We had partners for the hike that we shared a backpack with. I'm not talking the latest neon-green JanSport that I had bought for my inauguration into middle school. I'm talking one of those heavy-duty cross-country beasts. A backpack of myths...something I had only heard about but certainly had never seen before. Kristen, who has always been far more nature-inclined, offered to carry the backpack first so that I would take over at the half-way point. After 4.5 miles, the time had come.
I've decided that it's best to convey what happened next in cartoon-format.
(Forewarning: I also have a complicated relationship with "Paintbrush for Macs")
I tried not to be intimidated:
I fell face-first into the dirt and couldn't get up. I was being smothered by the backpack. This is it, I thought. This is how I'm going to die.
Instead, the counselor made Kristen carry the backpack the rest of the way, allowing my traumatized self to enjoy a breezy 9-mile hike.
Fast forward to the present. Now, I only camp during music festivals. And even then, I cheat. Refer to these loving portraits of me and my fan from our recent trip to Floydfest as proof:
|How I do camping|
|It's the only way to go|
While I've admitted to myself that camping isn't for me, I refuse to give up on hiking...but perhaps I should. A couple of weeks ago, I went hiking in Shenandoah National Park with my friends Patrick and Chad. The only thing funnier than going hiking when you suck at it is going hiking with people who are worse at it than you are. This is what Patrick looked like the entire time:
|Pretty much sums up Patrick's feelings about the hike|
When Chad asked one of us to carry the backpack, I promptly fled and hid behind a rock. I wasn't going there again. On the way back, we were all pouring sweat and fed up. The "gorgeous waterfall view" we were hiking to ended up being a tiny rock peeing way in the distance. Chad had a grand idea of taking a short-cut that he knew oh so well...even though he had never been on this hike in his life. Patrick and I were in the middle of smacking him (there was no way this was actually a short-cut) when we heard it.
A loud rustling in the trees. What could it be?!! It was getting closer. Was it a bear?! A wolf?! A crazed lumberjack?!
We grabbed onto each other for dear life.
Huddled on an edge of this dirt path looking like a downtrodden version of Dorothy, The Lion, and The Tin Man, we waited anxiously.
A deer came into view. It stopped to graze just before hopping onto the path about 10 feet from where we were standing.
Do deer hurt you??
They can!! If she has a baby around, she will attack us!!
I started pinching Chad on the arm. This is all your fault!
We shared some panicked glances with the deer before she sprinted off.
What actually happened?
|Peaceful deer stopping to graze right next to us, creating a gorgeous scene to end our hike.|
In light of this recent adventure, I think it's time to give up on my battle with nature. I never stood a chance.