. Yum! They don’t call it Fruita for nothin.

Wait a minute…I think it’s just this new lip balm I’m smelling. How sad. Doesn’t even taste like pie.

J

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

Hi K. Wrapping things up over here in South Korea. Last day out on assignment and I’ve got a long laundry list of things to do, not the least of which is to get ready for some serious mass transit tomorrow - subway, train, flight, rideshare, subway, train, bus, and finally more rideshare back to Headquarters. This, of course, means transitioning my gear back to extended travel mode.

It’s at times like these when we get to make full use of the whole bag of tricks we learned back at the Academy - Agent W’s classes up in Advanced World Travel, Agent Y’s drills down in Basic Needs Reduction, and Agent O’s brown bags over at Skill Honing Seminars as to how to best deploy some of the most advanced gadgetry know to mankind.

With HQ’s support, we can now shape our own destinies, develop new innovative approaches, and take classes and training that will actually help us work towards our common end goal of perfecting the art of ultralight minimalism. So refreshing that we can also now choose our own preferred equipment that’ll best suits the needs of the mission without needing prior approval from the top for any tiny deviation from the norm. Now that we’ve been able to experiment a little, make mistakes, learn from them, and fully grow into more well rounded field agents (yeah, K, round - as in too much street food), we can now breathe a bit easier and make better, well thought-out choices that do more good than harm.

Let me give you something else to grin about, K. Since we’re now solely responsible for the successes and failures of our missions, isn’t it only right that we should now be able to take things along that others might shake their heads in disbelief? Yes, of course it is! And we’re taking full advantage of those new liberties too. As we get to the bottom of a problem, it’s been so nice having the latitude to use the best tool for the cleanest sweep.

This leads to a million dollar question. Would the TSA ever have been able to stumble across what perhaps is the most important single element of a minimalist ultralight agent’s standard pack without first being able to try, fail, modify, redesign, stumble, learn, incorporate, redeploy, etc, etc etc? No! Of course not!

*****

Tracking

MISSION:  J35753-2025C
DCN:      7390037
TDY:      SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
DATE:     2025-05-19
TIME:     8:24 AM KST
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       N/A
SUBJECT:  PURCHASE ORDER 117 - WOOL BOXER BRIEFS

Purchase

DESCRIPTION:  WOOL BOXER BRIEFS
STYLE:        PRINTED, TAGLESS
SIZE:         BEST FIT
MATERIAL:     100% MERINO WOOL
COLOR:        ANY
PRICE:        BEST AVAILABLE
QUANTITY:     ONE
MANUFACTURER: SMARTWOOL
VENDOR:       ANY
DATE NEEDED:  ASAP

Reasons for Ordering

Some of the most critically important articles of clothing that a minimalist ultralight traveler should carry with them at all times are a few pairs of wool briefs. Whether it be hot, cold, snowy, sandy, humid, dry, wet, arid, or anything in between, these undergarments are a fantastic choice for just about any undertaking imaginable.

For more than two decades, I’ve used wool as essential underpinnings for all my missions. In days of yore, I brought cotton along as the preferred material but ultimately decided that it dried much too slowly after laundering and didn’t wick moisture well enough to support the fast pace of ultralight adventures. For any of you who already own wool in your wardrobe, surely you’ve come to know how well it performs in just about any condition.

This Purchase Order is for nothing less than 100% merino wool, the best available material on the market for comfort, warmth, and ease of laundering all at a fraction of the weight of thicker and heavier woolen options and most other alternative natural or synthetic varieties. While many of its close cousins tend to be itchy and uncomfortable, merino wool stems off irritableness and promotes a natural easy going calm. The few extra dollars you’ll spend on this high grade material will be a great investment in yourself and all your adventures to come for it’ll give you one of the best possible starts to your day as you head out the door.

Merino wool’s excellent wicking properties are unparalleled. Its quick dry properties will not only will keep you heading up the mountain in confidence and comfort in stormy weather and during intense bursts of activity but also in style as you negotiate the more casual undertakings of routine world travel.

As an added bonus, the weight to warmth ratio of the material is phenomenal, falling somewhere between “hard to beat” and “holy moly” at the far upper end of the scale. You just can’t shake a stick at these kinds of metrics. Once you’ve taken such high performing lightweight garments out for a spin, you may just find yourself leaving your collection of thick wool cable-knit fisherman’s sweaters behind as you make your way to the docks.

At first, I seriously doubted whether the wonders of wool would hold up for daily use in humid equatorial climates, thinking that the material would be far too hot and stuffy. Much to my surprise, my concerns and consternations were quickly dashed after repeated and successful use in such tropical locales. It’s still a mystery to me as to why it works so well. A little background research would be enlightening, but let’s save all that hard work for the more industrious engineers and scientists out on the circuit.

The path to enlightenment will surely lead to one inevitable question. Why doesn’t a sheep doff its wool coat and pick up a light and breezy summer dress for the hot summer season? Doesn’t it shed its thick insulating layers when temperatures soar? Of course not! And neither should you. Wool does surprisingly well at regulating heat whether one finds themselves suddenly transported to a hot, cold, or more moderate climate.

Taking it a step further, ever wonder why sheep don’t bathe? Without diving into an extensive literature search, suffice it to say that the evidence clearly demonstrates that they don’t need to. Because wool is naturally anti-microbial, it’ll hold up to many hours and sometimes even days of heavy use without picking up suspicious smells or breeding things unwanted. In fact, it’s likely the cotton that you bring instead that’ll stink up your pack the most.

It’d be wise for the newbie to the ultralight minimalist traveling scene to heed the knowledge gained from the entire body of TSA field agents. On both domestic and international assignments alike, it’s been proven time and time again that only a few pairs of wool boxers are necessary no matter what the mission. When operatives have packed more than three or four pairs for their adventures, they almost always find themselves needlessly lugging around a bunch of barely used, or worse, unused underwear. This has proven the case for even the longest trips on the circuit, those which span years or months, not just weeks or days.

The primary reason for submitting this Purchase Order is to replace a worn out tattered pair. Older models never seemed to live that long, not even holding up to a few extended outings. Thankfully, I’ve been finding the newer styles to have much longer lifespans. I expect that this new pair may see double or even triple the life of the old one.

As you read this, it may be a bit hard to believe that wool would make a great choice for such close quarters, especially for those with sensitive skin. All I can say is give it a whirl. At least once. Just make sure your trial run uses something made of a material no less than high grade 100 percent merino wool offered by a reputable manufacturer (it’ll be worth the added cost). Also, take a close look at where they put those annoying seams; poor placement can cause you trouble out on the road.

For world travelers and adventurers alike, the invention of wool briefs was an unexpected game changer. With its whiz-bang weight-to-volume ratios and high performance metrics, there’s perhaps no better upgrade that an ultralight minimalist can make to their standard pack.

Index Scores

MASS:        7 - WE'RE GOING TO PUMP YOU UP
VOLUME:      7 - I THINK I CAN FIT IT IN
UTILITY:     9 - WISH I WOULD'VE THOUGHT OF THAT
EFFICIENCY:  9 - SWEET DUDE!
OVERALL:     8 - LET'S DO IT

*****

Yeah, I know, K. Rough draft indeed. Please give it a few passes and let me know if it’s still got legs. If it needs a lot of work, I’m afraid I won’t have time to dive into it again until I’m back at HQ.

Truth be told, I wrote this in haste so I’d have more time this morn to jam in some last minute eleventh hour stuff in true trademark style. Gotta leave time for some last minute shopping at Korea Mart! Nothing like interesting, exotic snacky stuff to bring back home to share.

I’ll try to be more careful this time, however. The spice scale is more than a few degrees higher over here. Surprisingly, my tolerance for added kick has skyrocketed. I’m even starting to crave the extra heat. “Spicy?” they ask. “Yes, please...a lot.”

See you bright and early Monday morning.

J

Just up the street and around the corner from my hotel sits a small quiet cafe perched up on a second floor balcony overlooking a relatively calm but brilliantly verdant street corner in the otherwise noisy and chaotic yet charming city of Hanoi, Vietnam.

At this particular moment down here closer to ground level, things seem tranquil, peaceful, almost stately. Far enough above and away from a few neighborhood locals sitting on their doorsteps waking up to the new day and the throngs of tourists that’ll soon be seen scuttling about trying to pack in as many must-sees and must-dos as time allows, this balcony is a restful haven in an otherwise busy place.

Hanoi can be overwhelming. With so many discoveries to be made around each and every street corner while out exploring the city on foot, a short timer’s feet will surely tire. But right here, right now hanging out on this small balcony at this mellow hour of early morning of a bright new cheery day, my feet are happy to be free and at rest as my fingers casually tap away at these keys.

As my tenth day in Hanoi nears, I’m just now delightfully realizing that I’ve found another one of my “happy places” sitting right here on this stool, looking down from this very balcony, perched up in this wonderful cafe, nestled deep within my favorite neighborhood, perfectly located in the heart of this incredible city, a fabulous stopover in one of my all time favorite countries of this big beautiful world of ours.

My mind is free to wander in a place like this. Thoughts such as “just when will my ‘day’ really start?” populate the busy morning ticker tape. “Was breakfast at the rooftop restaurant of the boutique hotel this morning not part of my day?”

“How about the two minute stroll down the block to get to this cafe so that I could fully kick my jet lagged head into high gear with a strong jolt of bold Vietnamese coffee that’ll once again defeat the weak earlier efforts of lame hotel coffee? Does that count?”

“Or does my day only start once I’ve finished composing this draft post, drop the keyboard into my pocket, pay up at the till, and head back to the room for a token nod to those still practicing my former line of business?”

I used to think the day would only begin in earnest once I started to tick things off my to-do and to-see lists. Now that I’ve grown older, tired, wiser, and more contemplative, my travels have started to transform. Slow travel has become not only necessary but also relished. Why not do nothing at all this morning but sit right here on this balcony and watch the world go by?

The reality is that I’ve been rediscovering a deeply buried trait that I’ve been ignoring for far too long. A long lost facet that I’ve enjoyed exposing, dusting off, and buffing out. How can a guy like me, who’s historically packed twenty pounds of activities into a ten pound day, now manage to do so little? Wrong question. Incorrect assessment. Successes are now far more intangible and difficult to measure than they’ve ever been yet I still consider many of them my greatest accomplishments.

Nonetheless, the end result is the same. After so many years of constantly flitting and fluttering about, the many stops along the way have worn me out. Once flapping with excitement to soar up over the next horizon, this old butterfly’s wings now tire out all too quickly. The dewy wet wings of my eager younger years have been drying up and are getting a bit droopy. Quite distressingly, a few crusty nodules are now mottling what had once been a full and fresh vibrant display. Slow travel is now not only necessary but a must-do for these aging wings.

Refreshingly, what I’ve come to discover in recent years is that some of the nicest flower beds around have been sitting right here in my own garden all along. Sometimes even planted right beside me. Yes indeed, these are the same flowers that in past instances I’d simply let fade into the background. At best, I would’ve just taken a quick mental note not to trample on their petals as I hurried past them on my way down the path to get to yet another place, another time, another world.

While the more commonly known “slow travel” movement encourages people to take their time to get to know a destination without the stresses of a hectic over-packed itinerary, “small travel” harnesses the concept that some of the best finds are actually right there next to you in your own backyard, only to be discovered if you were to give yourself the freedom to slow down to a complete stop, take a look around, sniff them out, and allow the tens of thousands of intense details that surround you in your immediate environment to take register in what would otherwise be a head that’s already up the road by a few mental clicks, or botanical garden or two if you still want to continue flapping along with that butterfly motif.

With all the excitement that comes with landing in a foreign country, exploring a vibrant world city, and delving into the wonders of a strange new culture, lately I’ve been finding that I enjoy taking it not only slower but smaller too. A few regular reminders from some old trusty friends is all it usually takes to nudge me in the right direction. One of the best tools I carry to encourage me to take it small is something I’m already in the habit of packing: my flip flops.

Before expounding on the virtues of sandals, I’ll be the first to admit that this old dude’s never had a beautiful foot. Let me be the first to tell you that owning a pair of often stinky, sometimes dirty, and always ugly feet has been nothing but sheer joy, especially with their crooked toe joints and bonus sets of gnarly ingrown toenails. Yes indeed, I’ve been living a wicked warlock’s wildest dreams (this is precisely the moment in time when that cute little butterfly motif you may still be holding onto will instantly vaporize in a flash of bright light and a small poof).

Too frequently crammed into the binding confines of climbing shoes by summer, the pinching hurt lockers of telemark boots by winter, and the stuffy quarters of dress shoes by workday, the state of affairs for my poor toesies quickly unraveled. As time marched on, problems with my feet took center stage. Headliners included stunning surprise appearances by The Black Toenails and unforgettable pop up jam sessions from A Fungus Amongus. Though much despised by all, Not The Brightest Tendonitis soon became regulars as they wormed their way into the lineup with show stopping performances.

Thankfully over the last decade, I’ve been able to wear more forgiving footwear. At any chance I get, I love giving my feet a breather with some heaven-sent time spent in a pair of simple sandals.

For world traveling, despite their extra bulk and weight, my orthotic flip flops have found a permanent spot in my backpack. They’re bagged, of course, to keep the stink in when not in active use. Perfect for the occasional stroll across the common spaces of a hotel, guesthouse, or dorm, they also shine for short casual jaunts around the neighborhood.

I now frequently find myself purposely wearing my sandals to force a change in the way I think about a destination. Because I can’t travel any great distance in them without triggering annoying chronic injuries, wearing flip flops forces me to not only “slow down” but also to “small down.” Wearing flip flops out the door forces me to ease the pace, appreciate the finer points, and take register of some of the familiar faces around the neighborhood so my greetings aren’t instantly shrugged off as scraps of meaningless nothingness shed from the masses of fleeting tourists rushing by. I’ve found slow travel to be a fantastic way to really get to know well the blocks surrounding my new home away from home.

Flip flops have now transformed all of my travels. Daily destinations often become more states of mind than anything else; ones that allow me to stop and take notice. The small architectural details fanning their displays up and down the block, the stately banyan tree at the intersection up ahead prominently standing in as the big local monument, and the glorious flower boxes adorning the windowsill across the street that receive the loving doting attention from the elderly neighbor who loves wearing purple all work together to remind me that it’s the people around us and the things that they dedicate their loving care and attention to in our daily lives that matter most.

Slowly strolling along in a pair of sandals, the tiniest of details start to emerge from the blurry mists and gain clarity. The taxing efforts of always being on the move begin to dissipate. The constant fretting about where to go next eases up, fades away, and reveals that what’s been sitting right there in front of me the whole time will end up being the most memorable and cherished memories of the entire trip. The soothing almost meditative whisper of my flip flops lightly touching the pavement underfoot leads me to a special time and place, right here, right now, in this very spot.

I’m due to check out of my hotel this morning and move onto a different neighborhood on the other side of town. How sad. How can I let a place like this go? The only thing that makes sense is to extend my stay. Just give me just a few more nights in the same hotel in this same old neighborhood, down around the corner and up the next block, so that I can postpone having to say the inevitable goodbyes to all my newfound friends, human or otherwise.

As the last of the morning mist burns off, another wonderful realization comes to light just as I’m about ready to pack up and head out. Hanoi has stolen my heart again.

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

K - Hello again from Taiwan. It’s now nearing the three week mark and I still haven’t completely adjusted. You know I’m an early riser back home but this is ridiculous. I’ve been crashing out by 9:00 and waking up around 3:00. Six hours is only barely enough to keep up this pace.

Throughout the island, most Taiwanese seem to like to start their evenings right about the time I’m winding down. The net effect is that a couple important mission objectives have already fallen by the wayside. On the flip side, those early mornings tasks? Got em nailed, K! Especially today. Starting a Monday morning at 2:30 is one for the record books so long as you don’t count alpine starts and early efforts as a consulting engineer.

I’d love to blame it on a rock hard mattress but I can’t. Just like the reviews said, that’s gotta be the firmest bed I’ve ever slept on. Hands down. But you also know my opinions on that front, K. With all that training under my belt, you’d think I’d have slept like a rock! Nope. Fully awake before the night was even half over.

“When in Rome,” K. As unsolicited this may be, I thought I’d take a chunk of this newfound free time in the darkest half of the night to write up a Technique Memo on fully leveraging jet lag overseas. You know, taking a good look at what may be first perceived as a negative, and flipping it on its head. I was thinking Agent W might be able to use this for his AWT 256 class, Sleeping in Distress, especially if coupled with the sleep challenge down in Basic Needs Reduction (I forget the exact drill number, K. Should be seared somewhere here in the back of my head. Was it BNR 81??).

BTW, in a few hours, I’ll likely be putting the finishing touches on this TM from what I believe is the only coffee shop in Keelung to open at the “early hour” of 7:00 AM. Wouldn’t that be almost time for some lunch? Why do all the local cafes open only at 11:00? Good grief, that’s way too late in the day. Some of us need to get to sleep shortly after the sun goes down. Finishing up my morning cup of joe at noon would be a complete disaster…

*****

Tracking

MISSION:  J35785-2025K
DCN:      7390252
TDY:      KEELUNG, TAIWAN
DATE:     2025-11-17
TIME:     7:14 AM (GMT+8)
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS R,W 
SUBJECT:  TECHNIQUE MEMO 249 - LEVERAGING PRE-DAWN JET LAG

Relevant Class

SEMINAR:     BASIC NEEDS REDUCTION
INSTRUCTOR:  AGENT W
CLASS NO:    AWT-256
CLASS:       SLEEPING IN DISTRESS

Background

Whether it be for work or play, field agents are often tasked with flying to distant lands in completely different time zones than what they’ve grown accustomed to. Due to the miracles of jet travel, one may be quickly flung far across the globe to a strange new culture located in an altogether different time and place. Quite abruptly, the world will have been massively upended and one’s biological clock will have had hardly the chance to adequately respond in any respectable form or fashion. New hours of operation could easily be 8 to 12 hours ahead or behind.

