er. Elk County is your old-fashioned, no cell phone service, women in the kitchen, men go hunting for dinner type of town. They haven't realized that it's not 1950 and the US has progressed in many fields, especially with regards to women's roles. I had many a moment where I had to rethink the repercussions of punching a man carrying a remmington700 due to some...pointed remarks.
Larissa Hatch: a brief history. Back in 1989, Larissa Catherine was born to Denis and Elizabth Hatch. 2 years later, Jacqueline Theresa joins the family. 2 years later, well, mom and dad can't afford to have any more children. So, aside from pops there are no other males (except for Raif, my dog) in the immediate Hatch family. Well, my dad still wanted boys. So he did things like coach our softball team, take us fishing and make us hook our own bait (boy did we get over our fear for creepy crawlies really fast), encouraged us to join boyscouts (yes, not girlscouts-its called venture crew which is assoc. with BSA so stop arguing with me because i am not a girlscout), go hiking and stuff like that. Our dad even taught us some construction skills when we were building our house back in '95. Now don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty "girly" too. I'm a ballerina, my room is sickeningly tidy, and I change my earrings just as often as I do my underwear. 15 years after Larissa helped wire the new home, her father and Larissa (who has now taken several courses at Juniata College specifically focusing on gender studies) are on the previously mentioned backpacking trip, where her upbringing and current knowledge of gender issues makes it quite an interesting adventure.
Male elk are ani-man whores. The male elk, more commonly known as bull, prepare nearly all year for a less than 10 minute fight (referred to as a sparring match) which determines who owns the harem of cow (female elk). Most harems contain 20-50 cow, so no one fe
els special. The bull patrols the harem to make sure no one runs astray or tries to leave the herd. Submission by the harem, control by the bull...sound familiar?
Midday Saturday, my dad and I pass these two hunters. As common lovers of nature, it is only right to bid gooddday to these fellow hikers. These hunters went above and beyond the call of duty by addressing my father and my father only with "you know its hunting season right? you should be careful, especially with HER." and the "her" was so pointed, with such a negative conotation. They might as well have called me some profanity with such a tone in their voices. It is hunting season, but there are designated areas to hike and guess who was wrong. And we let just anyone carry a gun (thank you 2nd amendment). My dad will not start a fight for no reason so he kindly accepts their words of wisdom while my tounge is bleeding from biting it so hard (bite your tounge Laris, just they aren't worth it).
Here's my favorite. Scattered amongst the trail are homes of E
lk fanatics and those rich folk who have the luxury of having more than 6 homes spread throughout the country (I'm not bitter). By Sunday afternoon, I am exhausted. When I'm exhausted, I grow impatient and intolerant. We saw a little hunter's lodge with the sign "no doe club." Clever. I nearly chucked a hand grenade that I conveniently had in my back pocket.
After our successful 20.7 mile hike, we went to the new Elk visitors center. After some geocaching and a short film on the history of Pennsylvanian elk, I had to take a pitstop. Like any other public venue, the line for the women's restroom is excessively long. I got into this intense conversation with these two women about toilets. There really is a strategy to where they are located. We were talking specifically about how it is nearly impossible to find the women's bathroom at ballgames in football stadiums. Now I haven't done any extensive research on it or anything, but women's bathrooms are usually close to food venues. My logic would tell me that when a wife or girlfriend says she needs to go to the bathroom (and usually right when there is a big play she doesn't understand because girls just don't "get sports" right?), the male counterpart asks for another corndog or coors. Like I said, I haven't opened a full investigation, but my hypothesis has some probable cause to be accurate, no?
Now, amongst all of this, you have the usual door holding, eye rolling when they saw me pull up in a pickup, and uncomfortable whispering when I'm standing within a 3 feet and have incredibly good hearing. I could say I am used to it, and just brush it off, but then I wouldn't have such a good example of masculinity at its finest here in central PA.
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