Saturday, March 6, 2010

Staggering Into The Wilderness

He left this morning, laden with enough gear to supply a trip to the summit of Everest. Snowshoes, crampons, a camera with case slung around his neck, 20lbs of toys and goodies in his backpack, the coat, the gloves, the gps and cellphone, a tripod and telephoto lens in special case, special snow walking sticks...

He's a happy happy man. Go forth, my dear, and conquer something.


  1. The going forth is, itself, a conquering. Good for him.

  2. A friend who has just turned 80 (with the kind of wisdom I know enough to listen to) is also a hiker. His wife doesnt enjoy it any more than I do, so they do go to the mountains together, she takes the car to go shopping and he hikes.

    And, he said, when they meet up in the parking lot, they both have different stories to tell each other, instead of a shared one.

    It seems a most civilized way to compromise.

    He had a wonderful time. So did I.

  3. Sounds like a man that knows how to live.

  4. anything that gets him moving (its been years since he went hiking) has my blessing on it, and at least he's being careful. We don't bounce the way we used to, although muscle memory has a lot to do with it.

  5. When I get out in the woods I trip over stuff and fall down a lot. That worries my grand daughter. I guess that is why she always goes with me. Balance isn't what it used to be. I love hiking in the woods so much. Its worth the risk of maybe a broken bone.

  6. I use a stout stick, suitable for removing dead brances at a single blow, defeating all but the most determined crazed squirrel, and for getting me down the slopes without losing grace, and back up without losing my balance on the slopey parts.
    My balance (nor my vision on one side) isnt what it used to be either, which is why I hike alone, in familiar woods, and stay off of mountain trails.