This is all interfering with my path toward hermithood

I've been thinking about trail events.  Trail Days (or Trail Daze as the smoker crowd thinks of it), Trail Dames Summit, The Gathering, the AT Kickoff, and a few more.  They're for people who love the trail and want to hike.

I love the trail, and I hike.  "Want to" doesn't so much come into it.  Every one of these events that I go to means time and money taken away from actual hiking, which is what I like to do when I have time and money.

The only real reason for me to go to hiking events is to see friends that I've made along the way.  I am almost completely uninterested in the activities associated with them.  I don't want to square dance.  I don't want to sit in a class room.  I don't want to be lectured yet again on "Leave No Trace".  (I'm pretty sure I learned that one as a six year old in Camp Fire.  Although I would like somebody to explain to me how we're supposed to dig 6-8" holes in caliche, or rocky soil, or through rhododendron roots.  So far everybody just pretends that trowel is doing the job, or they give up and claim that if bears shit in the woods, so can they.  It's only natural, right?  Not.  I do my best with the trowel but seriously we need like a Star Wars light saber setup.  Or something. Maybe a backhoe.)

On the other hand, I can't exactly round up fifty of my favorite hikers and go backpacking with them.  That's not good backcountry practice.  You need to move about in much smaller parties - definitely under ten.

Maybe it's that I'm not now, and never have been a party girl.  Nor do I like mandatory fun.  I just like to go do my own thing and enjoy whatever happens.

I like hiking.  I like hikers.  I just don't like "events".  I think my ideal gathering would be a bunch of folks just hanging out with nothing scheduled other than perhaps some meals.

Although, I must say, if it weren't for hiking I wouldn't have spent any part of my evening doing this:

It felt like thousands of tiny needles.  Or being licked relentlessly by a kitten.

the hike between Bear's Den and Harper's Ferry having kicked my butt in the foot.  It was still a bit sore today (despite my not hiking this weekend!) so the chiro hooked me up for a few minutes.  I'm hoping it will be happy soon.

TSA avoidance

Is it just me or is the driving getting worse?  In the last two weeks I've seen my local roads turn into parking lots at rush hour, which is unusual for here.  I've nearly been hit at least five times.  It's been so bad that now I feel like I'm on full alert every time I drive.  It's not relaxing.  At all.  I don't like the feeling of adrenaline pumping when I'm not doing something I typically view as hazardous.  Is everybody uptight about something, and this is causing them to drive like maniacs?  Is it that they are all worried about the TSA groping them, or making fun of their spare tire?  Because they would probably make fun anyway. They would just have fewer detailed graphics on which to base their comments.  So please relax and stop trying to hit my car.  The two bullets it already took are sufficient.% You don't need to take out my bumpers too.

Speaking of being uptight, I've had multiple medical professionals tell me recently that "you can't let stuff get to you."  And I was wondering how, exactly, you not let stuff get to you.  It's not like I have road rage.  (Seriously.  I am unragey.  Even though my car got shot.)  But sooner or later, enough red tape and bureaucracy will cause me to lose my shit.  As you may have noticed, if you have ever read this blog before.  How do you go about maintaining a zen attitude?  Do you "OM" a lot?  Do you drink to excess?  Do you pet doggies?  (I approve of this method, but we can't bring pets to the office.  Or booze for that matter.)

I suppose first you have be prone to annoyance in the face of.. I can't think of a good way to describe this.  Let's just call all annoying bureaucracy "TSA" for short.%%  Some people seem to just let it flow over them.  I envy those people.  I would love to just not care.  But it's like every incident is a slap.  The first slap you can shrug off.  The second slap you maybe frown a little.  The third starts to sting.  And by the fiftythird you have a giant throbbing bruise, and you start to swear that if it happens again you are going to give that slapper what-for, by gum!  Even though it's ill advised, and possibly illegal.  Depending on the what-for that you have in mind.

%Poor Eddy.  Eddy being the car.

%%The Shit that Annoys