The ant and the elephant

Inspired by our own personal triumph hiking in Peru last year, Delta and I have decided to do a longer backpacking trip in Patagonia this December.

As soon as we've decided on our trip for the year, of course, this brings with it a flurried excitement of planning and preparation (even if it is still an entire year away and all). Without a doubt, there's some hurdles to us being able to make this hike:

Perhaps most importantly, I have to learn to balance a 40lb backpack on my back and somehow propel myself over six hours of rough terrain without having some kind of emotional breakdown. Minor detail, but perhaps a pretty significant one in a backpacking trip.

So yesterday, Delta and I decided to have a bit of a gander with our backpacks. We loaded the packs with our heaviest books, and headed our for a walk in the park. Just from the fact that I could lift the bag at all, I'm guessing it could have weighed no more than 25lbs. But all the same, it felt like a elephant on my back. As soon as I heaved the pack onto my back, I gasped. I chortled. My feet weaved involuntarily under a convoluted command of their own. My face turned purple. Of course, none of those bodily responses actually contributed constructively to the situation, and I noted with some consternation that my body is obstreperously uncooperative in this regard.

Have you ever spent an few moments watching an ant trudging doggedly on, with a crumb on its back several times its size and weight? So there was I, with an elephant on my back.