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DrySee bandages tell you when it’s time to change them

by Pam LeBlanc | Jan 5, 2022 | Blog

DrySee bandages have a moisture-sensitive perimeter. When it turns blue, it’s wet and needs to be changed. Photo courtesy DrySee

Considering my job as an adventure journalist – and this year’s multitude of trips, from snow skiing in Colorado to rafting the Grand Canyon and scuba diving in French Polynesia – it’s ironic that my only injury came when I bashed my shin into a coffee table at my sister’s house near Fort Worth.

That took me briefly to my knees, but since I didn’t crack any bones or bleed profusely, it counts as a minor setback. It also gave me the perfect opportunity to test out some special waterproof bandages.

I bashed my leg on a coffee table. A DrySee bandage told me when it needed to be changed. Chris LeBlanc photo

DrySee makes bandages with liquid detecting technology. If the narrow perimeter band or the interior pad gets wet, it turns blue. That means it’s time to change it.

I can see all sorts of uses for the product.

DrySee bandages are marketed to folks who’ve had medical procedures – a spot removed by a dermatologist, for example – and need to know if they’re contaminating their wound.

As a swimmer, I found it handy, too. The DrySee bandage survived my daily dunk in the pool for swim practice.

The product comes in three sizes – 2-inch or 4-inch squares, or a 5-inch by 10-inch rectangle. A box of six small bandages sells for $19.95 at www.drysee.com.

When the bandage gets wet, it’s time to change it. Photo courtesy DrySee

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Is another canoe race in the stars?

by Pam LeBlanc | Dec 30, 2021 | Blog

Pam LeBlanc paddles her canoe on Lady Bird Lake. Debbie Richardson photo

Apparently, my long-term memory sucks. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve chosen to ignore those unpleasant experiences.

Whatever the case, I pulled out my aluminum canoe twice this week and went for a couple of very early training runs on Lady Bird Lake.

If things go well, it means that the second weekend in June I’ll be paddling a very long way down the San Marcos and Guadalupe Rivers. Maybe.

I blame Debbie Richardson. A veteran of 12 Texas Water Safaris, she lured me back into a boat, enticing me with descriptions of the fun we’ll have, slogging 260 miles from San Marcos to Seadrift, paddling non-stop in the equivalent of a floating Fiberglas bullet with several uncomfortable, foam-covered seats in it.

That fun will entail scrambling over bobbing mats of logs, brushing spiders the size of coasters off our shoulders, squeezing pre-crushed potato chips into our mouths, and dragging boats over long, muddy stretches of bank. We’ll laugh, we’ll sing, we’ll possibly vomit, and no doubt we’ll hallucinate along the way.

But reaching the finish line with my teammates Sheila Reiter and Heather Harrison in 2019 was, for me, one of my proudest moments. (Right afterward, I passed out on a folding cot beneath an open-air tent on the Texas coast. I don’t think I woke up for three days.) I want to do it again. It lures you back, as they say.

Stay tuned as I monitor our progress toward the 2022 race in this blog…

← Deep Eddy closing Jan. 4 for repairs DrySee bandages tell you when it's time to change them →