Toothbrush Cutter

Before I get to my actual post, I would like to say that I am perfectly happy just at this moment because:

1. I'm eating Whoppers.
2. My son pooped this evening without medical intervention. Plums are a mom's best friend.
3. My mouse was so horrible, but I just took it apart and cleaned all the crap out of there, and now its moving as smoothly as Nathan. Aaaah.

I'm a cheap date, I know.

"Toothbrush cutter" is a term used to describe a backpacking purist. A person who will go to great lengths to save even a fraction of an ounce of weight, including taking a hacksaw to her toothbrush. My dad is a toothbrush cutter ("Why would we need two potatoes? There are only six of us; one potato's enough."); Simon and I used to be. Now, we are hypocrites. True, we cut our toothbrushes, but we will be taking two apples and two oranges. Oranges are an insane luxury. Carry the peel in, carry the peel out. Suspend the fragrant, varmint-attracting peel 15 feet in the air at night.

Are we planning a backpacking trip or having a marriage encounter session? Who is this guy? In a different epoch of our life together (namely, before kids), Simon and I backpacked all the time, and there was no need to negotiate or compromise. We knew the drill. We haven't done this since I was pregnant with Sara, though. He's changed. He is not the man he was.

Evidence. Exhibit A:

"OK, lunches. What should we take?"
"What did we use to take?"
(What am I , the historian?) "Hardtack and margarine."
"That's all!?"
"Uh...dried fruit. Apricots, pears..."
"I don't like dried fruit."
"Since when? You used to eat dried fruit."
"I ate it, but I never liked it. Let's take fresh fruit."
"Fresh fruit!? Do you have any idea how much that WEIGHS?"
"I know how much it weighs. If you like, I will carry the fruit."
[suspiciously] "What kind of fruit were you thinking about?"
"Apples, oranges."
"Oranges!?!" [At this point, I pass out.]

He would say that I have also changed with the passing of time.

"Breakfasts?"
"Oatmeal?"
"No more oatmeal. I used to put up with eating that mushy s***, but I'm done gagging down oatmeal."
"So, what are you going to eat for breakfast?"
[perkily] "Clif bars!"
"That's all!?"
"Coffee!"

I think he wants to take a ridiculous amount of toilet paper. He thinks my rain gear is too heavy. Tomato, tomahto. Potato, potahto. But we're not going to call the whole thing off. We have successfully managed to negotiate eating utensils (2 tablespoons, one fork to share, one teaspoon to share), after all. Score one for the home team. We're getting our s*** together in the basement, so we don't have a last minute scramble to pack after I get home from work late Thursday night.




We need to get an early start on Friday morning. The trail head is on the North Slope, which means we have to drive up through Evanston, WY to get there, then drive quite a way on unpaved roads. Tonight, besides cutting my toothbrush, I oiled my hiking boots, water-proofed my stuff sack (rain in the Uintas in August is almost guaranteed) and sharpened the knife.

Soon, the only big questions left will be:

1. Will I get to the top of King's Peak without chickening out?
2. Will the weather cooperate at least a little and not send a bunch of lightning just as we're about to reach the peak?
3. (The really big question) Is there any way in hell I can manage to smuggle Harry Potter along? It's on my nightstand right now, driving me insane with anticipation. No. Must...resist... Still, I can't stop myself thinking...Weight? About the same as two oranges....