My First Time

“Funny, you can use alot of sexual comment in relation to backpacking but not be talking about sex at all. I love it. I was on here last week asking everyone about packing w/ a baby and packing in MT. I went on my first trip. It was nice, there were hotsprings at the end to soak in, and I basically like this sport. The down side, I am not up for any straight up the frickin' mtn. deathmarches. Also, TarpRat has some weird poetry. I mean it just plain scares me.”

“Tarpie is friendly. Just don?t feed him.

How did the little one do?”

“Tarpie scares a lot of us.

Glad your first experience was fun.”

“If you aren't afraid of TR, you really have something to worry about.”

“Didn't take the littlest packer this time, ken. I wanted to know how I would do before I took her w/ me. I think I need to stick to some short trips for awhile and not too much weight on my back though. I wasn't all that sore and only slightly pissed off (which ended quickly). What makes Tarpie tick? I mean the guy is really scary.”

“What is w/ all the poems and song lyrics on these other threads? I guess I am just new, but it is strange-city. What are all these people doing w/ their time? Typing entire songs? I am definitely avoiding work here, but that is time sucking for sure.”

“Welcome aboard...

Did you just call BP'ing a sport?

Cut and Paste has helped make some of us look loke we have degrees in slacking.

Why were you pissed off? I guess that's better than being pissed on. HarHar!”

“LOL They do not type them--they cut and paste. Live and learn??”

“Waste time on trail talk. Surely you jest. I have a pet snake. He likes to bite and sting. What do you think about this?”

“Newgirl --

Took me a while to digest the song lyric thing and thing Kleent showed me the light . . .copy and paste.

Using "google" as a search engine you can type in most any song title or artist (in quotes) add a comma, type in "lyrics" and you will get a number of hits.”

“Apropos of your thread title:

Feels Like The First Time -- Foreigner


I would climb any mountain
Sail across a stormy sea
If that's what it takes me baby
To show you how much you mean to me
And I guess it's just the woman in you
That brings out the man in me
I know I can't help myself
You're all in the world to me

It feels like the first time
Feels like the very first time
It Feels like the first time
It Feels like the very first time

I have waited a lifetime
Spent my time so foolishly
But now that I've found you
Together we'll make history

And I know that it must be the woman in you
That brings out the man in me
I know I can't help myself
You're all that my eyes can see

And it feels like the first time
Like it never did before
Feels like the first time
Like we've opened up the door
Feels like the first time
Like it never will again, never again

Feels like the first time, it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time, very, very, it feels
It feels like the first time, oh it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time

Open up the door, won't you open up the door? Yeah

Feels like the first time
And it feels like the very first time
And it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time

And it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time
Oh it feels, it feels like the first time
Yeah it feels like the first time”

“

MY FIRST TIME

The Moon was full,
The night stood still,
I walked to her
And felt the night's cold chill.
I looked in her eye,
And held her in my arms,
I was ready for her now,
Ready for her golden charm.
I loved her a lot,
And I cared so much,
It seemed like she
Was much more than a crush.
I knew it was time,
So I took off my shirt,
I touched her soft breast,
And saw the white soft squirt.
I had a good time,
During that passionate night,
The rest I can't tell,
But do it again, I might.
It was my first time,
It's all over now,
It was my first time...
MILKING A COW.

(cut and pasted)”

“THE FIRST TIME (by Ewan MacColl)
taken to the charts by Roberta (remember her) Flack


The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the night and the empty skies my love
To the night and the empty skies

The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth turn in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command my love
That was there at my command

The first time ever I lay with you
And felt your heart beat close to mine
I thought our joy would fill the earth
And would last 'till the end of time my love
And would last 'till the end of time

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the night and the empty skies my love
To the night and the empty skies”

“Hey newgirl,

I will explain everything to you,

I do whatever I want, when I want, you can't do anything about it, you would love me if you met me, but you most likely never will, and that is your loss.”

“Hello New Girl.

They are right about Tarpy, you'll learn to appreciate the wit. Now, as for talking about sex and not relating it to backpacking, I am your man. Although I might be breaking some biblical rule in Leviticus, and inviting eternal damnation (see Dr. laura Thread), I am willing to talk!”

“Switchback, I did call bping a sport, is that wrong? I was pissed off, because my experience friends took me straight up a mtn. on a 1/2 mile deathmarch for the last part of the hike. But at the end I got to soak in a hotspring, so all is well. I much more enlightened now that I know about cutting and pasting songs. Thanks to everyone, we all have to learn somewhere! ThunderTrain, I have no opinion on your snake. TarpRat, did not mean to offend. Your wit is great in a scary way. I'm sure I would love you in real life. Hiking Bear, I'd love to talk about sex related or unrelated to backpacking anytime you're up for it. I doubt God punishes us for speaking on the subject. This really is lots of fun.”

