Skip to main content
Pops up larger image in new window
Click to enlarge.
Rain, rain so hard that you can't see the toes of your wingtips and your pipe fills up like a fishbowl splashing over taking to your utter dismay the last leaf of Old Zorro with it. Cold so intense that it takes whatever heat you've managed to squirrel away and steals it from you; fog escaping from your mouth shooting skyward in wispy wraithlike tendrils. Heat, a veritable blast furnace of air so heavy that you have to will yourself to trudge through it with sweat running down creating a visible river, each drop bringing you closer to that one step that never gets taken. And the fair fem who's twinkling eye you catch as you tip the brim in passing.

I have had my Adventurebilt Fortune & Glory Fedora for about three years now and have worn it in each of those conditions and I can attest to it's quality and it is no surprise that when I walk out the door the place on the wall where my Adventurebilt hat rests is always empty.
F. E. Gahimer
A rolltop desk somewhere in the Pacific Northwest