When a guy from southeast Minnesota makes a promise, you can take it to the bank he’s gonna keep his word. Take my young friend Soda Pop. I met up with him in northern Washington.
He seemed normal enough for a thru-hiker: Lean, long red beard. Hikes faster than a Porsche. But then something weird happened. He’s pulling stuff out of his pack one day at camp, and out pops what appears to be a volleyball. “What the hell is that?” I ask politely. “It’s a ball,” he answers. Did I mention that southeast Minnesotans are quite literal?
“Got it,” I said. “But what’s it doing in your pack?” Soda Pop carries a bigger pack than most thru-hikers, about 70 liters. But even so this ball must have occupied about 30% of the pack’s total volume. That’s enough room for a lot of food, warm clothes, even a bottle of Jack Daniels.
“I promised to carry this ball to the Canadian border if I lost a bet I made with a friend in Cascade Locks,” said Soda Pop.
“Were you drinking?”I responded.
“Perhaps a little,” he answered. Two days later, Soda Pop bounced his ball back and forth between the US and Canada. Nice trick.
The lesson here: If a tall red-headed guy from southeastern Minnesota makes a bet with you to jump off the Empire State Building, please, just say no.