The difficulty of radically changing one’s daylight hours is particularly acute when working on assignment. Should the hardest tasks in the new time zone be scheduled for 2 A.M. in the old, typically all that can be said is “good luck” before leaving someone to their work. It’s for this very reason that supervisors in some of the more far reaching field stations give a little slack to newly transplanted agents as they attempt to complete their first rounds of duties overseas. Production standards are lowered as a matter of course until agents are fully adjusted to new cultural norms.

Challenges

During spells of heavy jet lag, in addition to common complaints of feeling weak, tired, crabby, and exhausted, one may also find themselves feeling disoriented, puzzled, confused, dazed, and in the worst cases, profoundly befuddled. The data show that even the most hardened field agents are prone to sudden cat naps at inopportune moments throughout their days such as while riding the bus or subway, resting their feet at the local cafe, or upon succumbing to the alluring temptation to “just lie down for a minute” whenever a flat surface conveniently presents itself.

Quickly recovering from these fuzzy states makes for a much more productive mission. Seasoned agents know this, and it’s precisely why they’re apt to take up a number of sensible practices that’ll keep them from spiraling dismally downward into fruitless spellbound states. Agents are much more effective on the ground when they can think clearly on their feet so that they may properly assess and respond to quickly changing needs.

Observations

For a field agent that calls North America their home, when heading back east over the Atlantic Ocean to Europe, Africa, or the Mediterranean, the tendency will be to stay up late in the new time zone. When the clock springs forward, it’s likely that an operative won’t feel sleepy until the wee hours of the newly rescheduled night, and they may find themselves sleeping far past what would normally be considered a reasonable waking hour. Why? Because this is the pattern that’ll most closely match the firmly entrenched biological clock that they’ve carried with them from home.

As luck would have it, this pattern pairs up well with many trans-Atlantic cultures where the fun doesn’t start until an hour when so many of us are already in bed. As aspiring TSA agents will learn at the Academy, one may find it an effective strategy to never change their biological clock when sent out on a European mission. Surprisingly, some agents may find that they’re still able to successfully complete all their tasks without ever having to adjust to a more conventional sleep-at-night schedule.

So long as one can successfully ignore the color of the sky, come equipped with a functional nighttime wardrobe, and deploy a few handy tools when in time of need (such as an eye mask and a set of earplugs), it’s quite possible that an agent won’t ever need to veer away from their long established sleep schedule. Case in point, one senior TSA operative has successfully mastered this technique and can happily stay up all night long and sleep his days away while visiting some of the Continent’s most vibrant destinations.

In stark contrast, the collective experience of TSA agents heading over to Asian field stations has been the exact opposite. Travelers flying far to the west of their native time zones are far more likely to crash out at a time that could easily pass as “early evening” and rise at an early morning hour that would make most people cry.

For these “early birds,” it’ll be the first half of the day that’ll be the most enjoyable and rewarding. It’s often during the pre-dawn hours of a new culture when the productivity of these field agents will spike. Sprinting right out of the starting blocks will feel natural to these folks and will often lead to the some of the most exciting discoveries of the day. Conversely, for a “night owl,” who only comes to life at the tail end of a long afternoon, it’ll be far easier to get their work done at night only after humming along for hours at low idle.

As such, the Travel Superlight Agency prefers to send certain members of its team back east while it sends the others out west. A keen observer of TSA practices will notice that morning people are usually sent to Asian destinations whereas those who prefer to burn the midnight oil are most often assigned to European, Mediterranean, or African field stations.

This particular technique memo’s been written for early birds who will be sent out west to work over in Asia. Agent Y will be writing up a companion TM under separate cover on best practices for field agents heading back east. Recommended best practices will dramatically differ between the two.

Solutions

Asian-bound morning people who travel far to the west of their normal time zones will find that their energies begin to tail off in the late afternoon, dropping sharply after sunset. Doing any kind of productive work in these early evening hours of darkness may be especially challenging.

As such, whenever possible, it’ll usually be best for North American field agents to “front load” their work activities. Taking care of the most important business items first, early in the morning, will often be the best plan as there’ll be a high likelihood that the quality of work tasks conducted after dinner will be sub-par. Being slow to adapt to a radically different time zone will mean that the hours that they’ll feel at their best will be while everyone else is still fast asleep.

The best way to tackle this problem is to fully leverage what at first may be perceived as a fully disadvantageous situation. For example, should a field agent find themselves desperately looking for some peace, solitude, and a bit of elbow room in a giant congested world city like Tokyo, Taipei, or Saigon, they may need to look no further than to wander out the door before the break of day to find that extra space. For full fledged introverts, this may be a dream come true. But won’t most places be closed, you ask? Why, yes. Of course. However, that’s nothing that a little out-of-the-box thinking can’t fix.

A careful study of destinations will likely reveal that some of the things on one’s to-do list may never actually close. Hours of operation will be around the clock. This mostly applies to places like famous landmarks, religious sites, pocket parks, public art installations, scenic view points, and other outdoor attractions. But there may be other unexpected locations too.

Delightfully, what one may find is that the character of their chosen destination will take on an entirely different quality over the pre-dawn hours, many times for the better. Stark contrasts can often be drawn between a place’s appearance, presentation, and overall feel over the course of a single day or night, possibly leading one to believe that they were seeing two completely different places. Top tourist sites that are densely packed in the late hours of the day are often completely deserted in the early morning hours, allowing one to see them in refreshingly unobstructed states, often with incredible lighting in the foreground, background, or if one’s lucky, both.

Between other important tasks, a field agent who takes full advantage of a sleepless situation may be able to visit some massively popular tourist sites with hardly a soul in sight. This would include hugely impacted top tier world famous tourist destinations located in the world’s biggest cities. An agent may find that early morning outings become the major highlights of their trip, thereby providing a wonderful feedback loop for starting almost everyday overseas before dawn.

If you can somehow will yourself into believing that there may be no better choice than to drag yourself out of bed at a super early morning hour to head out and see a glorious must-see tourist site, you may just find yourself freshly immersed in a beautiful, awe-inspiring new world that’s uncrowded, well-lit, and free of the horrible distractions of pushy vendors, glaring sunlight, stifling heat, and endless waves of Fakebook InstaChatbots that would otherwise be marching along that narrow strip of tired pavement up ahead on their way to see what’s supposed to be an incredibly enchanting jaw-dropping hot spot but ends up being a giant, intolerable, $#!* show flustercluck that they can’t wait to leave despite having spent so much time, money, and energy just getting there.

I can safely say that the vast majority of the “most beautiful moments” I’ve witnessed working as a TSA travel agent have been in the early morning hours of the day. Setting aside some of the more productive and extremely rewarding tasks that a field agent may be assigned to as they work directly with the local people in a fascinating new culture, it’s so often during these early moments of solitude and reflection when life shines at its best in high resolution and full fidelity.

So as you find yourself tossing and turning sleeplessly on a firmer than firm mattress, just take a moment to think about the possibility of seeing your destination cast in an entirely different light. It may take only but a few steps down a dark hallway to slip out the back door and experience something new in an exciting unexpected way.

Or perhaps the better call will be to flip over the pillow to the cold side and hope that sleep takes you away again. You decide. It’s your journey, your bed, your time, and your experience.

*****

K - Phew. Made it to the cafe. First customer! Saw that coming hours ago.

I’ll send this off to you for a quick read thru once I get back to the station. Can’t trust the WIFI here for such sensitive matters. Just imagine the chaos that would ensue if this memo were to be intercepted unencrypted…yikes.

What else to do with my day? I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that I’ve already ticked off a few things out pounding the pavement earlier this morn. Nonetheless, the To-Do list is only growing, K. Always more than meets the eye when it comes to these assignments! I’m sure the schedule will be jam packed right up to the very end.

BTW, since I know you’re a fan, this morning’s sunrise was off the charts. Rained heavily overnight. Fully wetted out the docks. Gotta say “Red skies in the morning, sailors warning” makes for a beautiful start despite what it portends.

Hey! Wait-just-a-minute! Didn’t I see somewhere that the Keelung “night” market runs 24 hours? Street food at this hour?! Come on. You gotta be kidding me. That’d be spot on! See ya.

J

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

Hi K. Reporting in on Agent P’s new RFID blocking passport sleeve. Looks like he finally did it. Remember a few Fridays ago when P called me down to the TSA Design Lab to check out the new revised prototype with less than an hour before I had to leave? Hey P, how about a little more notice next time?! That was quite the scramble. We all know it’s no easy feat to get down and back from the Design Lab with time to spare.

Listen to how it played out, K. First, I had to find that nondescript doorway that’s down near the end of the 06. You know, the one that looks just like a hundred other portals? I almost walked right by it. That camouflage worked all too well. Naturally, once I found the right door, I made myself look busy while I patiently waited for traffic to clear so I could discretely duck out. Good lord, K. That wasn’t easy. Carts, bicycles, agents on foot zipping up and down the 06. Precious minutes wasted!

Once I made my way out, I hurried down the ramps to the primaries. Thankfully, Retinal, Facial, and Fingers biometrics all went smoothly this time. But then came the dreaded secondaries. Agent W had to personally escort me through with his override codes just to speed things up. As to exactly why lockdown wasn’t trigged with all that hubbub, I have no idea.

As if the slowdown at each checkpoint wasn’t enough, why on earth is the Design Lab such a long hike down from Admin? All those walkways, ramps, portals, and stairways. Holy moly. No wonder there are so many handrails and random places to sit. Good thing I skipped out on my morning walk that day. Who knew that so much work could be done just off 06 Bay?

So what exactly was all the fuss about? Why on earth was I being asked to pay Agent P such an urgent visit? Much to my dismay, I found out that P had me hustle all the way down there, through every newfangled state-of-the-art security scanner known to mankind, for the sole purpose of picking up his brand new, super low-tech, dimwitted passport RFID blocker sleeve just so that I could take it out for a test run. Good lord. Not sure it was worth all that extra stress and anxiety.

Nevertheless, here’s the report. Thankfully, Agent W coached me back into a better head space on the way back up to Admin. I think I can now submit this in good conscience.

*****

Tracking

MISSION:  J35753-2025C
DCN:      7390023
TDY:      SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
DATE:     2025-05-17
TIME:     7:56 AM KST
TO:       ALL FIELD AGENTS
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS R,W,P,K 
SUBJECT:  PROTOTYPE REPORT 156 - RFID BLOCKING SLEEVE

Equipment

NAME:     RFID BLOCKING SLEEVE
NO:       MUL-SLV-0014
STYLE:    PROTECTIVE POUCH, RFID SHIELDED, SINGLE POCKET
SIZE:     STANDARD PASSPORT FIT
COLOR:    MATTE BLACK

Background

It’s surprising how much wear and tear passports receive as they wearily trudge along world borders looking ahead in the longing hopes of landing on “GO.”

Things can get ugly out there as a passport’s exchanged between scores of grubby little fingers, riffled through by impatient immigration agents, smashed and smooshed onto dirty optical scanners, slid through the tight narrows of beat-up bar code readers, flattened onto old smudgy copy machines, and last but not least, thumbed through by forgetful Travel Superlight Agents looking for random bits of trivia that’ve somehow been deemed critical info for entering into foreign states. This is on top of all the bumps and dings passports receive back at Headquarters as they’re processed, sorted, conveyed, and stored, only to be retrieved a short time later and pulled back through the whole process again.

Considering the life span of a typical passport can be as long as ten years and that the renewal process for obtaining a shiny new one can test even the most patient agents out there, it only makes sense that operatives adopt best practices to extend the lives of their passports with the latest and greatest advancements in protective equipment.

Observations

In its infancy, the Travel Superlight Agency didn’t require its field agents to store passports in protective cases or coverings. Consequently, at mission debriefs during those early years, it was not uncommon to hear horror stories that would steal the room. Wild accounts ranged from rangy hotel night clerks that mistook passport booklets for passport cards, grumpy immigration agents who carelessly handed back documents by stuffing them through tiny window portals, and even (brace yourselves) ghastly encounters with sloppy cheeseburgers. I’d share some pictures but I’m afraid that you wouldn’t be able to forgive me. Once witnessed, you can’t “unsee” these horrible events.

For most field agents back in the day, once 8 or 9 years had rolled around, their scrappy passport booklets looked quite unstately and smelled awkwardly of wayward wildebeests. Being well overdue for replacement, ten years often couldn’t come fast enough. Even the most hardened field agents found it truly embarrassing to present their passports. Upon digging them out to present to authorities, anxieties would rise and blood pressures would spike as they tried to melt away into the background.

With loose threads poking out at the edges, worn leather covers that had seen better days, and bar codes that could easily be mistaken for dirty smudges, these tatty docs and the agents that owned them were shunted off to the slow lanes for further inspection and the dreaded manual key-in. Back at Headquarters, TSA staff could often be heard begging and pleading with their supervisors for more forgiving domestic assignments until their renewals came due.

The ultimate fate of these aging passports is a sorry tale that’s far too powerful to tell without stirring up these long-suppressed memories. Skipping over all the tough stuff, suffice it to say that these old documents were never to be seen again.

It’s quite cringy to think about all the damage that’s been done over the years on account of such disgraceful passports. Inevitable questions like “could things have turned out differently?” and “what would’ve happened?” or even “is this what it’s all come to?” were often heard by agents heading up the hallways in distress upon retrieving raggedy documents from the Vault. Thankfully, the TSA listened and is now able to offer field agents a palatable solution.

Opinions

Through many years of inventive experimentation involving countless numbers of field agents testing a seemingly endless string of rickety prototype renditions, the Agency has never been closer to meeting its end goal of solving this horrible problem once and for all as it leverages new technology in product development. The TSA has fabricated and is now testing an exciting new innovative product that could be a game changer for passports worldwide.

A series of critical breakthroughs back at the Think Tank led to a watershed discovery that the best way to prolong the life of one’s passport is to store it in something that actually protects it. Engineers spent many days and nights working long hours without break to develop a new cutting edge product that can best meet this tall challenge: an envelope.

To add to all the buzz and excitement of this groundbreaking discovery, scientists were able to prove out through a series of complex and rigorous lab tests that the weight of an envelope is essentially negligible, weighing in at a mere 0.22 ounces.

I’m honored to have been selected to announce some of the advanced features of this bold new TSA prototype. First, the envelopes are now viable. Prior iterations suffered from a lack of openings which made them cumbersome to use. Others contained flap glues that were later proven to be fatally toxic. This new streamlined model features a wide slot that permits one to safely slide a full size passport in and out of the sleeve without damage even under the most trying of circumstances.

Next, the envelope is offered only in a sleek slim-fit style, much improved over its more cavernous predecessors. This last change was made as a result of countless field tests which conclusively proved that “smaller is better” when it comes to lugging your belongings through immigration.

Last but not least, by harnessing groundbreaking technology that’s barely decades old, the Agency now constructs its passport protectors out of RFID blocking materials. This daring new approach keeps sensitive information contained on one’s passport out of the hands of opportunistic digital thieves that may be lurking around poorly lit corners of airport security lines with big scary chip readers hiding under overcoats that have not yet been doffed for the x-ray machines and body scanners up ahead despite all the repeated reminders and announcements.

Recommendations

With the number of past prototypes too many to count, I can now proudly proclaim that the Agency has developed a winning passport protector design. The latest so-called “Alpine Rivers” iteration performs so well that I can now recommend it be used by all agents without further modification. To celebrate this important success, I suggest the team reconvene back at HQ to not only eat donuts but also to see if this revolutionary RFID-blocking envelope technology can be extended to protect other critical field equipment such as credit cards, drivers licenses, and other impending chip-embedded gadgetry that Agent P might have up his sleeve.

My only critique relates to the envelope’s banal appearance. It looks just like an envelope. I understand Agent P’s argument that, because a passport should normally be stashed away somewhere safe and secure and out of the line of sight of shifty eyeballs, it’s wholly unimportant as to the exact color, pattern, and style of its protective sleeve. Nonetheless, there may be some room for improvement.

Although P’s decision to use a very dull but professional looking envelope that’s black in color, matte in texture, and comes adorned with only one tiny little graphic design in the bottom corner would appeal to some agents, there are plenty of other agents among us whose reaction to product launch will likely be “oh this is so exciting!!! Can I be the one to open the envelope!…wait what?…there’s nothing inside?…this is it?…yawn…can I go home now?” For this particular population, for those who prefer sportier and flashier choices when it comes to picking out their accessories, my suggestion would be that the Agency develop a new lineup of protective sleeves with a series of bolder colors and patterns. After all, harmonic frequencies are not something to be tampered with.

In closing, I believe the Agency is well positioned to require operatives to use this latest model for all missions abroad. Without such measures, I’d be afraid that even the most doting of field agents would eventually tire of the tender loving care they’d extend to their passports as they started to show some age. This exiting new product is bound to stave off such foreseeable tragedies and may even encourage the most nostalgic agents out there to keep their old passports as treasured keepsakes.

