Except when I'm in the mountains. Every person we pass on the trail gets eye contact and a, "Howdy." Why a "Howdy?" Because "Howdy" is a lot more welcoming than, "Hello, good sir or madam. How are you today?" yet still conveys the same sentiment. My kids ask how I can be so outgoing on the trail while being a virtual recluse in the real world.

It's all about shared experience. I'm on a trail. They're on the trail. A big part of it is also the trivial nature of the interaction. Neither I nor they have much invested in the interaction and it's quickly forgotten. At most I'll ask about trail conditions further along.

It works on the summit, too. I rolled up on the Mailbox summit where four others were looking at the clouds closing in. It was pretty clear there'd be a storm soon. Three of us talked about deep and meaningful topics including the weather and the trail conditions. Deep. Then the rain and sleet began pelting us from the east and we quickly busied ourselves to head down.

Once I regained the cover of the trees below the open slopes I stopped to take off my puffy and put on a dry shirt. Another hiker was there doing the same. That discussion got way more in depth and covered that the hike was hard, volcanoes would be climbed in the summer, and we both wished the other a good trip down. We leap-frogged all the way to the trailhead, but didn't talk much more.

Since I'm on my way down at the time normal people are on their way up I often exchange pleasantries with a large number of people. Even though I "met" 20 or 30 people on the hike I had meaningful conversations with only one and that was Treen.

So if you see me on a hike and I only say, "Howdy," it's not because I'm being anti-social. In fact, you're getting me at my most social. Ask me something else about hiking and then brace yourself. I might look away and say, "Have fun," as we part ways.