Blog 67 Be Prepared: Gear Up (Gary)

I’ve got my Cool Max socks and shirt, my water bottle with Emergen-C, camera, stop watch, knife, Sting Kill, sun screen, note pad, pen, clip-on sunglasses, and lastly my special pack that Mark bought me that just holds my water bottle and a few of the items.  The rest go in my pockets.  It's funny because I am always critical of sports that require all kinds of special (especially brand name) gear.  Yet this is de-re-gore for me.  Here I am with all of my special shit.  I realize it is fun to carry all my equipment, and that each item has become almost sacred.  They work, and they can make a difference.  I despise the culture of wanting, yet I have perhaps played a part in what I most resent.  I want so I walk.  That does seem to be a part of it.  

            Is it okay to just “want” to be alive and live well?

            My great mystery is unraveling.  I am discovering things about myself in the walking and the writing.  I walk because I want something.  That rings true.  I know I crave the contact with Nature, and the energy I get in my body, but yet I continue to talk about what I want.  Maybe I am struggling with the conflict of wanting, and never having enough, like everyone else.  Hmmmmmm.  Could be true, doctor.  (Is the word really “want?”  How about “starved?”  My mother couldn’t even remember if I was breast fed or baptized.  Obviously I had no one to feed me everything we are starved for beyond food.)

            The weather dictates the changes in my gear, and I have a number of other items I add or subtract depending on climatic conditions.  And before I go out the door I check Air Now on the web to make sure the air quality is considered safe.  It's the shits to be on a good start to a hike and realize my lungs are heavy, burn, and I cough because I know I am getting something in my lungs that doesn't belong there.  The wood smoke rising from homes on the surrounding hills on cooler days can be debilitating and a nuisance.

            I grab my gear from upstairs and do a quick trot down to the door.  Neither of us wants to be chastised for being late.  Mark’s old BMW convertible pulls up shortly or he is waiting with his bandana on his head.  Oh, one of those things I forgot to mention.

            When did a bandana become cool?  Actually I think it looks pretty stupid (you will find our judgments throughout by the way).  Like you’re a fucking pirate or a Russian cleaning lady who is out to pick up a new broom or something.  I am sure some athlete started this, and now everyone has to follow, much like the backward baseball cap.  I know I only wear the bandana under my hat when it’s hot.  I soak it with cold water and slap it on my head.  It helps.  It has become another somewhat sacred tool, certainly on hot days.  (You fool, don’t you know you will be rejected and won’t be loved if you wear that?  Mom has a set of requirements for love.  Pay attention.)

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