Egads! I’ve run out of paper… Possibly the first time I’ve ever used ‘egads’ in my writing. Next time I’ll try ‘Good Grief”. Somewhere, Samuel L. Jackson is covering his ears from my potty mouthed-ness and David Mamet is blushing.
Today, an excerpt from ‘The Mount Whitney Journals – Book V’. It’s the afternoon before my 2-day backpack trip on the mountain and I’ve discovered I’m out of writing paper. This is like a photographer running out of film…when we used film. Luckily, I have The Whitney Portal Store near the trailhead, a mile away.
THE MOUNT WHITNEY JOURNALS – Book V- 2009
August 6, 2009. Upon my discovery, I rummaged through my glove compartment for any spare sheets or scraps of paper. I feared I’d be forced to write in the margins of my 4Runner owner’s manual or on the backs of paycheck stubs and old receipts. After a fruitless search, I decided on a trip to the store. If I were I a little more MacGyver-ish, I could make my own paper out of pine needles, dead branches and trout guts; a little more Rambo-ish, and I could carve notes and journal entries into my flesh with a knife.
At the Portal Store, I searched the shelves for anything that might serve as a journal, but only found postcards. This could work if I bought a handful of them. It’s not like I’d be writing Paradise Lost or some such epic saga while on the mountain. In the end, I simply asked the clerk if I could have several sheets of printer paper or something along those lines. Initially, she gave me a look like I was asking for a kidney or speaking Portuguese. But eventually I made her understand that I just needed two or three blank sheets of paper, lined or unlined, and I’d be willing to pay well above market value for them. While she searched the back office, I picked out a couple of souvenir Mt. Whitney fridge magnets to buy so I wouldn’t feel as guilty about panhandling for paper. She returned a minute later with a half dozen sheets of printer paper. I tried to pay for them, but she gave me another ‘look’.