[at-l] Another Blast from the past

[Nadine9799@aol.com]

In a message dated 98-05-06 23:28:26 EDT, sevy@conknet.com writes:

The Unbearable Lightness Of Parapacking

Monday - Late Afternoon
 
 	"Send Lawyers, Guns and Wingfoot!"
 	  The Fondue Has Hit The Fan !"
 
 	Stammerred Little Juan as the group of locals arrived at the shelter 
all
 packed into the back of Floyd Smith's Ranchero.
 	"Who the hell are you guys!" cursed Bobby Lee Smith the anti-hiker.
 	"We are parapackers with a purpose!" shouted the rest.
 	"And so, Little Man, tell us whats ya spec -eee - al purpose !" as the
 Ranchero rocked with laughter. 
 	"Yeah, your purpose right now is to get your hairy feet and stuff outa
 this here lean-to so us real men can party! '  "Yeah! " shouted the
 Ranchero-twins each sticking there heads up through the slightly cockeyed
 after market sunroof Junior had just put in at the parking lot of the
 Franklin Napa store.
 
 	"Hiking is their purpose." said Milo as he came around the corner with
 that big fat Cuban cigar hanging out the corner of his mouth.
 	"And who are you Papa packer ?"  shouted Floyd.
 	"I am Milo Garcia and these are the parapackers.  Come now packermen, 
we
 must leave now - we do not want to trouble these young men."  Milo said
 with that Milo grin as he moved closer to the shelter. 
 	
 
 Tuesday- Early Morning
 
 	 The bugs were bad, the bugs were real bad but Milo had planned ahead 
this
 year.  The parapackers were slowly and carefully making their way up the
 trail, two by two and side by side.  
 
 	Oh no, there was no bug repellant that worked on the parapackers poor 
Milo
 thought as he wheeled Enzo, Little Juan, Little Derrick, Graham and JW out
 of the K-Mart and back to the trail last week.
 
 	And now here were the 50 little parapackers one each in the leg of the
 K-Mart SPECIAL DEAL queen size sheer pantyhose with the big knot on top and
  paranoses pressing forth plodding up the trail.   One little guy would
 shuffle ahead and then his little buddy would shoot forward as the fabric
 would stretch.
 
 	After maybe 2 miles the parapackers had caught on and now Milo was
 starting to fall way way behind as the band of parapackers swish, swish
 swished and snapped up the trail.  The bugs were no longer a problem.  They
 were once again one with the trail like so many little headless June Taylor
 dancers on some long lost Jackie Gleason Show high stepping there way North.
 
 Tuesday - Late Afternoon
    
 	Bobby Lee and the Ranchero Boys were just headin up Forest Service 
Road 41
 when the first of the para-pairs crested the hill, then a second set , a
 third, a fourth.  The twins were riding in the back as Bobby Lee went for
 the brakes.  The dirt flew and the parapackers dove on each side of the
 Ranchero.  The Twins were airborne as Enzo and Little Juan swished and
 snapped over the hill.  
 
 	It was by no means on purpose Milo would later recall but Enzo went 
Left
 and Little Juan he went right and well the pantyhose it just stretched.  "
 Damm but didn't it just catch them two flying Ranchero twins !"   said a
 beaming Milo between puffs on his big Havana.
 
 Tuesday Evening
 
 	Milo was sitting up front with Bobby Lee as the 50 parapackers sat out
 back with the twins as the Ranchero headed down into town.
 
 
 The Bamaman
 AT '81	
 David S. Severance
 The Ossipee Mt. News >>
* From the Appalachian Trail Mailing List |  http://www.backcountry.net  *

==============================================================================