Just a fast trip to spread a little pestilence

By this evening I’ll be waist deep in icy unclean water. It won’t have been that way before I arrived, but after I dip them big feet into all that fast moving pristine, it’ll make metam-sodium seem tame in the comparison.

The first of my “national average” 6 trips to the unspoilt – which will be unable to contain the greasy brown slick that comes off my outerwear, and will render all them nose-inna-air rarified fish into easy prey…

…or so I think.

I’ll be traveling incognito; Deerstalker set at a rakish angle, Meerschaum pipe with its well seasoned rosy-purplish tint, decked in Harris Tweed, and monocle clenched under the shade of manicured brow – offset with a hint of gayly colored ribbon affixing it to my starched uppers.

I’ll commiserate with the parking lot attendant – clucking my tongue in dismay at the appearance of discarded water bottles, empty beef jerky wrappers, and the really insidious invasives – capable of taking your legs out from under you at the run, leaving only the bloody fingernail marks disappearing into newly-murky water.

The Petrochemical Willard, with an entourage of polysyllabic pandemics in every vest pocket, defiler of the Untouched, and beloved of Sausage Dogs.