OCR Text |
Show movement. Doughboy and Boy Scout Lead Way Just a brief survey of the rollicking groups which move oft" from the outlying out-lying terminals on holidays establishes estab-lishes a few general types. There Is the ex-service man and his friends who will hear from him the story of more serious excursions on the muddy roads of France. He tightens tight-ens a strap here and another there on the blanket roil adjustment or the "shelter half," In which the commissary commis-sary is packed for the mid-day feast by the roadside. Expert directions come from him on the method of slinging the pack so It will not feel so heavy or Interfere with the free body movement. He will pass along the Information gained In his army days, of how that same pack was evolved after numerous experiments to find the easiest way of carrying the heaviest load. With results he now compliments, but which he characterized char-acterized when a doughboy as a "blankety-blank total failure." Then there are the boy scout parties, par-ties, adept at everything pertaining to "shanks mare" traveling and woodcraft. wood-craft. The ex-service man and the boy scout are pioneers in the hiking game. Listen to one of them right off the train and making ready for a twelve mile Jaunt: "Get that canteen can-teen over to the side, Jimmie, and It won't keep bouncing off your leg every step. Is it filled? Well, then, we drink. How about the eats? Let's check 'em off. You got the spuds, Bill ; the bacon Jimmie. Who has the coffee and the Borden tin cow?" "Right here," announces a freckled comrade of the road, patting his knapsack. knap-sack. "Snitched the mocha and the can of milk when Sis wasn't looking." "Well, then, let's go !" snaps the commander of the expedition. This party is traveling light for real distance. Another must expect to make a shorter hitch or else be counting count-ing greatly on Its power of endurance. endur-ance. Perhaps the camp is not far off because the group is equipped for an over-night stay witn heavy blanket rolls, hatches, lanterns, canvas wa-terpails, wa-terpails, rubber ponchos, kettles, pots, new fangled firestand, etc., etc. The blankets are laid out for a better packing of the bags and cans of food. Then the party commences to load up the members bristle all over with camp tools and equipment. Back to the Farm The veteran from the crowded city tenement has found a new territory to roam and one almost unknown to his associates. He is introducing them to this newly discovered land and teaching them how to be Independent of any transportation but their own good legs and of any subsistence but what they can carry and prepare. "Walk, and cook your own," is his motto. Who will say the leaven thus fermenting fer-menting in the city crowds will not bear fruit in a keener appreciation of country delights, especially as these are added to by Increased comforts on the farm. With his radio hitched up, the farmer listens in on the best entertainment the country has to offer. Modern home devices wipe out many hardships formerly Imposed upon isolated dwellers. . There Is, in short, a rapid cutting down of the differential between farm and city life. In the meantime, knowledge must precede a true appreciation of what the country holds, and this is what the hike supplies. There is more appeal ap-peal in one apple tree In blossom than In reams of printed matter put out to induce the citizen of the city to change his abode to the country. The hikers constitute a growing army, equipped with bacon, spuds, coffee and tin cow for merely a day's outing but nevertheless seeing sights that make them yearn to be among them all the time. It Is not too much to assume that the army may one day recruit the open places. HIKING DOWN THE LONG BROWN PATH Vacationists With Shelter Tents and Tin Cow Learning to Walk All Over Again. Oh! It's not the pack that you carry on your back Nor the rifle on ynur shoulder, Nor the five inch crust of khaki-colored dust That makes you fee! your limbs are growing older: And it's not the hike on the hard turnpike That drives away your smile. Nor the socks of sisters that raise the blooming blisters It's the last long mile. Plattsburgh Marching Song. Stringing out from the suburban transit terminals of New York every Sunday and holiday goes the army of khaki-clad hikers. There may be an automobile for every twenty of the country's population, but a host of city folks disprove the theory of a future leg-enfeebled citizenry and are learning to walk all over again. To the more casual minded, the hike Is Just exercise, but to those who cntch its real significance the hike means a great deal more. It Is the cheapest form of recreation and therefore appeals to those living In crowded districts and unable to avail themselves of the more expensive amusements. And these people, be It noted, are .lust those the country Is so anxious to have spread out and settled In the farming sections. The hike, Indeed, has possibilities as a real starter for the "back to the farm" ' |