I am embarrassed to have found myself in the middle of one of the most challenging hikes I have ever attempted, dressed like a noob.
I’m scrambling up the bald face of a steep red mountain, hoping I don’t fall as there is nothing below me except a pair of unsuspecting hipster hikers. Well, maybe they are not so unsuspecting; I know they would love to pass me.
Below them are only sharp rocks and a steep incline where falling objects (or persons) pick up speed before tumbling to a stop.
The light pack on my back is fine, but I’ve got a yuppie eco-friendly bag, toting a six pack and two small boxes of wine, that awkwardly dangles off of one shoulder when I stoop to climb up a steep spot.
I’m in jeans, the sure sign of a trail newbie, and my running shoes are more suited to a track workout than this steep crazy mountain goat climb.
Isn’t that such a girl thing to be thinking about my outfit as I’m looking for toeholds on bald rock at 4900 feet?
Even so, the adrenaline of doing something ill-advised and freakin’ awesome has kicked in. I’m feeling pretty good, in spite of having no clue a few minutes earlier we would be doing this.