“Will you marry me New Girl?”

“I just never heard of it called a sport before. I guess I don't think of it as being competitive. There are millions of reasons to go backpacking, maybe that's one I hadn't come across yet.”

“Careful, to some "backpacking" is a sexual comment.”

“it isn't?”

“You want to know what makes Tarpie tick? Are you nuts, or have you gone nuts? It ain?t a pretty story, and I only stole a little bit of it, but here is ?

Years ago, he went by the name ATBackpacker. He eventually changed his name to Tarp Rat because he was rat-like, and he slept under a tarp (that was before he got his bivy). The reason he slept under a tarp was that without the tent, his pack weighed about a hundred pounds, and he was only one forty himself, so he left his tent at home in favor of a tarp and the kitchen sink.

Tarpie once posted a picture of himself bent under a pack about twice his size. In the photograph, he was shown in a semi-profile position, emphasizing the pooched-out succulents of his insolate, pouting, tarp -- the sight of which drove an aspiring young graduate Mad With Desire.

In an effort to please his newfound friend, Tarpie learned to spell ?you?re,? but to no avail: she left him for somebody named Bob who was more discrete, didn?t eat as much, and smelled better.

On his twenty-first birthday Tarpie began a drinking career. He started off on burgundy, but soon hit the harder stuff. Before long, he had totaled his truck, lost his driver?s license, gotten banned from Solomon?s Island, and his grandmother cut off his allowance.

One day, while Tarpie dejectedly walked along Wisconsin Avenue on his way to work, a truck hit a bump and a box of cliff bars fell off. He quickly tucked the box under his shirt and ducked into the Friendship Heights Metro Station. He tore the wrapper off his first cliff bar, and with trembling hands, began to eat. He was promptly arrested by the Metro Police for Eating in a Station and hauled off to Vienna.

That was his first brush with the law. Naturally, they were easy on him. They gave him a donut and told him to stick closer to church-oriented activities and sent him back to Bethesda.

Temporarily sobered by his ordeal, Tarpie began to study religion. He fashioned a hair-shirt, self-flagellated, and refused to speak. He agreed to speak again and stop the flagellation when his grandmother enticed him with an offer of resumed allowance. When the allowance was increased, the hair-shirt was also removed (and burned by Grandma).

Disillusioned, Tarpie longed for a Planet he could call Home. He needed a Mantra. He turned toward the East and again found religion. He checked out the Books on Tape version of Buddhism Explained from the Montgomery County Public Library, but fell asleep while listening to it. His upstairs neighbor was playing The Best of the Doors too loud on the stereo while Tarpie slumbered, so a combination of Buddha, Morrison, lithium, and THC swirled in his brain. It may have been Tarpie who passed out on that couch, but it was Wild Child who awoke.

With what sounded like a Hail Mary, Wild Child headed to the Rockville Trading Post to purchase his first gun. He hitched a ride to the George Washington National Forrest and spent three days in the woods looking for skeet to shoot. Although he did find some tracks, Wild Child came home from his skeet hunt empty-handed and hungry. He had a cliff bar. He liked it. He had another. Then he had an idea. The kitchen sink in his pack accounted for sixty of the one hundred pounds. Tarp Rat needed a sink, but Wild Child did not. He threw the sink into his neighbor?s flowerbed, packed sixty pounds of cliff bars, his new gun, and headed north to Pennsylvania to have a little talk with Bob.

He arrived at his old flame?s dormitory and demanded to speak to Bob. ?Bob died? his friend said tearfully. Trying hard not to smile, Wild Child feigned sympathy and asked if there was anything he could do to ease her pain. ?Be a dear and go get me a box of batteries? was the reply.

As Tarpie walked home, he heard the sound of an electric toothbrush as he passed under his friend?s window. ?So much for Bob?She brushing her teeth for me? he thought.

The first thing Tarpie did when he got home was shower, which was a mistake, because that washed off all of his passwords. CX was born.

CX was a vegan version of Wild Child. He filled the void left empty by pork and squirrel with Prozac, Ritalin, and more THC. Things were not looking good. CX rode his bicycle to the Hudson Bay Outfitters in Gaithersburg to apologize to the staff, but all he succeeded in doing was vomiting on the varnished hardwood hiking staffs. He ended up thrown out into Frederick Road in a heap as usual.

Tarpie eventually recovered his passwords. Then he snorted the rest of the Prozac and Ritalin and headed to the AT to await enlightenment. The metro police picked him up again. Tarpie had only made it as far as the Silver Spring Station, where they found him naked in a yoga position under what he insisted was a kapok tree. It was really the escalator.

