Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Trail humor!

A backpacking comic strip! (from a 1983 register)

The Return of the Backpacker With No Name... by George Steffanos (1983)

They lived hard, loved hard, and seldom got enough roughage. They were the backpackers. They would limp into town, worn by the rigors and the loneliness of long-distance hiking. They would clean up, party up, and bravely set forth to face new challenges. They were young. They were daring. They were as hungry as heck. They were the backpackers.

One day, a backpacker, different from the rest, strode into town. He hitched up his hiking shorts, set down his backpack, and stretched his tired muscles. He struck a match and proceeded to light the short, bedraggled stump of a cigar. Pulling his worn serape around his shoulders, he walked into a motel.

"Give me a room with a bath," he told the dirty, weasel-faced motel owner.

The man glared defiantly back at him. "I suppose that you're here to use up all our hot water and eat all our food," he snapped.

"No," the backpacker calmly replied. "I'm here to eat all you food and then use up all your hot water. First things first."

I noticed that the owner's lips didn't exactly move in sync with his voice as he barked, "You're a filthy, disgusting pig! I don't rent rooms to backpackers! Get out!"

The backpacker's glare was cold steel. "Give me a room," he repeated.

"No! Get out!"

The backpacker moved like lightning. In a split second, the motel owner was dangling by his drawers in the most vicious wedgie I have ever seen. He picked up the register and held it out.

"Sign here, please," he squeaked.

Needless to say, hot water and Pop-Tarts were in short supply for some time. As the backpacker strode out of town, he warned all of the motel owners that he would be back, so they had better be nice to other hikers. I ran up to him.

"Who are you, stranger?" I asked.

He smiled, flipped me a package of instant oatmeal, and headed up the next ridge.

***story was edited from original content***


Smoothie King said...

“Til the bones crunch” - Wow...that's significant! Good vocabulary for a farm dog too!

M. Kate said...

I like these stories.