Spice1
2005-08-12, 16:46
I don't really have a trail name. It seems, if you have a catchy enough name, like Spicer, you just get labeled with that. I've always been grateful to be spared the nicknames of some of my friends like Stinky Puppy, Lawn Dart and Gonzo, with everyone in every unit, job or city I live in, evetually just calling me spice, even though I try to avoid it, since I like my frist name just fine.
However, it seems in this last week's trip out to the Redwoods, I earned my name. The skeeters were thick enough to swallow, and given their interest in our food bag the option seemed apetizing at times. Rather than deal with them though, my girlfriend and I opted instead to dine out, hiking to remote points with the stove and food and eating diner far away from camp. It was great, but led to a food situation that could politely be called disorganized. One evening, in the rush to hang up the food sack and jump into the tent, I forgot a pepper conainer and a bag of granola in my coat pocket.
Upon finding the granolla, I also found the broken open pepper container and it's contents that were launched into a cloud in the tent by a bellows effects between the pocket and the baggy. The ensuing sneezing fits aroused the attention of every mosquito in a quarter mile, who were soon clouding the sky above our tent.
Irony will get you every time.
SpiceOne
However, it seems in this last week's trip out to the Redwoods, I earned my name. The skeeters were thick enough to swallow, and given their interest in our food bag the option seemed apetizing at times. Rather than deal with them though, my girlfriend and I opted instead to dine out, hiking to remote points with the stove and food and eating diner far away from camp. It was great, but led to a food situation that could politely be called disorganized. One evening, in the rush to hang up the food sack and jump into the tent, I forgot a pepper conainer and a bag of granola in my coat pocket.
Upon finding the granolla, I also found the broken open pepper container and it's contents that were launched into a cloud in the tent by a bellows effects between the pocket and the baggy. The ensuing sneezing fits aroused the attention of every mosquito in a quarter mile, who were soon clouding the sky above our tent.
Irony will get you every time.
SpiceOne