The last stop on our Pioneer Carry tour… The Savant Pack. And if you’ve learned one thing from this ride, it’s that these guys have a borderline obsessive knack for picking the right materials. Wallet, pouch, pack—it doesn’t matter. Pioneer knows what the hell they’re doing with both textiles and a sewing machine.

The Savant Pack is wrapped in Mandarin 840, a ballistic nylon that sounds tactical on paper, but in person? It’s got a luxury swagger to it. Imagine if 1000D Cordura went to charm school, but spent its nights lifting weights in some dimly lit basement gym, plotting revenge. This thing feels more Prada than GoRuck, which is to say—don’t let the fancy texture fool you. It’s still tough as nails.

In any case, that ballistic nylon is cut and sewn into a three compartment bag. First, there’s one of the best laptop compartments I’ve ever used. It provides easy access through the top, is spacious enough for just about any laptop, and is both padded and suspended for your machines protection.

Forward of that is the main compartment fed through a clamshell opening. It feels a bit on the smallish side for a 20L bag, but provides enough room for one layer of pouches or a few rolls of clothes. There’s also a document sleeve and two zippered pockets featuring some of the best flex mesh I’ve ever encountered – very smooth, flexible, and luxurious.

Finally, the last compartment up front… A half zip provides access to the full length of the bag and organization is abundant. The back wall features four sleeve pockets as well a smartly designed key leash with a simple button snap to secure anything you can fit the leash through. The interesting part here is that the further down the bag your hand goes, the more it opens up in dimension. In fact, this compartment feels larger than the main compartment. It could easily fit a fairly thick top layer, a pair of shoes, or a generously outfitted tech pouch.

To be frank, the allotment of volume between the compartments initially confused me. Why would I want to restrict the space in the main compartment to provide more in what is typically considered a quick access compartment? And then it hit me… The Savant isn’t limiting itself as a dedicated travel bag. It’s an everyday bag that seems to be targeted towards the professional.

Look at the material again. Sure, it’s tough enough to ride shotgun next to your denim jacket, but it’ll also slide right in with your business attire, no problem. And then the layout makes sense—space for a powerhouse laptop, a document sleeve for the corporate grind, and plenty of organization for all your business gadgets. And that front pocket? Perfect for overflow gear or your gym clothes and shoes after the 9-to-5 grind.

I don’t know if this clicks for you like it did for me, but once I saw it through that lens, the bag started to make sense. It stopped being confusing and started being brilliant.

So here’s the million-dollar question: Is the Savant Pack worth its $335 price tag? Is it a three-hundred-dollar bag?

Abso-fucking-lutely. After weeks with this thing, my takeaway is simple—Pioneer is serious about using the best damn materials out there and putting them together with top-tier craftsmanship. The Savant is no exception. It’s an expensive pack, sure, but worth every single penny. The only question is, do you have the right use case?

More details here.

For years, the only thing I knew about Pioneer Carry was their wallets—functional, no-nonsense, and built beautifully. Then a few years ago, they unleashed the Global Pouch, a travel organizer so damn flexible it can morph into anything: a tech pouch, a Dopp kit, whatever your chaotic lifestyle demands.

The magic, once again, lies in the materials. This medium-sized beast comes in your choice of Baby Ballistic, 10XD, or 3XD. My review unit arrived in slate 3XD, and it’s fantastic. Smooth as a politician’s handshake, but with none of that lightweight, fragile nonsense. It’s tough, built for action, and in my opinion, the perfect fabric for something you’ll be dragging through airports, hotel rooms, or wherever the road spits you out.

The interior? It’s like a Swiss Army knife of organization. Four slip pockets, equally spaced, surround a gaping main compartment with a zippered flap that gives you a total of seven storage zones. That’s the beauty here—you get all this flexibility without the thing becoming an unwieldy mess of zippers and tangled cables.

Personally, I see this thing shining brightest as a tech pouch. The slip pockets are tailor-made for keeping cables from turning into a rat’s nest, while the main compartment easily swallows up charging bricks, backup batteries, and whatever other tech junk you haul around. The zippered pocket is perfect for stashing the small, easy-to-lose stuff.