Index Scores

MASS:        9 - WHERE'S THE BEEF?!
VOLUME:      8 - GOOD THINGS COME IN SMALL PACKAGES
UTILITY:     8 - PRETTY SLICK, HUH?
EFFICIENCY:  7 - YEAH, THAT'LL WORK
OVERALL:     8 - NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT

*****

“Dangnabbit! Now that there’s sumptin’ I’s gotsta git my hands on!” rasps the scraggly old rambling gold miner spraying food flecks through a missing front tooth as he listens to his more literate but scratchier sidekick reading beneath the sickly yellow haze of an old buggy lantern while he scrapes out the last remaining bits and scraps from the bottom of a days-old rotting kipper snacks tin found in the duff out behind his ratty canvas tent, now more brown than tan, tucked just a short shuffle away from the raging river that once promised so much but now provides so little…

I can hear your heavy sigh from here, K…Please polish up for professionalism and return. Could you please shoot me a text on WhatsApp when you’re done? I’ll take it from there. Should be great cell service and WIFI coverage pretty much everywhere.

P.S. With all those precious minutes wasted down in the Design Lab, I’m so thankful that airport security was such a breeze this time and that my flight was delayed by as much as it was. That airplane door just about hit me in the butt…

See you on the other side.

J

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

Hi K. Just spent a few days wandering through the Tuolumne Meadows backcountry. As you’ve heard me say so many times before, it’s one of my favorite spots on Earth. There’s perhaps no better and easier place in California to access so much of the incredible terrain of the High Sierra.

BTW, you’ll be glad to hear that the Whoa Nellie Deli is alive and well. I’m hanging out on their patio right now on this nice warm Saturday afternoon in early August with drink in hand soaking up the buzz from all these people around me who seem so happy just to have found this cool corner of the planet.

Why am I here? Besides the obvious, K, I needed to pick up a roll of duct tape. So I was thinking to myself between sips, “what better place to write up a Purchase Order for that roll of duct tape I just bought?” So here she is. Please let me know if you need anything more to get this rolling along (ha ha).

P.S. I know I’ll get loads of crap from Agents O & P on this one. There’s already a huge supply of duct tape in the Vault. I can hear their ridicule already. “Why wasn’t it already in your Go Bag?! Especially for such a seasoned field agent!” Yeah, that means “old.” If this crowd here would just drop silent for a minute, I think I’d be able to hear all that razzing from even way down here. So it goes.

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35768-2025F
DCN:      7390181
TDY:      YOSEMITE NP, CALIFORNIA
DATE:     2025-08-09
TIME:     12:47 PM (PDT) 
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       N/A
SUBJECT:  PURCHASE ORDER 125 - DUCT TAPE

Purchase

EQUIPMENT NO: MUL-TPE-0228
DESCRIPTION:  DUCT TAPE
STYLE:        HEAVY DUTY, WATERPROOF
SIZE:         1.88 IN X 30 YD
MATERIAL:     FABRIC REINFORCED POLYETHYLENE
COLOR:        SILVER
PRICE:        BEST AVAILABLE
QUANTITY:     ONE ROLL
MANUFACTURER: 3M
VENDOR:       BUY LOCAL
DATE NEEDED:  ASAP

Reason(s) for Ordering

One of the most useful items that adventurers may keep in their toolboxes is a robust supply of duct tape. Useful on a variety of fronts, it’s one of the best ways to keep the good times rolling when the world around you goes from bad to worse. Beyond obvious predictable uses like patching holes, mending fabrics, and attaching deely bobs to dooly dads, there will be a whole host of other unexpected but super useful field applications that would be difficult to predict ahead of time.

With an untold number of things that can and do go wrong while out exploring the wilds, keeping an adequate inventory of duct tape at one’s fingertips has never been more important. While typically it’d be no challenge to find a good parking spot for a roll of duct tape back at home, this is hardly the case for the ultralight minimalist backpacker who’s out on the road with a light pack.

The challenge for this particular population is that a roll of duct tape is heavy. It’s also bulky in size and awkward in shape. The internal cardboard hoop, which comes standard with every purchase, serves a couple of important purposes in most domestic, commercial, and industrial settings. First, it maintains the shape of a perfect circle - important to keep all that feng shui out there intact. The rounded shape also allows for fast and easy dispensing in even the worst of conditions. Second, the hoop provides a handy pocket for your hands and fingers to assist in storing, carrying and, most importantly, tossing the tape up and down to pass idle time.

While this salient feature may be useful for more mundane practical applications, it’s annoyingly inconvenient for adventurers who like to travel small and light and don’t want to be bothered by a stupid monstrous hoop yet would still like to leave the house fully prepared for the unexpected.

Uses for the tape run the full gamut at home, ranging from installing and repairing HVAC ductwork (believe it or not), labeling plastic storage bins surely never to be seen again, patching invaluable keepsakes that your rugrats have poked holes in, and as door stops when it’s faster and easier to grab a roll because it’s the closest thing in reach.

Among many of the other reasons why it’s so important to have the adhesive close at hand in the home setting, one of the most critical ones is that you can easily resupply all those satellite stashes that you keep on your adventuring equipment. Topping off these remote supplies when destaging from a trip that’s just ended makes embarking on upcoming future outings that much faster and easier. Your “Go Bag” will always be at the ready…just grab it and go.

For those of you out there that may be still wondering why something as dull as a roll of duct tape would be so useful in the field, beyond the obvious use cases stated above, there are almost too many to list. Many are simply unpredictable. Because potential uses will be custom tailored to the specific clothing, equipment, and gear that one takes on any given trip, it would be folly for me to attempt to outline all the possible reasons why you may want to consider carrying a supply of tape as you head out the door.

However, by way of example, it may be instructive to list out some of the past instances in which this particular traveler has found duct tape to be useful:

• Blister prevention (yes! better than moleskin!)

• Miscellaneous boot, shoe, and sandal repairs

• Emergency repair of failed ski bindings deep in the backcountry

• Temporary assist to worn out climbing skins on their last legs

• Modifying orthotics to alleviate pain points

• Strapping food to undersized packs for self-supported endurance events

• Makeshift hand and finger wraps while out climbing with the wrong supplies

• Desperate seam and cuff tapings of leaky rain gear in heavy downpours

• Patching torn pages of books and field journals

• Fashioning emergency clothes in the wilderness (hats, pants, ponchos)

• Marking suspect climbing equipment after having been dropped

• Temporary field repairs of leaking kayaks

• Securing broken car parts on long road trips out in the middle of nowhere

• Patching countless rips and holes in a variety of situations and settings (backpacks, tents, clothes, mesh, etc.)

As you scan the list above and think to yourself that few to none of these would apply to you and that perhaps buying a roll of tape would be an unnecessary added expense to an already microscopically small budget, it’s important to note that your list of potential use cases would likely look very different than mine. Should you not want to spend the time doing mental gymnastics to figure out whether or not to buy a roll, just trust me. With time, you’ll eventually find great uses for it and will be so glad that you brought it along.

Of course, carrying around a big roll of duct tape everywhere you go is hardly one of the tenets of ultralight minimalism. What’s called for is a small convenient stash to keep somewhere on you during your daily travels. A principal criterion for location would be a place that allows you to easily access and accurately dispense a small amount of tape that’s somehow retained all of its wonderful stickiness even after great lengths of time and exposure to harsh elements and conditions.

Some of the best vehicles to serve such purpose are equipment items that are small and cylindrical in shape. Materials of construction are not all that important provided that the shape remains intact to best preserve the life of the tape. The idea is to take a piece of gear that you’re already taking with you on your adventure, carefully wind a few wraps of fresh duct tape around it, tear it off, smooth it out, and voila! You’ll have a portable mini stash right at your fingertips just about anyplace you’ll be. When the need calls, simply unwind the amount the situation calls for and hopefully your problem will be solved (at least until you find a bigger roll of duct tape).

It wasn’t very long ago that duct tape came in only one color, dull silvery gray, and at just one standard width. About the only degree of freedom one had was in the length they chose to purchase. As with many things, it was often most economical to buy the biggest roll available - almost too bulky and weighty to keep in one’s house let alone store in a tiny little backpack.

These days, duct tape is available in a wide variety of colors, patterns, widths and lengths, allowing the ultralight minimalist to add color, character, and pizzazz to their travels so as to keep all those smiles from turning to frowns when things go horribly wrong. Have at it. Take your pick. You do you.

My only advice when it comes to finding a good roll is to: (1) buy one from a name brand reputable manufacturer, (2) look for one that’s labeled “heavy duty” and reinforced with a mesh of small fibers, and (3) make sure that it’s waterproof and rated for outdoor use. These attributes will help ensure that your small supply of field tape is of high quality and has been properly designed to fully withstand unscheduled run ins with unruly backcountry ductwork as well as hold up to the many trials and tribulations of world exploration.

Index Scores

MASS:        9 - WHERE’S THE BEEF?!
VOLUME:      9 - HAS ANYONE SEEN MY…
UTILITY:     10 - COULDN'T LIVE WITHOUT IT
EFFICIENCY:  9 - HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?
OVERALL:     9 - HOT DIGGITY DOG

###

Phew. You think that’s enough supporting documentation for ordering another roll, K? Please let me know if you think I should be adding anything else to help support the cause. Maybe if the Whoa Nellie Deli had other colors and patterns besides this old dull and boring standard universal silver model, it’d help grease the skids.

I can hear Tioga Pass calling my name just now so I’m going to wrap this up and head for the hills. If I’m bold enough, I’ll head up to that alpine lake I was telling you about for a quick swim. BTW, if Agent N gets back from his assignment before I do, please taunt him with this little tidbit. Tell him that you’d just heard from me and that I was down here working on my own “eleven lakes at eleven thousand feet” challenge, and that I was right behind him nipping at his heels ;) I bet you dollars to donuts he scurries off to pack his bag!

Cheers,

J

Redeemed. Finally got my sushi fix last night. A trip to Tokyo isn’t complete without at least one sushi binge whether it be from a tiny kitchen tucked away between wholesalers at an early morning fish market, a conveyor belt restaurant deep within touristy la la lands, or an understated little hole in the wall hiding amongst old dusty alleyways on the back side of town littered with ancient tattered bicycles propped up on creaky kickstands underneath rusting tin patch siding of long forgotten storefronts where rent’s dirt cheap but the sushi will still break your wallet and couldn’t be fresher than if you’d been leaning off the dock patiently waiting for some early morning fine fatty tuna to jump straight out of the bay and land flat onto the cute little plate you’d cued up with a glorious strip of rice perfection laden with a tiny but heavenly dollop of the world’s freshest wasabi and a generous clump of the most magnificent pickled ginger found on the planet. Yum.

Yesterday evening, I found myself in one of the major hubs of Tokyo precisely at the same moment when all the strange and exotic convenience store snack food I’d sampled a few hours earlier had instantly burned off and left me with a voracious appetite. There was no better plan than to abandon all plans and head to the nearest neighborhood sushi joint. Though only considered a mid-grade restaurant, its massive popularity all but guaranteed fresher fish with a higher turnover rate and a wide selection of offerings.

With a seemingly never-ending stream of succulent sushi floating past me on a magic carpet conveyor belt right before my hungry eyes and insatiable stomach, I was able to check most everything off the list. Though somewhat tempted, I opted to pass on the horse meat, again. Wilbur’s back side and his famous neck fat just never seemed to shoehorn in quite at the right place.

Stuffed to the gills, I headed up to pay. Sumimasen? Did you say 3,000 yen? Hai. Arigatou gozaimasu. “Only $19,” I thought to myself while mentally shaking my head. Hardly possible anymore in the consistently overpriced restaurants of Northern California.

Those rumors about Japan being so expensive have got to be from either people hailing from more affordable states or highfalutin folks who only patronize highbrow Michelin Star restaurants while traveling abroad. Nearly ready to pop after gorging myself on standard grade sushi in Tokyo that’d surely be ranked as high grade back in the States, I was refueled for the night ahead. Were there better sushi joints around town that I knew about? Yes, indeed. But right at that moment when hunger had struck hard, this middle of the road standard happened to magically appear at the right place and at the right time.

Over the years, I’d heard a lot of two cents dispensed about sushi in Japan. The best places to eat, how to find the freshest fish, and a lot of other good beta peppered in with things like “Best sushi you’ll ever have,” and “Go loaded with cash. We dropped a few hundred dollars but it was worth every penny,” or “Head down the alley, take your second left. It’ll be right there.”

On the first trip to Japan with my buddy, Lars, our expectations were a bit high, and we knew what that meant. Surely, we were setting ourselves up for a case of the heavy disappointments. Lucky we stumbled across the right place.

At the risk of setting you up poorly for your first sushi in Japan too, I’ve got to report that we also found ourselves ready to declare “best sushi we’ve ever had” once Lars and I had put down our chopsticks at one particular little forgotten sushi joint not shown on anyone’s social media feed. I’d never had raw fish disintegrate on my tongue that quickly with so much elegance. Nothing so simple had ever teased my palate that same way with such beautiful complexity. A sushi experience like never before.

My brain is a trap when it comes to great food. When I discover a golden nugget in the giant piles of detritus, I remember the place with crystal clear clarity. All the important details quickly cement up in my head. The neighborhood it’s in, the street it’s on, the closest subway station, nearby landmarks. All the pertinent info lands onto a mental map so that I can eventually make it back there someday.

But, despite finding such a glorious hideaway in an unexpected spot, would we do the unthinkable and advertise to everyone else exactly where this little gem sits in the megalopolis that is Tokyo? Of course not. Not only to keep our little find from becoming the next InstaChat FakeBook sensation with a line a mile long and a commensurate decrease in quality but also because, unbeknownst to us at the time, we’d been carefully listening.

Without even knowing it, we had started to absorb one of the most admirable elements of Japanese culture. In this case, the Zen concept of “ichi-go ichi-e”…

"ichi-go ichi-e" (一期一会), means "one life, one meeting," and underscores that each and every experience in life is a unique moment that can never be repeated, reminding us to value the fleeting nature of all things in life as they occur for they will never be seen again.

Alas, that wonderful sushi experience we had just had will never be repeated either by ourselves or by anyone else. At the time, we weren’t fully aware of all of the implications. We simply knew that we weren’t going to be posting anything about it.

It took a few years for the ichi-go ichi-e philosophy to sink in deeper, at least enough to meet it halfway. In weak moments, the ichi-go ichi-e philosophy would drop completely by the wayside and we’d share all the details with other world travelers. In the moment, we’d forget the futility of it all. We needed constant reminders to keep our heads in the game.

Years after Lars and I ate at that incredible sushi bar, I happened to find myself in the exact same neighborhood again. As hunger rolled in, I started looking for the best options. It suddenly occurred to me that I was just a few blocks away from that top-notch sushi spot we’d found. Little did I know my stomach was tricking my head again. “Lightning can strike twice, can’t it?” Clearly, ichi-go ichi-e had waned a bit. I found some visual clues and walked up and down a few alleyways until I saw a hole-in-the-wall in the distance that closely matched the details I’d plotted on my mental map.

Things were a bit more tattered than I remembered. Most of the shops, stores, and restaurants were showing their age and were worse for the wear. Fewer cutesy looking little flower boxes adorned the pavement out front than I’d remembered. As I strolled down the nearly abandoned alleyway, a store owner quickened the pace of their sidewalk sweeping perhaps hoping that the day would bring a customer or two.

Heading down the block, I could see that the tiny little place where we’d eaten more than five years prior was still there. A front door opened to the street corner. The big window overlooking the alleyway was still there. The size of the place seemed about right. Peering through the windows, the interior looked familiar - a tiny little strip of stools hugged up against a bar on the back wall. My taste buds were buzzing with excitement.

Naturally, as I scurried up to the menu posted in the window with an empty stomach on a full agenda, my mouth was watering even before I scanned the offerings. Sadly, crushing devastation came rushing in all too quickly. Even to this day, I can’t remember what the not-so-sexy and completely unappealing menu was saying about its fare but I can tell you it had absolutely nothing to do with sushi, rice, wasabi, ginger, or anything of the like for all sumptuous things had apparently swished on down the street long ago to the more fruitful spawning grounds of other neighborhoods, alleyways, and places unknown, out of sight, and out of reach.

Out with the sushi. In with the fried…um…no, thank you. I’ll take a pass.

Such are the fickle ways of life. There was no better lesson for me than this as to the true meaning of ichi-go ichi-e. One life, one sushi.

So, now, when I find a relatively unknown awesome spot in a back corner of the world, I often have to remind myself of a lesson long forgotten. This won’t happen again. Not for me, you, or anyone else.

Confidentiality Note & Disclaimer: This former top secret file of the Travel Superlight Agency is now unclassified. However, the Agency takes no responsibility for any harm that results from the release of this information, and denies that the work of Agent J, or that of any other field agent it employs in its mission to perfect the art of ultralight minimalist traveling, will actually help anyone at all.

Hi K. Greetings from Seoul. Yes, I’m still alive. Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been diving in super deep on this assignment. Just can’t get enough. Please relay to Agents R and W that Seoul was a great choice…Here’s another Tech Memo to throw in the hopper.

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35753-2025C
DCN:      7389994
TDY:      SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
DATE:     2025-05-05
TIME:     7:21 AM KST
TO:       ALL FIELD AGENTS
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS R,W,K 
SUBJECT:  TECHNIQUE MEMO 213 - COUNTING WITH RINGS

Relevant Class

SEMINAR:     FOREIGN PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION NETWORKS
INSTRUCTOR:  AGENT W
CLASS:       ON-BOARD NAVIGATION SYSTEMS
CLASS NO:    AWT-155

Challenges

Riding trains, subways, and buses in a large metropolitan world city is often confusing. Factors such as difficult-to-decipher written and spoken foreign languages, a lack of offered translations, muffled overhead announcements, translation tools not at the ready, and navigation systems on phones either not working well due to a lack of good coverage or being temporarily disabled while traveling in airplane mode can all contribute to difficult travels.

Driven by an obvious desire to get off at the right stop without first needing to take crash courses in a new foreign language, one is compelled to come up with a system that allows for successful navigation through a spider web of transit systems without first needing to comprehend local dialects in either written or spoken forms.

