Hung Up On Rope (9/23/07)

Every backpacker's checklist I have ever read recommends that you bring, among many other things, some rope with you on your journey. Keep in mind that these lists are composed by the good people who work for Sports Chalet, REI, and other fine retailers who are in the business of getting you to buy as much gear as possible, regardless of its functionality or without consideration for weight. But having a length of rope seemed like a pretty good idea to me. It could be used to hang my backpack in a tree each night, I thought.

Of course, after the first two nights, I realized that I was usually too tired to hang the pack, and having a bear canister really defeated the need to do so anyway. Begrudgingly, I donated the rope to the Hiker Box at Red's Meadow (a small piece of a very generous donation, I might add). This then is the story of why I had to swallow my pride a little on that day.

The rope had actually become a real point of contention for me because it had been stolen, I believed by the airline. In the month or so before the trip I spent a lot of time gathering my gear and packing my pack exactly the way I wanted it. The rope I bought was so cool looking that I decided to put it on the outside of the pack so everyone could see how cool it was too. But I was a little worried that it would get lost so I tucked it behind my tent and sleep pad and cinched the drawstrings as tight as they would go. So you see, there is really no way that the rope could simply have "fallen" off my pack.

When I met my dad at Oakland Airport though, something was missing. At first I didn't know what it was. I had picked up my pack from the carousel and strapped it to my back. My dad and I had a lot of catching up to do, and that seemed to be my focus as we made our way out to the car. But in the back of my head something didn't seem right, and I was racking my brain about it. My pack just didn't look as cool as I remembered it looking.

Finally, it dawned on me...THE ROPE! THEY STOLE THE ROPE!

I asked my dad to take a look and he confirmed it. There was no rope.

For the next two days I was thinking nasty things about the people at South West, and ultimately made a special trip to go buy more, again, not really considering functionality, but rather, so my pack could look cool again.

It was a bitter pill to swallow a few days later then, when I realized that having it was a complete waste. The airline had done me a favor. I will never take rope, cool looking or otherwise, on a backpacking trip again.

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