Jared M. from Baltimore, MD

Question:

After seeing all of your cartoons, I can’t help wondering, did you attend art school? Are there any showings of your pictures around the country? Why have I not seen your work before?

Answer:

I can understand your confusion. Many people who see my work wonder the same thing. For example, this is a picture of a crocodile wearing a space helmet.

Crocodiles in space

I know what you are thinking, and, yes, it is brilliant.

How is that helmet useful to the crocodile? you might ask. How does it deliver any oxygen to it’s lungs?

And will I tell you that, if you have to ask, you will never understand.

Incidentally, I do have a sister who studied art in school. Hi Audrey! Unfortunately, she can’t drop what she’s doing every time her big sister needs a picture that demonstrates the similarities between birds and dinosaurs (and this sort of thing happens a lot), because she is too busy making actual art.

So, I guess what I’m saying is that you’re stuck with me. And yes, I did just draw a picture of a crocodile wearing a top hat. Try not to get overly excited. It’s bad for your cardiovascular system.

ps. I am now drawing cartoons. Please think they are funny.

My hiking buddy, Erin, just finished reading my blog (not something I require any of my friends to do), and she came up with a mash-up of the last year and a half. This may only be funny to us. Here goes nothing:

-You met some vegan jerks on the AT (named Strips & Primal) and they told you how ADORABLE you were!

-An emergency blanket is essential to backpacking because it can be used as a hiking skirt.

-Chairback Mountain was the original title to Brokeback Mountain until the writer was inspired to create the new title after attempting to hike a mountain in Maine.

-Pidgeon is the method of delivery for drop boxes along the trail…and somehow the boxes always have dirty joke written on the outside…

-In the 100 Mile Wilderness, there is militaristic cult led by Mango Mamma, who allows pictures of trees an waterfalls to only be taken in B&W during the month of July.

-A Dutch couple from Holland were ‘submudging‘ next to you in a lean-to and you decided never to eat pudding again!

-Cytomax was the new pair of combat boots your mom gave you for your birthday that you wore in the shower…yeah, that’s right:)

-A person named Icebreaker made up songs on the trail…your favorite was “Vole With It (bounce box style)”.

-You shaved your head when you were trying out the trail name Quarter Dome.

-A caretaker named lady bits made you cheesy pan pizza biscuits one morning.

-Ray Jardine is a Star Trek character who drinks root beer floats and has had commitment problems ever since his run-in with a bear shark!

-Poison Oak was a trail that….kicked…your…BUTT! I don’t think I’ll every attempt that one!

-Southbound is the term used to describe what happens when you eat too much Mac n’ Cheese that you mixed with coke and alcohol on a stove. Not pretty!

-Your body odor was so strong that you had hallucinations and a mosquito told you that you were the cutest girl in Maine.

-You met a cute looking Tortoise who you named Sally and developed a relationship similar to the one Tom Hanks had with Wilson the volleyball in Castaway.

Thanks Erin!

Kay B. from Nova Scotia, Canada

Question:

Knowing that there is a looming zombie apocalypse, what is the best way to protect yourself from the ravenous hordes of the undead?

Answer:

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and the solution is quite simple- become a backpacker. Or at least get to know one. And here’s why:

Top ten reasons to have a backpacker with you for the zombie apocalypse

1. We know how to carry heavy loads full of supplies.

Not so useful to be an ultralight here.

2. We will help you get away from the city.

Crowded areas are the most dangerous.

3. We crave the taste of ramein but not man-flesh.

Which is to say, backpackers are not zombies.

4. We routinely hike with blunt objects (trekking poles), which can be useful for self defense.

Bet you didn’t know they were so multi-functional.

5. We stick together.

Backpackers are good people.

6. We provide b.o. camouflage.

Sometimes, judging by scent alone, it can be very difficult to distinguish between a backpacker who has been in the woods a long time and the reanimated corpse of a partially decomposing zombie. I’m just saying.

7. We can climb tall mountains.

Zombies, not such good climbers.

8. We know how to rough it.

Who else can eat beef jerky for days without becoming sick or constipated?

9. We will keep you entertained.

There’s always a good story around the fire.

And finally:

10. If you are going to be consumed by the roving masses of the relentless undead, why not die doing something you love?

Backpackers will get you out into nature for some lovely last moments. And, because everything tastes great in the woods, your last meal will be pretty darn good, too.

The zombies are coming already. Be prepared!

Also, zombie Johnny Bravo is pretty terrifying. And stylish.

