13 Best CompactFlash Memory Cards

List Updated July 2020

Bestselling CompactFlash Memory Cards in 2020


Sandisk Extreme CompactFlash Memory Card - 64 GB (SDCFXS-064G-A46)

Sandisk Extreme CompactFlash Memory Card - 64 GB (SDCFXS-064G-A46)
BESTSELLER NO. 1 in 2020
  • Read speed up to 120MB/s
  • Write speed up to 85MB/s (32gb-128gb only)
  • Video performance guarantee (VPG-20) for full HD video recording
  • Capacities up to 128GB
  • Extreme performance to take full control of advanced Camera Features

SanDisk Ultra 16GB Compact Flash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-016G-AFFP (Label May Change)

SanDisk Ultra 16GB Compact Flash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-016G-AFFP (Label May Change)
BESTSELLER NO. 2 in 2020
  • Speeds up to 50MB/s for ultra performance, fast write speeds to reduce lag time between shots
  • Ideal combination of reliability, value, and ultra performance
  • Great for entry to mid range DSLRs, supports full HD video recording
  • Reliability from the brand trusted by pros
  • Compatible with CompactFlash supporting host devices, Card dimension 1.7 x 1.4 x 0.13 inches (43 mm x 36 mm x 3.3 mm)

SanDisk Ultra 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-032G-AFFP

SanDisk Ultra 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-032G-AFFP
BESTSELLER NO. 3 in 2020
  • Speeds up to 50MB/s for ultra performance
  • Ideal combination of reliability, value, and ultra performance
  • Great for entry to mid range DSLRs
  • Reliability from the brand trusted by pros
  • Fast write speeds to reduce lag time between shots
  • Supports Full HD video recording

SanDisk Extreme PRO 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-032G-X46

SanDisk Extreme PRO 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-032G-X46
BESTSELLER NO. 4 in 2020
  • You can be confident in the good quality, performance and reliability of every SanDisk Product
  • Unique, sleek design for the modern home
  • With these speeds you can be sure that every transfer or save will end faster than ever before
  • Compatible with compact flash supporting host devices

SanDisk Extreme PRO 64GB Compact Flash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-064G-X46 (Label May Change)

SanDisk Extreme PRO 64GB Compact Flash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-064G-X46 (Label May Change)
BESTSELLER NO. 5 in 2020
  • You can be confident in the good quality, performance and reliability of every SanDisk Product
  • Unique, sleek design for the modern home
  • With these speeds you can be sure that every transfer or save will end faster than ever before

SanDisk Extreme SDCFXSB-032G-G46 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card

SanDisk Extreme SDCFXSB-032G-G46 32GB CompactFlash Memory Card
BESTSELLER NO. 6 in 2020
  • Exceptional Shot to Shot Performance - Read speeds of up to 120MB/s and write speeds of up to 85MB/s
  • Professional-Grade Video Capture - VPG-20 ensures sustained data recording rate of 20MB/s for a smooth and unbroken video stream
  • Durable Design - Backed by rigorous stress, shock, and vibration testing and includes RTV silicone coating for protection against shock and vibration
  • Warranty - Backed by a lifetime limited warranty

SanDisk Ultra 8GB CompactFlash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s- SDCFHS-008G-G46

SanDisk Ultra 8GB CompactFlash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s- SDCFHS-008G-G46
BESTSELLER NO. 7 in 2020
  • Speeds up to 50MB/s for ultra performance
  • Ideal combination of reliability, value, and ultra performance
  • Great for entry to mid range DSLRs
  • Reliability from the brand trusted by pros
  • Fast write speeds to reduce lag time between shots
  • Supports Full HD video recording

Verbatim 2GB CompactFlash Memory Card

Verbatim 2GB CompactFlash Memory Card
BESTSELLER NO. 8 in 2020
  • Compatible with all major operating systems including DOS/WINDOWS 98/ME/2000/NT/CE, Mac OS, Epoc (PSION), and Linux
  • Fully erasable
  • High Performance Controller for demanding applications
  • Rugged - withstands up to 2000 G's operating shock
  • Low Power Consumption - extends battery life
  • Verbatim Lifetime Warranty

USB SD Card Reader, Unitek USB 3.0 Memory Card Reader Writer Compact Flash Card Adapter for CF/SD/TF Micro SD/Micro SDHC/MD/MMC/SDHC/SDXC UHS-I Card for Windows, Mac - Aluminum [Upgrade Version]