The problem is compounded by a train or bus carriage that’s overstuffed with passengers who may be sitting, standing, or otherwise crouched up in the back corner blocking access to any semi-useful maps or signs posted on the walls. Furthermore, whether traveling by train, bus, light rail, or another form of public transportation, navigating through a congested and tortuously narrow maze of people to find the exit all before the clock ticks down and the dreaded door closing jingle begins is stress inducing to say the least.

Other on-board distractions and movements can make it difficult to keep track of where you are in time and space while on the move. With the added curveballs of vehicles swaying back and forth, sudden accelerations and braking seemingly at whim, captivating scenery frantically whizzing by, fascinating people watching all around you, blingy advertisements constantly catching the eye, an all too easily accessed distraction device (otherwise known as a phone) in your hands begging you to play a few games or catch up on the endless kerfuffle of your social media feed, and a string of regularly scheduled free little concertos of tunes, tones, and background jingles accompanied by unintelligible vocals that even the most careful listeners would struggle to understand, it should come as no surprise that becoming completely disoriented is all too easy as you try to make your way to your intended destination.

The basic problem becomes losing track of which one of the next stops is yours. If the direct cause is not one of the myriad of reasons described above, it’s likely due to a healthy mix of ignorance, confusion, unfamiliarity, jet lag, and sometimes even just plain forgetfulness. Regardless, the net effect is the same: losing one’s bearings and getting completely turned around, both literally and figuratively. For some, this provides the added flair and excitement of another wonderful adventure. But for many, it adds unwanted anxiety and confusion to an already stressful trip.

What this all begs is an effective technique that allows one to be smarter about traveling in such situations.

Observations

Now that almost all of us carry smartphones everywhere, navigation often seems simple when starting out the day. With the detailed schedules of so many foreign public transportation systems now accessible through the internet, navigation tools are making it fairly simple to piece together a route, sometimes over multiple modes of transportation, to most efficiently and inexpensively reach your destination. More advanced systems offer real time information as to the current location of your ride with constantly updated expected arrival times.

Phone navigation apps that are capable of displaying public transportation options are especially useful when traveling abroad. When enabled, these apps will often show helpful information on route numbers, departure and arrival times, transfer points, number of stops remaining, and which of the many station exits will bring you closest to your destination.

One of the best travel hacks to conserve battery life is to keep one’s phone in airplane mode while in transit. It’s not just for airplanes anymore. To completely disconnect from society, it works just as effectively on terrestrial transit systems no matter whether one is traveling by train, bus, subway, horse carriage, or foot scooter. A major drain on your cell phone battery is its persistent search for nearby WIFI networks, GPS coordinates, and cell towers as it constantly tries to figure out where it is in time and space at any given moment. It’s no wonder that you too are draining your own mental battery as you try to find your way through a complicated foreign transit system.

However, briefly enabling your phone to open a navigation app while in transit allows you to take a screenshot of the route including specifics like route IDs, stop names, and a running tally of the number of stops to a destination before closing the app and turning on airplane mode again for the remainder of your time in transit. Subsequent use of the phone to refresh your memory with the screenshot picture you just took and review route specifics will consume very little of your phone’s battery.

With the sometimes insurmountable challenge of not recognizing the names of stops either by sight or sound, a more practical technique for on-board navigation is to keep tabs on the number of remaining stops until one reaches their destination. It would behoove the savvy traveler, therefore, to come up with a system that would allow one to simply and accurately count the stops as they come without being so distracted as to miss the wonderful blurry stream of stimulus offered by so many of the world’s public transportation systems.

Solutions

The best solutions for the many challenges faced by ultralight minimalist travelers often come in the form of repurposing something they’re already carrying. It just so happens that one of the best tools that can be used to successfully navigate around foreign transit systems may already be at one’s fingertips.

Lo and behold, the finger ring. All it takes is a simple ring to keep track of where one is within a transit system. Many travelers already own at least one ring that could be readily put to use. What better tool might there be than something that’s been right there in front of them the whole time?

Using a ring to help count the stops is an easy way to avoid having to otherwise learn unwieldy names of train stations and bus stops that may be difficult to read, pronounce, or otherwise understand. Wearing at least one relatively loose fitting ring can be very helpful in this regard.

As one moves from station-to-station along a transit system, a ring may be easily marched along the fingers of one’s hands to provide a convenient way of keeping track of the number of stops without needing to know their actual names. At each stop along the route, one simply moves the ring down to the next finger in line. Of course, this requires the traveler to know ahead of time the total number of stations to the desired destination, but this can be done before boarding when one has more time to study such things.

Simply put, when the ring moves to the designated finger that corresponds with the stop number you’re looking for, then you’ll know it’s time to get off. The method’s a great way to avoid the mental burden of trying to keep count in your head, allowing you to better soak up your surroundings as you zip through the stunning kaleidoscope of an unfamiliar foreign city.

Having now tried this approach on several foreign transportation systems, there have been some lessons learned that I’d like to share.

First, adopting a consistent pattern in ring placement on one’s fingers is important for accurate accounting on the fly. The finger and hand one starts with should always be the same. And the direction that the ring travels as it hops from finger-to-finger should also be the same. In this way, one can avoid the confusion as to which finger represents which stop.

Second, I’d recommend switching the position of the ring at a consistent marker in the system to avoid second guessing whether one’s already moved it. For example, one might choose to move the ring every time a certain jingle starts to play as a train approaches a station. Or perhaps, every time that a bus opens its doors at a new stop. Another method which gives one just enough time to get ready to exit, is to move the ring onto a new finger as soon as one sees a new station come into view. The important thing is to pick only one method and don’t change it midstream.

Finally, wearing a loose fitting ring is important, one sized to fit at least partly on each of the fingers of your hands, including your thumbs.

Because most people come equipped with only ten fingers, a second ring is sometimes helpful to count an even greater number of waypoints (e.g., 30, 40, 50 stops). The second ring, placed deeper on the finger than the first, is used to count the stops by tens. Using these two rings together allows one to count practically any number of conceivable waypoints. A mini abacus always at the ready!

So, yes, go out and buy those souvenir rings you’ve been eyeballing. They’ll not only give you great pleasure to wear and look at every day, but just maybe they’ll be useful tools as you travel through this awesome big wide world of ours.

###

K - please do your regular magic on the above and let me know if you have any questions. This one can wait until I’m back at HQ in case you’re backlogged.

Hopefully, no one out there takes this too seriously. I developed this as a favor to Agent W for his AWT-155 class. He was starting to panic that he didn’t have enough on his syllabus. We both know that getting turned around is often part of the fun but, of course, you’d never say that in an official Technique Memo release for a class on navigation. Shhhhhh…

BTW, I’ve got some ideas brewing on ultralight ring designs for Agent P, but I need someone with style to look it all over. Got time when I get back? Don’t worry, I’ll brace myself for all the harsh criticism you’re sure to dispense. In the end, we’ll both know that we each had our hands and fingers in Agent P’s cutting-edge work (insert one of your infamous eye rolls right about here).

See you at Mission Debrief in a few weeks. Just look for the only field agent fiddling with his finger rings. That’ll be me.

감사합니다

gam-sa-ham-ni-da

J

Arriving late into town, well into midday, our internet connectivity had finally been restored. Finding a small quiet cafe on the close edge of town with a rooftop view of the small city across the canyon, Rocky and I rejoiced at the sign proclaiming free WIFI. Time to stash the giant fold out road map we had bought in Fes in the glovebox. Just like old school days, we had successfully made our way to Chefchaouen through the Rif Mountains of Morocco without any of the modern navigation tools - this time it was only paper and our heads.

The most immediate and larger problems had already been solved. Like just how to screw our heads back on straight. Clearly they had not been. On our way here, we had somehow steered ourselves into a massive misadventure along the wrong route that brings back both feelings of wonder and excitement coupled with horror and dread when we think back on it. What we thought was going to be a short three hour drive turned into a two day adventure. But that story, rightly deserves its own separate post. Suffice it to say, we were most definitely ready to get back on track.

After inadvertently taking the much longer “back route” to Chaouen (as we were later taught to call it by locals), we were starving. I can now tell you that a big bag of peanuts desperately bought at a lonely road side food stand can only satiate the appetite by a mere few hours. A late tangine lunch sounded all too heavenly at that point in our travels, and with the web suddenly at our fingertips, it seemed we had arrived at nirvana.

Unfortunately, even in nirvana, the laws of bookings still apply. Rolling late into this popular town that shows up on most Moroccan travel circuits, most of the hotel rooms had already been snapped up and there were slim pickings for tourists like us who preferred to travel on the fly. By the time we logged on and scanned the booking apps for availability, it was clear that we’d need to be a little creative.

The pecking order for finding the best spots to bed down for the night seemed to be alive and well in this remote corner of the world. First, you had all the travelers who had found all the pictures and reviews simply too tantalizing to resist. The majority of these folks had booked well ahead of time into these highly rated accommodations. The cream of the crop of this bunch may had even booked their places as far as six months to a year in advance of their vacations.

Next, you had the travelers who had booked anywhere from a week to a couple months out. While the luxury suites may not have been still available, these tourists would typically be able to snap up remaining rooms featuring some of the most enticing ensuite bonuses such as balconies with wide sweeping views, large ornate poster beds that reminded them that they were in Morocco, and other free perks like a welcome drink down at reception and free breakfast in a stunning central courtyard.

Then, you had guests who had just come off an absolutely horrible night’s sleep in a scrappy place down the road and who were now looking for an upgrade. With a scant few hours of sleep, there were a lucky few who were able to snap up a great deal first thing in the morning.

Next, strolling up to the counter mid-morning would be the backpackers who’d just arrived in town, had scanned what was out there, made their best picks, and booked up any of the more sensible remaining rooms. If they were lucky, they might have been able to capitalize on some last minute cancellations of luxury suites which were now on fire sales.

And, then, finally you had Rocky and me. The late afternoon minimalist ultralight travelers who saw it too much of a weighty burden to travel with reservations and who, in this particular instance, straggled into town way too late to have hope of any decent pickings. With the sun sinking down closer to the horizon line, backpackers like us, who had veered way off course and ended up at our destination with little time to spare, were happy to accept any remaining scraps that were left.

Scanning our choices over a dish definitely not containing peanuts, it would seem that we only had two picks left before us. One was a giant penthouse suite occupying the top floor of a hotel in the center of town. Clearly, this was a last minute cancellation that had just opened up. The second option was a room with a couple of double beds in a one star hotel with terrible reviews on the far edge of town that looked like it had lived a hard and challenging life, which could be ours for all but a fraction of the price of the first.

Having just weathered a super spooky sleepless night that we weren’t absolutely sure that we were going to make it through alive, Rocky and I could withstand a little luxury. Off to the uppity hotel we went. Thankfully, we had asked to see the room first. A super strange layout, coupled with a difficult bed situation in a hot and stuffy room, quickly burst our bubbles. The price was pretty spendy too, at least on Moroccan standards, even after splitting in half. Quickly dispensing with this option, we marched off to the far corner of town to take a peek behind Door No. 2.

As we ambled up to reception, we could hear people arguing at the front of the line. Something about a booking which was clearly not as advertised. This didn’t have that, and that didn’t look like this. After much back and forth, there didn’t seem to be much resolution as far as we could tell through the thick language barriers on all sides.

The countenance of the stony-faced host hardened a bit more. Words became fewer and colder. The unhappy guests grunted something loudly, swooped the keys off the desk, and stormed off with bluster towards the outdoor stairway leading up to the rooms…apparently, the customer wasn’t always right. Maybe we had just stumbled into one of those mystery vortexes where conventional laws like common courtesy don’t apply and where things get a bit out of whack and distorted.

The reviews on Google were horrible. I’m not actually sure that I’d ever actually seen ratings that low. No wonder this place had the only vacant rooms left in town. Comments spanned the full range of possible gripes from complaints about the rooms, beds, bathrooms, water pressure, cleanliness, creepy crawlies, the general condition of the overall facilities, and staff (no surprise). Thankfully, there were no comments about bed bugs, for that would surely have set us skittering off down the road back to Door No. 1. That awkward palatial suite was looking better by the minute. It was just that the price of the diamond in the rough laying before us was really hard to beat and we were there, next in line, soon to be served by a wonderful customer service representative who could turn it all around for us.

Bracing ourselves for a lashing, we asked if we could see the room before plunking down our cash. Without so many words, and thinking back on it perhaps no words at all, a set of keys were dropped on top of the counter. There’s better than a good chance that they had been gently placed before us, but in my mind’s eye, they were quite definitely slapped down in frustration.

Winding up the stairway to the fourth floor, we caught glimpses of other guests coming and going. Definitely the scrappy backpacker type. Hmmm…I guess we were too, just a little bit older than average. At least we blended in. But seeing this didn’t do wonders in raising our expectations of the room. Unlocking a loose and janky deadbolt, we pushed the door open half expecting to be trampled by a motley gang of cockroaches, spiders, and fleas. Thankfully, the coast was clear and we could flip the lights on with no other fear than a mild shock from a crappy electrical circuit.

Much to our surprise, we found ourselves in a two bedroom suite. Things actually looked pretty good. Mattresses passed the checks with two thumbs up. Everything seemed tidy and clean. Solid toilet with a good strong flush. Hot water in the shower with decent pressure. Check, check, check.

We even tallied up some bonus points. Two fairly spacious bedrooms each furnished with their own dresser and window with a view, well lit, minimal street noise, and well positioned on the top floor at the end of a hall with no shared walls with any of the other guests on our floor. Best of all, it was super cheap! How was it possible that we’d be getting all of this for only that?! Did I forgot to mention the rooftop deck with an incredible view of the entire town with some tempting looking loungers and couches only a few steps away?

Would you believe it if I told you we had a great stay? Didn’t think so. We honestly did. But otherwise don’t believe everything you see, hear, or even think. Some things just seem to work out well despite what seems like would be doomed for failure. When it comes to bookings, the biggest takeaway for me in this whole experience was that while some bad reviews are truly legitimate, they should be read with heavy skepticism and should not be used as the sole bellwether factor in making decisions. We had a wonderful time in our little abode and I walked away with a great lesson.

Since that trip, I’ve stayed in several low rated campgrounds, hostels, motels, and hotels. No longer convinced of a strong correlation between poor ratings, lower than expected rates, and my level of satisfaction, I often seek out an underdog right from the get-go. The big guys, the ones that get all those good reviews and have commensurately sky high expensive rates, get most of the business without even having to lift a pinky, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces. What I’ve found is that so many of these lower scoring spots have to work so much harder to earn your satisfaction. And it often shows.

Just now, as I’m writing this, I’m coming off my fifth night at the lowest rated campground in Death Valley. Significantly less expensive than all of the higher rated ones in the park, it comes with far fewer stars in reviews. Yet, having stayed a couple of nights at the most expensive, highest rated campground up the road, a couple of nights at the next most popular choice just down the road, and a night at another hot spot up the highway a few clicks, I’ve found this bottom-of-the-barrel campground to be my favorite. With far less use than the others, the bathrooms are much cleaner, it’s conveniently located to some great amenities, and it’s way quieter than one would expect on quick glance from the highway. I’ve got some elbow room here. My closest neighbor is 75 feet away from me instead of perhaps only 15 to 20 feet at the others. At a fraction of the price, it’s easier on the pocketbook too. Sure, it lacks a picnic table, but as a ultralight minimalist camper, I don’t miss it.

Despite having now spouted all this praise and glory on budget accommodations, I’m not sure whether or not I could actually recommend that you give them a shot. For full disclosure, I’m often repulsed at wealthy pretentiousness and this biases my opinions. As the scales tip towards the stuffy, exclusionary, or snooty this and snotty that, I tend to turn back and head the other direction.

If this resonates with you at all, even just slightly, then perhaps try giving a lower ranked place a standing chance. It may be way better than what you could have ever expected. Maybe start with something simple. Ask yourself what’s truly important to you in a booking with a keen eye out for not confusing “needs” with “wants.” Please, do mind some basic limits though. Safety first.

And, for goodness sake, if you see any evidence or comments about bed bugs, run away the other direction. Fast.

Happy hunting. Keep it real.

Okay, K. Yes, I agree. That blind corner’s horrible. Hope I didn’t stain your flats. I can’t believe how quickly you move on your feet, and I mean that in more ways than one. While the rest of us might’ve had just enough time to conjure up a dry and bland “Slow it down, Agent J,” for agents like you, a half a second is an eternity for coming up with some new whiz bang vocabulary for immediate deployment. I’ll be sure to check in with the folks over at Urban Dictionary as soon as we land to see if they’ve already registered “flitting flamboozled flustercuck” in their logs.

I guess what I’m finally getting around to saying is “I’m sorry.” If I’m lucky, maybe that’ll help shave off a few months from the grieving period. You think? Yeah, I know. But it didn’t hurt to ask.

Anyway, since I obviously had no time to finish telling you that story about Agent M back at Headquarters, I thought I’d take the time on this long flight to jot it all down for you. I at least owe you that. And ten hours was perfect to get all the details right. Not sure how I’ll ultimately end up using this material, but I thought I’d go the extra mile in conveying the story I owed you to partially pay down my debt. Huh? What’s that? Yes, absolutely. I can also help with that Zappos charge if the OxiClean doesn’t work out.

