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linusmines - accept no substitutes:
Aug. 28th, 2006 12:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyburgI never imagined it would come to this. Back in early March, less than a week into the trip, I was sitting around a campfire with 10 men on top of Tray Mountain in Georgia. Eight more people were crammed into the shelter, either sleeping or cooking dinner from the warmth of their sleeping bags. It was so cold that there were no other options; it was fire, goose down, or freeze. We woke up to a foot of snow and frozen boots the next morning. Three people quit at the next road crossing. In fact, nearly all of the people on Tray Mountain that night would drop out; however, for the moment, we were suffering but hopeful.
As I nudged into the ring of people surrounding the fire, a man who went by the trail name Stix spoke up. Stix was a 40-year-old former cocaine addict from Texas who had failed two previous attempts to thru-hike. “They say that men get skinny out here,” he said. “Well, I ain’t got much to lose.” He looked at me from across the fire and laughed. “But women just get thick. Why, Déjà vu, honey, you got nothing to worry about. You’re already thick.”
The men looked at me. I stared into the fire, embarrassed and hurt, but unsure of what to say. Finally, Easy Rider, a 24-year-old Yale-bound graduate student, broke the silence.
“Stix, that was out of line,” he said loudly across the fire from his spot next to me. Turning to me, he added, “Déjà, I think you’re sexy. If you were the last woman on earth I would sleep with you. Actually, if you even make it to Pennsylvania, I’m gonna poke you.”
Disgust took my breath away. I turned from my spot in the circle and walked to my tent. Just before I was out of earshot, I heard another man say, “Naw, they don’t get thick so much as they get mean. The guys get skinny and the girls get mean.”
Inside my tent, I tried to sleep, but I could only think about how I was going to deal with this humiliation all the way to Maine. At that point, I didn’t know that neither Stix nor Easy Rider would make it. I didn’t know that I would out-hike every man there. I only knew that I wanted to go home.
*sighs*
I had books to givewestern_slope because I used to do the backpacks, back in the days when Cliff could still do them. I did the BMTC class the Sierra Club used to do, back in the day - I say that now, because it doesn't exist anymore. Liability did them in.
I've done snow camps, know how to use an ice axe and a whole bunch of stuff nobody uses outside of mountaineering. I have snow jackets rated to -90 in my closet.
Y'know, I'd never considered doing anything like a coastal trail, stem to stern, alone. That was one of the cardinal rules - you never did anything alone. Finding a good hiking partner was often the difference between a good trip and a disaster. Buddy system and all that.
Part of me is going "why should this be an issue if you're female?" - and the other part is going "If I wanted to be alone that bad, there are a LOT of other places, much less well-marked to predators than a hiking trail."
Predators. Yeah.
Read, and weigh for yourself. Frankly, the whole reason this is an issue at all is pathetic.
As I nudged into the ring of people surrounding the fire, a man who went by the trail name Stix spoke up. Stix was a 40-year-old former cocaine addict from Texas who had failed two previous attempts to thru-hike. “They say that men get skinny out here,” he said. “Well, I ain’t got much to lose.” He looked at me from across the fire and laughed. “But women just get thick. Why, Déjà vu, honey, you got nothing to worry about. You’re already thick.”
The men looked at me. I stared into the fire, embarrassed and hurt, but unsure of what to say. Finally, Easy Rider, a 24-year-old Yale-bound graduate student, broke the silence.
“Stix, that was out of line,” he said loudly across the fire from his spot next to me. Turning to me, he added, “Déjà, I think you’re sexy. If you were the last woman on earth I would sleep with you. Actually, if you even make it to Pennsylvania, I’m gonna poke you.”
Disgust took my breath away. I turned from my spot in the circle and walked to my tent. Just before I was out of earshot, I heard another man say, “Naw, they don’t get thick so much as they get mean. The guys get skinny and the girls get mean.”
Inside my tent, I tried to sleep, but I could only think about how I was going to deal with this humiliation all the way to Maine. At that point, I didn’t know that neither Stix nor Easy Rider would make it. I didn’t know that I would out-hike every man there. I only knew that I wanted to go home.
*sighs*
I had books to give
western_slope because I used to do the backpacks, back in the days when Cliff could still do them. I did the BMTC class the Sierra Club used to do, back in the day - I say that now, because it doesn't exist anymore. Liability did them in.I've done snow camps, know how to use an ice axe and a whole bunch of stuff nobody uses outside of mountaineering. I have snow jackets rated to -90 in my closet.
Y'know, I'd never considered doing anything like a coastal trail, stem to stern, alone. That was one of the cardinal rules - you never did anything alone. Finding a good hiking partner was often the difference between a good trip and a disaster. Buddy system and all that.
Part of me is going "why should this be an issue if you're female?" - and the other part is going "If I wanted to be alone that bad, there are a LOT of other places, much less well-marked to predators than a hiking trail."
Predators. Yeah.
Read, and weigh for yourself. Frankly, the whole reason this is an issue at all is pathetic.