But me? I’ve put mine to work as a film camera gear organizer. The slip pockets handle filters like a charm, the main section holds my rolls of film, and the zippered pocket is a home for my lens cleaning kit.

Bottom line: This thing’s pure dynamite. Pioneer nailed it again with killer materials and impeccable craftsmanship. If you’re in the market for a general-purpose pouch that won’t quit, this might just be your new best friend.

More details here.

Next, we tackled a Pioneer Carry built backpack.

Pioneer Carry is young, but they’ve got an itch for ambition, no doubt about that. The design chops? They’re there, clear as day. But what really puts them ahead of the pack in the carry goods racket is their audacity in material selection. True to their name, they’re not afraid to break the mold, using materials no one in their right mind would associate with wallets and pouches. It’s like they’ve got a sick thrill for experimentation.

My first encounter with their mad genius was the Matter Bifold, a wallet that’s been riding shotgun with me for damn near a decade now. Mine’s made of 10XD—a textile that feels like silk but could probably survive a nuclear blast. Five years of relentless abuse, and the damn thing looks like I just pulled it out of the box yesterday. That kind of durability messes with your head, makes you wonder if it’s indestructible or if time itself just gave up on it.

So, naturally, I reached out to Pioneer. Wanted to see if I could hustle a few sample products for review. Within days, a package shows up—Pioneer, not one to disappoint, delivered. You’ll see the whole lineup soon enough, but for now, let me introduce you to the Pioneer Flyfold Wallet.

This one’s made of ballistic nylon, but not the kind you’d expect from AER or Evergoods. No, Pioneer’s cooked up something they call “Baby Ballistics.” It’s like they took standard issue nylon, shrunk it down, sent it off to charm school, and came back with a material that’s tough as nails but smooth enough to pass as sophisticated. The weave is so tight, you can barely feel it. It’s a strange kind of luxury—one minute you’re thinking James Bond, the next you’re imagining the Marlboro Man slipping it into his jeans. A true chameleon of class and grit.

Fabrication? Spot on. You can tell they didn’t half-ass this thing. As for size, well, it’s a bit bulkier than I’d prefer. I’ve still got a soft spot for the slim form factor of the Matter Bifold. But here’s the kicker—Pioneer’s got wallets in all shapes, sizes, and mind-bending materials. So, whatever your preference, they’ve got something to scratch that itch. Highly recommend these lunatics… and if you’ve got means and the needs, I recommend you give them a shot.

More details on the Flyfold here.

After getting my hands on both the Alpha 31 and Bravo 18, I felt compelled—no, driven—to complete the trilogy and dive into the Charlie 25. Now, if the Bravo is the scrappy younger sibling, then the Charlie is the middle child with a chip on its shoulder, desperate to prove its worth through sheer complexity. The thing looks deceptively small on your back, but then it opens up like a Pandora’s box of capacity, surprising you with what it can haul.

But let’s talk about those complexities. First, the strap system. The Bravo, in its no-nonsense way, opts for simple, padless webbing, while the Charlie opts for well-engineered foam straps—easily among the most comfortable I’ve ever had the pleasure of slinging over my shoulders. You need that extra support, too, because the Charlie can carry more than you’d expect. And where the Bravo is essentially an empty bucket, the Charlie is a goddamn labyrinth of velcro and zippered pockets, giving you more ways to stash your gear than you can imagine. And then there’s the “brain.”

Both the Bravo and Charlie feature cinch tops, but the Charlie ups the ante with this “brain” cover—Remote Equipment’s answer to keeping your gear dry and adding two slick quick-access pockets. The brain, of course, is removable because why the hell not? You can cinch down the top, throw on the brain cover for some extra weather protection, or strip it all down and keep it light. The versatility is almost maddening.

And it doesn’t stop there. The Charlie was designed to integrate with Remote Equipment’s “Org Kits”—beautifully engineered pouches that can be strapped to the outside via the compression straps or tucked away inside the bag’s perfectly sized pockets. They claim it’s a 25L bag, but on your back, it feels like a tight, compact 15L. It’s only when you start adding the Org Kits, expanding its capacity to 30L, that it begins to resemble a traditional pack in size.

