One night in the lobby
Of the Commodore Hotel
I by chance met a bartender
Who said he knew her well
— The Prophet Lowell George
Mo says that any hike that ends at an REI is a good hike.
This was a good hike.
We bet a million bucks on the combo wager of whether the Dixie Chicklets were named after a Little Feat song and whether we would get doused by the impending storm before our return. It was, and we didn’t. I am rich.
We had planned to go to the Italian place afterward, but a convenience store near the trailhead had hot dogs. Mo was totally smitten with her dog, which consisted of 2 pounds of sauerkraut, a tub of relish and a dose of Earl Campbell’s Secret Sauce. She has no idea what was in it. Apparently it’s a secret.
We then went to REI to get a headlamp to replace the one broken by a well-meaning but inept person trying to replace batteries. No need to name names. Helpful REI inundated us with the facts and figures and pros and cons and an old black-and-white cartoon of a dancing beagle. In the end, I just grabbed something to get it over with. I apparently ended up with a Coleman lantern, which is large and quite heavy but looks good strapped to the top of my head.
Hot dogs, no rattlesnakes, mysterious moss trees, a lightning show on the way home and I won a million bucks.
This was a good hike …