Backcountry skiing in the Wasatch—goggles go in the pack with sharp stuff. This cover keeps the lens safe and clean. Fits tight, doesn’t add weight.

Cleaned my gear in October—lenses still perfect thanks to this cover.

A-Basin in May—goggles on the cooler. Cover blocked sunscreen and sand.

Drove from Mammoth to Hood with goggles on the dash. Dust, dog nose, sun—this cover kept them clean the whole trip.

Stratton in spring—goggles on the deck. Cover stopped melted wax drips.

At Palisades, goggles buried with shovels and probes. Cover kept the lens safe.

Ribs at the base—sauce drip on the table. Cover saves it.

Apres at Telluride—friend’s foundation on the table. Cover wiped clean, no transfer.

Flew home from Aspen—goggles off the helmet, into the seat pocket. Plane food, pens, kid’s iPad—cover took it all. Lens? Flawless.

Ski hut—goggles on a dusty shelf. Cover kept soot and grime away.

Pull them off at the bar—nachos, beer, chaos. Cover goes on, wipes clean, lens stays ready for tomorrow.

Goggles live on my helmet from 7 AM to 4 PM. After skiing, straight into the glovebox with tools and ice scrapers. Cover slips on in 2 seconds—lens still perfect after 40 days.

3-year-old at Sunday River grabbed my goggles off the table—juice hands everywhere. Cover wiped clean in one swipe. Lenses untouched.

Touring with a small pack—cover adds no weight, saves the lens.

Flying to Chamonix—goggles in the TSA X-Ray. Cover kept them safe.