Sunday, August 07, 2005

Aural Sex

My ears just popped. The sensation was almost orgasmic. That may seem trivial, but I just returned from a camping trip in the mountains. Upon arrival to one of my favorite places on earth, I realized that I had climbed over a mile in elevation from my starting point.

When the heat of the summer breaks triple digits, there is very little more satisfying than cruising up over 10,000 feet above sea level to cool down and relax around a camp fire. I try with all my might to avoid those "public" camping sites that charge somewhere between $10 and $20 per night because, well, mainly I don't see the point in driving all that way just to have to be next to someone you don't know. I grew up camping to get away from people.

So, this place has a beautiful lake that is filled with trout. I love fishing. It's like zen for me. I can sit on the banks of a lake with my line in the water for hours. It's a wonderful time to relax, reflect, and uncover parts of myself that I have forgotten about.

This trip, I actually caught my first fish of the season. Yeah, August, and I haven't caught a fish yet. Okay, I actually caught 2, but only landed one. Sure, sure, that "fisherman's tale" of the "one that got away." No shit. I didn't see the one that slipped off my hook, and I won't make any presumptions as to whether or not it was related to a great white shark. But, the one that I did land on shore was a decent, pan-sized trout. When I first moved back to this area 4 years ago, I spent the first summer camping and/or fishing almost every weekend until it was way too cold to go anymore. I caught and ate so much trout that I am now sick of eating them. So, as has been my rule for the past 3 years, I let the fish go back into the lake.

Unfortunately for me, prior to leaving Friday evening, I neglected to call in to the county courthouse to see if I am supposed to appear for jury duty tomorrow morning. I remembered this morning while I was still 100 miles from civilization. Just a few minutes ago, I called into the court system's automated message line and discovered I do not have to appear for jury duty and my civic duty for the remainder of the year is satisfied. So, no more worries.

Now I am at home, refreshed, rejuvinated, and one camping-smelly mutha. My "aroma" is a mixture of campfire smoke, bug repellant, and sweat. Yummy. My cat won't get too close to me for any length of time, so I know I have to smell completely repugnant. Yes, a shower is definitely in order, but first I have to mow my lawn. That kinda sucks, but it still has to be done. Then a shower will complete my metamorphisis back to being human once again.

I almost wish I did have to go to jury duty tomorrow. I could use yet another day away from my humdrum Dilbert existence at work.

I can't seem to remember the words to "Big Rock Candy Mountain."

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