JUNE 20, 2013 | by Darcy Blake | Stick-walker, my alter-ego was excited to sit next to Charlie at the last women’s lunch because she told the best stick-walking story of all times!
Charlie was up at Silver Lake Campground, located just 50 miles east of Jackson, California. Nestled deep within the heart of the Sierra Nevada, just a short distance from the shores of Silver Lake, it is surrounded by spectacular hiking trails that go up into the mountains.
Charlie was with a large clan of hikers who don’t have PD. She had her walking-sticks, but she was a tad self-conscious, as not one single person in her party had them. As the group prepared to start hiking up the trail, she was biting her lip with anxiety as she timidly tucked her sticks behind her legs, hoping she was not too conspicuous.
Then, just as though the heavens parted, from the top of the steep hiking trail, billows of dust suddenly emerged. As the dust settled, she began to see fleeting slivers of shiny silver and black bursting out of the dust.
There emerged a fantastic sight, as though the Terracotta Warriors horse brigade had come to life. An army of stick-walkers. Yes, dozens of sticks! Marching down the hill like silver and black stallions, chests out and hooves high. And so, as if her wishes had come true, Charlie’s black cloud of insecurity lifted. With wrist dexterity to rival female world golf champ Stacy Lewis, (who incidentally once had scoliosis), Charlie whipped around those sticks, and pranced up the hill, to the marvel and admiration of her hiking partners. The moral of this story? You’ve got it! Pickup Stix!
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