The Venturing Hike

We went hiking day before yesterday. It was beautiful. Granted, we’ll have to call it something other than “hiking” next time if we want certain people to come with us again.

It was a perfectly balmy day; I regretted many of the things I had brought “just in case.” My possessions included:

a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, two walking sticks, a backpack, a canteen, two sandwiches, a small first-aid kit (including matches, a needle and thread, and a signal mirror), a compass, a roll of tp, a pocketknife, an LED light, an emergency whistle, a poncho, a roll of duct tape, the bottoms of my zip-off pants, an extra pair of socks, an extra windbreaker-(maybe)rain jacket, and a large bottle of sunscreen.

As noted in my previous post, I don’t “do” concise.

Pleasantly surprised by and attendance of thirteen (!), we set out from our rendezvous in two cars. This was all fine and pleasant. With a minimum of delays and a good bit of The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack, we arrived at our destination within the hour. It was cloudy, but humid and hot. I ditched the jacket and the sunscreen. I loaned out my hiking sticks. The beginning of “Pigeon Trail” has an angle of ascent of 45 degrees. “That’s not so bad;” thought I, “we did worse than this at Philmont.” Indeed: it was so. I made it with small trouble. I have, however certain advantages in being lightweight. I was somewhat out of breath at the top of the hill. Unfortunately, one of the members of our group has asthma; this was not good. In addition Sarah got poison ivy. At least the first aid kit came in handy.

It was a lovely place. It was truly woody in a way that only the south can be. The site of a decisive battle in the Civil War, the terrain contained a liberal amount of plaques and informational boards. I’m not much of a historical enthusiast for the Civil War specifically, but it got to me. Against the advise of a tactician, the southerners cut a swath through the forest and nine hundred men pulled nine cannons to the top of a somewhat insane incline–overnight–and defended themselves. If that isn’t tenacity, I don’t know what is. Especially exhilarating to me was looking back at the view half-way up a mountain, and realizing that we had just climbed up and come down the mountain behind us. I never knew how much ground I could cover in an afternoon: according to the map, I believe we covered five miles; counting in switchbacks and vertical distance it was longer.

We lunched at the half-way point, where all the tourists were getting off their buses to see the view. We had reached the peak of the second mountain. My sandwich was mushed. Oh, well, I worked for my supper and I bet it tasted a lot better than it otherwise would have. We started the descent, our group splitting in two by pace. Sarah and Sarah were in the front. One of them happened to notice a vine some kids were swinging on. It did look like fun. Unfortunately, Sarah’s trip ended mid-swing when she landed in a patch of Virginia ivy interspersed with poison ivy and got scratches up and down her leg. Ouch.

We reached a fork in the trail and got our bearings; the trail led through the visitors’ center. Since it was Memorial Day weekend, the visitors’ center off the trail had a uniforms exhibit. It was really neat seeing all the soldiers’ stuff from the world wars. Then came the informational video, which was more informative, big-picture wise than all the informational boards. After this, we continued happily down an easy path that skirted the battlefield: truly beautiful. I began to berate myself. I hadn’t even used most of my stuff! Sarah came into contact with roughly twenty-five dogs on the trail. She petted all but one or two of them, and that wasn’t for lack of asking. There were also lots of boy scouts with loaded backpacks training for Philmont. The trails weren’t a bad simulation of Philmont either. Then it started to sprinkle. We doubtfully pulled on our ponchos; “It wasn’t going to last that long in all probability, was it?”. Then it poured. My poncho hood came up, and my wonderful cowboy hat went on. We slogged through the rain looking like a group of flamboyant Keebler elves in our brightly colored ponchos.

And then, we were back at the car. After ten minutes, the rather damp and tired second half of our group happened along and we set off. I lent out my dry extra pair of socks; my initial pair had been protected by my duct tape adorned boots and were quite dry. So in the end, I ended up using everything in my pack when we set out but my roll of tp, pocketknife, LED light, emergency whistle, trusty roll of duct tape, and the bottoms of my zip-off pants. I’ll leave some things off the list next time, but others it’s just good having. I had a good time.

I would like to thank the veterns for fighting for all of us.

Happy Memorial Day, everyone!

~Joanna

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What I learned in Business Law 2200

My chronic absence has not been for nothing. In fact, I actually learned something while I was away. (Imagine that!) In light of my experiences, I think it was actually worth it too take a class in business law and get a little behindhand on everything else.

