|We'll probably take the yellow alternate.|
Does anyone else panic pack? I am a victim of this practice. I also email Flash repeatedly since her husband works for the TSA. "Ask D!!!" I type, with many exclamation points. "Trekking poles on a plane? Tent poles on a plane? Stakes on a plane?!!!!"
Which brings me to the ritual weighing of the backpack. I stand on the scale, look at my weight, hope that this hike will take off a few pounds, and then try on the pack. Only I can't do that this time because I've sent all the stuff I mentioned away. It's probably better to remain in blissful ignorance, right?
Other rituals? Obsessively check weather. Rain pants in, rain pants out. Ballcap in, sun hat? Dorkiness or sun protection? Clean the house in the fruitless hope it will remain so. Spend a lot of time with the kitties. Briefly ponder if you could hike the trail with a cat. Write a lot on the new book. Work many, many hours to make up for the time I will be gone. Eat a lot, because you will lose weight. Right?
Then I realize: this is not a trip to the Sahara. It's just a backpacking trip. It will all be okay, even if I forget a spoon and have to carve one, even if it's too icy to tackle Fuller Ridge and we have to roadwalk, even if it's hot/cold/windy. I can handle all those things. Let the adventure begin (well, in seven days that is).
Do you have trip rituals? Have you ever forgotten a spoon? What's the most important thing you have forgotten? (If you read this blog you know my list is long, and includes a rainfly during a thunderstorm, a crucial tent pole, the camp stove, a sleeping pad and a sleeping bag).