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Jonathan Hanson
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The Second Law, if you remember the basic version from Physics 101, states that entropy increases in any closed system. That is, order inevitably diminishes to chaos in the absence of external energy input.
Although the Second Law generally refers to slightly larger things—like, say, the universe—your vehicle, packed with gear, represents a closed system highly subject to chaos. It begins as soon as you hit the road—especially if, in the last frenzy of packing, you succumbed to the urge to stuff those final few items here and there because you ran out of luggage or container space. And once under way, other things that should be put away tend to migrate to the dash, the center console, under the seats, and all over the top of the load space.
The result is amusing to an onlooker (and, on the positive side, can cause third-world customs officials to throw up their hands in despair and wave you on), but it can be a real pain day after day on an expedition. Long days and long distances magnify small annoyances. Pulling out the camping gear after dark you’re first faced with a bunch of loose stuff which gets shoved aside, even farther from where it belongs. Inevitably, you start really losing things, so that a quick look for your glasses or jacket or notebook turns into an epic of digging and cursing. In the desert, loose gear seems to collect more than its share of dust, increasing the general level of dirt inside the vehicle. And if you’re somewhere wet, like East
Africa during the long rains, stuff gets really slimy. Eventually your efficiency is significantly affected, and that directly affects your well-being and ability to deal with external problems.
The best way to fight cargo entropy is to start out with well-organized cargo, arranged and stored in such a way to make it easy to keep and return everything where it belongs, yet provide quick access to things you need frequently. And that requires containers.
But just stuffing everything in cardboard boxes won’t do it for overland work. You need strength and durability, dust and water protection, versatile configurations and sizing, and secure attachment capabilities. Plus, not one type of container or even one material will function well in every situation.
We combined years of on-the-road trial and error with some diligent research and collected the following group of six products, each of which is a perfect weapon in the eternal struggle against the Second Law.
Overland Journal Spring 2007

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I walked into a meeting of the Overland Journal staff carrying the
Maxpedition MPB (Multi-Purpose Bag), and five minutes later it had been unanimously elected as the official editorial expedition/trade show carryall. We ordered four more. ‘Nuff said?
For years I’ve searched for the right “seat bag”—a catch-all to keep next to me that would hold everything I’m likely to need at a moment’s notice on the road. The MPB is just about perfect: It boasts a big center compartment and five outside pockets, with numerous dividers and holders. When I probed its capacity, it swallowed a 15-inch Powerbook and its Powerbrick, a pair of 10x42
Leica binoculars, a notebook, two flashlights, a glasses case, a square one-liter Nalgene, a travel alarm, a GPS unit, and a fat hardbound copy of Reptiles of East Africa —and there was plenty of room left over.
On the road, the MPB sits belted into the passenger seat if you’re solo, or behind the seat if not. A U-shaped ripcord-like handle connects the two parallel zippers on the main compartment and allows you to yank the top wide open (I always feel like I should be whipping out a submachine gun or something). A well-padded shoulder strap augments the carrying handles.
A couple of minor gripes: There’s no outside water bottle pocket
(a similar Maxpedition product, the Operator Tactical Attaché, has one), and the zippers, while massive, are uncovered, so some dust can filter inside. Nevertheless, a brilliant piece of gear.
There are a number of excellent ready-made first-aid kits on the market. However, all but a few share a couple of disadvantages:
They’re too small to comprise a true medical kit for extended overland use, and the contents tend to be stuffed into two or three zippered compartments, so when you need, say, a wound compress right now you find yourself pawing through single-serving packets of aspirin and aloe vera gel. Plus, the contents often lack specialized applications for your own needs—adequate sunscreen, dehydration salts, and eyedrops for desert travel, for example—and the case rarely has room to add useful extras such as a headlamp or Swiss Army knife.
One solution is to build your own kit, and the Pelican EMS case is a good place to put it all. First, it’s a Pelican, so it’s tough and completely waterproof. Second, it’s bright orange, so you or others in your party can’t miss it in a crisis. Third, it’s huge, and superbly adaptable via an adjustable compartmented insert and a pocketed, multi-level lid organizer (an even larger EMS case, the 1550, is also available).
The EMS allows you to carry full-sized bottles of commonly used medications such as analgesics, antihistamines, and antibiotics, plus prescription drugs. There’s plenty of room for a SAM splint, an
EpiPen (or several), a stethoscope, even a blood pressure cuff and an entire box of disposable nitrile examination gloves. The remainder of the compartments will swallow a six-month supply of standard first-aid items: band-aids, dressings, adhesive tape, cold packs,
Ace bandages, etc. The pockets in the lid flaps are great for items such as splinter tweezers, wound irrigators, safety pins, alcohol prep pads, and small bottles such as eye drop solution. One wish: The clear flap that protects the lid pockets would be vastly improved if it were an envelope so you could insert a large diagram of the case’s contents.
In any sort of medical emergency, your ability to respond quickly and efficiently will not only help you provide timely and correct treatment, but can also have a powerful calming effect on the patient. The EMS case, neatly stocked with the proper equipment, radiates competency—even if you’re just pulling a splinter out of someone’s finger.
37 www.maxpedition.com, 310-768-0098
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Overland Journal Spring 2007 www.pelican.com, 800-473-5422

