Unhealthy Hiking Without Preparation and Supplies (Pt. I)

Western North Carolina, where I live, is the Mecca for outdoor activity: biking, hiking, and kayaking opportunities are literally in my back yard. But, as you have read in my previous articles, I am in dangerous territory once I step outside my front door. This past weekend proved to be no different.

I began this story last week as I introduced you to Brian and Jonnie, my two fine "there's hope for America in our youth" nephews. If you read last week's article you discovered that my computer was rendered useless by an attempt to play a 10 year old video game. It was afterwards that I had to brainstorm a new plan of entertainment. My first thought was the local Corn Maze. A local farmer turned his corn field into a maze (an amazing maize maze, you might say). I called about it and found that it takes 45 minutes to two hours to go through it. This sounded like great family entertainment. (You can find a corn maze near you as well at http://www.cornmaze.com/maizequestusa.htm ) Just as I began to introduce my splendid summer activity, Brian spoke up, "Uncle Reginald, we know you will come up with a great plan for us because you're just a big kid yourself. A matter of fact, we're probably mentally older than you are." I'm not quite sure if that was to be a compliment or not. But the pressure was on. "Corn Maze" did not sound like something a "cool" uncle would come up with. My plan needed to be something that was "in", something that showed my ability to be young, something like... (My mind was blank).

I began talking, expecting that my plan would come to me by the end of the sentence. "I know what we're going to do...", I started, leaving myself wide open. They stared in anticipation. I glanced around the room for a clue. There were 2 mountain bikes hanging on the wall that had only been ridden twice in the past 9 years. The last time was when I missed the curve and landed chest first on a large rock, crushing bones and brusing my internal organs. Then there was the golf clubs in the other corner. The last time I played golf was when my sliced ball ended up next to a large oak. As I attempted to play it where it lied, I hit the ball full force, chopping it into the tree and receiving the ricocheted ball into the location about 3 inches below my belly. My buddies played on without me. I continued to search my surroundings when I noticed my hiking boots. Sure the last time I wore them I vowed to never hike again because of the ordeal of being lost for 4 hours. At least we did get out alive.

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