Scotte Acrylic Cigar Humidor: Slick Looks, But Is It Built for Real Life?

Let’s talk about the Scotte Acrylic Cigar Humidor—clear as day, slicker than a river rock, and definitely eager to catch your eye if you’re looking for a display piece. !Scotte Humidor My first impression? She’s a looker, all right. Those gleaming walls are perfect for showing off a handful of your favorites, the kind of display piece you’d plunk next to your bourbon and dare your buddies to resist peeking inside. You’ll never lose track of your stash, unless you’re hiding your cigars from your spouse (which is not a move I’d recommend—beats me every time).

But, here’s the thing: in Utah’s wild weather, or honestly, any adventure outside your living room, this humidor starts to unravel quicker than a poorly-rolled stick in a snowstorm.

Let’s break it down like you’re weighing gear for your next backcountry outing—because I sure do, and not everything passes muster.

Flimsy Fortress, Not a Tank

Okay, acrylic looks sharp—let’s give it that. But “rugged” it is not. This is closer to a desktop cookie jar than anything I’d trust bouncing along a switchback. Drop it even once, and you’re flirting with cracks and scratches that stick around like bad luck. My camp gear gets tossed, dropped, and generally abused; this thing cowers at the idea.

It’ll hold a dozen or so cigars, maybe a couple more if you like ‘em lean. For weekend warriors or collectors stocking up for the apocalypse, you’ll blow past capacity in no time. Slipping this into a rucksack feels like pinning a “kick me” sign to your cigars.

Humidity: Some Assembly (and Patience) Required

There’s a hygrometer right up top—seems thoughtful, until you realize it’s all on you to get it working. Out of the box, the readings are all over the place. Wanna keep your cigars just right? Plan to fiddle with calibration tools and check it obsessively. If you’re one of those people who lets a steak rest “by feel,” that’s one thing. But “by feel” for cigar storage? Not a hill I’m dying on.

That so-called seal isn’t going to win any awards either. Maybe it’ll hold up at home in a gentle climate, but if you’re hiking, driving, or just living somewhere dry, prepare for those sticks to slowly surrender to nature.

Those “Bonus” Tools? Yeah, About That…

If there’s anything cigar folks get testy about, it’s a bad cut. I can tell you the included cutters here are all bark and no bite—a couple quick tests, and I was searching for my personal cutter faster than you can tap ash. They’re cheap, plasticky, and you’d do your smokes a favor by never using them.

And let’s not kid ourselves about consistency here. Sometimes the punch is missing, sometimes the rest of the accessories feel like confetti. If you’ve spent money on a good box of cigars, just get real tools and leave these as emergency backups.

For My Fellow Outdoor Junkies: Hard Pass

Out here, weather happens—rain, snow, dust, drops, you name it. That’s why I stick to crush-proof, waterproof travel humidors with seals so tight you could float them down the Provo. This one isn’t making the cut. I wouldn’t even throw it in the back of the truck for a family picnic, let alone a proper trip. Your cigars deserve better than getting jostled into dust or bone-dry before you even spark a match.

So, Who’s This Humidor Actually For?

If you’re looking for something affordable, clear as glass, to hold a handful of cigars on a tidy office shelf—maybe paired with a decorative ashtray or a bottle of rye—this’ll do the job. The visual flair is there, and you’ll always know when it’s time for a refill. You’ll need to babysit the humidity and ignore the so-called “bonus” accessories, but for a living room, sure, it’s passable.

If you want anything close to real protection for your prized smokes—especially if you live for the outdoors, love travel, or don’t baby your stuff—move along. Invest in something battle-ready, with a real airtight seal and build quality that actually cares about your cigars.

In the end, the Scotte Acrylic Humidor is closer to a good-looking conversation piece than a hardworking piece of gear. Great for showing off. Not so great for soaking up adventure, bumpy rides, or Utah’s dry summers (or, heck, winters). Buy it for the shelf—not the campsite. If you demand dependability, do yourself a favor and pick up something that won’t make you nervous every time you hear thunder or drop your pack.