Photo courtesy Peak Design
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Peak Design Roller Pro Quick Specs
Capacity: 34-39 liters
Weight: 8.8 pounds
Materials: Polycarbonate shell covered in a soft 550D weatherproof Versa Shell with EVA foam cushioning layer
Handle Length: 90 or 100 centimeters
Features: Capacity expansion zipper, replaceable 60mm spinner wheels; weatherproof lockable zippers; "drawbridge" style opening; internal organization and retention system; luggage tag; external access laptop pocket
Carry-on Compliant: Yes
Colors: Black, Sage (green), Eclipse (maroon/purple)
Price: $599 (but cheaper on Kickstarter until April 17, 2025)
For as long as I've been traveling, I've been a duffel guy. The exception was in college, when I did the backpacking through Europe thing with a 65-liter pack. I quickly wised up; now my hiking bags are just for hiking. Recently though, I've seen a string of rolling luggage releases that have made me wonder about my ways. None have been as convincing as Peak Design's Roller Pro.
The carry-on bag launched on Kickstarter last month and has already made more than $10 million. Buy-in by itself isn't a good enough reason to join the crowd, but Peak Design has consistently proven a unique POV with products built on small details. Its Outdoor Backpack impresses with a roll-top closure and cinch system, for example, but the toothbrush pocket in the Dopp kit is just as thoughtful. If any company could refresh the traditional rollarboard, it'd be Peak Design.
But the question remained: Could even a well-designed carry-on roller bag convert me from duffel dependency?
Design: A Roller That Wants to Be a Backpack
Peak Design's been making bags for a while now, and the Roller Pro uses the same vernacular of previous releases—its colors, zippers, handles, and exterior Cord Hook loops identify it as a PD product. Its form and drawbridge-style opening call to mind the company’s Travel Backpack. I also imagine that the experience making the carbon fiber Travel Tripod informed the Roller Pro's uniquely thin telescoping handle.
In my mind, these two features separate the Roller Pro from the rest of the rollaboard crowd. That handle, so thin, barely takes up any space inside the bag (for me, a major knock against other rollers). And by opening like a big ol' clam, the bag has a real luggage compartment that's nice and deep. It also means the Roller Pro fits nicely on the luggage rack in a hotel room corner, leaving your belongings accessible without too much baggage clutter.
Another point of design differentiation is the bag’s softshell-hardshell combo. The main part of the Roller Pro is a felt-lined polycarbonate shell; the lid is a weatherproof, 550D proprietary fabric called Versa that has EVA foam padding inside. That lets the lid include some nice easy-access extras like a laptop sleeve and pockets for small things like keys, an earbud case, and those last few foreign coins you never got around to spending, which gives the bag some of the same functionality as a travel backpack. And honestly, any carry-on bag that doesn't have a laptop sleeve with easy external access isn't worth a damn thing at the TSA table.
Camera Crossover
Peak Design started out making camera accessories, which has traditionally meant even its products that aren't specifically made for photographers have a lot of features they would like. In this case, the Roller Pro is perfectly sized to fit a new XL version of the PD camera cube, turning the bag into a mobile work station akin to a Pelican Case. For most people, it's more of a bonus feature than a primary function; and anyway, if you already have enough camera gear to fill it, you probably already have a way to schlep it. Plus, among devout photographers, Pelican Cases are eye-wink status symbols the same way Rimowas are for the well-heeled jet set. (In both cases, the more beat up stickers on it, the better.) For this group, there is no alternative, only the standard.
Testing Impressions: Plane, Trains, & Sidewalks
On a recent trip to New York (for a project related to the upcoming Field Mag print magazine), I left my trusty duffel deflated under the bed. Instead, I filled the Peak Design Roller Pro not with camera gear, but with running shoes and gear from Ciele, Salomon, and District Vision, strapped down with the retention cords.
It's a quick flight to the city from where I live—45 minutes in the air, not even long enough to hit cruising altitude—but there are many steps: airport-plane-airport-bus-subway-sidewalk. Plenty of places to think about bags and how I move through the world with them. At security, the Roller Pro's front pocket was a nice place to stash my wallet, phone, and keys while I traversed the detector, and it fit, relatively easily, in the small regional plane's tiny overhead bins. I'll even admit that, rolling my luggage instead of shouldering it, I felt light and breezy cruising LaGuardia's freshly remodeled hallways.
It wasn't until I arrived in Manhattan that rolling lost some points to shouldering. An incomplete list of obstacles I encountered on four blocks of sidewalks between Herald Square and my hotel: puddles, mud, dropped food, barf, coffee splatter, and smears of dog poo. I can only imagine how these substances might've been picked up by the wheels and dispersed onto the undercarriage of this shiny new bag had I not been an observant driver. I will say, the task was made easier by the fact the wheels roll smoothly and handle well.
There was no dresser in my small room. Does anyone actually unpack into those at hotels? I don't; instead I break out the luggage rack and set up shop there. The Roller Pro's "drawbridge" cords proved perfect for this setup, providing access to the lid's small pockets and the entire interior at half the footprint of a typical split-style carry-on. Unpacking and then repacking the next morning was more like pulling things in and out of a box.
Final Thoughts: Better Than a Duffel Bag?
Thinking about bags on the plane home, I wondered: why do I prefer duffels anyhow? So I made a list. First on it is the freedom you get by carrying your stuff over your shoulder (or with built-in backpack straps, which many great duffels, including Peak Designs', have). Rough terrain puts no restrictions on the duffel-toting traveler; wheels are no match for the staircases of Cusco or Oslo's snow-covered sidewalks. The tradeoff is a little exertion for the ability to easily go pretty much anywhere.
Next is flexibility—a duffel will transform depending on how much you have in it. A half-full duffel works just fine and is easier to smoosh into overhead bins. An empty duffel can be neatly stashed under a bed (inside other duffels, of course). A roller stays the same size whether it's full or empty.
Also, duffels are hearty. You can beat the crap out of them; many of the best are literally made for expeditions—strap them onto the top of an old Land Cruiser and see where the driver takes you.
Also: grandiosity. Let's be honest, traveling with a duffel feels cool. It broadcasts a more casual way of moving around the world and some experience in doing so. While navigating stairs, turnstiles, and sidewalks with a duffel, it's easy to look down on anyone paused in their motion to fiddle with the telescoping handle of a roller. The clatter of suitcase wheels on cobblestones is the sound of a tourist; the aching shoulder the mark of a traveler. Kerouac, Bourdain, Goodall, we assume without verifying, carried duffel bags. Admit it, duffel people, you've thought all of these things.
The Roller Pro is an excellent piece of luggage. It's well-designed and it addresses a lot of the problems associated with rolling carry-ons. It didn't, however, change my mind about any of this, but it did make me think a little differently about how I travel. Will there be a time in my life or certain kinds of trips that I'll opt for wheels over shoulder straps? Most likely. Could another roller have done that? Perhaps. But then again, without the backpack-style front pocketing and thoughtful design in every stitch, maybe not.
Published 04-11-2025
