God, I stink.  I really smell.  And everyone around me smells.  We all smell.  We, collectively, are an aromatic bunch of human secretions and expelled bacteria-rich water vapor.  It’s Day 6 of my 24 day John Muir Trail thru-hike and I need a shower.  Not to say I haven’t been squeaky-clean on the trail: every night after I set my tent up, I jump into whatever body of water is nearby (I prefer rivers and streams, but a lake will do… although I find the water to be more stagnant… and fish-filled… and tadpole-heavy) fully clothed in my hiking clothes and I rinse off every bit of dust I can.  Then, I pull myself and out like a sexy swimmer coming out of a swimming pool.   (I try… but I mostly look like a wet cat.)  I pull off my clothes, hit them against the rocks, wring them out, jump back in the water, rub my hair and skin with water, and like Venus on a half-shell, emerge… squeaky clean.  Well, enough.  I now am swatting mosquitoes away as I dry quickly with my shammy towel (cut down to the size of a palm to save weight) and I’m pulling little wigglies from my hair and god, I hope I pulled them from my nether regions.  So bloody, damp, and squeaky-clean.

Somehow that is not enough.  I am currently sitting at the Mammoth Lakes library using their internet.  (I have to keep in touch.  I freelance.  I need to keep up my contacts.)  And I notice, I am just not ‘fragrant’.  I’m… human smelling at most.  Faint.  But human-y.  Shall I even say, game-y?  Soap has barely touched me and if I smell of anything, it must be the bug-repellant/sunscreen. 

But humans don’t want to smell human anymore.  No. We smell like brand names.  Irish Spring.  Bed Head.  Pantene.  We smell like our money: Aquanet if you’re poor, Jose Eber if you’re rich.  We smell like Downy because we grew up with it, or Snuggles because we want to smell like a teddy bear.  We smell like the perfume of the moment (don’t ask me what it is, cuz I really don’t know)… and 12 year old boys are now spraying Axe cuz they like how girls realize he’s old enough to wear Axe.

And yet, the most sexy smell I have ever known, is the faint scent of the phermonally charged human.  It’s a quick scent.  It’s the scent of after you’ve just ran for 30 minutes and are just building a sweat.   It’s the smell of that other person’s breath next to your mouth before a kiss.  It’s the smell of post-sex.  There is no recreating it.  There is no bottle or car freshener marked ‘human scent’.  That scent is like a fingerprint.  Faint and personal… unmarketable. 

In any case, I need a shower in order to fit into society… even just to use the internet.