- Won’t you take me to—HIKER TOWN
- Won’t you take me to—hiker town
- electric violins
I started singing the “Hiker Town” version of “Funky Town” a couple of days ago. I felt immense satisfaction when we walked into camp last night and heard Ivy singing it. My goal is to get Army Colonel Wolf singing on the trail. I feel his assimilation is inevitable. When I start singing in camp, he excuses himself to his tent, much like Good Chip Norris did last year on the AT and we all know how that ended with GCN becoming the fifth Temptation. Ivy complimented my singing voice saying it was ideal for showering and driving but the world wasn’t quite deserving of my voice, yet. She’s a good kid.
It was a cold and stormy night. The wind was howling. The rain was falling. Bunny was trembling (even with 50mg of Benadryl—note to self, up Bunny’s storm dosage). Easy was sleeping like a log. I love stormy weather, especially at night. My dad was almost as scared of storms as Bunny is. Whenever it stormed at night, he would wander from room to room checking on us kids to make sure we were alright. My brother, sister, and I all knew dad was watching over us so we learned to love storms. When my dad found this out, he freaked out because that wasn’t his goal. Too late. We don’t have the fear like a Bunny quivering in the corner of a tent ducking from approaching thunderbirds.
Wolf and Ivy decided they wanted to outrun the storm so they got up at 7. They packed up in the rain. When they said goodbye to us, Bunny and I were drinking coffee in our tent thinking we should start getting ready. By the time we got all packed up and ready to emerge from the tent, we had blue sky overhead. Not only does the early bird get the worm, it gets rained on, too. Who the hell likes wet worms for breakfast?
It was an easy 9 mile walk, mostly downhill to 🎶 hiker town 🎶. Knowing that I have porcelain availability within 6 hours, I can usually wait. My elderly wife does not have the same, superior, bowel control that I have. Stop #1 (or should that be #2) on the trail. Per chance, if she would stop telling me I have a pea sized bladder which is why I get up a couple of times per night, I might stop mentioning her lack of bowel control.
Some people (Bunny), say I spend too much time discussing bodily functions in the blog. I should focus more on bunny rabbits, unicorns, and rainbows. Paint a happy picture of trail life. Truth of the matter is, trail life is just a repetition of four things: walking, eating, sleeping, and pooping. All four of which are about equal in importance. Although, I put eating and pooping in the tier one strata of trail life. A good meal and solid feces surpass about all else in nature (and until I have that solid one on the trail, I’m not going to let it go—deal with it Bunny. We’re married. You got suckered. No takebacks.)
We arrived at 🎶 Hiker Town 🎶 just as Wolf and Ivy were getting ready to head into “town” for some lunch and to resupply. They had already showered and we’re doing laundry which explained why we didn’t recognize the duds they were wearing. Bob was going to drive them in, but he just loaned us the BMW so the four of us could go as we please. Since it’s a stick shift and I have my drivers license with me, I got to drive. We just dropped our packs in our room and will deal with getting clean later.
There is not much choice in the middle of a desert for resupply or eating. Since we had a set of wheels, we decided to splurge and hit the high class place 8 miles away for lunch and save the townie spot only 4 miles away for supper. I’m not sure if it’s lack of competition or California’s higher cost of living or hiker price gouging, but Bunny and I spent $90 for about $25 worth of junk to get us through the next 50 miles of desert and to a bigger city for a zero day.
Bunny has a terrible memory at times and she cannot remember the name of the town we’re headed to. I created a riddle for her which seems to be working. Why did the chicken sit on the pod? To hatch a pea (Tehachapi). Only now, she recites the riddle, and answer, whenever she tries to name the place.
EFG