Steep

I slept on Mount San Gorgonio last weekend. Here’s how it happened:

Eric:  Want to go camping?

Me:   Will there be bathrooms?

Eric:  Not exactly.

I’m one of those people who thinks I’m roughing it when I buy recycled toilet paper instead of the quilted kind. But I thought it over, and decided Eric on a toiletless mountain was clearly better than a toilet in an Ericless apartment.

Two days later, we were wandering around REI shopping for a bed roll and dehydrated beef stroganoff.

Eric:  What kind of shoes do you have?

Me:   Regular.

Eric:  Hmm. It’s a pretty long hike. But you’ll be fine.

Me:   Long long?

Eric:  Nah, like 20 miles.

I added “blisters” under “pooing in hole” to my mental list of things to worry about.

On the morning of the hike, I took a moment to review the list out loud.

Me:   What if we run out of water? What if we get lost? Will there be bears?

Eric:  Nah. Just lemme know if the altitude gets to you.

Me:   Altitude?

Turns out it was a tall mountain. I got a headache. It rained. And somehow, just like Eric promised, I was fine.

Better than fine.

.

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