As you’re reading this, and before you can sink more barbs in, yes I know what you’re going to say. Clearly the story needs some work if I want to submit it as formal Tech Memo. I’ve written it with the idea that I’d ultimately submit it to other field agents down the road, so please don’t put any work into it just yet. I’ll do all the major lifting when the time comes…

Ironically, it’s the very thing I learned from Agent M on our joint mission to Japan that led me to be in such a hurry getting out the door yesterday. You know how it used to take me weeks to get ready for a mission? I can now pack up with less than a day’s notice should the need arise. Less time mobilizing means more time for fun! You know, for things like sprinting down the hallways at Headquarters just a few minutes before I’ve gotta leave…yikes. Eye roll. OK. I get it. I’ll slow down.

In the meantime, here she is. Got your matcha in hand?

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35517-2024B (G26292-2024A)
DCN:      7251927
TDY:      LISBON, PORTUGAL
DATE:     2024-03-16
TIME:     12:17 PM (GMT+1)
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS G,M 
SUBJECT:  POSTCARD 259 - LINING IT UP AGAINST THE WALL

Message

Agent M had done all the research. First train leaving Nikko was scheduled to depart at a brutal six o’clock sharp, just before the crack of dawn at that time of year. Adding in a longer than ideal layover for transferring to a bullet train, we’d end up with only a few spare hours back in Tokyo. That’d leave us just enough time to scramble around to all the necessary waypoints to properly close out the mission before wrapping it up and heading out to Haneda to catch our flight back to Headquarters.

With a long walk out ahead of us to the regional train station, we figured we should leave the field office around 5 a.m., no later. We were both early risers, but while backing up the clock into the 4 o’clock hour sounded semi-palatable back at dinner time, seeing that the clock had just chimed ten, our cards were still on the table, and we’d barely put a dent in our last round of Asahis, we knew that no matter how we cut it that it’d be a super short night. Good thing we had a long flight ahead of us to sleep it all off.

While Agent M was studying his hand, I was too busy thinking about when to set the alarm on my phone. Thirty minutes would be about right if I skipped some of the less than essential morning routines. Wrapping up our marathon three hour game, I grumbled something to M about setting my alarm for 4:30 a.m. and that it felt like I was getting up to go snowblow back home before heading into work. Agent M looked at me incredulously and asked with a small grin “why so early? I’m setting mine for 4:50.”

What?! Only 10 minutes before needing to leave? Yes, I knew M was a fully commissioned minimalist ultralight field agent, but just how was it possible that he could shave that much time off his morning routine? But then I realized that I was traveling with an agent who routinely got up at an even earlier 3 o’clock hour back home to head into Headquarters. With that kind of schedule, naturally he’d be an expert at rolling out of bed, falling into shoes laying by his side, slipping into his clothes on the way to the bathroom, and donning his pack as he washed up. Was Agent M moonlighting with Wallace and Gromit?

But that was at home. What about packing up all his scattershot stuff over here in the field? What were his secrets? Yes, I knew well that field agents were always on the learning curve, but there I found myself across the table from M sitting stunned under a spell of curiosity and skepticism. Just how was he able to mobilize so quickly? Could there perhaps be a better, easier, and faster way to get out the door? Heading back to the field office as the night wore thin, he asked if I wanted to see how he did it.

I can’t say I was too surprised with what I saw. After all, Agent M has always loved self-induced challenges. For example, both at home and at work, he would take it upon himself to see if he could pack things up even smaller than how he originally found them. No matter whether something came in an impossibly small container that the rest of us would have no hope of ever stuffing something back into after it was first opened, M would seemingly always find a way to package it up even smaller.

M also liked to push the limits way beyond where most other typical agents stop. For one particular training mission deep in the Pacific, Agent M took less than 3 pounds of stuff for a weeklong field assignment. King of optimization? Perhaps.

As his next door neighbor at the Nikko field station, Agent M’s digs were really just a mirror image of mine. However, nobody would’ve ever have mistaken my room for his on inspection. My place was littered with stuff strewn haphazardly all over the place. You see, when Agent J travels, entropy quickly gets to work after arrival. Items fly out of his bag and land in various random corners of the room. Try as he may to keep things organized in little piles and clusters, after a couple of days, his room ends up looking like a modern art project with little amorphous blobs covering up most of the available space.

In bleak contrast, M’s room was a study in Zen. Everything was neat, organized, and simple. The room was shockingly sparse. It almost had a museum-like quality. Did I need a ticket to enter?

Glancing around, I couldn’t see his stuff. Had he tossed it all out the window and finally accomplished what most field agents only dream about? Ditching everything except the credit cards and passports? Ah ha! So was that it? Was that why it only took him 10 minutes to get ready?

But no, as I strolled further into the exhibit, he lead me to the far wall behind the futon lying on the floor. There it was. Perched on the edge of the tatami mat all lined against the wall. Agent M showed off his work of art while eagerly waiting for my eyes to light up and my brain to engage with a slow click-click.

The dialog running through my head that night went something like this. “Yeah, I get it M. Everything’s rolled up. I do that too. It’s one of the time honored tricks for saving space in our packs. Much better than folding or just bunching it up and throwing it in.” But I was still confused. M stepped in to help me along in the thought process.

“Look closely at the lineup. See the order?” Yes, I get that too, M. Everything’s against the wall. Kudos to you. Was this some kind of backhanded comment at how messy my room was? Yes, I know that, Agent M. You don’t have to rub it in. That’s how I roll, you jerk. You stay organized. I scatter. Good thing we’re not sharing a room.

“It’s all lined up in the exact order in which I put the things in my bag.” Oh…wow…holy crap. I’d never thought about that one. Makes total sense.

As we had learned back at the Academy, developing 10/20 vision (less than 10 pounds in a 20 liter backpack) takes careful planning. Studying the work of past field agents, we quickly learned the secrets to their successes. In training, we heard that past missions were often compromised by three simple simple errors: (1) bringing too much stuff, (2) not giving proper consideration to weight and volume, and (3) packing inefficiently, thereby leaving no remaining pockets of unused space in one’s backpack. We also learned that, over time, field agents will typically arrive at a very specific configuration as to how they like their bags packed. In fact, they often arrive at an optimized order in which items are placed into their bags so that they may make their backpacks as densely and efficiently packed as possible.

What Agent M seemed to have perfected was streamlining the whole packing process in a way where things fell into place very quickly. Whereas I was going to be in the other room scampering about at 4 in the morning, spinning in small circles around my various piles of flotsam wondering where I had put my third left sock so that I could stuff it in next, M had it all pre-programmed. His things were already lined up against the back wall in the exact order in which they would go into his pack early the next morning. In a matter of only a few steps, all he had to do was march down the line, pick up the next item, and place it in the designated spot in his backpack. And that is precisely why Agent M only needed 10 minutes to transition from a deep sleep to being ready to head down to the train station.

That moment forever transformed how I tackle my assignments abroad. I still don’t keep things organized in my room during the course of my stay. However, when it comes to getting ready to hit the road, I now do “the Agent M lineup” as a matter of course. I can guarantee you that my row of things will never be quite as straight as M’s, but I take solace knowing that in its oblong form with its many curves and contortions, it’s equally as effective. As I start to organize things in preparation for transit, all the various things find their place in the lineup. And now that it’s become a well honed technique, if something’s missing or out of place, it’s immediately obvious upon quick inspection.

Just where did that third left sock wander off to?! Damn it.

###

Now maybe you can you see my side of it, K? I was in a hurried frenzy back at Headquarters for one simple reason. Optimization. It was all in the name of shaving off yet a few more precious seconds from the stopwatch. As you well know, time’s another scarce resource that us ultralight minimalists are trying to conserve. Just like that early morning in Nikko. OK. I’ll stop trying to justify it. Yeah, I know. It was all at the expense of your nice shoes and what’s left of common courtesy. Ugh. I think I hear pay back coming around the corner. I’ll need to carefully watch my steps when I get back to HQ…

Oh. There it is. The announcement, K. We’re about to land in Lisbon…Agent G’s been over here dozing off at my side with a few head tilts. Good thing she’s not just a random passenger. A little head bump from my wife on the left shoulder would be just fine by me.

First order of business on our field assignment will be to find some good, strong, bold, dark coffee. Yes! You know us! The kind you can cut with a knife.

More importantly, next on the agenda will be to take a good hard look at what she packed. How on earth was she able to trim everything down to weigh in at just over seven pounds? She’s got a whole pound and a half on me! Damn it! I’ve always known that she’s my better half, but really?! That even includes an extra pair of shoes and her flip flops too. Salt in the wound.

Next up will be to go out and find some just-in-time Pastel de Natas. What was the name of that place, K? Manteigaria? Something like that? Sorry, as you well know, those last ten minutes back at Headquarters went by in a blur. I think you said to get them with cinnamon sprinkles. But do tell. These are the important things, K. Forget mission objectives.

I’ll be in touch later with more updates as our assignment gets fully under way. Until then, hope things are quieter back there without all those flamboozled flustercucks flitting around.

P.S. After asking what I was writing just now, Agent G chimed in with a reminder in her half-awake state that her backpack had weighed in lighter for our Poland mission too. For that one, she beat me by more than two pounds. Leave it to your spouse to make you feel even lower. So much more to learn, K. So much more to learn…

J

Hi again, K. Got some time to kill now that I’ve finally made it to Central California Command. I think I owe you something. Yeah…um…sorry it’s a bit late. I thought it’d be a good use of my spare time chilling here at the lake to pull this together for you, especially since I’m back in WIFI range.

But first, I need to rave a bit. Gotta hand it to the CCC for so ingeniously hiding its operations center so that it’s able to remain so secretive in this modern day and age of social media. The lonely route from the north follows a small narrow road deep within the Sierra Nevada mountain range that winds its way through giant boulder fields and up and over unrelentingly steep alpine passes climbing road grades that are rumored to be the steepest in California. Of course, this was all part of the plan - place the CCC at a remote high altitude location where the sun is intense, the air is thin, and there’s nothing around for miles, so that it remains well hidden for generations to come.

On the route here, just beyond a nondescript general store in a tiny mountain village that barely made the map, lies the first series of obstacles - a succession of closed pipe gates bearing prominent “ROAD CLOSED” signs which bar further progress by the general public. Past these controlled access points, guarded by the California Highway Patrol, the way forward gets increasingly more treacherous.

Further up the road, a series of remote checkpoints monitor the progress of those making their way through the crucible. It’s at these temporary field stations where trained personnel check for valid travel credentials and stamp paperwork that marks an agent’s progress along the route. Staff are able to report positions of agents enroute via radio to Central Command. Any sign of distress or trouble may be immediately reported to EMS or law enforcement.

Even more deterrents are in place to discourage those up to no good. A seemingly endless series of signs, electronic boards, banners, and other universal traffic controls alert would-be infiltrators of upcoming difficulties and dangers. Perhaps the most effective deterrent is the various artwork scattered along the way prominently bearing images of skulls, skeletons, and huge hard-to-miss banners proclaiming that certain “Death” is just a few corners away on the long “Ride” up the road. This goes on for miles - 103 of them to be exact.

Anyone contemplating dodging these controls by hiking around them to get to the CCC is hardly better off. The Pacific Command Trail (PCT), a well worn backcountry trail that links up all of the Agency’s west coast command centers, eventually makes is way to the CCC but this path isn’t for the feint of heart either. A big round of applause goes out to all those CCC trail builders back in the day for ensuring that the PCT is dauntingly gnarly enough to discourage any but the hardiest travelers from making it through.

But getting back to business, K, I can now fill you in on exactly why I was hauling ass out of HQ on Thursday to go buy that new sheet of plywood. To answer your question most directly, yes, there’s already plenty of plywood in the Vault, but we needed an upgrade. Sorry. I know it’s a pain in the butt for you to process Purchase Orders after the fact, but I was running out of time.

My hope is that submitting this PO directly from the CCC helps grease the skids with Document Controls. If they give you any grief, just blame me. Make something up about how Agent J was strategically waiting until he got to the center’s ultra secure encrypted WIFI network to submit the paperwork. After all, without such careful measures, such seemingly innocent and mundane plywood purchases could raise much suspicion were these documents to fall into the wrong hands…

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35761-2025D
DCN:      7390143
TDY:      BEAR VALLEY, CALIFORNIA
DATE:     2025-07-13
TIME:     4:47 PM (PDT) 
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENT W
SUBJECT:  PURCHASE ORDER 119 - PLYWOOD

Purchase

DESCRIPTION:  PLYWOOD
STYLE:        GRADE A, 3/4 INCH
SIZE:         4' BY 8', CUT TO FIT
MATERIAL:     BIRCH
COLOR:        NATURAL
PRICE:        BEST AVAILABLE
QUANTITY:     ONE
MANUFACTURER: ANY
VENDOR:       BUY LOCAL
DATE NEEDED:  ASAP

Reason(s) for Ordering

A single sheet of plywood simply and easily converts many Agency vehicles into minimalist ultralight car camping rigs for domestic field assignments. While there are perhaps tens of thousands of different ways to camp out in the woods, minimalist ultralight campers will appreciate the simplicity of using a simple sheet of plywood bought at their local hardware store over the complexities and higher expenses of other alternatives like campers, trailers, RVs, and the like.

A thick sheet of plywood provides a nice balance between overall weight and basic function. While thinner sheets may be lighter and slightly easier to install inside a vehicle, the additional layers of a beefier slab provide for a stiffer sleeping surface when spanned over gaps, bumps, and any other unruly features of vehicle interiors while simultaneously providing a sturdy shelf for storing heavy items when in transit (e.g., water jugs, coolers, duffle bags, etc).

One of the best attributes of a sheet of plywood is its simplicity in design, consuming as little space as possible while maximizing storage opportunities both above and below. Without drawers or cabinets to add extra bulk, weight, and volume, a field agent is often able to place the plywood in the vehicle with minimal assistance from others (soliciting the help of a second field agent is highly recommended to save one’s back).

A set of leveling blocks (not included with purchase, sold separately) provides for a level sleeping surface. While most people would place such blocks underneath the wheels of their vehicle to level things out, it’s actually more effective, faster and easier to simply park one’s vehicle in the flattest spot possible and then subsequently place the leveling blocks directly underneath the plywood. The number and position of blocks may be adjusted to flatten out the sleeping platform. When parked at an angle, an uneven number of blocks may be placed at any one of the four corners to offset most lateral and transverse slopes. An added bonus is that, by placing these blocks inside the vehicle instead of under its tires, additional space is made available below deck to store gear.

The modular design of the leveling blocks enables agents to fashion funky layouts to store bulky equipment while in transit. For example, for strategic missions that require a bit of pedaling, blocks maximize above- and below-plywood storage space to allow transporting things like unwieldy mountain bikes inside vehicles, in addition to any other necessary camping gear, without the need for an “always-in-the-way” exterior bike rack (a constant annoyance of ultralight minimalists).

After unloading heavy gear on arrival at a destination field camp, a field agent may may add or remove leveling blocks as necessary to raise or lower the platform for sleeping.

Upon full deployment at camp, this simple sheet of plywood, propped up by blocks, enables field agents to build tiny little kitchens on their rear bumpers where they can cook, eat, and chill at just about any remote field camp out there.

Index Scores

MASS:        2 - LET'S HIRE THE MOVERS
VOLUME:      2 - OH NO! NOT THE BIG BACKPACK!
UTILITY:     9 - THAT'S AWESOME MAN!
EFFICIENCY:  9 - HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?
OVERALL:     8 - THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT

###

Gotta go, K. The lake is calling me. And I desperately need to clean up before I land on the doorstep of the CCC. I don’t think anyone would appreciate my specially formulated cologne of sunscreen, bug spray, sweat, bike lube, and trail dirt.

As always, please let me know if you have any questions.

In the meantime, stay cool, be safe, and see you later next week. Cheers,

J

Hi K - Thought yesterday’s journal entry might make a decent Standard Operating Procedure. Let me know what you think after you give it a read-through. One of my concerns is that the Agency-prescribed format for SOPs is a bit forced in this particular case so I took some liberties. Quite possible that with a little pulling, bending, and tweaking the fit will improve.

I’m hoping that this material may be useful to Agent W for his upcoming Budget Accommodations class up in Advanced World Training (AWT-202). When I took the class way back when, there wasn’t much on the syllabus regarding party hostels, but I guess that could’ve changed over the decades since. I think I’ll cc him on this since I know the new quarter’s about to begin.

BTW does the place I describe below remind you of anywhere? Maybe that hostel on that Amsterdam mission? :) Legendary!

J

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35418-2023E
DCN:      7030632
TDY:      SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA
DATE:     2023-11-05
TIME:     9:09 AM (GMT+7)
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENT W,R
SUBJECT:  STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE 121 - TOP TEN TIPS FOR PARTING WITH PARTY HOSTELS

Relevant Class

SEMINAR:     COMFORT IS A STATE OF MIND
INSTRUCTOR:  AGENT W
CLASS:       BUDGET ACCOMMODATIONS
CLASS NO:    AWT-202

Context

Online hints were typically enough to clue me in ahead of time, but I knew at some point during my travels through Southeast Asia that I’d have a sudden unplanned “opportunity” to stay at a so-called “party hostel.” More suited to those in their mid-20s than mid-50s, I’d been avoiding them like the plague. Known for their free flowing alcohol, loud music, lively pool scenes, stuffed social calendars, and young adults brimming with raging hormones, they also usually came equipped with giant dorm rooms to fit all of their drunken guests.

The alternative for ambiverts, who need some much needed peace and quiet to balance out the heavy stimulus of overseas travel, is the quieter and calmer “chill hostel.” It’s in places like these that I’m nearly guaranteed a good night’s sleep with the bonus of having access to a great common room to relax, read, write, draw, or just simply breathe, all mixed in with the kind of meaningful socializing that I like to do now that I’m older. When I’m ready to tap into extroverted reserves and reemerge into the chaotic world of travel, there’s no better way than to spend some quality time in the smooth transition zone of a chill hostel where a guy like me can meet some really cool people over breakfast and have wonderful conversations with smart enlightened travelers from all over the world.

