Nerve Endings Firing Away

The backpacking trip along the Chattahoochee river, the lonely rivulet that runs north of Metro Atlanta was precluded by two late-evening classroom sessions. The sessions, which I thought would be complete waste of time were surprisingly insightful and laid to rest many myths I had always believed in, especially the importance of keeping cotton away from your skin when wet. The plans to buy a major piece of equipment from each monthly paycheck was rudely interrupted and I owned only a pair of hiking boots in my long list of must-buy backpacking gear. Thankfully the University recreation center was more than willing to dole out their stuff, albeit at a lowly rental fee. The hardest part of the trip was getting up at an unearthly hour after attending an evening show of the annual Indian cultural show. The rest of the trip went uphill from that point of time.

I couldn’t have found a better time to thank ergonomic scientists for cleverly designing these awesome backpacks that could hold tons and feel like holding up a feather. My last hiking trip in India had nearly killed my back and terminology of internal/external frame was unheard of. The packs towered nearly a foot above my head and gave me an odd sense of Herculean feeling. By-standers sure would have admired our physical strength little did they know that we were enjoying the benefits of ergonomic science. Fashion statements are usually avoided in the wilderness and dull earth shades just help you blend in and of course, we didn’t relish sticking out like a sore thumb if spotted by a grizzly. It almost reminds you of the red hues of the heat sensors that enabled the Predator to hunt down Arnold and Co. However, fortunately (or unfortunately) the downsides of being on a well worn out trail is that we did not sight a single trace of wildlife, not even a measly squirrel. Gosh! If only we had sighted, even a raccoon I would have indulged in exaggeration by regaling my grandkids on my bravado in fighting off a life-threatening grizzly.

The pleasure of enjoying ergonomics wore off gradually as our backpacks seemed heavier with each passing mile and I was thankful to put it down to eat a Nutrigrain bar for lunch. Base Camp was not too far off and we reached there by mid-day. Poor Annie (or Amy; I never really got her name) had missed the session on tent pitching so MV and me were gracious enough to help her do it. She was on a “working to make my relationship with my boyfriend better” mission. It seems that his family was an avid backpacker bunch and she wanted to fit in. Here I was, helping out on some dude’s love life. Of course, she repaid the favor later at night; by asking me and MV to shut up because she could not sleep.

The fanny packs (could not stop my pervert brain from giggling each time that word was mentioned) for the day-hikes were like mice compared to the elephantine backpacks. We trudged through the bushes to reach an anticlimactic spot where three southern states met at a point. An interesting one-liner for my backpacking resume, I must say. After a chaotic session of boiling water and eating some grub that hardly qualified as dinner, we indulged in a session of cross-cultural charades. It can be really a brain racking process to play charades when you don’t have a all-Indian group and most of the Americans in the group were playing it for the first time. Kelly was all hyper about a certain game that she had brought along. I emerged as the unlikely “Pigs” champion. Sometimes I feel that I am lucky in the wrong things in life.

The night was strangely darker than most urban nights, although our heavy-duty Wal-Mart headlamps did cast a eerie halo on the trees. The night got progressively colder and I snuggled deeper in my comfy sleeping bag. The morning arrived earlier than expected. Ever wonder how the days seem longer and nights seem shorter when you are out in the woods? Since it was only a weekend hike, constipating yourself seemed like a feasible option instead of aiming your poop in a hole in the ground. Although, peeing wasn’t such a big deal and it was as if God gave guys that piece of additional anatomical tool purely for outdoor trips. The hike out of the woods was quicker and we didn’t stop to look at wildflowers.

We looked totally out of place walking with our backpacks in heart of downtown Atlanta on our way back and getting funny looks from folks riding in comfort in their air-conditioned cars. However, they do not know what they have missed. Let me hope that I hang around this place to make another trip out to the woods soon.