Ray W.

A recent hike (scramble) into the mountains above Vancouver, Canada turned into a trip from hell. The theme of the day was arrogance, and the condescending remarks began 20 minutes after the meetup group left the parking lot.
The leader of the group was an older guy who didn't seem to be lacking in any social skills, until he attempted to 'educate' the newest member by barking "listen to what I'm saying" less than 30 minutes in. The pearl of wisdom he couldn't wait to share was simply the trail marker. Certainly worth a little awkwardness, I guess.
Never mind that I'd done this same scramble 3 times before. He heard me tell him that. In fact, he only allowed me to join his group because he felt I had enough experience and the right temperament to fit in. Who would have guessed?
An hour later the next lesson was on how to pack an appropriate lunch. Something you'd teach your children, but hey, any information is good information, right?
And on it went. Lessons on how to be a responsible parent, while hiking of course. From childless master to student with two boys. No matter. And then something about how to avoid pushing people beyond their limits, 'appropriate' trail conversations, other such stimulating topics. And all following the theme of arrogance.
Yes indeed, this man had very admirable leadership skills. It must have him taken years to master them, no doubt!
So, finally, nearing the summit, comes the "first real lesson" from master to student. Wind. Yes, that's right, wind. The almight power of wind. The make or break point. How did he say it? "Let me give you your first real lesson."
All prior lessons were rubish, I guess. This was the key you couldn't get anywhere else but from his lips. "Always pay attention to the wind." It's not that I didn't agree. I just couldn't see how anyone might think it was 'my first real lesson.' Crazy me, I guess.
The final straw broke me completely. I totally lost it. We met two young hikers going up as we descended to about a quarter the way down the trail. His commanding 'advice' was to turn around because they simply could not managed it before darkness fell. He seemed to resign his position when they shrugged him off, until of course, in my foolishness, I wished them good luck. Absolutely unacceptable! How dare I do such a thing! Their life was now in my hands, according to my new lord commander. If I'd had a light saber at that point, well, I'm not sure what might have happened. Instead a rapid succession of four letter words spewed out. Verbal diarrhea!
Damn it! Why couldn't I give him a smack down like in the movies, 'yo mamma' style! Pathetic really. Sad. He was the level headed one now, and I was crazy. Nobody coming to my defense! Definitely not his mostly silent and agreeable hiking buddy!
Wake up call. Time to join a debate club!