Ponies, optical illusions, and my friends beanie
Ok. It's 10 below outside, blizzard conditions; Nolan and I are in a tent, near the summit of Mt. Rogers, and I'm sound asleep. My Mountain Hardware bag was just too hot to zip up and be comfortable, so I left it open with only half of my boxer-clad body inside. Then, there's Nolan. Something made him think that his 40 degree synthetic bag would be plenty warm enough for February in Virginia at 8000 feet. "Hey bra... hey wake up!" Nolan said shaking my shoulder. As I gained consciousness, I opened my eyes to see Nolan wearing every single stitch of clothing he brought with him. Gloves, beanie, socks, Gore-TEX, and that wimpy bag he brought. "Dude, will you share your sleeping bag with me? I'm freezing my ass off," Nolan asked sheepishly. Now I know it was hard for the guy. If you knew him, you'd understand. He's not the type who could comfortably share a sleeping bag with another man. But I felt his pain, so I opened up my bag, threw it over the both of us, and went back to sleep. Not for long though.
You see, when it's that cold outside and you're backpacking, you have one of three options when nature calls from the tent. First option: Piss in a bottle. Probably the easiest and smartest idea, but for this to be a viable option, you have to have a square bottle. Why you ask? So that in the middle of the night when you get thirsty, you can tell the water bottle from the pisser with your hands. Swigging from the piss bottle is bad, umm-kay. Option two: Put on all of your fucking clothes, boots included, and wander out into the woods to piss. Getting dressed in layers and putting on hiking boots, in a tent, is a painstakingly tedious task that turns a one minute pee, into a 20 minute ordeal. It sucks. Option three: Don't put on any clothes, unzip the door, stand up, and go. Due to the convenient shape of today's tents, you can stand with your feet inside, and your torso outside. You just have to be able to bear the cold for as long as you're peeing. Ahhhh.
Anyway, back to Mt. Rogers... We had been using Option 3 for two days due to the fact that we were lacking in the square bottle department. Well, not long after Nolan woke me up to share some heat, I was awakened again by what sounded like and acoustic bass string being plucked. Once I shook the cobwebs from my head, I realized the tent was under attack by Highland Ponies, and that bass sound was them tripping over the guy lines. Those damned ponies were falling all over the tent, landing on us, and I swear to God they were trying to dig a hole right at the front entrance. Clop, clop, clop, clop... over and over and over again. "It's fucking three o'clock in the morning! For the love of God, what is going on?!!" I yelled irritably. This went of for at least another hour before I couldn't take it anymore. So I began getting dressed. A half-hour later, I actually made it out of the tent, grabbed a trekking pole, and began chasing Highland Ponies all around the campsite. They were mocking me, the smug little bastards. They would run just fast enough that I could not catch them, but they wouldn't leave the campsite. I was chasing them around trees, rocks, the tent... they were content to go around in circles until I was worn out. And it worked. After a while, I was just too tired to chase the small horses. As I was leaning against the tree in the middle of camp catching my breath, I began to look around and notice that the ponies were digging through the snow in multiple spots, not just at the front of my tent. Son of a... spots where we had gone to PISS!! It was a startling revelation. It was all making sense now. The ponies were looking for salt, so any place where we had taken a leak had an unusually high concentration under the snow. Turns out, Option 3 is not a good idea when there are Highland Ponies around.
By this time, it's nearly 5 am. Nolan and I were up, so we decided to hike to the top of the mountain and watch the sunrise. We made our way up the snow covered trail in the dark until we reached a small rock outcropping near the summit. It was from this spot that we realized as the sky was just getting light that there was another peak right in our line of sight. After a quick survey, we decide (in near darkness) that we would make the hike to that peak to watch the sunrise. After all, it only looked like a 15 minute walk over there. A half-an-hour later, we were almost to the bottom of the valley that separated the two mountains. The snow had to be at least 3 feet deep down there and it was turning out to be a bad idea all the way around. The 15 minute hike was really 3 miles through some nasty snow drifts, but we were determined, after all that we had been through, to be at the top to see the sunrise. It was like Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. It was hard work, but we made it just in time... and it was worth it, but we weren't up there long because I could feel a growler brewing and I had no toilet paper. Gotta hold it until I can get back to camp, I thought to myself. Negative.
On the way back, I just couldn't hold it any more. "I gotta shit man," I said urgently. "What are you going to wipe with?" Nolan asked. "A rock I guess," seeing as how there were no leaves anywhere. So I hobbled around a large boulder, dropped trou, and squeezed out a steamer. As I was hunched over, I chiseled a rock that looked like an old Indian spear head out of the ice with my knife. Now, I really thought that the rock thing was going to work, but I was screaming when I ran that sharp, frozen rock across my ass crack. Yeah. That was a brilliant idea, I thought as I contemplated my next move. Just then, Nolan's hat came flying over the boulder. "Wipe your ass with that," he said. I guess he was making up for me sharing my bag when he was freezing in the tent. So I did... and it was nice. When I was through, I turned the hat inside out and came back around the rock as I was stuffing it in my jacket pocket. "What the hell are you going to do with that?" Nolan asked. "I'm going to wash it and give it back to you," I answered irritably (what did he think I was going to do with it, keep it as a souvenir?). "I'm NEVER going to put that fucking thing back on my head!!" he yelled. Good point. So I carried it back to the scene of the crime, and used it to cover up the evidence.
