By Margaret Hedderman
“Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me
Guess I’ll go eat worms.”
This inspiring tune begs the question, if I did eat worms, would anybody like me? If I popped a squat in a mud hole and munched worms all day, would I finally attract a boyfriend? For the sake of St. Valentine and Pete, I’ll say “yes.” Together, he and I would sit in a puddle of filth and bite the heads (or tails, not sure which) off raw, wriggling worms… on Valentine’s Day. It’d be so romantic. (Editor’s Note: Margaret is going to die alone.)
Anyway…. So, seriously… there would be nothing “serious” about this perfect Urchin date. Except for that one part where we wake up at 4:00 a.m. and climb a mountain. I’m not talking Denali here, just a nice, gentle hike to 13 or 14,000 feet. We watch the sunrise in silence, absorbing the warmth and beauty of a new day. After cooking a delicious, dehydrated trail-food breakfast, we swing our packs on and carefully pick/slide/fall our way downhill through the scree.
After bathing in the refreshing mountain stream (is this starting to sound like Pocahontas to anyone? Might have to invest in some buckskin for this date…) we head back to town in search of live music and micro-brews. After wandering through brick and adobe alleys, we find a country-bluegrass band setting up at a hole-in-the-wall brewpub. We spend the afternoon, evening and night with a few pints of ale, good music, and one or two two-steps.
So, until I meet Mr. Climb-Mountain-by-Dawn, Drink-Beer-by-Night, I’ll be waiting, eating worms. Alone. Will someone PLEASE SEND ME SOME DAMN CHOCOLATE?