USB SD Card Reader, Unitek USB 3.0 Memory Card Reader Writer Compact Flash Card Adapter for CF/SD/TF Micro SD/Micro SDHC/MD/MMC/SDHC/SDXC UHS-I Card for Windows, Mac - Aluminum [Upgrade Version]
BESTSELLER NO. 9 in 2020

SanDisk Extreme PRO 128GB CompactFlash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-128G-X46

SanDisk Extreme PRO 128GB CompactFlash Memory Card UDMA 7 Speed Up To 160MB/s- SDCFXPS-128G-X46
BESTSELLER NO. 10 in 2020
  • You can be confident in the good quality, performance and reliability of every SanDisk Product
  • Unique, sleek design for the modern home
  • With these speeds you can be sure that every transfer or save will end faster than ever before
  • Compatible with CompactFlash supporting host devices. Dimension-1.7 x 1.4 x 0.13 inches

SanDisk Extreme 128GB CompactFlash Memory Card (SDCFXSB-128G-G46)

SanDisk Extreme 128GB CompactFlash Memory Card (SDCFXSB-128G-G46)
BESTSELLER NO. 11 in 2020
  • Exceptional Shot to Shot Performance - Read speeds of up to 120MB/s and write speeds of up to 85MB/s
  • Professional-Grade Video Capture - VPG-20 ensures sustained data recording rate of 20MB/s for a smooth and unbroken video stream
  • Durable Design - Backed by rigorous stress, shock, and vibration testing and includes RTV silicone coating for protection against shock and vibration
  • Warranty - Backed by a lifetime limited warranty

SanDisk Ultra 8GB Compact Flash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-008G-AFFP (Label May Change)

SanDisk Ultra 8GB Compact Flash Memory Card Speed Up To 50MB/s, Frustration-Free Packaging- SDCFHS-008G-AFFP (Label May Change)
BESTSELLER NO. 12 in 2020
  • Speeds up to 50MB/s for ultra performance
  • Ideal combination of reliability, value, and ultra performance
  • Great for entry to mid range DSLRs
  • Reliability from the brand trusted by pros
  • Fast write speeds to reduce lag time between shots
  • Supports Full HD video recording

SanDisk Extreme 64GB CompactFlash Memory Card (SDCFXSB-064G-G46)

SanDisk Extreme 64GB CompactFlash Memory Card (SDCFXSB-064G-G46)
BESTSELLER NO. 13 in 2020
  • Exceptional Shot to Shot Performance - Read speeds of up to 120MB/s and write speeds of up to 85MB/s
  • Professional-Grade Video Capture - VPG-20 ensures sustained data recording rate of 20MB/s for a smooth and unbroken video stream
  • Durable Design - Backed by rigorous stress, shock, and vibration testing and includes RTV silicone coating for protection against shock and vibration
  • lifetime limited warranty

Two Days Gone – Part III

Locked in the foul darkness of a seaport storage container, detective Rich Maroon must battle paranoia and a pair of romantic rats. His thoughts soon drift towards the mystery of two memory cards from a previous investigation.

Previously on Two Days Gone, check out: "Part I" and "Part II."

Angelina's naked curves dance about Rich's hairy chest with a forgotten warm bond. The tips of her hair tickle the bruises on his side as she laughs at the worst of his jokes. Nothing about the bed they enjoy or the surrounding room seems less than ideal.

Perfection needs no excuse as far as the detective is concerned.

"This is what is meant to be," her words transcend his mind.

A calloused finger graces her cheek, feeling nothing but cold shame.

Mrs. Johnson's rigid face, blanketed under a thick silk collar stained with thin dabs of imported lipstick, forces a rebuke, "but I do not come so easy."

Even within complete darkness, Rich can detect dreams from reality. He chooses consciousness over torture and wakes into a hot morning.

"Her areolas are slightly too large," bitterness shocks him fully awake, "yes, that is a flaw I can rely upon."

Sharp tickles about his right leg causes an impulsive kick, sending two rats across the storage container's grimy floor, "foul beasts."

A hollow clank and the cool sensation of thin glass meet Rich's naked ankle. He reaches down over his legs and finds a thin metal wire cresting over the glass, undoubtedly the handle of some discarded object. The tips of his fingers slide down the handle, over the glass and across a thick metal base before finding the ridges of a circular dial.

"Was this left here for me," Rich's concentration begins to solidify along with a moldy fruit odor resembling the markets near his downtown office, "and why?"

