Today, in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, I inadvertently gave dressing for the Middle East a whirl.
Just before were headed out on a short hike to Fish Creek Falls, I said to myself, “Self, why don’t you wear a black long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants?”
So there I went, hiking alongside outdoorsy types in khaki shorts and Patagonia moisture-wicking shirts. I got some stares, but I just glistened gleefully in my own personal inferno.
Oh sure, its easy to hike when you are comfortable. But walking at altitude in all black is for true champions.
I wimped out at the falls, however briefly, and exposed my white shins. The glare nearly blinding my son.
From my perch, I watched as some parents didn’t watch their toddlers as they almost slipped on the rocks and nearly smashed their heads to bits. None of things did happen, thank God, but they easily could have.
It seems that the appropriately dressed moms and dads chose to stare into space rather than track their offspring.
“And that,” I said to myself. “Is even dumber than wearing a black sweatsuit on a hike.”