]]> http://www.dressedindirt.com/2010/06/reader-question-16-backpackers-vs-zombies/feed/ 6 http://www.dressedindirt.com/2010/06/why-you-should-hike-in-a-skirt-or-at-least-think-about-it/ http://www.dressedindirt.com/2010/06/why-you-should-hike-in-a-skirt-or-at-least-think-about-it/#comments Mon, 07 Jun 2010 09:00:49 +0000 Adelaide http://www.dressedindirt.com/?p=1794

You should feel very intimidated by this picture

I am going to break this down in one word: pee-ability. That is, the ability to pee wherever you want. Now, I’m a big fan of leave not trace and peeing away from the trail, but the are some times when you just really, really have to go. If you are a guy, dealing with this situation in a discrete manner is easy (and I don’t have to tell you how), but for a woman, you run the risk of embarrassing yourself by showing off your backside. (Not that this has happened to me or anything).

Here is one example from my life: I was hiking in the White Mountains (I think on Wildcat D), and it began to storm. First it poured rain and then hail. As the wind blew, I hiked as fast as I could, trying to get off the mountain. Then, as luck would have it, I had to pee. I tried to ignore it. I fought it hard because at that moment dropping my pack, going into the woods, and taking off my soaked pants all in the hail, felt only slightly preferable to having my teeth pulled without anesthesia. Eventually, I had to give in. Now, if I had been wearing a skirt, I would have had enhanced pee-ability (I’m working on making that a word), and could have gone to the bathroom without even having to take off my pack.

There are other benefits to hiking in a skirt, but one more word about the pee issue. The shelters on the Appalachian Trail see a lot of traffic, and, if you choose to stay in one you will be surrounded by both your shelter-mates and the tents set up nearby. As a female, if you have to pee in the middle of the night or early in the morning, wearing a skirt diminishes the likelihood of unintended moonings (unless you’re into that kind of thing, in which case, wear pants or hike naked).

I first began hiking in a skirt after several enthusiastic recommendations from men and women wearing them on the trail. I am glad that I followed their advice. Here are a few other benefits I have observed: First, if it starts raining, you can easily slip your rain pants under your skirt, and then put your skirt in your bag. Likewise, if you get cold, you can slip your long underwear on and off very easily. When you’re wearing pants, this is a much more difficult situation. For warm weather, hiking in a skirt provides a nice ventilation, as I’m sure you guessed. I now hike with gaiters so that my legs are protected, and a skirt so that I can feel the breeze.

Yes, the uninitiated may think you are a little weird. For me, I never wear skirts in town, so my friends think it’s funny that I hike in one. They remind me of this often. And, perhaps I should have mentioned this sooner, you do run the risk of being called cute. But let me tell you, enhanced pee-ability and ventilation are a worthy trade-off for a little bit of ribbing.

As you may know, there is a myth that menstrual blood attracts bears, wand therefore women should not go hiking during their periods. Not true. Bears are not attracted to blood, but who is attracted to blood? Sharks. This had led me to the creation of the bear-shark. Women on their periods should beware. Men should beware, too, because you never know what to expect from a bear-shark. In fact, everyone, everywhere should be be very, very afraid of the bear-shark.

Bear-shark is wily and dangerous

There is also this bear-shark that I like as well.

Bear-shark in Carebear style

I haven’t decided which one I like better. Votes? I’m thinking of making this a t-shirt.

My recent encounter with Poison Oak has left me paranoid, and I think it is beginning to affect other areas of my life. A few days ago, I wrapped my hands in garbage bags and proceeded to wash every item of clothing I have that had even come close to contact with poison oak, or clothes that had been in possible contact with other clothes that might have touched the poison oak clothes. It’s complicated, I know. This turned to be half my wardrobe. I then hosed down my backpack, shoes, and tent and crossed my fingers.

On a recent hike, every time we came close to water, I rinsed off my my arms, legs and face on the off chance that I had touched poison oak inadvertently. When I got home, I immediately stripped down, ran naked through my apartment so that my clothes wouldn’t touch anything, and threw them in the washing machine. I then took a cold shower and scrubbed my body with Technu, henceforth referred to as “The magical scrubby stuff of no poison oak-y awesomeness.”

I’ve even started giving dirty looks to plant life. I’m talking to you Oak tree. Don’t think I don’t know who your relatives are.

In short, I’ve been traumatized. Fortunately, there are many people who can related to my suffering, and we get to share war stories. And there is always someone who has had than worse than me, which I guiltily find comforting.

A friend of mine told me that there is a man in England who infected himself with tape worms to reduce his allergies. And, while the procedure was apparently effective, I don’t find the prospect of internal creepy crawlies more appealing than my allergic reaction to Poison oak. Yet.

There are, of course, some people who don’t have any outdoor allergies, but I don’t like them very much. You know who you are. Here’s a quick tip: when one of your friends has had a major Poison Oak induced outbreak, that’s not really the time to bring up your lack of allergies. Your friend will probably mutter something under their breath, and then set your car on fire. Seriously. Just keep it to yourself.

So, if after a hike you find me curled in the fetal position, taking a cold shower, and scrubbing myself with Technu, rest assured that I am getting therapy, stocking up on benadryl, and will be just fine. Eventually.