A turn of the dial sends a whistling echo through the glass interior, "too bad I never carry matches."

Rich yells obscenities towards the scampering rats and formulates a plan. He removes a rectangular battery from his smart phone and digs his index fingernail underneath its plastic shock guard. The protective coating peels away from the battery's interior with surprising ease, exposing a metal tip that is intended to make contact with a recharge unit. The battery slides perfectly into a circular hole below the object's dial, with the tip jolting outward like a rigid diving board.

"Hope this thing does not blow up on me," Rich turns the object sideways and takes the plunge.

He holds his breath and grinds the battery's tip evenly across a set of ridged humps rising across the storage container's floor. Precipitation grows thick about the container, subduing the intended reaction. Several more grinds dries grease from the batteries' surface and warms the exposed tip. After nearly two dozen attempts, sparks suddenly fly about Rich's loafers before tumbling upward. A cluster of orange fluttering embers surround the battery and cascade inside the glass.

A camping lantern illuminates brightly with a hot snap, revealing the interior of the detective's metal prison. He immediately yanks the battery free and cranks the dial counterclockwise. Conserving an unknown amount of fuel seems to be an appropriate priority. To his surprise, the big reveal is merely a rusty container completely empty of port cargo.

"This is no accident, modifications have been made for human storage," thick rising seams of recent patchwork welding reveal a devious intent, "someone wants me out of the way but not dead."

Rich inspects a group of air holes punched into the base of the container, allowing fresh oxygen yet zero light to pass inside. Leaning next to the holes are a transistor radio and the faint brown corners of a sandwich wrapped thick in plastic. Teasing the detective from a lean against the radio is a full box of dry matches.

"So glad I risked a fiery explosion for nothing," carelessness is discovered and tempered.

The sandwich is pounced upon and unwrapped, bringing a pair of rats from a curled embrace below the sealed door, "Oh no, I am the guy who eats in the park and never feeds the flying rats. I am not about to start now with land ones."

A sweet metallic odor sends his fists into the air with pumping disgust, "I am allergic to tuna fish, Damn Youuuuuuuuuu."

"Plop," the sandwich is hurled against the door to the delight of a ravenous furry couple.

Rich forces his mind to focus, "Why would Mrs. Johnson want Hillenbrand's memory cards? Did Sasha not tell her they were empty? And Frank the Rat, all but exposed as Mayor Johnson by now, is the only one with copies of the information."

"This could mean that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson are not truly reconciled, but what does that tell me about Hillenbrand's investigation," thoughts tumble loose about a weary mind.

He fiddles with the transistor radio, "How could that damn woman be free? Wait now, what if she is not. Angelina was on the docks, not the mayor's dear wife. Is it possible for Mrs. Johnson's alternative identity to be free while she physically remains in a holding cell? Perhaps the county lockup refused to cooperate with the F.B.I. and Hillenbrand was unable to keep her under surveillance."

"After all, police and federal partnerships dissolve all the time over jurisdiction issues," weak fuzz crackles from each station across the F.M. band, "There must be a connection here that I am missing."

Faint Spanish rails on with incredible speed below the static of the radio's A.M. band.

Rich isolates it with a few adjustments of a metal antenna and cranks up the volume, "… si, señor Rodriguez es…fuzzzzz…pero mas influencia con Universidad de Los…phhhhhh."

"Damn," the signal fades in an out along with the detective's recollection of Spanish.

He struggles with the radio's dial and antenna until a few words of English emerge, "…tu' es listening to the Pedro Loco's pirated analog signature. We disavow any connection with the digital productions of the fraudulent F.M. radio personality Pedro Loco. Be not fooled, he is a tool of the establishment. And now you will hear the truth."

"Pedro Loco is fraudulent," Rich projects his ignorance, "no wonder the mayor listens to him and that awful brand of broken Spanish."

"Gwen and I must be the only two people in this city without split personality disorder," a sweet stank raising from the container's floor kills his hunger.

Long breaks of silence indicate patchwork organization behind the pirated A.M. signal, "And we are back with the gringo portion of the show. Yes my friends, English is important as well."

"Finally some unfiltered information," Rich yearns for his favorite food.

"Can we talk a bit about those who run this citadel? Walls are often built about us. They are invisible at first, but erect high when it serves the powers at be. Such walls are neither scalable nor visible to others. We all have our own cells..."

The reception fizzles away, "Almost feels like the disk jockey was talking directly to me. I wonder if whoever sealed me in this container knew what stations I could listen to. Is the purpose of this radio entertainment or brainwashing?"

