WALK THIS WAY

Ever since school got out for the summer last week, I’ve been getting phone calls from my teenaged great neph Bo wanting to know when he can schedule a visit to the Flaming Bore household. He’s bored. Ironic, isn’t it?

I plan to pick him up next weekend after I take a day trip with his younger brother to Noel, Missouri. Luke is a rock nut like his old auntie, so we’re going to tour a cave, pan for gems, and visit a fossil museum. Bo likes rock music, but not the sedimentary stuff. I’ll take him to the melodrama in Wichita, instead. He says he wants me to get him into shape for the church camping trip he’s taking to New Mexico later in June. This means we will go hiking and hiking and hiking some more at various area state parks. And I get to be the drill sergeant!

My most ambitious hiking trip ever was a trek to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. The toughest part of it wasn’t the heat or the terrain but dodging the blasted donkeys (transportation for those not inclined to use their own feet) and their pit stops (aka: piss stops) along the way. My advice: stay off Bright Angel Trail. Those donkeys are devils.

The biggest problem I usually face when hiking is straying off the beaten path. I tend to get carried away looking at the scenery and forget about the trail markers. I hope Bo doesn’t mind following a leader who adheres to the Robert Frost Philosophy of Hiking: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” It's also called, "Lost."