* The first thing I learned was that procrastination invariably leads to naps. This sort of nap, while infinitely enjoyable, almost always leads to odd situations. One day, in the beginning of the semester, I decided that I needed to be in a certain frame of mind to read my law book. (Poor fool, I had not yet learned that law creates its own frame of mind.) I waited until late afternoon and read the chapter in admirable detail. Unfortunately, the homework assignment for that chapter was due the next day and it was already quite late. I worked into the night and finished sometime around two. The next morning rolled around at precisely five fifteen a.m. I awoke with great vigor. My vigor wore off sometime around ten that morning. I had to have a nap. But my dad was still in the office where I was encamped and I had loads of schoolwork to do. I would simply have to put it off. I awoke sometime later to find the edges of the last thirty pages of my chemistry text saturated with drool. (Fortunately for me, and my younger sister who will be reusing the book, the pages of the chemistry book are made of heavy, glossy paper–perhaps in foresight of such an occurrence.) Another awkward situation arose with student advising. My father is by now quite used to it, but the sight of a body stretched out on the floor, even if studying, has never quite lost its tendency to startle visitors.

* I also learned a thing or two about detail. I read everything in detail. I have never quite been able to loose that trait. But law added a whole new dimension to it. Since every. single. insignificant. word. is important, I began to ready even more slowly. This did not help my stress levels at all. Then, toward the end of the semester, although I still hadn’t properly learned the lesson about procrastination, I began to learn how to skim. I read several chapters the evening before the quiz. Although this was not due to skimming per-say, I like to think that it was because I was getting better at seeing what was important. (Yes. My grade was lower than average that day, and I fell asleep on the floor again. Not recommended.) My normal reading is still a good bit messed up, but at least now I can skim.

* I learned how to look for what is important and honed my blather power. You focus on the issue in the case. You find the rule. You use the magic words to apply the rule and talk about contingencies. You recap in the conclusion. Period. In theory, at least. I tended to focus on the issue, find the applicable rule and any other rules which came into my mind. I talked about the issue in detail, the contingencies, the possible contingencies, and the contingencies had the facts been different. I find it hard to strike a balance.

* Around this time I discovered that the common man knows little about the law. My sister brought home a book from a friend’s favorite series, The Ranger’s Apprentice. It was indeed well-written for a kids book. However, the characters took to bashing lawyers. “The treaty was drafted by lawyers so there is a certain ambiguity to it, Baron Arald sighed.” Ha! treaties count as contracts practically, and those have to be reasonably certain. (In this case, name all the parties, the subject matter specifically, the consideration, and the time of performance.) The author goes on to confused the origins of common law, and bewail lawyers as strange people who can’t make up their minds and adore paperwork. But then, perhaps the problem lies not with the author, but with myself. I started seeing law everywhere. I also saw an appaling lack of law. Basic knowledge ought to be required in our politicians.

* Another thing that happened connected with the law class was my glasses broke. As a result. I stumbled around for two weeks (For one of which I was on vacation.) in a blur. It is rather amazing what you notice when your eyes have to adapt to change. I noticed depth without my glasses. I noticed color and detail with my glasses. Leaves were razor sharp and vivid. More importantly, so did the whiteboard. As I am a visual/tactile person, I remember little of what I hear. The beautiful outline my father drew on the board meant nothing because I couldn’t read it. Be thankful for what your professors demonstrate. Also, be thankful that your professor writes legibly. If you claim that your teacher’s writing is illegible, you ought to see your own. My father graded everything from typed pages to Edwardian script to something very different. Yes, it was that bad, and worse. I learned that profs like your papers typed.

* Hallways are wonderful places. Old certificates and empty bulletin boards and cleaning people. Most of the professors either avoided eye contact or smiled at me like their favorite granddaughter, and most of the students looked like zombies in a rush. The maintenance people were fun, though. I know not what makes an enormous file cabinet being zipped down the hall, or a computer being delivered to a non-existent office so funny, but it is. Anyway, maintenance people don’t all dress alike, and they don’t look like they’ve been doing the same thing forever. I like them.

* Regardless of what I said about profs in the preceding paragraph, profs are really nice, generally. Merciful, I should say. I, for one, got more slack than I deserved. But I learned about work: plunging in and getting it done. And that, I think, about sums up my semester.

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