It turns out that this is a terrible idea.
Which I’m sure 99% of human persons can tell you without having to do it. A friend of mine had a party a few weeks back, and, like you do at parties, I consumed what I’m going to call an ordinate amount of refreshing adult beverages. Drinking games were played, fun was had, and I think I wound up calling it a night around 3? Maybe 2? I don’t remember. It’s not important. Well, it’s relevant, but the cogent data is that it was really god damn late or really god damn early, depending on how you choose to measure time along your axis of reality.
We go hiking at 7am.
Seven. Aye. Em.
So you can probably guess, it was a rough morning. I mean, it was gorgeous – sunny, warm, slight breeze, and we were all in pretty good spirits. I mean, I’d been in some pretty good spirits the previous evening – do ya–djya get it? ‘Cause spirits means…whateverman, I’m not here to entertain y– oh. Right.
I was pretty hungover. I’m not much of a puker 95% of the time when it comes to drinking. I’ve only ever done it once, in point of fact, but I had never wanted to puke more than I did that morning. Will selected, for us, another section of the Appalachian trail, this time out toward Marysville. The first part of it had us walking through a field that had a very distinctly rural vibe, with the tree line a good hundred yards away through a meandering sea of tall, tall grass. The path was staked and marked, as most trails are, so it wasn’t difficult to find our way, and the trail is used often enough that it’s not like we were pushing through fronds of grass or whatever they’re called. It did have a very “if I take one step further, it’ll be as far from home as I’ve ever been” feel to it, which was a nice way to start the day.
That is in the midst of trying to trudge up a hill with a belly full of beer.
Still, it’s pretty invigorating. By the time we made it up to the views – which were nice, all things considered – I felt like I’d sweat and grunted most of it out of my system. It was a seven hour walk that day, and the view included at least one truly agitated animal that hissed at Zach and Will when they got too close to wherever it was lurking. We scoped out a couple more campsites for this mythical overnight trip we are eventually going to take, and Zach continued his tradition of pooping in the woods. If memory serves. That’s IBS for you – always coming out at a crappy time.
No recollections from this week’s hike, because we didn’t take one. We were down exactly 1 Will Butari, and we leave no man behind. Prometheus is in the bag, which I will talk about on Thursday, as is my wont. FNtCG resumes tomorrow, as promised, even if Long Walk was a day late and some denomination of money lacking.
We’re fast approaching the point where we will have exhausted our options for quality trails in the local area. I enjoy it enough that I’d really like to head further into more mountainous territory, as Peter’s Mountain is still our favorite. Despite the fact that I threw up a donut there. Yeah, donut frosting, that I will spew. Beer? Nope, apparently that is too sacred to my system to give up on. At some point, I’ll plan a vacation around hiking, which would be awesome. Somewhere out west. But I’m not gonna hump it out there or anything – I’m not that guy.
Well, neither is he, technically. But maybe someday. That is a very long walk.