While out on assignment, usually I make my picks carefully and wisely. Alas, in this particular instance, I had been swept up in the moment late the night before as I scanned my options for the next waypoint along the road early the next morning. Quite honestly, I was suckered-in by the low rate, and it cemented up quickly with a quick glance at its high rating on the booking app. I can now forgive myself for not having more time that night to delve a little deeper. Reading reviews and studying pictures in greater detail would’ve been helpful.

My first sight off the street as I entered this particular hostel in one of Cambodia’s biggest cities was the huge bar. Standing room only? Just what time was it?!

Blinded by a sober mix of pride and folly, I shouted two succinct words to sum up my most pressing questions. “Check in?” I yelled to the bartender at a decibel just barely loud enough to break through the mid-morning tunes blasting away somewhere behind a sea of drinks. All was for naught. I couldn’t make out the even shorter answer she hollered back as she turned away towards the other end of the bar.

After receiving an impatient, and dare I say hostile, quick return glance in my direction, scanning me up and down for a nanosecond trying to decipher whether I was now actually ready to order a drink instead of merely check in, she hastily threw up her momentarily free hand and pointed deeper inside the place just as her head pivoted back the other direction towards a wad of cash being thrust her way by an all too thirsty twenty-year-old squirt whose fourth drink of the morning had just run dry and who’d long forgotten not only just when he had checked in but also which country he was visiting and why he was even there to see it because who cared when the party’s just as good or maybe even better here than at the frat house back home cuz the drinks are stronger, the buzz is cheaper, and you’re surrounded by people like “all y’all” all day and all night long. Except for that one old scratchy dude over there. Don’t know what his deal is...Alright, clear enough.

As I weaved my way back through the all too happy guests sauntering up to the bar, I couldn’t help but notice that most of them were wearing far less than the local townsfolk walking the streets just a few steps away. Brushing by a few damp shoulders holding up flushed faces with dripping hair, it soon became obvious just what this was. No, they weren’t sweating like me on this already too-hot day. This was most definitely a poolside bar. And there was a lot of bare skin exposed. Ultralight minimalist indeed!

Despite the young hour, there was no vacancy at this particular oasis. Every lounger was claimed. Bikinis, board shorts and drinks were scattered everywhere. Passing by a few clearly blitzed dudes shooting pool on the far side of the deck and a few girls staring curiously at a dartboard in the corner trying to figure out where all the darts had gone, I had almost made it to the front desk. But no. First I had to navigate a sea of backpacks that had been hastily strewn in a haphazard mess spread out across the floor in front of it as the feeding frenzy took hold in full force to grab a free welcome drink, kick off the shoes, and take a plunge to wash off all that long-haul overnight sleeper bus jammy-juice that comes complimentary with an unbelievably low ticket price.

“Yes, hello! Can you hear me? I have a reservation.” Believe it or not, I’d like to actually check in before I start drinking. Yes, that’s right. Oh, I see. You need to talk to the manager to see if that’s even possible? To not start drinking yet? Oh, sorry, my mistake. To check in this early? Okay. Sounds good. Thank you. What’s that? OK. No problem. I won’t mind if you take a few seconds to refill your glass on the way back to the front desk. You look thirsty. Not to worry.

Dishing through my coin pouch to see if I had enough to cover a costly key deposit, the kid gave me the low-down: front desk is staffed all night long, WIFI password is “beer,” and the little ticket is for a spin at the wheel for my chance to score a free drink. Canned smile. Hmmmmm…no wonder the bar was so crowded. Free drink or not, my guess was that they came pretty cheap anyway.

If I had been paying closer attention, I would have noticed more clues written on the walls. No Sex in the Dorm Rooms. Return all Glassware to the Bar. See Front Desk for Darts. Just as telling were things not posted. Not a single “No Smoking” sign was in sight. Were there any quiet hours? Apparently not. Other hints came in the way of flyers advertising their many “social” offerings: bar hopping tours, pool parties, beer pong tournaments, late night food tours. Did they have morning tours? Silly me. Just how many of their valued guests would actually sign up for those?! That’d be stupid.

Finally, I stumbled upon the biggest clue of all. A flyer advertising that this very hostel was the newest and biggest the city had to offer the discriminating backpacker who was looking for the best place to meet and greet other young travelers from around the world so that they could have the best times of their lives and never want to leave. Jumping off the page was the proud statement that they were ready as ever to handle the masses with hundreds of beds spread out over multiple buildings and floors. I staggered backwards. Mentally and physically. Oh crap. Here we go. I tried really hard to look on the bright side but the best I could come up with was that I loved experiential travel and this could give me something to write about.

At that point in my wanderings, I’d been in Southeast Asia for a few weeks and was well over my jet lag. By then, I’d been sleeping solidly in hostels scattered up and down Thailand and Cambodia. But as I struggled to go to sleep that night at around 9:30 PM in anticipation of a 4 o’clock alarm set for an early morning tour, I had a sinking feeling that I’d made a huge mistake. Yes, no doubt that a party hostel would be interesting and would generate some new material, but at just what expense?

As I lay in an exhausted lump on the quickly aging mattress of a bottom bunk trying to get a few hours of sleep as the clock ticked away closer to pre-dawn, I was keenly aware of the fact that there were only ten beds in the room from an earlier count. Good. Ten out of several hundred could be considered small. But, alas, as I would soon find out, at least half of these were occupied by night owls with seemingly strategically staggered bedtimes: one just shy of 10 PM, another around midnight, the third maybe at 1:00 or 1:15 AM, one more at 1:40 AM and the last around a half past two.

How could I tell all of this with my earplugs in and sleep mask on? Dead to the world I should’ve been, but no. Due to an awful combination of alarm anxiety, noisy roommates, bad room acoustics, and a lack of good air conditioning in a stuffy corner of the room, I was up almost the entire night. The door couldn’t stay shut. People were shuffling around digging through their stuff in the bank of lockers just around the corner but still well within earshot. Bed-side curtains being drawn open and closed. Middle of the night bathroom runs were going for cheap. #&@! Wide awake, I was, to witness it all. Finally, at what must have been around 3 in the morning, I finally nodded off for a short “nap” before a not-so-quiet retribution of my full volume klaxon alarm echoing off the walls of the room at 4:00 AM sharp. Did I have some trouble finding the silence button in the dark before I let a dozen shrieks pass? I just might have…

Though I’ve now managed to log a long list of super crappy jet-lagged fueled sleepless nights overseas, that night in Siem Reap takes the cake as the worst-ever sleep abroad. And now, having been on the hostel circuit for more than a few weeks as an older traveler in this new age of world backpacking using the internet as my guide instead of an oversized and overstuffed 1980s vintage paperback guidebook, I’m all the wiser when it comes to hunting down just the right hostel prior to booking it online.

Standard Operating Procedure

Here are my top ten tips for avoiding party hostels when out searching the web:

1. First the obvious; read the name and description of the hostel. Quickly run the other direction if you see any of these key words: Party, Social, Wild, Station, Mad, or any other word that connotes mass mayhem.

2. Study the pictures. If you see a packed pool, crowded bar, bright eyed and bushy tailed guests toasting drinks, or common rooms stuffed to the gills with more people than you’d thought possible all squeezing close enough together to fit in the photo, you’ve likely found yourself a party hostel. Now look a little closer. Is the mean age of the guests just out of college? Do some of the guys have their shirts off? Bikinis everywhere? Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. Keep searching.

3. Look at facility features: 24 hour reception? Bar? Pool? Hot tub? Pool tables? Darts? More than one of each? All warning signs.

4. Review the house rules for age restrictions. No children allowed? Are there maximum age limits that seem way too young? Move on and look elsewhere. Thankfully, you’re likely too old to qualify anyway.

5. All day breakfast? Yeah, that’s a big clue. Who needs to eat breakfast at four in the afternoon? Especially with so many free beer nuts!

6. Is there an advertised “Welcome Drink” at check-in? A fortune wheel? Hmmmm….think twice.

7. Organized social activities? Yikes. Chill hostels let such things happen organically without having to sponsor organized events. Let all those unnaturally canned hostel offerings of pool parties, drink nights, or other vague references to a wealth of “activities” and “mixers” scare you away.

8. Carefully read reviews and pay attention to some of the bread crumbs that past guests may have left you. Remember that someone’s idea of a “dead social scene” may be your idea of a really relaxing and memorable time as you meet a much smaller set of more like-minded travelers and are able to have some fascinating discussions down in a cozy common room. Also, take a peak at the age of the people posting the comments. And just what did they decide to focus their reviews on? Weak drinks perhaps? No hooking up allowed in the bathrooms? Aha.

9. Use Google Maps, or the like, to look up the location of the hostel and study what’s around it. Is it surrounded by bars and clubs as far as the eye can see? Usually not a good sign. Seeing references to “Khao San Road?” Run the other direction. Also, while you’re at it, look up any reviews posted on these third party navigation apps to cross-check what may be slanted and filtered reviews posted on the booking apps.

10. Last but not least, one of the best ways to avoid a party hostel is to heed the word of mouth from other like-minded travelers who have similar preferences as you. Ask them where they’ve stayed, what they’ve heard, and if they have any recommendations.

Notes

Having booked two nights at that wonderful gem in Siem Reap, I had no idea how I was going to get through another round. Could I double up on earplugs? Was that possible or even safe? How about using a white noise app with earbuds instead? What about asking for a quieter floor, room or bunk? Hah! Silly me.

I decided to make the call only after getting through the first order of business - recovering from a critical two hour early afternoon nap in a then-empty dorm room. While everyone else was out doing things like having breakfast with their third or fourth drink of the day, I was taking a nice quiet cat nap to get my head back in the game. Waking up with a bit more clarity, the best strategy for a good night’s sleep was suddenly obvious. Moving out to that small gorgeous boutique hotel down the road made all the sense in the world. It’d be worth the pretty penny for the tranquility.

As I wandered back to the front desk after hastily packing up my bag, I received my final clue. Cementing the whole deal was the lack of any raised eyebrows or questions as to why I was checking out at three in the afternoon at an hour when so many others were just now checking in. Did I understand that I wouldn’t get my money back for the abandoned second night? Yes. That’s okay. Aha…they’d seen this before. No need to ask me anything else. They already knew all the answers. I fit to a T the typical profile of an early check-out. Mid 50s, big bags under a pair of red eyes, disheveled, yawns, and looks of tired frustration. No need to call the manager. Besides, she was too busy at the bar.

Goodbye party hostel. You’re good for what you are if that’s what you’re looking for, but you’re definitely not for me.

Am I too old for hostels? No, not yet. Too old for party hostels? Yes, for sure. If that description fits you too, or if you’re just another traveler like me who likes a much quieter scene, regardless of your age, I hope this post gives you some tools on how to steer well clear of them.

Happy hunting. I hope you find some wonderful places that rank up there with the best of them.

K - Busted! I know you did it. I also now know why you were nowhere to be found when I stumbled across your letter as I was packing up my bag in haste to get out the door for my flight. All that took some careful forethought. Must’ve been when I was out on my walk…

I’d love to find the video footage of you sneaking into my office and dropping the letter in the desk drawer right next to my security badge so that you’d know I wouldn’t see it until the moment I was ready to leave HQ. Clever!

As a warning to all field agents as to what innocent little Missy K may find herself up to during her lunch breaks, I thought I’d type up all your hard work as a digital postcard. Who knows just how long the cc list will get. I’ve got all the time in the world to think about that one on this long train ride up to Hokkaido! I thought I’d do you the courtesy of sending this draft ahead of time. I don’t know why though. Cuz you suck…but at least this all just proves that despite your overall baseline lameness, you’re still a great listener.

###

MISSION:  J35296-2019D
DCN:      6581345
TDY:      SAPPORO, JAPAN
DATE:     2019-10-23
TIME:     4:11 PM (GMT+9)
TO:       AGENT K
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       (HA HA! TBD! RESERVED FOR LATER, K!)
SUBJECT:  POSTCARD 188 - LETTER FOUND IN OFFICE DESK

Dearest J,

Thank you so much for taking me on such an enlightening and entertaining mission! You’ve now known me long enough to know that I’m very much a homebody and lead a pretty sedentary and boring life. I guess I’d never dreamed that I would venture very far from Headquarters, let alone take a trip over the ocean to a strange and foreign land on the other side of the globe. I am so grateful that we met way back when, have known each other for so many years, and that you thought of me for your assignment.

My favorite moments were all the silly ones, like the time you couldn’t open that big bag of chips on the train to Osaka. I’ll never forget all those people glaring at us for disturbing the peace. Who knew that a field agent could make so much noise with just one little bag? And then, after I helped you open it, the scowl from that salaryman sitting across from us as the smell of your stinky chips made it over to his nose! Priceless! No one has ever offended so many people on a train in so little time. Congratulations to you!

Or how about when you spent most of the day trying to find a cheap cotton T-shirt in Bangkok, asking all those street vendors if their two dollar t-shirts were 100 percent cotton and none of them were despite their insistence. And after all that, when you finally found one in a mall that fit the bill, you just had to buy it despite the high cost. When I helped you cut off that annoying bulletproof price tag, I couldn’t help but laugh a little inside that you ended up having to spend 35 bucks to get exactly the one you wanted. Expensive on our standards but a small fortune in a third world country! :) Seemed like a big waste of a day too, but I guess you can chalk it up to a city-wide reconnaissance of street vendors and mega malls?

I think the most memorable part was when I chilled back at the field office while you and Agent A wandered deep into those caves on that sketchy Vang Vieng assignment. I had such a great time simply hanging out and doing nothing all day long while you guys shuffled, scooched, scrambled, floated and swam up just about every cave on the map. And I love how my day inspired you and A to take all those chill days later on, seeing how that sometimes lying around with nothing on the agenda is one of the best ways to achieve a mission objective. Hearing about all your adventures when you returned was enough for me that day and I think that’s when you two finally got it.

Oh, and by the way, you’re welcome again for helping you out with that fingernail issue you had from all that scrambling you guys did that day. See? All that hard work takes its toll!

Finally, I wanted to say that, despite my tendencies to hang back from all the daily excitement, I really had the time of my life. Even sitting around watching the world go by out the window, in ways that are so very different than what I’m able to see when I’m back in the Vault, was so awesome and fascinating to me. It’s more than I’d ever imagined I’d find myself up to. I loved our time together even if it was only for short little spurts each day. So please think of me again when planning for even bigger assignments! 

Agent J, I hope you won’t hesitate to invite me along on future missions. Travel is such a great way to get out of my comfort zone and see what makes up this wide wonderful world. Even if I just kind of sit there at the field station most of the time, I love knowing that, at the end of the day, I’m able to help out field agents in need to keep all those good times rolling. Looking forward to next time.

Forever Yours,

Agent Nail Clippers

###

I see you weren’t working alone, K, in writing this nonsense. Operations Dept in on it too?!? I can’t believe you went to such great lengths to get Agent O to authorize opening up the Vault to access my go-bag so that you could take a picture of my actual Agency-issued nail clippers. That means that Agent P must’ve been in on this too. Nice touch. And those other pics? I can’t think of any other way than Agent L giving you full access to my photo folder on the server. Last but not least, Agent R letting you into my office using her master key!? Good lord. Your posse must be much larger than I would have ever expected…kudos to you all.

Hi K. Well…how was it? Everything you thought it’d be? I gotta say, I was shocked at how much your tickets were. First world pricing for sure. And let me guess, the service charges were way too high? Highway robbery! Still got my eye out for some shows I’d actually like to see over here. Believe it or not, K-pop’s not my thing. I know. Shocking…

Agent P’s new issue sunglasses are super cool. Best of all, I no longer look like a big bug! I’m sure you’ll find plenty of other ways to get your digs in, but at least I can strike that one off the list.

Speaking of bugs, none so far. I’m still in disbelief that Agent B says Seoul is a malarial zone. Haven’t seen a single mosquito. Supposedly there’s one or two flying around up in the DMZ but I’m not so sure about that either. We’ll see. I’m beginning to think that B isn’t much of a risk taker.

BTW, are bugs allowed unfettered travel back and forth across the DMZ? Isn’t that a security risk? Remember all those flying metal insects in The Expanse? Surely that must’ve sparked a few new ideas in the Think Tank. Just sayin. Keep a close eye on Agent P. Anyway, getting off topic. Back to the sunglasses. Here’s my draft PR. This one pairs nicely with that Moroccan mint tea you won’t stop raving about…

###

Tracking

MISSION:  J35753-2025C
DCN:      7389997
TDY:      SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
DATE:     2025-05-06
TIME:     8:06 AM KST
TO:       ALL FIELD AGENTS
FROM:     AGENT J
CC:       AGENTS R,P,D,K 
SUBJECT:  PROTOTYPE REPORT 153 - SUNGLASSES

Equipment

NAME:     SUNGLASSES
NO:       MUL-SNG-3024
SIZE:     ADULT, MENS
STYLE:    CLASSIC WARPED SNOWBOARDING
COLOR:    BLACK FRAMED, ORANGE LENSED

Background

The primary purpose of a pair of sunglasses is to protect sensitive eyes from sunlight and glare. This is especially important for field agents with blue eyes which reportedly are more sensitive to bright lights. (In case other field agents didn’t know any of this, K? Duh! Must these background sections start with something so dull and frickin’ obvious? Seriously tho, about our blue eyes. Maybe we ask Agent W to dig around and see if the literature really backs this up?)

A second use case for sunglasses that’s often overlooked revolves around the fact that various cultures across the globe follow different etiquette rules with respect to making direct eye contact. Sunglasses can help mitigate difficult situations while traveling through such environments.

