rio grande del norte via rio grande st.
coming back from my first hitch with the big bend desert trail crew, i was reminded of other returnings.
once, towards the end of last year, in the e-corps spike van, i found the effluence of some opened portal or holy of holies, or maybe a black hole flowing in reverse to disgorge its precious contents. i had recently had my day-pack stolen off the porch of the hoc, and with it my nice rain gear. the year before i had lost my old cheaper but still reliable rain gear. but one day there it was in the spike van! my old, rubbery rain gear i had bought long ago at the tractor supply company in mason city, iowa. not long afterwards, my friend carly found in the same van a dusty green rocky mountain youth corps hat that had once belonged to the ever inscrutable crew leader al harvey. he had mysteriously sewn something into the brim behind a piece of fabric--a fragment of rock or a chainsaw link. this i stole from her, as she had never known the man and ive always felt an entirely unfounded sense of entitlement.
how did i look in those days? i wore gray carharts work pants with a folded pair of gloves hanging out the back pocket and held together with an army surplus canvas belt. redwings boots and smartwool socks, a green americorps t-shirt or else a plaid brush shirt, either of which would be tied at the neck with a bandanna--brown, green, or orange--allegedly to keep out sawdust, but really more of a fashion statement. i might also have a pair of earplugs or safety glasses hanging around my neck in addition to this. my face would be wearing a yellow-toothed silly grin and a few days of stubble, and my head, short cut yet still somehow unkempt hair.
once, towards the end of last year, in the e-corps spike van, i found the effluence of some opened portal or holy of holies, or maybe a black hole flowing in reverse to disgorge its precious contents. i had recently had my day-pack stolen off the porch of the hoc, and with it my nice rain gear. the year before i had lost my old cheaper but still reliable rain gear. but one day there it was in the spike van! my old, rubbery rain gear i had bought long ago at the tractor supply company in mason city, iowa. not long afterwards, my friend carly found in the same van a dusty green rocky mountain youth corps hat that had once belonged to the ever inscrutable crew leader al harvey. he had mysteriously sewn something into the brim behind a piece of fabric--a fragment of rock or a chainsaw link. this i stole from her, as she had never known the man and ive always felt an entirely unfounded sense of entitlement.
how did i look in those days? i wore gray carharts work pants with a folded pair of gloves hanging out the back pocket and held together with an army surplus canvas belt. redwings boots and smartwool socks, a green americorps t-shirt or else a plaid brush shirt, either of which would be tied at the neck with a bandanna--brown, green, or orange--allegedly to keep out sawdust, but really more of a fashion statement. i might also have a pair of earplugs or safety glasses hanging around my neck in addition to this. my face would be wearing a yellow-toothed silly grin and a few days of stubble, and my head, short cut yet still somehow unkempt hair.