Advice for backpackers

The weather reports were spot-on this past weekend while we were backpacking. Isolated thunderstorms? Exactly: isolated to wherever we were hiking. Picking along the soggy trails, I came up with this handy formula we can all use on our next camping trips:

1. Check the weather. Pay attention to the percent chance of precipitation each day.
2. Add those percentages. In our case: 30% Saturday + 40% Sunday + 30% Monday = 100%
3. Multiply by three. From our formula, we now know that there is a 300% chance of thunderstorms over the weekend.
   
4. Pack accordingly - and with a 300% chance of rain, bring your best attitude.
   

When you're backpacking, it's hard to decide how much to pack. You want enough for just-in-case, but not so much that you carry extra weight all the way there and back. So you wrestle: Do you take the extra socks? The extra long sleeves, for if it rains? What about that heavy tarp? 300% chance of rain says, "Yes!"

Abe was the one who bought the duck's back covers for our packs, the one who wouldn't negotiate leaving the tarp at home, and the one who told me "you need rain pants!" and came home with a child's pair that's still too long. And he was right.

(Pictures to come.)

Amusez-vous

You'll have to suffer without me until Monday, because Abe and I are off to New York this weekend for a quick visit with some of his relatives. Since his grandfather owns a cider mill in Cortland, I'm fairly certain that I'll be too busy admiring the fall foliage and eating pie to update.

Til then, cheers!

It's my birthday, y'all

Leave me your best birthday wishes, because Abe is whisking me away to a cabin in the Tennessee mountains! When I get back, I'll have exciting stories to tell about how we ate, slept, watched an obscene number of movies, and soaked in the hot tub on the deck of our cabin.

And I'll definitely try to liven it up in here, because I know it's been a little quiet this week. See you on Wednesday!

Does it make me as old as your mom that I just had a 5 year reunion with friends from college?

I'm back from Boston, and completely exhausted. I should have seen this coming and requested a day off to recover. Instead, on Monday I flew back to Charlotte on a 6 am flight and reported to work at 3 pm. I've been dragging ever since. It feels criminally mean that I have to wait until Saturday for a day off.

Here is a problem with vacation, especially vacation with old friends: it makes work seem even less fun, because it points out what you're missing in all of those hours that you're copying and filing and trying to convince pregnant women to quit smoking and fighting each other. If you haven't taken a vacation in a while, you may be missing:

1. late night "fast walks" - not runs - to the store
2. a good Dark 'n' Stormy (HINT: add a splash of bitters!)
3. hilarious conversations that should definitely not take place in public (...oops.)
4. photo ops (sometimes photo oops) on street corners and in front of historic buildings
5. much less sleep than you would be if you were trying to cram five years of fun into less than five days.

Now I am missing those things, too. Today I had to make a quick Fedex run to mail some mail, and I think I got tetanus using their restroom. I'm also convinced that they put receipt printer paper on their toilet rolls.

Boston or bust!

Today I'm off to Boston! It's going to be a fantastic weekend reunion with four of my best mates from college. It only took me three hours to pack a suitcase with a volume of about three cubic inches, because I'm told that it's cold in Boston, and since last winter I have forgotten important skills like : how to layer, how to tuck jeans into boots, how to match, and where is my coat?

In my defense, most of those hours were spent trying on outfits that I didn't pack and tearing apart the bathroom, because when I travel I become obsessed with finding the tiniest containers. Tiniest suitcase? Check. Tiniest face cream? Check. Tiniest lotion? Where is the tiniest lotion?! The size of the emergency is inversely proportional to the size of the tiniest lotion.

So hopefully after all that I remembered to pack my underwear, because in fifteen minutes, I'm off!

Here's hoping that you have a wonderful labor day weekend, and interpret it less literally than my coworker (who will be - you guessed it - working) and my client (who should be in an entirely different kind of labor this weekend).

Thank you, Pisgah National Forest

This weekend Abe and I had a tremendous adventure in Transylvania County. I checked the weather before we left, when I was deciding whether to take my cute-as-a-button pumas or my water-resistant teva shoes which look like duck feet (so much that Teva apparently erased all evidence of them on the internet. They are a little bit like these, only red and for women. Also, feel free to notice that even one of the reviewers on that website said they "look odd"). The weatherman said there was a 20% chance of rain, so I went with the cute pumas and completely forgot my raincoat, which is so cute, from Goodwill, and has a rainbow zipper.

It of course started pouring less than 2 minutes after we pulled into the parking lot on Turkey Pen Road. Abe and I were 100% soaked by the time we built our own camp site in the woods (don't tell, as I believe that may have been illegal), and there is now a "20%" chance that I'll never return to wunderground.com for my weather forecasting needs (At wunderground.com, see,"20%" apparently means "100%. Look out, weatherman. Now I'm catching on. I'm speaking your language). And a 20% chance that I'll find that weatherman and attack him with a hose on the day he's wearing his cute pumas. Lucky for weatherman, we had a good time in spite of the rain. We "enjoyed the instant gratification of a delicious Cup Noodles," floated down the river on inner tubes, befriended the wildlife (by which of course I mean that I found a tiny frog, and Abe put it on his nose so we could take hilarious pictures), and rode our bikes until Abe's pedal fell off (which was not probably so long as it sounds).

Then we came home without getting lost to a clean house and very grateful kittens (at least until they realized we'd put them back on their feeding regimen. Sorry, fat Franc). We unpacked, did a little yoga (Abe said "Turn it down!" when I started the video, "This is embarrassing!"), and washed clothes using my Highly Successful homemade laundry detergent.

So thank you, Pisgah National Forest, for this weekend, which was memorable, crazy fun, and with my favorite husband.


P.S. This is all about saving water.

A backpacking trip in haiku

SATURDAY

Rhododendrons, rocks

Sunshine, flooded trails, sweating...

We walked fifteen miles.

A pregnant pony
Not nearly as aggressive
That I almost liked.

Mt. Rogers? Lame-o.
My pack was way too heavy.

I am so sunburned.

Dinner by camp stove.
A good night of hammock rest

Is just what I need.

SUNDAY

Slept in until nine
First things first: instant coffee.
Hiked up a huge hill.

Goodbye, Old Orchard.
Nice camping, but your trails suck.
One dude in spandex.

Ate lunch in a field.
Hammocked in the shade of trees
Sausage, cheese, crackers.

Used my diva cup.
Dad "swam" in freezing water.
You go, diva cup!

MONDAY
Hello, you sunrise!
Woke up to your oranges.
Ate granola bars.

Packed up camp early.
Felt sad to leave the vistas.
Met a copperhead.

With sticks Abe and Dad
harrassed it while Mom freaked out.
Then we had to walk.

Ouch, feet! You sure hurt.
So does going back to work.
So do you, sunburn.