minimalism

CT #17: Socks

It was once pointed out to me that, to a large degree, backpacking is just a matter of learning to go without.

We go without frequent showers, without flushing toilets, and without sinks and mirrors.

We go without beds at waist height, we go without sheets, and we go without pillows.

We go without cars. We go without electricity.

We go without a change of clothes. We often go without hot meals.

(This is part of what can make reentry so overwhelming. When you’re comfortable living with very few things, realizing you have living quarters just to house a bunch of stuff is a little traumatizing.)

Today, I decided to go without something else: socks. I’m tired of them falling down and bunching up. I’m tired of their seams. I’m tired of them making my feet hot.

Sometimes, the real gift of going without is to realize what you now have room to let it. But, in this case, all I’m likely to let in is the Colorado breeze and a few new calluses.