I did part of the Appalachian trail back in ’87 and scratched up the gear for it on an impromptu basis. I loaded an Alice with as much instant oatmeal, dried fruit and salami and stuff as it would hold and hung everything else, sleeping bag, mat and whatnot, in stuff sacks strapped outside. For beverage I had instant coffee. There’s nothing like a lukewarm aluminum cup of instant oatmeal after walking six hours in the freezing rain, followed by a cup of black instant coffee, unless its crawling into your sleeping bag and just dropping off from exhaustion.

Comes a time when you dream of food. Any food. You get cumulatively hungry after a time on the road. One time I came into Lincoln, NH just as dark was falling and first thing I did was walk into a laundromat so I could clean out what I wore and wore. I think some Vietnam vet came in and saw the LC1 and said “I haven’t seen one of those in years”. Anyhow, I found an all night convenience store and bought about three pre-made sub sandwiches and a six pack of beer. I found a cheap motel and slept under a roof. Those 3 convenience store subs and the six pack tasted so good, I believe I poured the crumbs down my throat. Hunger is the best sauce.

Speaking of which, how widely it is overlooked that over the most of the terrain which Americans have had to fight on, how things like fruitcake, or crackers and peanut butter, or rehydrated hamsteak — stuff which is scoffed at, I suppose, by people who can eat better — actually represents an unimaginable luxury. There’s a website called http://www.greatdepressioncooking.com/Depression_Cooking/Welcome.html which has recipes from a time when people actually went hungry. Spam was a luxury in wartime Britain. It’s a luxury in many parts of the world even today.

Maybe I ate better than those three subs and that cheap beer, but nothing was ever as welcome. Here’s to the peaches and hard crackers. ‘Time held me green and dying, though I sang in my chains like the sea.’