[at-l] Tell me your troubles...

[knowhal@netreach.net (Hal Wright)]

So (says the aging, bearded, spectacled hiker psychologist), lay down on ze
couch und tell me your trubles...

Well (says Pokey, the nervous, lowly section hiker), it all started when I
went lightweight...

Doc: Go on...

Pokey: I ditched everything, the 5 1/2 pound Lowe pack, the white gas stove=
,
the full length thermarest, the cotton, the Nalgenes, the four pairs of
socks, everything...

Doc (raising an eyebrow): Evreyzing?

Pokey: Except...except...I CAN=B9T LEAVE THE LITTLE PLASTIC ORANGE SHOVEL
behind!

Doc (leaning forward): Interesting...

Pokey: Don=B9t get me wrong, I sawed it at both ends to make it lighter, but =
I
can=B9t keep from using it...I mean, using my heel, or my trekking pole, to
dig a cathole? Just can=B9t stomach it...and it=B9s worse! I put it in a mesh
pocket on the outside of my pack...

Doc (alarmed): Ze outside?

Pokey: Yes, where other hikers can see it! It seems to glow, like a white
Photon in the shelter at night! I mean, it=B9s almost like I=B9m inviting other
hikers to ridicule me. Can you help me, Doc?

Doc (contemplating): Ve shall see. A tough case. Tell me about your
childhood. Und, do you use da trekking poles wit ze pointy tips? 

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