Originally Posted by
Game Warden
The rain came down and down. The trail became a creek, and I hopped and hobbled along the huckleberries and mountain laurel that bordered the submerged path, until I realized I would get just as wet wading through the shin-deep waters, which I did. Then I saw a hunting camp with a covered porch, and decided it was lunchtime, despite being 10:30 AM. As my pot boiled, I discovered that God had left a large bath towel on the porch of this hunting camp, along with a bottle of dog shampoo. I stripped down, toweled off with the bath towel, and picked long tan hairs off me (Lab retriever?) Anyone driving down the nearby road would have had an unforgettable glimpse of my bare middle-aged ass. An hour later, dry and fed, I shouldered my pack and walked off into the dripping woods. And that is the Zen of backpacking.