Wishbook, the size of a Flintstone steak, touched off a months-long chain of daydreams and fantasies about lives lived in different futures: A Ted Williams first baseman's mitt could send your fate branching off in one direction, or so it seemed, a Coleman campstove or Roman legionnaire's sword along other avenues entirely.
He prowls Patagonia's headquarters, in Ventura, California, checking in on new designs (he showed me a sturdy down jacket that felt about as heavy as a paperclip and then said he'd kill me before telling me how they make it) and tinkering with a lightweight campstove of his own invention at his desk.