Home Sweet Home. Cold, Cold Home.

There's something entirely trippy about waking up on a mountain next to a volcano, playing outside in 70-degree sunshine,driving for two hours past waterfalls, getting on a plane and then, four hours later, landing in 32-degree Philadelphia. And walk into the house to a Christmas tree.

Don't worry, I will be boring you with pictures and tales of vacation adventures for weeks to come.

Now, though, it's time to do two backpacks worth of smelly laundry and then get up in the morning for a few hours on the trails to burn off some of that Imperial beer I chugged all week.