Overall, it was a great trip. You gotta feel for the other guys that were out with us though. They were staying in a tepee during the blizzard. Yikes. It had no floor, and the walls started about 6 inches from the ground. Nolan and I went over to check on them after we got back from our early excursion, and they were both sleeping completely buried in snow. It must have been a foot deep inside the tepee. Yeah, they were miserable. Oh, and I forgot to mention the troop of Boy Scouts and their brainless leader who nearly froze to death on the mountain the next night. They were in bad shape when we got there, but we gave them dry clothes, food, and water until rescue arrived. Hey, we're heros. What can we say?
Peace.
You see, when it's that cold outside and you're backpacking, you have one of three options when nature calls from the tent. First option: Piss in a bottle. Probably the easiest and smartest idea, but for this to be a viable option, you have to have a square bottle. Why you ask? So that in the middle of the night when you get thirsty, you can tell the water bottle from the pisser with your hands. Swigging from the piss bottle is bad, umm-kay. Option two: Put on all of your fucking clothes, boots included, and wander out into the woods to piss. Getting dressed in layers and putting on hiking boots, in a tent, is a painstakingly tedious task that turns a one minute pee, into a 20 minute ordeal. It sucks. Option three: Don't put on any clothes, unzip the door, stand up, and go. Due to the convenient shape of today's tents, you can stand with your feet inside, and your torso outside. You just have to be able to bear the cold for as long as you're peeing. Ahhhh.
Anyway, back to Mt. Rogers... We had been using Option 3 for two days due to the fact that we were lacking in the square bottle department. Well, not long after Nolan woke me up to share some heat, I was awakened again by what sounded like and acoustic bass string being plucked. Once I shook the cobwebs from my head, I realized the tent was under attack by Highland Ponies, and that bass sound was them tripping over the guy lines. Those damned ponies were falling all over the tent, landing on us, and I swear to God they were trying to dig a hole right at the front entrance. Clop, clop, clop, clop... over and over and over again. "It's fucking three o'clock in the morning! For the love of God, what is going on?!!" I yelled irritably. This went of for at least another hour before I couldn't take it anymore. So I began getting dressed. A half-hour later, I actually made it out of the tent, grabbed a trekking pole, and began chasing Highland Ponies all around the campsite. They were mocking me, the smug little bastards. They would run just fast enough that I could not catch them, but they wouldn't leave the campsite. I was chasing them around trees, rocks, the tent... they were content to go around in circles until I was worn out. And it worked. After a while, I was just too tired to chase the small horses. As I was leaning against the tree in the middle of camp catching my breath, I began to look around and notice that the ponies were digging through the snow in multiple spots, not just at the front of my tent. Son of a... spots where we had gone to PISS!! It was a startling revelation. It was all making sense now. The ponies were looking for salt, so any place where we had taken a leak had an unusually high concentration under the snow. Turns out, Option 3 is not a good idea when there are Highland Ponies around.
By this time, it's nearly 5 am. Nolan and I were up, so we decided to hike to the top of the mountain and watch the sunrise. We made our way up the snow covered trail in the dark until we reached a small rock outcropping near the summit. It was from this spot that we realized as the sky was just getting light that there was another peak right in our line of sight. After a quick survey, we decide (in near darkness) that we would make the hike to that peak to watch the sunrise. After all, it only looked like a 15 minute walk over there. A half-an-hour later, we were almost to the bottom of the valley that separated the two mountains. The snow had to be at least 3 feet deep down there and it was turning out to be a bad idea all the way around. The 15 minute hike was really 3 miles through some nasty snow drifts, but we were determined, after all that we had been through, to be at the top to see the sunrise. It was like Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. It was hard work, but we made it just in time... and it was worth it, but we weren't up there long because I could feel a growler brewing and I had no toilet paper. Gotta hold it until I can get back to camp, I thought to myself. Negative.
On the way back, I just couldn't hold it any more. "I gotta shit man," I said urgently. "What are you going to wipe with?" Nolan asked. "A rock I guess," seeing as how there were no leaves anywhere. So I hobbled around a large boulder, dropped trou, and squeezed out a steamer. As I was hunched over, I chiseled a rock that looked like an old Indian spear head out of the ice with my knife. Now, I really thought that the rock thing was going to work, but I was screaming when I ran that sharp, frozen rock across my ass crack. Yeah. That was a brilliant idea, I thought as I contemplated my next move. Just then, Nolan's hat came flying over the boulder. "Wipe your ass with that," he said. I guess he was making up for me sharing my bag when he was freezing in the tent. So I did... and it was nice. When I was through, I turned the hat inside out and came back around the rock as I was stuffing it in my jacket pocket. "What the hell are you going to do with that?" Nolan asked. "I'm going to wash it and give it back to you," I answered irritably (what did he think I was going to do with it, keep it as a souvenir?). "I'm NEVER going to put that fucking thing back on my head!!" he yelled. Good point. So I carried it back to the scene of the crime, and used it to cover up the evidence.
Overall, it was a great trip. You gotta feel for the other guys that were out with us though. They were staying in a tepee during the blizzard. Yikes. It had no floor, and the walls started about 6 inches from the ground. Nolan and I went over to check on them after we got back from our early excursion, and they were both sleeping completely buried in snow. It must have been a foot deep inside the tepee. Yeah, they were miserable. Oh, and I forgot to mention the troop of Boy Scouts and their brainless leader who nearly froze to death on the mountain the next night. They were in bad shape when we got there, but we gave them dry clothes, food, and water until rescue arrived. Hey, we're heros. What can we say?
Peace.
Laid down by AT - 2:55 PM
1 Comments:
AT: It is time for How 'Bout Them Apples III. You need to tell the story about the trip to Boone where we ran into that chick from Rafters at the bead shop a year after the incident. "Why don't you try again the next time you're in town".
McLusky
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