Monday, August 12, 2013

Eau de Mountain Man

Up until a few minutes ago I stank.  Really, really smelled.  I like to think I came by that smell honest.  I spent three days living in tents with some friends, spent one day hiking, one kayaking, and cooked three greasy meals over a campfire (although I am still a vegetarian, I made tons of burgers and bacon for my friends).  On the long drive back home Mrs. Slap & I both found our mutual stanks to be completely egregious.  I type this freshly showered, but there is still a patina of grease, dirt, and pond water that is sneaking its way into my nostrils. 

If I smelled that bad after three days in the woods, what the heck did mountain men smell like after a beaver season?  What about buffalo hunters in the killing fields?  Mrs. Slap often says that it’s a good thing movies don’t include smell-o-vision; seems doubly so for Westerns.

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