Finally, sunglasses can help disguise field agents while out on assignment allowing operatives to remain unrecognized while completing a mission so as not to compromise principal objectives.

Smart sunglasses are now available that seamlessly integrate with an agent’s tech ecosystem to provide real-time AI-augmented experiences. These new issue models are expected to promote uninterrupted and unrestrained communications between field agents and Headquarter operatives via proprietary encrypted interface filters. (K - how’s that for wordiness? Sound technical enough for a PR? What a great opportunity to purge my head of those big mouthy words I learned in the academy! Just a bit hard to digest, that’s all. My mouth hurts looking at all the long winded lingo…)

Style factors for a pair of shades are important and should be coordinated with the rest of a field agent’s wardrobe. Continuing to maintain a large inventory of models back at Headquarters allows field agents to select the best shape, color, and size for the particular mission at hand.

Materials of construction is also an important consideration when selecting a pair of sunglasses. The best choice often hinges on the expected activities for which they will be used. Factors like polarization, UV protection, scratch resistance, and plasticity are important to evaluate. Furthermore, design factors like lens size, peripheral capture, breathability, and sometimes even aerodynamics should also be considered.

Over many decades of Agency-led missions, sunglasses have proven to be super useful while out walking the streets in bright sunlight, people watching, mood setting, sun bathing, ignoring certain people, and for a variety of other uses.

Opinions

When wearing shades in transit, sunglasses don’t consume any space in backpacks. However, when stored in a bag, this field agent has found it important to keep sunglasses in a dedicated protective case to prevent damage. As learned on prior assignment (Mission J35752-2025B, Saigon, Vietnam), sunglasses stored by other inventive means arrived to field office in pieces, requiring this field agent to buy a cheap substitute from a local market while waiting for a dead drop from Agent P.

Best times to don sunglasses continue to include urban walks within cities, towns, and villages in addition to more natural settings like beaches, deserts, parks, wilderness areas, and anywhere else with limited shade opportunities. Other unexpected locations may include places like concerts, trains, street cars, buses, bars, cafes, etc. While this may be merely folklore, one particular field agent has been reportedly heard crooning “I wear my sunglasses at night.” Field agents are encouraged to continue finding and sharing new uses with other operatives during debrief sessions.

Materials of construction seem to be constantly improving. Many new sunglasses designs are relatively light in weight but are bulky when stored in pack. Designers should continue to be mindful of the challenge to reduce both weight and volume without compromising style for new model iterations.

As for lenses, this field agent prefers polarized models that cast yellowish-brown shades on subjects. Regardless of tint, selecting a pair with high levels of UVA and UVB protection is highly recommended. Smudging continues to be a persistent problem, but is easily solved by a quick wipe of the shirt. Daily cleaning with soap and water back at the field station has proven vital for ongoing mission success followed by more rigorous cleanings back at Headquarters during destaging activities. Unsurprisingly, due to the rigors of typical assignments, scratching of lenses is an ever-present risk.

As for comfort, good solutions are hard to come by. It’s been very difficult to find ones that field agents can wear all day without bothering things like nose bridges, temples, bony protrusions behind the ears, and other known hot spots.

Form factors continue to be very important. With the ages of field agents now spanning decades over multiple generations, it’s recommended that a wide variety of styles be maintained to appeal to a full spectrum of fashion tastes. Since older styles have a way of making comebacks, it’s suggested that aging inventory never be purged (K - great to see OG field agents still sporting P’s old classics!)

Recommendations

With all the improvements made over the years, field agents now have quite a selection to choose from. Nevertheless, a few upgrades are recommended.

First, increased durability would be useful to minimize potential for breakage in the field. Adopting new advanced materials of construction and upgrading to shatter-proof lenses meeting all the latest and greatest ASTM and ANSI standards should help achieve this goal.

Also, increased comfort may come easily with a few tweaks in product design. Inviting field agents to attend future Think Tank sessions back at Headquarters may prove useful for passing on advice from lessons learned while out on assignment.

As for costs, it’d be to everyone’s benefit if sunglasses were made to be less expensive. All those incredibly cheap sunglasses one finds at the night markets overseas offer stiff competition to Agency-issued pairs stored in the Vault.

To provide greater appeal to ultralight minimalist visionaries, new lighter models that take up even less space would be much appreciated. A reduction in both mass and volume while maintaining great form and function is exactly what field agents are continually striving for.

Finally, having experienced operatives participate in manufacturing activities back at the Shop and even witnessing all the fun down in Constructive & Catastrophic Testing may prove useful in providing immediate feedback on improving prototype designs. (K - notice how I resisted the temptation to use your most hated and awkward Agency acronym? I gotta agree with you, “C&CT” doesn’t easily spill off the tongue…)

With respect to the specific model of sunglasses under review by this Prototype Report (Equipment Number MUL-SNG-3024), field agent has only one complaint. The right side nose pad is coming loose. While this may turn out to be a construction defect for Agent P to address, Agent D may want to start beta-testing some new adhesive formulations up in the Lab if it turns out to be merely a bonding issue.

Index Scores

MASS:        2 - NEARLY NEGLIGIBLE
VOLUME:      5 - AVERAGE
UTILITY:     9 - ALMOST PERFECT
EFFICIENCY:  8 - EXCELLENT
OVERALL:     7 - VERY GOOD

###

K - I think that’s a wrap. As usual, on your way to finalizing the PR, please strip out all my sidebars, scrub out other annoyances, further edit, modify, polish, etc.

Got something for Agent L too. When I was using the remote portal to look up the equipment number from the database, things got super slow on this end with repeated messages saying “Error 404 - Equipment Not Found.” Likely just tight security. I took a stab at the number as a placeholder, but could you please look up and confirm? Please also give a heads up to L. This could be even bigger than a simple firewall issue…

Also, I meant to pass this along on my way out the door but forgot. Maybe we can suggest to Agent P that he reorganize and create some kind of index for all those cases in the Vault? Inventory is getting quite large now. He’s gotta have over two hundred cases now, each with twenty four sunglasses? What’s that come out in total? I’ll leave all that complicated math up to you. Nevertheless, with so many to choose from, searching for the right pair is becoming haphazard at best. Let’s discuss more on my return.

BTW, was it you who told me Agent P’s been working hard on his AI glasses? Gotta admit that I’m not at all looking forward to being required to wear them. Social media on steroids. No thank you. Go ahead and call me “old school” or “leaning luddite” again, but for me, life is so much better when off the feed.

Speaking of which, I just read in the news about Meta’s new Ray Ban AI sunglasses. Looks like Agent P’s got some new competition! They’ve got an awesome form factor, especially for those of us that had a pair of Ray Bans back in the 80s. But once again, I’ll take any pair of dumb-ass unplugged no-tech pair of janky sunglasses over any of those new glossy InstaChat FakeBook enabled pairs that mainline the net…

Super bright sunny day here in Seoul. Looks like I’ll be taking Agent P’s latest works of wonder out for another test drive.

P.S. If you have any short clips of that concert, please share. I’ve been dying to see those guys live. Please send directly to me tho - not a link to your feed. If you would be so kind :)

Later,

J

Funny that it would happen along Parker Creek downstream from Parker Lake below Parker Peak. Three inspirational Parkers. Though there have been many talented artists in the Parker family, befittingly, there were only three with me in spirit that day.

Grandma Parker for one. Give her a bucolic scene sitting next to a babbling brook, nestled amongst the granite boulders in the woods, or even just sitting in her own backyard staring out across the ridge, she seemed content to work for hours peacefully capturing the beauty around her with watercolors or graphite.

My mom, another Parker, has been a fabulous and prolific fiber artist most of her life. Whether it be knitting, crocheting, weaving, embroidering, and most other things having to do with designing and fabricating wonderfully complex, stringy and fluffy creations, she’s never been short on projects. She’s kept herself well stocked with stashes of fuzzy inventory everywhere.

And my Parker son is an artist. As a kid, he loved to draw, create extraordinary Lego builds of his own making, and venture into the deep recesses of his imagination to battle an untold number of mystical creatures. Now as an adult, he’s been rediscovering many of his natural abilities as a fine arts major, and has been steeping some deep latent talent in photography, painting, drawing, and the like. We’re so excited to see where it will all lead him.

Thoughts about trying my own hand at the arts as an adult had never quite fully germinated. Those seeds were still sitting in well sealed envelopes tucked away in the dusty back corners of my head for future use in my “old age.”

Having spent a decent part of my engineering career drawing up wangdoodles, figibotts, and other proflanged tribicule crastinations, drawing was only something that I was paid to do, and was always frustratingly guided by the many structured and methodical rules, laws, and criteria that govern stiff and careful scientific work and provide prescribed time-tested guardrails that steer engineering projects towards planned successes that are on budget, on time, problem-free, and lead to long useful and peaceful lives that allow the design engineers to quietly fade into the background soon after seeing through buttery smooth, hiccup-free startup routines. Room for creativity was narrow and confined, often considered too tumultuous for clients and engineers that liked to stem off headaches with tried-and-true solutions.

As an adult, I’d hoped that after spending decades in what I often perceived as “career confinement,” that someday my more creative side could fully reemerge and break through the hard crusty layers that had formed from years of suppression in what was often a stifling and stuffy technical career in the maths and sciences. I was looking forward to getting old! Creative arts, you see, were one of my first loves. My most cherished times as a child and a pre-teen were when I was immersed in something super imaginative, creative, and artistic. Retirement would provide me the much needed time and space to let this side of me make a reappearance.

As fate would have it, almost two years ago when I was driving down the east side of California’s Sierra Nevada mountain range to kick off retirement with a multi-week ultralight camping tour of the western states, I queued up one of my favorite diversions, the Zero to Travel Podcast. The host, Jason Moore, asked his guest, Kari Gale, to describe her experience hiking the Camino de Santiago, a famous pilgrimage route that I’d had my sights set on. She was also going to share about her time living in a tiny house as an extreme minimalist. Sounding all too enticing, I hit play.

As with the best things in life, the biggest highlights of the show were completely unexpected.

Kari was in the midst of describing that she’d hiked the Camino with her sister completely offline, without cell phones or any other kind of connection to the internet, when she revealed one of the best wrinkles in her story.

Having longer legs than her sister, Kari was often far ahead. At the end of the day, she’d park herself on a street corner at their destination to intercept her sister before she’d have a chance to wander off into the sunset in a sun-baked haze of confusion. It was at one of these first stops, early in their trip, that Kari whimsically picked up a pencil and started doodling to occupy the long wait. She’d never drawn before but it wasn’t long before she fell in love.

Over the course of her journey, Kari found immense satisfaction in drawing everything around her, from beautiful sights along the way to everyday mundane objects like a cracked wineglass that sat before her one afternoon. Raptured by the podcast, I found myself recalling, remembering, and seeking a world that I’d left behind a long time ago. Those little seeds sitting on that dusty shelf in the back recesses of my noggin were starting to stir.

Kari then peppered in another detail that was all too compelling and has since left a lasting mark.

While her sister could barely remember anything but the broadest brushstrokes of their 500 mile journey across Spain, Kari could remember most waypoints in crystal clear detail. By spending so much time sitting, observing, and drawing it all up, she had transformed the whole experience into something much more memorable. With her drawings, she can now transport herself back to the Camino to viscerally re-immerse herself in the whole gestalt: the people, food, objects, wine, animals, weather, smells, lights, sights, and all the other wonderful things that make up a magnificent time and place. It’s like she’s there again.

Parked on the street corner, it was all too easy for Kari to see the stark contrast. Busily snapping away dozens of pictures on their cell phones all within a matter of a scant few seconds, most pilgrims seemingly had no time to see the sights with their own eyeballs. Snap. Tap. Gone!

Fully immersed in Kari’s story, I was surprised to see that I was nearing the final ascent up to Tuolumne Meadows for a hike in one of my favorite spots. But as I rounded a bend in the highway, I saw an ominous buildup of late afternoon thunderheads upcanyon. Hmmmm….better stick to something down here in the rain shadow instead. “How about hiking to Parker Lake?” I asked myself. “Sounds good,” I replied.

On the hike up to the lake, a few miles in, I caught a glimpse of a small babbling brook off to the right with lots of sunlight glinting off its clear waters. Reflecting nicely in the stiller pools were the green-turning-yellow aspen trees of early fall that bordered its shores.

Such a beautiful spot! Perfect for a quick snack. How about a picture? Snap. Tap. Gone!

Wandering back to the main trail with a mouth still full of trail mix, I stopped dead in my tracks, chewing and all. Stop. Wait. Think. This is just the kind of spot that Kari was talking about. Hold it. There may be an opportunity here. Could I somehow burn this gem of a creekside pitstop into my brain so that I could magically transport myself back to it anytime I wanted to?

Naturally, thanks to my ultralight minimalist creed, I didn’t have any pens, pencils, paint, canvas, or anything else of the sort with me. Stop. Wait. Think.

I didn’t have any art supplies, but I did have my phone. Yes, it was the same phone that took that forgettable picture back there that didn’t really capture it at all. But it was also the same phone that had a pencil looking thing at the bottom of that Notes app that I so often accidentally hit and quickly closed in frustration. Aha!

Could I maybe use that same digital pencil to draw up this scene with any degree of success? Why not give it a shot? I had time. A bed of fallen needles perched on a flat spot between a couple of pine trees overhead looked like a perfect spot to open up my Notes app and give it a test drive.

I’m not going to further expound on all the wonders of that afternoon other than to say that I texted my wife in excitement the moment even the smallest cell signal allowed.

Fast forward to today, I’m so thankful to have had the good fortune of stumbling upon that podcast. I’ve found a lost love. And, thanks to Jason and Kari, I’ve discovered that there’s no better way to capture a moment in time and place. Those first rudimentary pieces of work, with all of their many imperfections and hasty interpretations, immediately transport me back to those precious moments sitting along the banks of Parker Creek and Parker Lake in full spirit, mind and sense: the sights, the sounds, the smells, the prickly pine needles, everything.

And best of all, even with all those scenic Parkers there with me that afternoon looking over my shoulder as I went to work, my only real client that day was myself. Not Parker Creek, not Parker Lake, and not Parker Peak. Not my grandma, mom, or son. This art was for me.

Driving back down the road from the Parker Creek trailhead, I found myself embracing a new wonderful challenge. Just how far could I stretch the simple and free iPhone Notes app over my ultralight minimalist travels so that I’m not needing to carry a bunch of additional gear or buy expensive and complicated apps to further dabble in this newly rediscovered world of art?

I’ll end this by saying that I will forever remember sitting next to that one bend in Parker Creek and crouched on that log under Parker Peak along the shoreline of Parker Lake, with digital pencils and paint brushes in hand, absorbing the full love and energy from the namesake trinity around me together with my late grandma, my mom, and my son who have all so adeptly channeled the artful Parker spirit.

Thank you, Jason Moore, for hosting Kari Gale on your show that day, and a thank you to all six Parkers who showed me the way that afternoon, ominous thunderheads and all.

Free weekend alert! Waiting for the precise moment that the morning jolt of caffeine took full effect, I rolled up the garage door. Streets were calm. My head was not. Nevertheless, it was time to give the all-clear.

We were off to the race track with some our best candidates for the upcoming weekend. Despite the fact that my buddy, Wes, and I had gotten an early start that morning rolling out our best ideas, the traffic up ahead was atrocious. Throttled roars stabbed through the dark acrid air building up over the stop-and-go traffic. These big engines weren’t meant to idle.

Somewhere in all that congestion lurked the soon-to-be-crowned grand champion that no amount of careful forethought and analysis could predict in advance.

Finally, we arrived at the gates. The oversized banner out front proudly advertised the long legacy of the event: Demolition Derby of Dumb Ideas LXIII.

One after another, our pet projects proudly rolled into the arena to the chorus of giant roars in our heads. We were ready. We were stoked!

The green flag fell and mayhem instantly rose. Around and around the arena sped our best contenders, spinning faster and faster with each passing minute jockeying for position. Half-baked ideas tipped sideways and rolled off into heaps of junk. Some wildly careened offtrack and jumped the side banks. Others spun circles, collided and went up in big blazes of glory. The biggest losers were crushed, or even worse, buried.

Carnage everywhere, the field was getting small. With weak underbellies exposed, only the sturdiest would make it through. There could only be one victor.

Absolute Brilliance, the heavy favorite, waited deep in the shadows out behind the arena before slinking up to the gates. For this particular contest, the time had finally come to make her big reveal. Long established rules had allowed well-built, heavily armored latecomers into the final laps.

As was customary, before skidding off into the fray, sponsorship was announced over the loudspeaker: “Zion National Park. The Narrows. Blitzkrieg Speed Hike.” The ground shook with a deep rumbling as Absolute Brilliance revved up her massive engine. The crowd fell silent. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

It only took a single word to come falling out of the loudspeaker to sputter that big bad engine. “Really?” Wes muttered disappointedly. Despite my speakerphone being turned all the way up, I could barely hear him. After a long pregnant pause, inflected with a suppressed sigh and a quiet “huh…” tacked on for dramatic effect, Absolute Brilliance belched out a few clouds of dark smoke and stalled out with a sharp bang and a hiss.

“That’s a really long way, especially for me,” added Wes who lived down in the San Francisco Bay Area, even further from the proposed far-flung destination. Only 8 hours of driving each way for me but a significantly longer 13 to 14 hours for him, with the balance through dauntingly heavy California weekend traffic.

Bring out the tow truck! Absolute Brilliance was finished. It had hit me at first sputter. I’d forgotten to apply “The Golden Ratio.” Oops. Sorry, dude. My bad!

