Tom and I climbed Borestone Mountain yesterday. It's not a long hike (about four miles round trip), but it's fairly strenuous, with a relentless uphill ascent through a stony forest and then some iron bars and rock scrabbling at the summit. Unfortunately, the mountain's website has decided to advertise this hike as "moderately strenuous" and "kid-friendly," as one kid cuttingly remarked on her way down the mountain. I suppose this publicity strategy is an attempt to increase traffic, but yesterday's result was a trail was full of slackers and carpers, including (1) the aforesaid kid, (2) a lady standing on a rock ledge and screaming at her tote-bag carrying husband ("I'M NOT GOING UP THAT!"), (3) two cheerful but tottery old ladies under the guidance of a strained and anxious slightly less elderly man, (4) a family of chain smokers, and (5) a boy with a football. I counted two hikers besides ourselves who were actually wearing hiking boots. One woman was wearing clogs, and one of the chain smokers made it all the way to the summit in saggy rapper pants and untied basketball shoes.