Years ago I went on a Boy Scouts backpacking trip that was 60 miles long, from Snoqualmie Pass to Stevens Pass up in Washington state on the Pacific Crest Trail. I was one of two adults, our scoutmaster and myself as assistant scoutmaster. We had four boys along with us on this high adventure and one of them was named Victor, who was very athletic, a running back at his high school football team, while the other three boys were all farm boys, all in pretty good shape, although not real athletic. But they knew about hard work and could hold their own out in the wilderness.
These trails we hiked were not flat, so we did some pretty good climbing. Since we were backpacking, we brought tarps instead of tents, we brought dehydrated food instead of canned goods. If you’ve been backpacking, you know what all goes into a week long high adventure. We could only carry a certain amount of weight in our backpacks. As we're traveling along, Victor seemed like he wanted to be out front and leading the pack, which was not a problem because the trail was well-marked. So he would climb fairly quickly and get up to the top, turn around to kind of mock us like, “Come on. This is easy. My Grandma is faster than all of you!”
