o. 1. To be sure, I did not use
it on this particular trip; but in other conditions I might need it
every day."
[Sidenote: The Philosophy of Duffle]
So you take it, and keep on taking it, and once in a great while you use
it. Then some day you wake up to two more bits of camp philosophy which
you formulate to yourself about as follows: _An article must pay in
convenience or comfort for the trouble of its transportation_; and
_Substitution, even imperfect, is better than the carrying of special
conveniences_. Then he hurls said Patent Dingbat into the nearest pool.
[Sidenote: Patent Dingbats]
That hits directly at the weak point of the sporting catalogues. Every
once in a while an enthusiast writes me of some new and handy kink he is
ready to swear by. It is indeed handy; and if one could pluck it from
the nearest bush when occasion for its use arose, it would be a joy and
a delight. But carrying it four hundred miles to that occasion for its
use is a very different matter. The sporting catalogues are full of very
handy kinks. They are good to fool with and think about, and plan over
in the off season; but when you pack your duffle bag you'd better put
them on a shelf.
Occasionally, but mighty seldom, you will find that something you need
very much has gone into pile No. 3. Make a note of it. But do not be too
hasty to write it down as part of your permanent equipment.
[Sidenote: You Must Not Mind Getting Wet Sometimes]
The first summer I spent in the Sierras I discovered that small noon
showers needed neither tent nor slicker. So next year I left them home,
and was, off and on, plenty wet and cold. Immediately I jumped to the
conclusion that I had made a mistake. It has not rained since. So I
decided that sporadic heavy rains do not justify the transportation of
two cumbersome articles. Now when it rains in daytime I don't mind
getting a little wet--for it is soon over; and at night an adequate
shelter can be built of the tarpaulin and a saddle blanket. In other
words the waterproofs could not pay, in the course of say three-days'
rain in a summer, for the trouble of their transportation during four
months.
As I have said, the average man, with the best intentions, will not go
too light, and so I have laid especial emphasis on the necessity of
discarding the unessential. But there exists a smaller class who rush to
the opposite extreme.
[Sidenote: Another Sort of Tenderfoot]
We all know the type.
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