…Strangely, I think what I’m most pissed about is the fact I no longer have a week-long Long Trail hiking/camping buddy for this summer.
I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
The other evening, I did a barefoot hike up Deer’s Leap to watch the sun set. I didn’t see a single other soul until my way back down, when a porcupine (the first I’ve seen in my life,) and I stumbled upon each other 12 feet away as he was crossing the trail, and then I overtook a guy hiking the AT and was able to tell him he wasn’t that far from his night’s shelter.
It’s the little things.
Went barefoot hiking again today loaded up on a bowl sprinkled with a healthy dose of Vic so I could go beast on the trail. (See, this is what I mean— I consider my feet practical and serviceable, not as a sex symbol.) Was stopped twice to explain myself, first by a group from the FL Keys (THAT was hilarious— “Oh my god, where did you come from?! You’re hiking BAREFOOT?! You do it TWICE A WEEK?! Is this normal?! You’re a Vermonter, you say?!”) and then a bad-ass middle-aged woman who made a noise kind of like “PHWOAAAAARRRR!” when she saw I wasn’t wearing shoes and said, “You’re crazy!” with a metric shit-ton of admiration in her voice.
Yeah lady. I am crazy. And it’s fucking fantastic. I am lugging around about 10 pounds less than you are without hiking boots, fuck yeah.