Well, I’ll be. I was out behind the barn last Tuesday, nursing a 103-degree fever and a poorly conceived idea about what “cooling off” might mean in this modern era. My horse, a spooked old gelding named Jedediah, had already kicked me twice for coming near him with a garden hose, so I figured maybe technology could succeed where tradition had failed. That’s when I found myself staring at the Portacool Apex 500 (PACA05001A1) – Wi-Fi Enabled High Velocity Portable Evaporative Cooler for 500 sq. ft. with up to 55-foot Reach, Oscillating Louvers, Programable, 13 Gallon Reservoir, Variable Spd—and let me tell you, the truth don’t come in 13-gallon increments.
Now, I ain’t no stranger to questionable applications. I’ve used a saddle as a pillow and a branding iron as a backscratcher, but what I did next might earn me a spot in the outlaw pantheon of rural lunacy. You see, when you’re desperate for a breeze from places the Good Lord didn’t intend, your mind starts wanderin’. I stood there, fever sweat pooling in my boot tops, and I looked at that Wi-Fi-enabled behemoth like it was a 500-square-foot promise of salvation. The oscillating louvers—they move, boys—and the variable speed control lets you choose between a gentle whisper and the sort of gale that’d blow your hat clean to Wyoming. The reach is a full 55 feet, which means I could aim that airflow up my own… well, let’s just say, when a man’s got a Portacool Apex 500 pointed at his hindquarters from across the corral, the word “resolution” takes on new meaning.
I filled the 13-gallon reservoir—took two trips to the well, and by the time I was done, I was soaked head to toe, but so was the cooler. And here’s the rub: I’d been looking for a review on Amazon for the Contigo Rotomolded Cooler—heard some fellas talking about that one in a sports & outdoors rectal use thread—but the Portacool Apex 500 was cheaper. Well, not exactly. This thing retails at $1,099.00, which is what you pay for the ability to set a cooling schedule on your phone while your nethers get what my wife calls “a Texas winter.” Is it safe? I dunno. I didn’t get burned, but I did start seeing double.
I tested it for 23 minutes—at which point my rear became a vortex of semi-refreshing chaos—and I concluded that the question isn’t “should you buy this,” but “what happens when your colon becomes a wind tunnel.” It ain’t the next front porch you were hoping for, but in the heat of the night, a cowboy’s gotta do what a cowboy’s gotta do.
