Ode to Big Red/Senior Salsa/Big Fuego

Such a sucker.

I walked in to REI over a year ago with the sole intention of "just going to get fitted for a pack for when I can afford one and really need it."

Idiot.

REI is such a trap with its amazing return policy and spirit of adventure that permeates the boredom of every day life in the city. Pictures of accomplished bucket list activities everywhere, survivor tools and gadgets, and gear that looks so cool you find yourself making a mental note to quit school and become a river rafting guide or professional spelunker to attain them. Oh the web of tantalizing possibilities! This is where the spider of poverty is waiting to consume us.
It's no surprise then that I came out with a gloriously colored pack that very day for "just getting fitted". After spending hours with various straps and packs and measurements and trudging up and down the stairs... well, I just couldn't say no. The pack seemed to purchase my freedom and carry all my little future "some day" plans and turned itself into a ticket to make them possible (which it did). Scott had cut me a sweet deal, and I hugged Big Red (and my newly obtained poverty) out the store in the car and all the way home.
Best idiotic purchase I ever made. But because of that day I haven't gone back for myself. I'm afraid I'll walk out with a canoe.

For all the little road trips I used him for I FINALLY got some backpacking out of him with the perfect company. Two of my sisters and I headed to Clear Creek for a little get away with Leslie's granted notion of wearing dresses. Surprisingly comfortable. The Scotsmen are onto something with kilts.

I may find some qualms about this pack in the future, but for now, I am totally in love.

Here's to you, Big Red, and your many names.