4 July 2004
Fourth of July
Erin and her dad, Lowell, have a tradition: Every year, they go backpacking in Klamath National Forest. Aram and I are privileged to go with them!
We are serious backpackers. We meet a couple of weeks before the trip to plan, shop, and pack. This year's packing meeting was especially mellow: Erin, Aram, and I arrived feeling sleepy from a heavy breakfast at Kate's Kitchen. Erin and I lolled upside-down on the couch for a long while, coaxing blood back into our brains.
Then we were off to REI, by far our favorite part of every trip. Here, we get to spend money on nifty outdoor gear, and we are snobs about it. Three of us own the Gregory Shasta pack, a trend that started the first year I joined the crew and aroused envy in my companions with their cumbersome old external-frame packs. Now, only Aram was still clinging to his old pack, chanting, "I'll just put on lots of moleskin!" His bony back rubs against his pack until it's bloody. The rest of us, now accustomed to the Cadillac of backpacks, find this unacceptable.
We herded Aram into the backpack section of REI and he reluctantly tried on several packs under the supervision of a smooth, blond, tan, young salesman who flirted and repeatedly called Aram by name. The guy knew nothing about the Shasta pack but plenty about backpacking, so Lowell enthusiastically explained its virtues: its versatility, its tidy profile, its adjustability, its large capacity, and its well-padded, ventilated, moisture-wicking comfort.
Meanwhile, I bought two new water bottles to replace ones I'd lost: a large off-brand bottle for around camp (I prefer a sippy bladder during the actual hike), and a small Nalgene for tooling around the City. Finally there are Nalgene knock-offs, much cheaper and lighter than the original! The Nalgene monopoly was becoming intolerable. Nevertheless, the only 16-ounce bottle in stock was the Nalgene; notice that it cost $2.25 more than the 1-liter knock-off.
Back at the house, we were still too groggy to get organized. A swim perked us up! Cold water, noisy splashing, barking dogs, and finally a poolside lunch of potstickers and Manhattans. Refreshed, we began to think that packing might be fun right about now. Our packs are relatively light this year; we'll only be out in the woods for three days. We didn't even bother to weigh our packs. Last year, packing for a six-day trip, we weighed and re-weighed, struggling to pare our loads down to 50 pounds each for the men and 40 pounds each for Erin and I.
I found some Scotch that was left over from last year's trip, and Lowell and I disposed of it, neat. Our packs all trussed up and stacked against the wall, Erin, Aram, and I said goodbye to Lowell and rushed off to catch Spiderman 2 at the new cinemamegaplex in Emeryville. Toby Maguire sure worked out for his role! Day-am. And suddenly I'm aware of Alfred Molina, after seeing him for years in many, many movies.
I watched the last of the fireworks from the BART platform, rode the train home, and fell into bed. Happy Fourth, Americans!