the wind of change and it’s wet message

Several months ago I had my first experience with hiking, after I mastered a Colorado 14er and risked bowel injury by refusing to go to the bathroom for a full day. (Read “It’s Not Fucking Everest” here.) Well, I recently enjoyed my second experience in Colorado wilderness, hiking around a glacier and climbing a 13er. I would note, it isn’t technically a glacier, but we call it that around here because as Americans we like to misclassify things and are completely OK with being outright wrong.

In any event, I can honestly say I really enjoyed it this time around because I didn’t have to poop the entire time. I did, however, have to pee. Constantly. This is nothing new for me—my bladder is the size of a Xanax (pill not bar) and, having to urinate more times an hour than a 90 year-old, I am continually wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Thankfully, the hike we picked was not busy and I was able to either find adequate cover or, in the absence of adequate cover, was not able to find any humans within eyesight, with one exception. And although my pants were down, before I committed to the full squat I spotted the extremely close hiker and was able to right myself before it became any more embarrassing. Admittedly, it was already pretty embarrassing but I think I did a fair-to-good job of pretending like I had tripped and my pants had simply shot off. It happens …

I learned another valuable lesson on this hike having to do with wind, and that lesson is that it sucks. Specifically, it sucks when you are mid-bathroom stop and the wind picks up. I would note that this is the only reason I peed all over my right hiking boot, and not due to lack of balance or coordination. It is very important that people know that.

Anyway, better a pee sock than pee pants, right?! On a serious note, here is some of what I saw, aside from a damp right hiking boot and one stranger’s very surprised and/or horrified face:

Oh wow, look at those cats playing on the perennial ice field! Meow.

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