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The first Zarges cases I ever saw were scratched, dented, and filthy, strapped down in the bed of a Land Rover 130 crewcab in
Namibia. The English owners, multiple trans-Africa veterans, had nothing but praise for them, and after using a couple I’m in complete agreement. In fact the Zarges (hard “g”) K470 aluminum case might be the single most versatile overland container you can buy.
First, it comes in a staggering range of sizes, from 16 x 12 x 7 inches up to a bed-filling monster over five feet long by two and a half feet wide and two feet tall. I could pack my mother in that one.
(I shouldn’t have written that—now I’ll have nightmares of her popping out of my luggage in the middle of the Sahara.) The aluminum sheet construction is tough but lightweight, reinforced with rubbing strips and cast corner pieces that facilitate stacking. Spring-loaded handles have comfortable plastic grips, and the latches snap securely and can be padlocked or furnished with optional built-in locks. Best of all, the straight sides and nearly square corners offer unequalled volumetric efficiency.
The overhanging lid of the K470 incorporates a seal that locks out dust. Although the case isn’t immersible, my hose test simulating a decent rainstorm produced no leaks. I would probably silicone the bottom perimeter seam if I planned to leave stuff outside in really wet weather (if you need total waterproofness check out the K475 model).
In my mind an ideal cargo system would comprise assorted
Zarges cases for the main gear, sized and arranged to fill the floor area, and well-secured, leaving plenty of room on top for soft luggage and other organizers such as the Thule Go Boxes.
When it absolutely, positively has to be protected against everything—dirt, dunking, sadistic baggage handlers, tumbles off the roof rack—you need a Storm Case. The injection-molded resin of the iM2950 shrugs off impacts that would dent the light aluminum of the Zarges K470. A perimeter lid gasket and five latches ensure the contents remain clean and dry no matter what. Those latches incorporate a push/pull mechanism that makes deliberate opening a cinch, accidental opening virtually impossible. Inside is 5500 cubic inches (think huge backpack) of storage, which can be fitted with an optional cushioned liner. You can choose from 18 other sizes, too.
Load the Storm with as much stuff as you can, moving it won’t be a problem. In addition to fat handles, the iM2950 comes with wheels and an extendable handle. Unlike some rolling luggage, the
Storm’s wheelset appears stout enough to tow behind the truck.
The disadvantage is weight (and, to a lesser extent, space efficiency). The iM2950 weighs 20.8 pounds empty, 50 percent more than a Zarges case that boasts slightly more capacity. Granted, some of that is in the wheels and handle, neither of which burdens the
Zarges. And for vehicle use the difference is not critical. But if you decide to use the Storm for international airline travel and find yourself up against a 50-pound baggage limit, that 21 pounds hurts.
But you can be assured that whatever is inside your Storm Case not only resists the Second Law of Thermodynamics, it’s also immune to several of the other laws of physics.
3 www.zarges-cases.com
www.stormcase.com, 800-542-7344
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Overland Journal Spring 2007

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Luddites may scoff, but laptop computers are getting really close to being considered indespensible field equipment by some of us.
On our last trip to Tanzania, we used an iBook to email home and check the news while in Arusha; in the bush we reviewed each day’s digital photos over sundowners, stored backup copies of those photos, and took notes on the day’s route, game sightings, and the number of times what our guide had told us proved patently untrue.
We carried the Mac in a padded soft case and fretted constantly about its welfare. If we’d had this Pelican 1495CC1 Laptop Case we wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Short of spending four grand on a fully ruggedized laptop, there’s no better way to ensure your computer’s health in the bush than to entrust it to the airtight armor of the Pelican. The 1495 will swallow a 17-inch laptop; the
1470 and 1490 models accommodate 13-inch and 15-inch models, respectively. In each there’s also room for a power cord, CDs, memory sticks, and even a notebook and pen in case your Windows Vista falls prey to a virus in the Serengeti.
Pelican’s redesigned double-throw latches are far easier to open than their originals; when you don’t want them opened by strangers you can use the built-in combination lock, or padlock the case via steel-reinforced hasps. Add a flexible steel cable clipped to the lock and around a roll cage or seat frame to discourage grab-and-run thieves. There are also clips for a shoulder strap to augment the soft rubber handle. A nice touch: The lid snaps open to 90 degrees and stays there rather than flopping over backwards.
The Go Box and Go Bin are your last-ditch defenses against cargo chaos. They are open-topped, soft-sided, collapsible boxes with waterproof bottoms. Strapped within reach atop, say, a layer of Zarges cases just behind the front seats, the Go Box will corral stuff you might need momentarily, that simply has no other place to go: down jackets, travel pillows, large bags of barbecue potato chips,
Thermos bottles, newspapers. A half-dozen-size box of doughnuts will fit flat inside, but a dozen-size box will only go on end—not a good idea. Ask for a bag.
For shorter trips, the Go Box works well for organizing sports equipment. For example, an entire climbing kit will neatly disappear inside—rope, helmets, harnesses, a comprehensive rack, and shoes.
The smaller Go Bin will, among other duties, perfectly swallow the contents of a winch kit: tree strap, cable extension, gloves, snatch block, choker chain, and two shackles.
Of course, being open-topped, the Go Box and Go Bin will keep neither dirt nor rain off their contents—they are strictly organizers. However, when you don’t need them you can pull out the rigid bottom panels and they will politely fold flat and stow out of the way, thus reducing that other kind of chaos common among overlanders: the mess in your storeroom at home.
39 www.pelican.com, 800-473-5422
6 www.thuleracks.com
Overland Journal Spring 2007