We had taken lots of hikes together and camped out often, but when my husband asked me to go backpacking for a week, I was hesitant. Finally, I agreed. We drove up in the high Sierras to meet with the group he usually backpacked with. As I was harnessed up with the backpack frame and loaded up with what I would need to camp, including food, I knew I had made a serious mistake. In the thin air it was harder to breath, even without climbing with a 40-plus-pound pack on my back. But off we went. After several miles of climbing I realized how important my feet were. Those feet in my new hiking boots and socks were my only means of transportation. You don’t think much about feet until you know they’re your only hope of rescue. I have not taken my feet for granted since.
Published by Sheila Graham
Briefly Speaking is full of hope and encouragement--that's my goal. I'm a professional writer who promises you sometimes funny, sometimes thought-provoking comment on my life in horse country in north Texas and on what's happening in the world at large. View all posts by Sheila Graham