[at-l] Great Way to Spend an Evening

[HikingHope@aol.com]

The ripples of excitement were evident when I went to the grocery store 
today.  Smiles everywhere, private among the locals even as they openly 
beamed.  My favorite checkout person said, "People are buying groceries as 
though 
there . . . 's. . .no-w tomorrow."

At the post office, I noticed that people were talking to one another with 
more animation than usual, like the great-pain-in-the-butt summer is over.  
No one was actually vocalizing it, but the twinkle in their eyes spoke loud 
and clear:  THEY are going home.  They won't like coming up here so much when 
it gets harsh out.  Of course, we're just kidding ourselves, which will be 
evident this next weekend.

When I moved up here in the early '70's, this little town was Northern 
Exposure, only we had elk instead of a moose looking in the shop windows.  
Those of us who share those fond memories of a little town that was allowed 
to BE have a wistful look every once in a while, especially when we fantasize 
that "the season" may have come to an end.  (It doesn't anymore--just goes on 
like multi-season clothing all year.)

But to get on to the subject at hand, "a great way to spend an evening,"  
tonight as I have sat waiting for the snow to begin (It finally has.), I have 
been reading the Trailplace journal of Curtis Balls.  He was hilarious last 
year in his e-mailed accounts of his pre-hikes in New York City, when he was 
preparing for his thru.  He is no less hilarious now.  It is just that he 
suffers so eloquently.

He is a great fellow.  I liked him from his writings last winter, but then I 
got to know him as a fellow human bean at the Appalachian Inn, Damascus.  
He's great reading, so I recommend that you take the time to enjoy his 
journey with him., especially the night of the first snow, wherever you live. 
 (Sorry, Florida.)

Kinnickinic
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