This weekend I read (listened to) a hilarious book called A Walk in the Woods (thanks to my mom for the suggestion). I listened to most of it while walking through the woods just outside of where I live and was laughing loudly throughout the entire book with recognition of the hardships of backpacking. I am sure there were a few hikers around me wondering who the hell was disturbing their peace.
The book got me thinking a lot about why I hike. I think primarily it’s my place to be alone with my thoughts. I think too it’s a way to get my blood pumping and appreciate being alive. There’s another factor though that I think makes this book so entertaining. It’s the folly that often comes along with the outdoors.
That is why my hellish trip into the North Georgia Mountains got more attention than my other trips. It’s far more entertaining to see someone slip on a banana peel than watch them walk down a street without anything happening.
That’s why I appreciate the “bad” trips as much if not more than the good trips. You walk away with something you can laugh about. …as long as you survive it.