Tarpie now resides at Saint Elizabeth?s Hospital. He thinks that he?s a mortgage banker. The staff lets him use the computer if he takes his medication.”

“LOL Ken,...that took some doing, but it was worth reading.

What a hoot.......”

“That was excellent, ken! I thought for sure it was gonna be Dr. Laura or AmyG. Hee, hee. Too funny.

newgirl, Glad to hear it went well and you want to continue.

I think Hiking Bear is another alias for Tarpie. I can't imagine anyone out there so sick as to admire Tarpie. Eee gadz!”

“I am my own person, tarp back me up here. And Thanks for the history Ken. Normally I don't read the long threads, but I'm glad i read that one!”

“That was great Ken
>GRIN<”

“Someone keeps mentioning my name.




Only 1/2 mile? That's no deathmarch. That's a sprint.”

“ken,

that is possibly the best post that i have ever read on this site. freakin' HIIIILarious!!!!!”

“Glad y?all liked my story. I stole two of the wisecracks from Zappa and one from Dylan. I hope Tarpie isn?t offended. I once wrote a funny story about Nigal and he got all mad.”

“there is no accounting for taste.”

“ROTFLMAO!!!! :oD”

“I REALLY enjoyed that post, ken, but if I were you, I'd be out buying silver bullets. Tarpy ain't Nigal.”

“Who has the time to read ALL those long posts -
especially when they're off the subject of the thread? Sorry Ken... mebbe later.

newgirl -
Give us a report!
I'll be driving the length of MT - east to west - in July, and would love to read about where you went, what you did, what you saw, etc, so's maybe I can put that location on my to-do list...
I'll DEFINITELY put it on my fantasy list!”

“Ken, take your communist manifesto and shove it up your ass!


















Tarpy axed me to post that in response to your story. He would also like to know if he lives happily ever after...?”

“come on, gojo. smell the roses, man!”

“How the !$%& do you know all that !$%& about me?

Who is Bob?

How do you know all the Metro stops in my area?

Especially the part about Hudson "Trail" Outfitters? Why would I appologize?

What are you a spy?”

“we ALL know, tarpy.

we are a collective.

only YOU are YOU.

dead pool odds 1:1.”

“Like there's not a DOG around here who posts some pretty long-winded stuff. BOL!”

“LOL!!!!”

“Tarp, I get bored, I read Trail Talk. You?re a colorful character and a frequent poster. Bob is an acronym that another here has mentioned. I was born and raised in your area, although I do not live there now. A while back you posted something where you said that the manager of the Hudson ?Trail? (sorry about that) Outfitter was an ass or something like that. I assumed that there might have been an argument. I am not a spy but just a poor bored fellow.”

“All right! Bacpac, Rad, Walkindude...Ken is one of us!”

“Thanks Kleetn. Are you the fraternity of poor bored fellows? I?d be happy to join as long as there are no weird initiation rites.

Thank you, sir, may I have another!”

“Yeah there was an argument that involved me spending the evening in the slammer! Who knew you couldn't walk out the back door with TNF
G-tex Jackets, sheeesh!”

“Yeah rad, it is looking like een money on tarpy right now. However, with the near alcohol poisoing I almost inflicted upon myself last night, my odds are creeping up as well.

Tarp Rat 1:1
Hiking Bear 3:1”

“Hiking Bear, I'd be glad to marry to you. Ahhh, if only I knew you. Where ya' from? Also, the "Tale of Hiking Bear" broke my heart. I, too, have similar pain. I've got a wonderful daughter to help, though! ken, I'm am so relieved to know the whole truth behind Tarpie. Incredible! Gojo, that spot is actually in Idaho. I can tell you of some beautiful MT spots, though. I can even give them in an east to west order (I live in the eastern part of the state at present, but have lived on the western side as well). Let me know if you want the info.”

“Do you like potatoes?”

“Switchback, I don't think of bping as competitive either. Is a sport only a sport if the point is to kick other's asses or can a sport just be a challenge with one's self?”

“ken-
That was the funniest. Guess I'll be unemployed and bored now too since my boss caught me laughing my ass off while working on my reports.


newgirl-
Backpacking would only be a sport if you had someone trying to tackle you as you hiked uphill. No contact - not a sport.”

“Is sex a sport?”

“Violin, why can't a sport be something that is challenging? There's no such thing as full contact golf and it's consider a sport. There's no such thing as full contact tennis and it's consider a sport. Tarp Rat, according to Violin's description of sport, yes, sex is a sport. I mean there pretty much has to be contact.”

“Golf and tennis are activities, not sports.

Sex is definately a sport.”