So we bought “Ben’s” one hundred percent DEET, two bottles, which was probably enough for a platoon in Vietnam. Oh, those poor boys. No one wrote about mosquitoes after being ambushed by a tunneling enemy or rotting from the feet up in water-filled jungle trenches. We only had to deal with bugs. We purchased hat nets to shield our faces from the breath-loving clouds of a blood-seeking enemy. It was that or learn how not to exhale carbon dioxide.
We bought light-colored pants and long-sleeved shirts made of water-wicking, quick-drying fabric and even packed one collapsible walking stick. Two of us were going hiking. Why did we not have four walking sticks? Our inexperience led to a lack of legitimate planning which in turn led to a lack of proper gear. Insects can wing it. Humans should not.
The hike began down a lovely and recently mulched trail that ended after perhaps fifty yards. We hadn’t even left the parking lot at this point. A perilous asphalt crossing led to a longer path of finely crushed gray stone sandwiched between timbers on either side. This illusion took us just far enough into the woods to make us feel like real hikers. Then came a metaphorical kick in the pants as the mud and boulder-strewn actual trail began as if to say, “Go, get on with it, do some real hiking, you fraud!”
😎
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