This morning at 0710 a.m. I picked up two lucky (head up) pennies in the parking lot of the Kamas, Utah, Foodtown. I toss my lucky pennies into the Team Cruise Fund jar; there must be three or four hundred of them mixed in with the twenty pounds of bills and change by now.
Lucky pennies are usually... lucky. I won't touch a tails- up penny, not even a wheatback.
I spent lunch breaking trail through knee and thigh deep snow trying to make it back to the top of the hill where I had stashed my snowshoes, and thence further up back to my truck.
Funny how fifty degrees and a few hours of sunlight will turn a nice icy surface into three to four feet of semi-frozen shit, isn't it? I had to flat crawl the last couple of hundred feet. The experience was disturbing. The thought "Am I getting too old for this?" loomed large in my mind for a good while afterward.
I'll still pick up the pennies. I just won't feel the same about the act as I did before.
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