In Pennsylvania, there are farms around that have big corn fields. Catherine has guessed that they must plant their crop in such a way that it grows into 8 foot walls, creating a labirynth for farmers to charge six dollars a person to go on a stroll through. So we tried it, myself, Catherine, C., K., N., J., and A.. Catherine walked past the enter sign into the maze with an assertive aire, cluching the poorly rendered photocopied map. J. and A. followed her, and I resolved to walk at a K. and N. pace (half to one third the pace of A.). This obviously meant the group dividing and going their separate ways (C. became his own group, running frantically around with his digital camera, trying to make a little movie in the vein of 'the Blair Witch Project') Surprise, surprise, my group left the maze first, despite my affinity for intentionaly leading K. and N. to dead ends. Actually, my apparenet efforts to foil any attempts on the part of K. (N. said nary a coherant words the entire time we were in the maze. "Hey, N. Which direction do you think we should go?" and then he would either stare at you slack-jawed, or, if you're lucky, mutter the faintest response which careful ears could desipher as, "How am I supposed to know.") to get us out of the maze only fueled her desire to take control. We wound up going along the route outlined by the map, albeit at a very slow pace (which I am beginning to really enjoy walking at), and reached the exit a good five minutes before catherine, j. and a. When they emerged, I noticed Catherine looking rather frazzled, and upon inquisition learned that with each dead end their group found, her leadership skills were viciously scrutinized by A. "Do you even know where we're going, anyway?" or "Can't you read the map, anyway?" or an other mean sounding question with the word anyway after it. In all, it was a comfortable temperature outside with a pleasing cool breeze, and that's all I ask for.
In Pennsylvania, there are farms around that have big corn fields. Catherine has guessed that they must plant their crop in such a way that it grows into 8 foot walls, creating a labirynth for farmers to charge six dollars a person to go on a stroll through. So we tried it, myself, Catherine, C., K., N., J., and A.. Catherine walked past the enter sign into the maze with an assertive aire, cluching the poorly rendered photocopied map. J. and A. followed her, and I resolved to walk at a K. and N. pace (half to one third the pace of A.). This obviously meant the group dividing and going their separate ways (C. became his own group, running frantically around with his digital camera, trying to make a little movie in the vein of 'the Blair Witch Project') Surprise, surprise, my group left the maze first, despite my affinity for intentionaly leading K. and N. to dead ends. Actually, my apparenet efforts to foil any attempts on the part of K. (N. said nary a coherant words the entire time we were in the maze. "Hey, N. Which direction do you think we should go?" and then he would either stare at you slack-jawed, or, if you're lucky, mutter the faintest response which careful ears could desipher as, "How am I supposed to know.") to get us out of the maze only fueled her desire to take control. We wound up going along the route outlined by the map, albeit at a very slow pace (which I am beginning to really enjoy walking at), and reached the exit a good five minutes before catherine, j. and a. When they emerged, I noticed Catherine looking rather frazzled, and upon inquisition learned that with each dead end their group found, her leadership skills were viciously scrutinized by A. "Do you even know where we're going, anyway?" or "Can't you read the map, anyway?" or an other mean sounding question with the word anyway after it. In all, it was a comfortable temperature outside with a pleasing cool breeze, and that's all I ask for.
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing your adventure with us, Chris and Catherine!
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