On the first day of my four-day solo trip, I stop ten miles into the wilderness to make camp. The rain has stopped and I find an attractive area for camp, right by a stream in the draw between the leading edge of the front and some other lesser mountain to the west. It is as quiet as these places get, which is to say, I can hear my heartbeat if I try. Or at least I can pretend I can. I listen to the distant coyotes. I ponder stuff. Pondering stuff is what you do when you are backpacking alone. I also hang out naked at my campsite.
I think, “According to the register at trailhead, no one has been here in the last seventeen days. There may be, at this moment, no one within miles of me. There are no bugs, especially no biting bugs. This is how one should properly dress in camp.”
No need to try to get an image of this. It will just disappoint you.
I’m not the first naked person I’ve seen on the trail. June 21st each year is national Hike Naked Day. This tradition is particularly popular on the Appalachian Trail and it is exactly what it sounds like it is.
All right, you caught me. I am not naked. I am still wearing my boots.