What aches and pains?

A year ago I was recovering from a backpacking trip through the Bob Marshall Wilderness.
The eight-day, 90-mile trek took a toll on my aging carcass.
My knees still ache.
I realize, however, that aches and pain won’t dissipate with age, and whether I remain active or not, I’ll still hurt.
So I’m hoping to at least have something to show for my pain, like blistered feet, a sunburned neck or sore shoulders from hauling in fish.
My father quit hunting and fishing 15 years before he died. He had bad knees and an aching back. I think he thought retiring to the couch would alleviate the pain.
It didn’t. He hurt as much in his inactivity as when he used to stay busy.
But he never caught another fish or shot another bird out of the sky.
His was not a generation that worked out to stay in shape. He had survived the Great Depression, fought in a world war and never ever considered joining a health club. He worked to raise a family, not to tighten up his abs.
My generation has had it considerably easier. We’ve suffered little hardship and now find ourselves bewildered with the pain aging brings.
There’s a pill, it seems, for every ailment -- no matter how minor -- and a surgery for every worn out joint. Fly fishermen get rotator cuff surgery, joggers have their knees replaced and bird watchers, unable to tolerate the inconvenience of eye glass any longer, seek relief with Lasix surgery.
I suppose it all beats going to the couch, but being a bit a skeptic, I doubt there’s really much a cure for what ails me, or most of us, other than the grave.
And who wants to accept that?
So we pop our pills and ride our stationary bicycles, schedule appointments with the doctor to discuss surgery and wonder how our parents lived so long living they way they did.
I doubt I’ll live any longer than my folks. Mom died at 83 and Dad, who smoked, drank and got his only aerobic exercise while mowing the lawn, lived to be 90.
I simply hope to hunt and fish until the end. Heading to the couch isn’t one of the options I’m considering.
For the time being, I’m just going to suck it up, learn to cast right-handed, walk with a limp and squint to clear my vision.
Hopefully I’ve got a few years left to consider the modern wonder of pills and surgery.
Parker Heinlein is at pman@mtintouch.net