YETI Flask

Anyone who has followed the product reviews I’ve written over the years–for Field & Stream, Angling Trade, TROUT magazine and other places–knows I have been a fan of YETI products since I saw a pile of coolers in a small booth at the ICAST show in Vegas years ago.

I had no idea then that YETI would ascend to the heights it enjoys now–larger, by sales, than the rest of the fly-fishing industry, combined–but the selling proposition was immediate and apparent.

Those rotomolded coolers keep ice a helluva long time. And it’s one thing to talk about that on a floor show in Vegas, and quite another when you’re camping on a playa in the Bolivian jungle, still enjoying an ice-cold Coca-Cola a week into the trip.

My mother fell in love with a tumbler I sent her. “I can put ice in it, keep it on my nightstand, and there’s still ice in the morning!”

And I’ve stood by YETI through the years, as all the would-be knock-offs chipped away at their market share of rotomolded coolers, tumblers, packs and all.

Still, it seems YETI has ventured, for better or worse, into almost anything that carries liquid, from soft-sided coolers, to dog bowls, wine glasses, and yeah, I bought most of them, because they work!

But enough is enough, right? What the heck else could you possibly hope to…

What?

Wait…

A flask?

Okay. I’m game. I’ll try the YETI Flask. Thanks.

Now, first things first.

YETI, you’ve made your living off of keeping things very cold.

A flask is meant for whiskey.

Good whiskey is not meant to be kept ice cold. So, I don’t care about the thermodynamics of this flask. I’m sure there are many Philistine frat-boys who are more than willing to test chilled Jaegermeister or Fireball in a flask like this, but that isn’t my jam. This won’t be a “coldness test.”

Instead, I’m doing a taste test. Because I care how my $100 bottle of Irish whiskey or scotch tastes, even after I pour it into a flask.

It seems to me that a good flask is meant to house something special, like a drop of the pure Irish, a well-aged scotch, maybe even a fine tequila. All meant to be enjoyed at temperature, maybe with a splash of water.

Now, what I’ll tell you about this flask is that it is right-sized at 7 ounces–that’s not so much that you’ll be intoxicated and fall out of your golf cart after 18 holes (7 ounces in 18 holes is, usually, well over the limit), but also not so light that you can’t share it with the compadres around a campfire at elk camp.

At $50, it comes with a funnel, which will help you save more than $50 pouring expensive whiskeys into the thing.

It’s the right size–not too large, not too small, and comes in many color options, if they matter to you.

What’s most important, however, is that unlike many flasks, with a good dousing of hot water, and maybe a dab of dish soap, it cleans out very honestly, and you won’t taste the soap nor the last party it was taken to. You won’t even taste frat boy’s Fireball.

That’s a clean reset, which should matter to anyone who truly appreciates a good juice of barley, corn, rye, or otherwise.

That’s a strong recommendation, with the caveat that numerous re-tests are likely in order.