Yet Another Tale of Woah

Days Walking - 33

So who’s a moron? Yeah, it’s me. I had decided that it was time for the weekly washing (well, rinsing really…) of my thermal underwear bottoms -you know, whether they needed it or not.

In order to dry them, I used three walking sticks and some one-way ties to create a makeshift tri-pole (like the skeleton of a teepee) and draped my long underwear over this structure, clipping it in place.

Then I placed the Coleman stove under the tripod, and let it get its heat on.

I was right then called away to help chase down an escaped gear bag (they’re always trying to escape. It’s like the folks on the island in The Prisoner. Daily - someone cries out “Bag getting away!!” or sometimes “Bag Alert!“ and takes off running after it. If the wind is at 15mph or higher, and the bag is the right size (which it is, since it’s blowing away) it will get its merry tumble on, all gleeful and taunting.

I swear the bag will stop and let you get closer, and then take off again, in a new tangent. Like a playful runaway dog who thinks it's all a game.

So it’s me and Caeled and Adrian, dashing off across the snow after the bag. Adrian catches it (only fair since he’s the one who lost it) and we meet up as he’s walking back.

He does that gesture with his chin - like a guy nod but not - and we look back to camp to see a stream of grey smoke.

Yeah. My underpants were getting their serious smoke on. Like a brazen high school student who lights up in front of the Principal. So I’m yelling for someone to save my underpants as I’m running, but no one can understand me - cause you know, I’m running.

I got to the tripod and I just kicked it over, into the snow. I tried to kick some powder over it, but of course, there’s no powder right there. (Note to self, create powder pile next to stoves before lighting them, from now on). I ended up stomping my cheerily smoldering underpants thoroughly into the ice, which agreeably melted into the cloth.

Damn damn damn.

It could be worse - the majority of the right leg is now gone. Being synthetic, it melted more than it actually combusted. The leg was fused together front and back, and I had to cut it off. What’s left is blackened, and not in the delicious Cajun syle. Hell, I’d take hickory or mesquite at this point. No.

Why me? Why did I not say “Let them get the bag, I’m busy baking my thermals just now?” Because I’m easily distracted, impulse buying was invented for me. And I’m hungry for entertainment. And because being the Bag-Captor carries a special honor, ("Bagachoo, I choose you!") and I want that honor. And because up to this point, nothing of mine had caught on fire. Clearly I will be more careful going forward.

After it was clear that the fire was out, and that no one was hurt, everyone had a good laugh at my expense. We all do dumb things, today was just my day.

Um. I think this is one too many reports of myself as a dufus. Let’s change it, shall we?

…Edit edit edit…

So yeah, um… Anneli caught her thermal underpants on fire this morning, (yeah, that’s the ticket) and we had to laugh. The right leg is mostly gone, and she says that her leg is cold, and she won’t be making that mistake again.

Oh that Anneli, (hee hee!) she’s always doing something, that crazy distracted girl.

(Are they buying it?)
(I don’t think so.)

Litany Webb, signing off

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