I've spent much of the last couple of hours digging into our storage closet and the boxes stuffed in the garage trying to locate all my camping gear. My closest friend from college is visiting over the 4th of July weekend, and we're going to go backpacking for a couple of days. I'm hoping that she'll be able to help me figure out my big frame backpack, which I've never used.
I bought that pack sometime in the fall of 1999, around the time I ran my last marathon. T and I were going to hike the Grand Canyon in the early summer, and I had even written away for the backcountry permits. But by the time spring came around, I was pregnant with D. and doing a strenuous hike in 100 degree weather didn't sound like such a bright idea.
BitchPhD blogged last week about visiting with an old friend, looking for reassurance that they're still the same people, even if they spend their days saying "eye-rolling mommy things." K is single, she doesn't have kids, and she has her summers off from work, so she gets to spend lots of time hiking and biking. Our lives are pretty different. And she lives on the west coast, so we don't see much of each other. I'm a little worried that we'll find out that we've drifted too far apart to bridge the gap.