Poison oak

There is no delicate way to put this, so I’ll come straight out with it: I have a palm sized poison oak rash on my left butt cheek. It’s true. And, with the exception of my face or lady bits, I’d have to say that this is the worst place I could get poison oak.

Let me tell you why:

Reader: Hold on a moment. Is this about to be tmi? Because you already brought up your lady bits and I’m afraid that we will be passing into dangerous territory.

Addy: Don’t worry. I’ve only forced the gory details on my close friends. You are safe here.

Ok, back to business. Reasons poison oak on your bum is worse than being stalked by an angry mob of chickens.

Reader: What?

Addy: Give a girl a break! This itching is making me crazy.

Reason #1: Just sitting down is maddening. It is very hard to balance on one butt cheek for hours at a time, but that is what I’ve had to do. I’m taking a couple of classes at Portland Community College right now, and I’m sure my teachers wonder why I’ve been leaning far to the right and constantly fidgeting. At the end of the day, I have been left with one butt cheek sore and the other itchy. This is not a favorable combination.

Reason #2: You can’t solicit your full level of pity. If you have a poison oak reaction on your leg, you can at least show it to your friends, gross them out, and receive a lot of pity. And while my roommate did offer to take one for the team and check my rash out, I turned down her offer because I prefer to show my butt cheek to a very selective group of people. (Mom, you made it! Congratulations.)

Reason #3: Along those same lines, you can’t really see a poison oak rash on your own bum without doing a contortionist act or strategically arranging several mirrors. I have not been doing yoga long enough to make that first one work.

Reason #4: To put on Calamine lotion, you have to get naked and stay naked until it dries. This is particularly annoying if you get itchy in public. It’s a little weird to wait for a while in a bathroom stall with your pants down, so I’ve skipped that and suffered through the itching.

Reason #5: And while we are talking about itching, I will add that there is no dignified way to scratch your bum in public (or in private, for that matter).

There are many other reasons why having a poison oak rash on your bum is so bad, but I will spare you the tmi territory.

Amazingly, there is one upside to this situation. When things have gone wrong this past week and I’ve begun to take myself too seriously, all I have to do is giggle and say, “Tee-hee. I have poison oak on my bum,” and that helps lighten my mood. Because, let’s be honest, it’s just ridiculous enough to be funny.

I recently lead a trip from Seaside to Manzanita with the Portland Women’s Outdoor Club. It’s a pretty exciting stretch and quite beautiful. If you are interested in doing this section of the Oregon Coast Trail, let me know because there are some complications with this stretch. All in all, it was a great trip and I hope that there will be further development of the Oregon Coast Trail.

Here are a few of my pictures:

Oregon Coast Rainbow

Bubbles from the tide

Sunset at Hug's point

Barnacles at Arch Cape

Coast

My first caveat: this guide is mostly psychological. I’d recommend pairing it with another instructional site like this one: Cool Little Miniature Stove or this great tutorial from Mungo Says Bah.

Addy’s guide on how to survive making your own alcohol stove

A working Coke can stove

1. Go to the store and buy a six pack of root beer and a gallon of ice cream. That way, if you get really irritated while you’re making your stove you can have a root beer float to cool off. You’ll also have extra cans available in case you make a mistake and need to start again.

2. Become comfortable with failure. This project may take several attempts. Now, I say this, but several people that I have taught this skill to have been able to master it right away, which makes me curse secretly under my breath, but I am very clumsy and it took me awhile. You may be just like me and still trying to develop your fine motor skills. In which case, become comfortable with messing up.

I'm so frustrated!

3. Cut one of the cans to 1 inch using the method you prefer. I like to put the razor from an exacto knife into the one inch mark on my Joy of Cooking book (because it should have at least one function) and score the sides of the can.
Reader: Look. I am holding a sharp object. If I get cut, I will sue Addy. Bad idea: I live in a basement and you would likely only get leftover root beer cans in your settlement.

4. Use the 2nd can to stretch out the first.
Reader: I am so flippin’ frustrated. I will go have another root beer float.

5. Cut the second can to one inch.

6. Punch 5 small holes in the center on your second can.

Argh! Whose stupid idea was this!

7. (Optional) Put cotton or fiberglass in your second can to serve as a wick. I don’t do this, but here at Dressed in Dirt we accommodate all lifestyles.

8. Fit the two cans together- the one with the holes in it goes on the inside. I know it seems counter-intuitive, that two equal sized things would go together, but with a little work you can do it.  Actually, this is the most irritating part of this whole process. Feel free to use the cuss words of your choice at this point.
Reader: Argh. I hate this. Whose stupid idea was it to make this stove in the first place? Reference #1 and #2.

9. Once they are together, poke 24 holes around the top can.

10. Pour a little alcohol in.

11. Light the bottom and then the top.

12 Say hooray! or curse, depending on the outcome. Either way, you will now have a sugar rush from the 4 root beer floats you have enjoyed, which isn’t so bad.

Yay! (or not)

In short:

Be patient

Have fun

Drink a root beer float