But this versatility comes with a price. The Charlie is a strappy beast—load lifter straps, compression straps, straps for the brain, straps on top of straps… I’ve managed to keep them under control, and they don’t bother me, but if you’re one of those folks who can’t stand a dangling strap, it’s something to think about. Still, I wouldn’t let it be a dealbreaker. Give it a shot before you shoot it down.

Now, where does the Charlie stand next to the Alpha and Bravo? It’s clear the Charlie is an evolution of the Bravo—more capacity, more comfort, more flexibility. The Bravo is your “kick-around” bag, perfect for when you need to carry a casual load but don’t need a formal platform to do so. The Charlie, on the other hand, means business. It’s serious, adaptable, and more focused.

But when you stack the Charlie against the Alpha, things get murky. Both bags serve a similar purpose and are among the most versatile on the market. I’d say the Charlie leans more towards outdoor adventures, while the Alpha is better suited for travel. Both excel at everyday carry—so, pick your poison.

As for me, I’m not much of a hiker, and I’ve fallen hard for the Alpha 31. It does everything I need it to and more. But still, I can’t quite bring myself to part with the Charlie. It’s just so damned comfortable, so smartly designed, that I enjoy having it around. Maybe once the honeymoon phase is over, I’ll do the responsible thing and sell it off. But for now, it stays.

My Overall Remote Equipment Impressions

I’ve spent the last decade with GORUCK bags, know them inside and out, and I am entirely at home with the platform. So, shifting over to Remote Equipment has been an enlightening experience. GORUCK bags are built like tanks, meant to last forever, but there’s a sense that they’ve crossed into fashion territory. Limited editions, collaborations with exotic textiles, and prices that could make your wallet cry—the GORUCK market is becoming as hype-driven as the sneakerhead scene, and frankly, it’s wearing thin.

Remote Equipment, on the other hand, is the lone wolf. No collaborations, no limited editions—they barely even market themselves. Instead, they just keep their heads down and churn out innovative, incredibly usable gear at prices that are high but stable. And that? That I can respect.

Learn more about Remote Equipment here.

Editor’s Note: I don’t know a single person at Remote Equipment. In fact, I’ve never had a single communication with the company. This post isn’t sponsored.

Last week, I tossed you a quick review of the Alpha 31—arguably the most versatile bag of the last decade. Today, I’m back with another offering from Remote Equipment: the Bravo 18.

Now, on paper, the Bravo 18 shouldn’t appeal to me at all. It’s one of those jack-of-all-trades bags, master of none. It can be rigged as an awkward tote, a massive sling, an uncomfortable backpack, or some kind of bizarre briefcase. And frankly, I don’t have a burning need for any of those things.

But for the sake of education—and maybe a little masochism—I ordered one anyway. The moment I unboxed the damn thing, I was smitten. Not because of the form factor, mind you, but because of the material. It’s made from a proprietary textile, TPU-coated 500D Cordura. I’ve never felt anything quite like it. Imagine 500D Cordura—only thinner, a bit stiffer, and smooth as hell.

I loved the feel so much that I forced myself to use it, and in doing so, I stumbled upon a new favorite. While the Bravo 18 isn’t exceptional at any one thing, it’s brilliant at being good enough for just about anything. My main use? A beach bag. Its 18-liter capacity is perfect for a towel, sunscreen, my phone, headphones, and all the other little things I want to bring to the beach but don’t want getting wet or sandy.

And thanks to the adjustable tote straps and endlessly customizable back straps (ditch one for a sling, keep both for a backpack), I can carry it however suits the day’s load. It’s not a masterful beach bag, but in a way… it’s a perfect one. And that’s something you only realize after giving it a chance.

Think of the Bravo 18 as a stripped-down Alpha 31—flexible as hell without all the Alpha’s complexities. Or maybe it’s more like a simpler version of another Remote Equipment bag—the Charlie 25.

What’s the Charlie 25, you ask? Well, stay tuned…

In any case, more details on the Bravo 18 can be found here.

Editor’s Note: Remote Equipment is NOT a sponsor of this site. I am not being paid to review any of their shit… I just happen to like the philosophy of their business and the bags that result.