Wednesday, April 1st, 2015
Leather boots, wool socks, gaiters, trekking poles –
a hiker’s best friends.
I drove once, six hours in a snowstorm,
with a shoestring tied to my windshield wiper
so I could pull the wiper across the glass
to clear the snow. I was much younger then.
I’m no longer immortal.
I run my plastic money card
through the plastic money card reader
and bring home the first of my gear.
In my shoestring days
I’d have tried to climb this mountain
in my tennis shoes and cotton gym socks.
And who knows, perhaps I would have lived.
But my family and friends have doubts
about my sanity
so I am going “by the book”
and buying the recommended gear
despite that fact that in a small corner of my mind
hangs a picture of a stereotypical housewife
on a shopping spree
to distract from her depression.