Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail
Pennsylvania
June 2004
A backpacking trip, this one on the Laurel Highlands Trail. Not more than two hours into our hike, the six of us are caught in a thunderstorm. Lightning in the woods: dangerous, yes. We are clearly not the tallest things in the area, perhaps we will be safe under the canopy. But still, precautions must be taken.
We don our rain gear, water repellant nylon-type jackets with hoods. We lay out our ground pads and squat on them, feet apart, hugging our knees, like we were taught in wilderness survival school. The idea is that lightning doesn’t recognize us — when in this position, there are many more appetizing things to fry. The only thing they don’t tell you in wilderness training is that when you crouch over in this position, the waist of your pants rides down just enough so that the rainwater rolling down the back of your jacket drips right in, under your pants, soaking your arse. This is a real pain in the… Well, you get it.
Some of us, it seems, our socks get wet too.
The storm passes, we slog on, squishy socks and all.
We are father Dave, mother Marilyn, son Mark and friend of son Paul. Also my future ex-wife is with us.
Another electric storm rolls through later, after dark, but we are safely sheltered in the Adirondack-style huts at the camping area. This is one of the great pleasures, to be outside, in the storm, but safe, dry and warm all at the same time. Four feet away, torrents of water pound down with enthusiasm and lightning illuminates the woods like a bad horror movie. Bad, scary, but safe, and quite lovely.
When the evening is done and it’s time for bed — when camping, wouldn’t it be “time for bag?” — the F E-W and I roll out our sleeping bags in the shelter, Mark and Paul take to their tent while our married-to-each-other couple crawl into their own tent, not too far away.
Peaceful night, quiet, the skies have calmed and cleared. Do you know that there are many more stars in the woods than in the city?
Middle of the night, the darkest time. A bug crawls into Mark’s ear. Most of us would find this annoying at best. Time to get Dad. Dad is a good candidate for two reasons. First, he’s Dad. Second, Dave is a physician and this would not be his first insect extraction.
Mark exits his tent and makes his way over to his parents’ tent. Usually when you go visit someone, you first knock on the door. But… It’s a tent. You know this: there is no door that you can knock on. So Mark sidles up to the tent.
“Mom! Mom!” He calls out in an urgent whisper. Why whisper? You’re trying to wake someone up.
“Mom! Is Dad there?”
“Yes, Mark, I’m here. Where else would I be?”
I learn a medical trick: How to extract a bug from an ear. Dave asks Mark, “Can you feel it moving?” Mark says yes. Here we go. Lie down and turn said ear up, toward all the stars. Pour a small amount of water in the ear. Watch for a few seconds and see the bug float to the surface. Turn said ear down and water and bug come tumbling out. Done. “Okay, Mark, go back to bag.”