“It’s the vortex,” Vick told me. “Just another 15 minutes.” We were sitting in the Crossroads Hiker Hostel in the late afternoon, listening and singing along to records as Ronan played his ukulele on the couch. I checked the time on my phone, becoming increasingly anxious to get back on the trail before the sun went down. But the vortex (the inertia to stay in town and enjoy the fruits of civilization) had sucked my hiking buddies in, and there was no leaving until they were satisfied.
After a big and welcome breakfast, Kelly had given us and a few other hikers a ride into town to resupply. The Dollar General was well-stocked, and in addition to backpacking food we each bought a quart of ice cream to scarf down in the parking lot outside. Back at the hostel we ran into Bubblewrap and Pioneer, the perfect excuse to hang around the large backyard drinking beer.
I eventually coaxed Vick and Ronan into leaving, and after getting dropped off at the trailhead they continued on singing as we hiked. In fact they were so distracted by belting out classic tunes that they took a wrong turn. I was some distance behind them and (being in a more sober mind) followed the correct path, but when I arrived at our planned campsite there was no sign of my friends. It was getting dark and my muscles burned from the previous day’s death march, so I decided to cook a pouch of instant potatoes and find them in the morning.
Russell on the Road 