Rich reaches across his back and discovers the absence of Daisy. He soon realizes that even a full round of shots would fail to breach the steel plating across the container's door. His chest heaves forward and regresses easy with frustration and disappointment as he takes a calm lean against the rear wall. Isolation under the dim reassurance of a camping lantern becomes a bit soothing.

Sweat builds about the cervices of his neck and arms, bringing memories of the club's sauna, "Damn, if I had just asked to join Dan's poker night the entire group would know I was in trouble by now."

He finds a smile for the first time in nearly two days, "More for my three figure gambling debt than my company, but they would try to find me none the less."

"Screech" the container's door swings open with a crack of blinding amber sunlight.

A plastic bag is tossed against Rich's chest as he lunges forward towards the door.

It seals shut with a deafening "Bam," followed by a round of clanking echoes.

Two chapped hands and a dripping forehead slam against the inside of door.

Rich presses an ear against the wall until the clanks recede into silence, "Damn you. Let me out now."

Angry fists pound against the thick metal walls until they swell pink. After a few minutes of ferocity, Rich backs into the center of the container and retrieves the item that had been hastily flung into the container. He discovers another sandwich wrapped into the folds of a nondescript note.

A frustratingly familiar fishy scent condemns the sandwich to the far corner, where it comes to a rest completely unmolested.

"At least my rat friends escaped," Rich unfolds the note while licking a drip mayonnaise from the side of his thumb.

He bends to a crouch beside the lantern to read, "I had intended to let you out, but things do happen and my plans have changed. Sorry my friend, I am sure you understand."

"That is the most backhanded piece of crap I have ever read," the typed note is torn to bits.

A soggy patch of leaves piled in the corner sooths his throbbing skull. Memories of a federal office, where physical and emotional fatigue left the detective purposely detached from all violence of the city, are mulled. His attention used to be glued to a desk clock that dictated the pace of life, yet now the numbers displayed on his watch seem completely arbitrary. Listening to the filtered broken patterns of distant seagull calls define the time with newfound meaning and grace. They ramble onward, harsh and brief at day and high pitched with soothing length at night, crisp then soft as the foliage's stipulation beneath his brow.

"My thirty days in lockup never felt this bad," consciousness flickers with the lantern, "wonder why?"

Suddenly at midnight when the gulls are silent, the answer surfaces, "Below downtown, I was never truly alone. Out here, I am hopelessly isolated from my downtown people… my element."

A mild fizzing noise from the center of the container awakens him with crisp determination. Rich bolts forward and cranks the lantern's dial to full illumination. A faint rumbling sound jolts upward from between his loafers. Although adjusted to full volume, a nearly inaudible trail of speech comes forth from the transistor radio.

Shattered English builds into a legible stream of desperately desired information, "And what does the dear Mayor dine upon while we suffer stale beans and hard rice…"

Rich bends into a crouch to listen, "…duck."

"Thud, bam, thud, bam," four holes are ripped through the container's wall just above his head.

A soft clicking sound announces a fresh clip of bullets, "Damn, now I am the duck."

Thundering shots puncture a nearly perfect parallel line across the container's side, sending Rich flat across the floor. Another click is followed by a round of nearly three dozen shots, yet none trail below the line of the initial four.

"Now you a done," shouts a thick masculine voice above an ominous third click.

Bullet holes begin to trail downward, forcing Rich to a huddle against the container's door, "Damn, must be a high powered automatic rifle."

A thin beam of light shines through a single bullet hole, replacing the lantern's purpose just as it is shot to pieces. No tears are shed as the tuna fish sandwich is transformed to cold Swiss cheese. Leafs are kicked into the air and shattered to crisp bits by another set of booming shots. Just before the final round of bullets reach the door, the squeal of approaching sirens quiets all gunfire.

Rich's heart nearly comes forth from his mouth, "I have never been so glad to hear the Port Authority."

Slamming doors and screeching tires invite him towards the bullet hole radiating light. Closing one eye and pressing another against the jagged circle of torn rusty metal grants a view of a brown truck speeding away from the base of a splintered light pole. Three sedans suddenly speed by with whirling lights in an attempt to engage a pursuit. None of the officers, however, care to stop and inspect the bullet ridden container.

"Oh, so I am just target practice then," Rich's blood boils with misguided rage, "so much for my newfound trust in the law."

He refuses to sleep for the remainder of the night.

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