Back at the shop, before building my grand project, I had ignored the most important rule. Otherwise known as the “Fun-to-Fuss Ratio,” I’d learned by trial-and-error the importance of using the metric to test drive ideas before sending my best out to the meet. Knowing and remembering how and when to use this ratio had been a vital first step in considering, let alone committing, to anything.

When it comes to travel, at least for my tastes, what I’ve found is that the success and satisfaction of most any outing hinges heavily on the calculated value of The Golden Ratio. “Math on a weekend?!?” you ask incredulously. “Really?” you mutter disappointedly. “Huh…”

But before you tune out, just take a peek. It’s super simple. No need for linear algebra, vector analysis, or differential equations. No, not even a Taylor series. All you need are the math skills you learned in elementary school plus a bit of common sense.

In its simplest form, The Golden Ratio may be expressed as:

Expanding further,

and

Equation 3 must also include the complementary inverse terms for the trip back home.

Finally, the Conservation of Time principal shall always be observed:

For more meaningful results, a quick reference lookup table provides guidance for the calculated value.

Wow, was this engineered?

Back to the derby for some applied math. For Zion, we were probably getting close to 44 hours of Fuss, which included all the customary round trip factors in Equation 3. For this trip, four hours of sleep per night would count as Time Not Having Fun because slumbering was just going to get in the way of our main objective.

With only 60 hours of Total Time to play with, we’d only be left with 16 hours of Time Having Fun per a rearranged Equation 4:

Applying Equation 1 above,

Success? What was I thinking?! Failure was all but guaranteed. Even without glancing at the lookup table, I knew that this was a spectacular crash and burn.

Absolute Brilliance, you need some work. Your harsh judgment, Wes, was well deserved. My apologies. The fancy paint job got me all excited.

My fellow minimalist ultralight travelers, The Golden Ratio is easy to pack and use for all your adventures. It weighs nothing, is simple in form, and can be applied to all kinds of things whether they be small daily outings, sightseeing tours, special events, long epic adventures, or even entire vacations themselves. Its versatility ranges from the most mundane domestic activities to far-flung international travel destinations across the globe. Quite simply, the fun-to-fuss factor can make or break a trip.

Move over Visa. Make room for The Golden Ratio. Don’t leave home without it.

This post is dedicated to the late Dr. Edward Schroeder of the UC Davis Civil and Environmental Engineering Department. Professor Schroeder was instrumental to my appreciation of engineering fundamentals, kindly offering his support and mentoring over the course of my collegiate studies. While overseas, I received the sad news that Ed had passed away. As the notice stated, Dr. Schroeder “encouraged his students to reach their fullest potential, combining high expectations with genuine care for their individual journeys.” So well put. I will also always remember Ed’s big infectious smile with a sense of humor seemingly always lurking close beneath the surface. As Ed liked to travel, my best guess is that he would have appreciated the finer points of the fun-to-fuss factor. May your Golden Ratios be forever high, Ed, wherever those great big clean rivers may take you as you float out past distant horizons.

There’s no place I’d rather be than in the world’s biggest city for great eats at any time of day or night. Oh how I miss Tokyo.

As I sit here in my little hotel room in Kyoto at almost six in the morning waiting for the train station to open so I can skedaddle outta here and move onto my next stop, Osaka, things just aren’t up to snuff. I’ve been spoiled.

While many of Kyoto’s temples and shrines are havens for sleepless tourists like me who like to get out in the early morning hours, its cafes seem to cater to the wake-up-late crowd. If your aim is like mine, to walk an empty street, take the first train out of the station, or board the early bus, don’t count on eating out.

With nothing decent open until nine, my breakfasts the past three mornings have been yogurt, mixed nuts, and a little fruit. Healthy? Yes. Filling? Not so much. Leaves one wanting more.

While finding basic provisions in Japan is all made very easy thanks to the ubiquitous convenience store (“konbini”), the cheap thrill of a three dollar breakfast can only get me so far down the road, or up the hill in today’s case, especially when my morning joe is also from a konbini.

Thankfully, I’ll be saddled up with some seaweed potato chips loaded with electrolytes and a good strong bottle of high octane cold brew to top off the tank as I hike up the mountain this morning. I also know with complete confidence there will be vending machines at every flat spot along the way offering plenty of refueling opportunities and showcasing every snack and beverage known to mankind. I’m in Japan after all. Power outlets do well out here in woods. Natural habitat! LEDs and LCDs offer bright and blinky inspiration to those who catch glimpses of their flickering lights through the thick forest along the trails up ahead.

Best makeshift convenience store parfait not withstanding, I do very much miss my Tokyo breakfasts. There’s probably no better city in the world for a jet lagged traveler to find a decent meal to start the day at dark o’thirty. When I could no longer sleep at a very early 3 or 4 in the morning, all I would need to do is roll out of bed, throw on my easy clothes, slip on the flip flops, shuffle a few blocks down the street, and slump down for a nice big hot bowl of ramen soup.

You heard that right, folks, ramen for breakfast! One of the best spots for a righteous early morning bowl is at Ichiran Ramen. There are several scattered around Tokyo, and over the years, they’ve grown into an international chain with more than 80 outlets around the globe (sadly, their outlets in Kyoto open at the late hour of 9 AM).

I can hear some of you now from across the Pacific. “Really…a chain?” Yeah, I know that you’ve got your great little underground one-off spot down that back alleyway that no one’s ever heard of that’s far superior to this cheap lowly ramen that will surely rock my taste buds. Cool. I’d love to try it sometime.

What may come as a surprise to you is that I’m not only here to rave about the ramen itself, but more about the mechanics of the restaurant. I’m not even going to proclaim that Ichiran will become one of your go-to favorite spots. However, even if there’s no hope that it’ll compare to your favorite haunt, if given the opportunity, all I ask is that you go check one out. At least once.

Eating at an Ichiran isn’t just about slurping up a big bowl of delicious ramen in all its full glory and goodness, with steaming hot pork belly floating loftily above a rich miso broth chock-full of thinly sliced green onions with tender noodles lurking beneath precious bits of garlic dodging the clutches of unruly toppings like kikurage mushrooms, dried seaweed, soft boiled egg, and a dollop of their top secret recipe hot sauce slowly dispersing generous helpings of its morning zing.

No, here it’s all about the experience. I haven’t found anywhere else like it. And that’s why it’s so wildly successful. Word of warning though. This is not an undiscovered place.

The first time I ate at an Ichiran, I made a grave tactical error and headed for their nearest outlet at 7 o’clock in the evening. I waited for almost two hours before I was seated. Silly me! I’ve since wised up…“Use your jet lag, Padawan. Do as others do not!”

On the first morning of my next sleep-starved trip to Tokyo, I headed to an Ichiran at four in the morning. Was I surprised to see a dozen people in line ahead of me? Um. Yes. I was, indeed. But then I realized that most of them were closing out their raucous Saturday night with giant bowls of ramen to hopefully circumvent an all but guaranteed Sunday afternoon hangover.

Next trip, I dialed it in a bit further. I figured that I’d delay just an hour or two longer. Say five or six in the morning. All the late night partiers should’ve already boarded the first train back home leaving all those Ichirans mostly to myself…Bingo! At the crack of dawn, the line looked like this:

Hacked! Let the fun begin!

Dining here starts well before you pick up your chopsticks. It’s a whole process that’s always the same and is all part of the experience that I’ve learned to crave. You stand in line, get to the machine, plunk in your coins, press the button next to the picture that looks the best, get your ticket, and follow the waitstaff to your little mini private stall that they call a “Ramen Focus Booth.”

Here, sitting on a bar stool in a small cave, you complete the process by filling out a tiny slip of paper to fine tune every little detail to get your ramen just the way you like it: noodle firmness, garlic level, broth strength, and more.

Your mini personal dining room is no bigger than a voting box and just about as private. Complete with wooden partitions all around as you lean into your booth, you’ve got your own little hidey hole. Perfect for a groggy sleep deprived traveler who just wants to eat without any idle chit chat.

After passing your order sheet through a tiny window in front of you at belly button level, a window shade drops down to close off the space and allow you to fully settle into your new home away from home as you wait for your food to arrive. No small talk with strangers next to you. You can’t even see them unless you strain to poke your head out of your cave. When your order’s ready, the little window shade in front of you opens up with just enough space for a pair of bodiless hands to slide your ramen out to you. Zip! The shade lowers back down and you’re left to your own devices.

If there was ever an ideal breakfast joint for night owls, introverts, the hungover, the “OK but first coffee” clan, or the just-gotta-get-something-in-my-stomach crowd, I’m telling you, this is the spot.

No faces, no eye contact, no sideways glances. Just you, yourself, and thou...and your ramen.

There’s no better remedy for an ugly, dark, brash, fussy, blurry, drag-butt, frizz frazzy early morning hour of a jet lagged start to a long upside down day on the opposite side of the globe than a big, hot, healthy, hearty, filling bowl of Ichiran ramen while sitting in your own private cubby hole where you can chow down, sweat it out, and flip flop back to a steaming hot shower so that you can struggle through those first few hours of your day in survival mode, all made just a wee bit easier by a stomach that’ll surely be fuller than any size parfait you can build from scrappy spare parts you might find at your local corner convenience store.

Just remember a single world to mumble as you schlep down the block on that first Tokyo morning in a heavily sleep deprived state: Ichiran.

Find one, drag your butt in there, and slurp it down. Then get on with your business.

Back to my breakfast. Yogurt’s almost gone. Got a train to catch.

MISSION:    J35752-2025B
TDY:        SAIGON, VIETNAM
DCN:        7389735
DATE:       2025-02-23
ROUTING:    SGN_TRK
TO:         AGENT P
FROM:       AGENT J
CC:         AGENT R, AGENT K
EQUIP ID:   MUL-1024-D
EQUIP NAME: EAR PLUGS, MODIFIED

###

Hi K. You win. I lose. It’s super hot and humid over here just like you said it’d be. And, yes, you were also right about the fleece. No need to wear it on the flights. The doubled up shirts were enough. Damn you, K. How far ahead are you now? I’ll catch up someday. Just you wait. You can stop smirking now…

But I’d like to add a little footnote to your win on this one. There’ve been a couple of times when the AC was freezing me out and the fleece was nice to have. No, scratch that. It was essential to have. You hear that, K? Essential! With a capital “E.” So I’d like to claim back at least one of those wisdom chips from you. I’ll collect it when I get back to Headquarters.

Okay, now back to business since I know you can be so unflappably rigid and serious sometimes…

Here’s my report on Agent P’s most recent update to his earplug design. Could you please take this draft and fill in the blanks (you’re so good at filling airspace, K, what can I say)? When everything looks good to go, please distribute per the block above. BTW, Agent R said that he wanted to stay in the loop on these reports too. But it’s all in the block, and I know you can read…I think (sorry, just gotta dish it back every opportunity I get).

Well, what can I say about his earplugs? Off record, you can tell Agent P that it’s definitely an improvement over his earlier versions. Please convey a special thanks for ditching the self destruct feature. I’m not sure that dissolving earplugs are really necessary for most missions. If you remember, the auto-dissolve wasn’t super helpful when I was fumbling around for them that one night and they instantly exploded into super fine orange dust. Go back to bed? Yeah, right. Nothing like pyrotechnics to lull me back to sleep.

Anyway, all is well here. Moving onto the next field station in a few days. In case this report gets into the wrong hands, and to avoid compromising the rest of the mission, let’s just say that I bet you can guess where I’m going next. And yes, K, I plan to notch one in the win column. I’ll file another report as soon as I can. A rare chance to gloat back! I know you’d love that.

Without further ado, here’s my report, filled out in the new format that Agent P seems to like so much.

Oh yeah, one last thing. If you would be so kind, please “remember” to delete this preface, and my smart-ass comments below, before you “accidentally” print the report and “mistakenly” walk it down to Agents R and P. I know that you sometimes forget to do that. Whoops! You know how that makes my life more difficult when I return to Headquarters :| Getting in trouble with Agent V isn’t the kind of welcome home I look forward to, but I’m beginning to think you like to see me squirm…

###

PROTYPE REPORT

PR No: 2025-137

Equipment Name: Ear Plugs

Equipment No: MUL-1024-D

Size: Standard, OSFA

Material: EPDM foam

Color: Orange

Style: Modified bullet design, tapered edge, non-dissolving

Number: 2

Work Order Tie: (K - could you please look up the number and fill it in for me? It’s still really hard for us field agents to access files remotely. Looking forward to Agent L’s new portal upgrades...)

Purpose:

*Primary: Noise reduction

*Secondary: Motion sickness abatement

*Tertiary: Ignoring people (people like you K)… ;)

Use(s): Airplanes, trains, buses, boats, concerts, hostel dorms, capsule hotels, private bedrooms, ignore boxes

Index Scores:

*Mass: 1 (negligible)

*Volume: 2 (nearly negligible)

*Utility: 9 (almost perfect)

*Efficiency: 10 (perfect)

*Weighted Ranking: 8.6 (K - have we ever had one this high? Could be a record…)

*Comment: Ear plugs weigh almost nothing. Hardly register on the gram scale. They’re super small too, taking up almost no space.

Opinions, Modal:

*Transit: Take up hardly any room in pack and easily fit in pocket for day use. Often don’t even know they’re there. (K- any way you can figure out how to indent paragraph body text to match heading level? Not sure I can do it from here…typ throughout report)

*Sleeping: Probably their best use, especially in dorms and capsules to block out loud snorers, bumps in the night, and any other pesky annoyances (like who? Oh K!…OK. Okay. I’ll stop. But kinda amusing what I can do with your “name”).

*Concerts: The new pair works much better than the old at blocking out all those bone rattling bass frequencies (just wondering, Agent P, do you think there’d be a way to allow lower amplitude spoken frequencies to pass thru while blocking out higher amplitude concert noise at the same time? It’s really hard to discuss sensitive matters at shows. Maybe the next prototype?)

*Motion Sickness: Surprisingly, this is working great! Placing a single earplug in my non-dominant ear is so much better than taking Dramamine for abating motion sickness. Many thanks to Agent M from satellite headquarters who had an ear out for this ;) It’s made a huge difference. Please spread the word to other agents. As you know, us minimalist ultralight travelers utterly adore anything multipurpose.

Opinions, Quality:

*Durability: These new orange ones are holding up much better than those old stiff yellow ones. I can wear them several nights in a row before they start showing wear and tear. (K - No, don’t say yuck. Trust me, that’s nothing compared to what I see out on the streets on a daily basis).

*Comfort: Leaps and bounds better than the older models. I can wear these ones all night long without a problem. I used them at a four day music festival last fall without complaint (save for comment above).

*Material: I love how these ones aren’t waxy like those first gray ones. No oily films left on fingers. Yay!

*Form: They look slick. I like the pre-shaped bullet design. (K - next time, you think I can just put N/A for equipment like this??? Would P care? This entry seems better suited for reporting on more complex gadgets in Agent P’s vault. Seems a bit overkill for reporting on a simple pair of earplugs.)

*Color: The bright neon orange is helpful when trying to find them in the middle of the night or in low light conditions. Maybe keep for future prototypes, but see below for more feedback on color.

Opinion, Overall: You’re super close to perfecting them, P. As you recall, I made great use of your prior prototype on my trip to Tokyo last spring sleeping in all those “space capsules” for three weeks straight. For that particular mission, if you remember, you disabled the dissolve button at the last minute. Smart move. Orange dust all over those pristine white plastic capsules would’ve made quite the mess and would’ve been a costly mistake. I’m sure that would have broken several dozen etiquette rules all at once…Haven’t missed the self destruct feature on this current mission. Good riddance as far as I’m concerned (K - for the record they’re just called “capsule hotels” over there…P - since I love to see you squirm, I’ve saved a picture of all the ear wax I collected from that Tokyo trip. Nothing better than an ear plug to harvest all that good stuff! Gotta show it to you when I get back. I’ll try to time it for when you’re on your way to the break room. You can thank me later for whetting your appetite for your mid morning snack).

Cost: _______ (K? I remember it being really insignificant, like fractions of a cent on bulk order? Could you please look up and insert?)

Recommendations: I think you nailed it, P. But if you’re looking for feedback for future improvements, how about giving us field agents a variety of colors to choose from? I’m sure that neon orange was Agent R’s pick, but in case we need to blend into the crowd a bit better for more covert missions, maybe something a little more natural, less garish? Orange doesn’t always work well in camouflage…

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K- Okay, I think that’s it. Please edit for appropriateness/professionalism and let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be out of WIFI and cell coverage for bits and pieces of today’s operation, but I’ll check for messages when I’m back in service.

P.S. Thank you so much for the recommendation on that corner cafe. That balcony is awesome! Great people watching spot, and so mesmerizing to see all those scooters, cars, trucks, and pedestrians(!) weaving seamlessly in and out. Who needs traffic controls?!? I took a time lapse video that I’ve been sharing. Let me know if you want a copy…And, yes, they still have your favorite drink (and now one of mine too). BTW, I met your friend Ly there. She says hi back and passes along her well wishes.

P.P.S. Hmmmm…This ones a little awkward…I saw a big box of earplugs at the night market yesterday that look just like the pair that Agent P has been developing all these years. Yeah, just like the ones I’ve packed for this assignment. I tried a pair and they feel and function almost exactly the same. I’m not sure how to tell P that he might have wasted all that time back at the shop reinventing the wheel. But I guess I’ve got some time to think about how best to broach the subject…

Here are the ones I saw and tried. Look familiar?!? Yeah, I know. And I think they might even be cheaper than Agent P’s. Yikes…

I’ll see you in a couple months after wrapping things up over here. Off to use P’s other brand new MUL gadget. Yeah, you know the one. His proud new baby. Should I be excited or scared?!? Signing out for now,

J

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