The Hat

During the COVID-19 crisis, in addition to writing and revising my magnum opus, I’ve been doing a lot of hiking and mountain climbing. The other day, as I was leaving the house to hike a portion of the Appalachian Trail, I reached for my trusty hat.

I wore the hat while climbing Mount Washington and other mountains in my late teens and early 20s. I wore it caving a couple of times. I wore it during an epic 80s overnight road trip from New York to Chicago. I wore it hiking through Glacier National Park and Yellowstone. I wore it while fly fishing in New York, Vermont, Montana, Wyoming and Idaho. I wore it in the Grand Canyon, Zion National Park, and Bryce Canyon. I wore it in the Adirondacks, the White Mountains, the Green Mountains, and the woods of Maine. I wore it while boating on Great Sacandaga Lake and in the Penobscot Bay of Maine.

I’ve had a lot of adventures with this hat, and it just occurred to me that it’s over 30 years old. I got the thing when I was 17 or 18. Here are a few photos from some recent adventures with the hat:
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