I loved bulking up before a big backpacking trip and then eating like a beast afterwards. There was no way to make up for those burned calories but boy I liked trying. My phone gave me an award for setting a new personal record, “most calories burned in a day,” approximately 2,718. It had to be even more than that based on how badly I’d suffered.

I made a three-egg omelette with the last of the shredded cheddar, a forkful of jarred, candied jalapeños, two pieces of toast with Beth’s raspberry freezer jam. Freezer jam is made differently than normal jam, preserved by freezing it briefly, but more fresh tasting and brightly colored since it’s not cooked. I spread that on liberally and then used my butter knife to carve out every last bit from the jar, which I tongued off the knife. Two hours later I ordered a sandwich at my favorite Caribbean restaurant: roasted pork loin, smoked ham, banana peppers, melted Swiss cheese, fresh cilantro and caramelized onions on a good baguette with garlicky mayo. Later I grilled chicken thighs with a chili powder rub and served them over a platter of corn kernels, sliced tomatoes with red raw onion and olive oil, flake salt, the last of some fresh dill I had: you rest the thighs on the vegetables like that and as the chicken sits there it releases the drippings onto the vegetables and makes for a warm, juicy dressing. Beth and I sat outside enjoying it and then I ate two bananas, the last of the blueberries, and now a bag of raw almonds. We listened to Joni Mitchell.

Sitting outside the restaurant looking at all the people coming and going in the strip mall with my excellent fitness I felt smug and superior. I went to REI and bought more things you could argue I didn’t need, but would someday. More fuel, a moleskin kit (what is it about the skin of a mole and could I use real mole, would that be better? Were there DIY videos on the internet demonstrating how to skin a mole?), another map of Rainier (from the west), more energy gels, two mini Nalgene bottles, a new sunshirt hoody. I wore the sunshirt hoody around the neighborhood I felt so good. Wanted to get more steps. I now had more than five miles and this was a rest day. Dawn said you shouldn’t do cold soaks in the bath for more than a few minutes so I did ten. I got on the phone with Brad and couldn’t stop talking, it’s like I’d taken speed. I checked the mole traps and placed two new ones. Tried to nap. Went to Costco for just three things: coffee, laundry detergent, bagels. No cart. I use a quarter cup of vinegar now anytime I wash my backpacking outfits. Still get accused of smelling bad by the wife and kids. Haven’t used deodorant since before Covid. Washed Dawn’s car too.

Looked around this house, a bachelor pad now for two weeks with just Lily and me here, all these maps splayed out everywhere and empty boxes from Amazon, odd things like mole repellent, new backpacks. It was time for me to get this house in order, time for me to get a job. Almost time.

Categories: Creative Nonfiction, Memoir

Tags: Creative Nonfiction, humor, Memoir, pacific northwest