What the hell鈥? wondered Bob Francis, who鈥檇 gone ahead with Luis鈥檚 dad to take photos fromthe far side of the river. He watched as the Urique Tarahumara pulled out plastic shopping bagsthey鈥檇 stashed under rocks the night before. Tucking their palias under their arms, they slippedtheir feet into the bags, pulled them tight by the handles, and began sloshing across the river,demonstrating what happens when new technology replaces something that has worked fine for tenthousand years: afraid of getting their precious Salvation Army running shoes wet, the UriqueTarahumara were hobbling along in homemade waders. 大星彩票走势图排列五 And now, except during official hours, I was entirely without control 鈥?without the influences of any decent household around me. I have said something of the comedy of such life, but it certainly had its tragic aspect. Turning it all over in my own mind, as I have constantly done in after years, the tragedy has always been uppermost. And so it was as the time was passing. Could there be any escape from such dirt? I would ask myself; and I always answered that there was no escape. The mode of life was itself wretched. I hated the office. I hated my work. More than all I hated my idleness. I had often told myself since I left school that the only career in life within my reach was that of an author, and the only mode of authorship open to me that of a writer of novels. In the journal which I read and destroyed a few years since, I found the matter argued out before I had been in the Post Office two years. Parliament was out of the question. I had not means to go to the Bar. In Official life, such as that to which I had been introduced, there did not seem to be any opening for real success. Pens and paper I could command. Poetry I did not believe to be within my grasp. The drama, too, which I would fain have chosen, I believed to be above me. For history, biography, or essay writing I had not sufficient erudition. But I thought it possible that I might write a novel. I had resolved very early that in that shape must the attempt be made. But the months and years ran on, and no attempt was made. And yet no day was passed without thoughts of attempting, and a mental acknowledgment of the disgrace of postponing it. What reader will not understand the agony of remorse produced by such a condition of mind? The gentleman from Mecklenburgh Square was always with me in the morning 鈥?always angering me by his hateful presence 鈥?but when the evening came I could make no struggle towards getting rid of him. Is any shoe manufacturer prepared to claim that wearing their running shoes will improve yourdistance running performance? Secretly, the Pescador was working on a little social-engineering scheme: by taking runners fromas many different villages as possible, he hoped to pit the Tarahumara against each other. Let themtear after each other, he figured, and win Leadville in the bargain. It was a shrewd plan鈥攁ndtotally misguided. If Fisher had known more about Tarahumara culture, he鈥檇 have understood thatracing doesn鈥檛 divide villages; it unites them. It鈥檚 a way for distant tribesmen to tighten the bondsof kinship and buddyhood, and make sure everyone in the canyon is in fine enough fettle to comethrough in an emergency. Sure it鈥檚 competitive, but so is family touch football on Thanksgivingmorning. The Tarahumara saw racing as a festival of friendship; Fisher saw a battlefield.