Yum, Mt. Dew! And you should see all them ultralight hikers, who always seem to look at me in the strangest ways, like when they finally show up at the next shelter that is something like 26 miles from the last one that we had all left together earlier that day, and there I am, a 60 something long haired old hippy sitting at the picnic table with his two liters of heaven / Mt. Dew, a flask filled with old Jim Bean, smoking a fat one while enjoying another wonderful setting of the sun way up high in the mountains! And yeah, all those how the F did he beat us again being clearly displayed on all their young faces is always that priceless! And yep, that really has nothing to do with me, it's the Mt. Dew, that shit is like rocket fuel, so I have to say again, yum!