It wasn't until months later that we could bring ourselves to continue with camp chores while talking with an interested tourist, so I stepped boldly up to help with our public relations.
"Yes, we are leaving today. Two-thousand five hundred miles. Yes, mostly all wilderness trail. No, my wife is not a trained nurse. Well if anyone, man or beast, breaks a leg, I guess we will just have to shoot him. It is known as the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail, but in California we first follow the Desert Crest along the mountains surrounding the Los Angeles Basin, then cross the Mojave Desert to the tail end of the Sierras, and from there on we will be in mountains north to the Cascades of Oregon and Washington until we reach Canada."

"What was that? It is known as the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail, but in California ...."
"I'm 30 years old, my wife is 29. Yes, we were married young. My youngest Colette, is eight. Bernadette, that blonde over there is 10. My son is 12. No, that is James Miller, a friend of the family's. No, I don't know where we will live when we finish."
"Well, we have this shovel you see, and we find a tree or bush-to hide behind, and . . ."

Behind me, Bernice burned the eggs because a brace of yellow-shirted Honda-honkers lighted beside our fire and wondered if they could take home movies. The kids got the tents down, but were having trouble figuring out how to fold them to fit the carrying bags.

"Colette, it does so go this way, and if you push that thing again I'm going to punch you in the snout."
"Yes, our children already love our warm old fashioned family way of life."
"Dad said this over that."
"Did not."
"Did so."

"Yes, we have twelve horses. No, we didn't rent them. Excuse me. Bernadette, that over this. James, where is your tent bag?"
" Me?"
"Bet you guys didn't take it out before the tent was folded."
"Oh no!"
"Yes, I do my own horse shoeing."

Three hours later, the crowd had thinned, possibly to get out of the way of books, clothes, and equipment flying through the air. And, one mad man. After having tried to pack all of our possessions three different ways, three different times, I filled up a garbage can with items once thought indispensable, but now, excess baggage.