As the sun should have been setting last night, black billowy clouds rolled into paradise, and started to release life giving moisture. It's morning now and it is still pouring. Since today is my last day in paradise it fits my inner feelings perfectly.
John Steinbeck Writes, in "Travels With Charley", that a Journey is an individual with life.
I couldn't agree more. There is something about an adventure that is perfectly invigorating for my soul. An adventure is a creation of art that allows me to be creative and I decide how much color I want to add to the journey. Ultimately I decide what the journey looks like. I try to capture the journey in pictures, but for me the creation is burned deep inside me. Mishaps, differences in weather, tastes, and smells only sweeten the memories. For me the perfect journey is one with lots of unknowns and flexibility. Essentially I try to live a nice piece of art. Now that I've written this down I feel much better and the rain stopped. I'm off to the beach to soak up the last drops of color!
There are some definite perks to being the youngest! When my brothers and sisters were kids they got taken on vacation in a tent to Yellowstone. Now being the youngest and the only one not married of my brothers and sisters, family vacations are a little more... awesome.
Here are some shots of my wonderful parents. (Sometimes I think they bring me along just to be their photographer.)
Here is an excerpt from the book "Travels With Charley" by, my favorite author, John Steinbeck. "When I was young the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch... Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping. The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement bring an ancient shudder, a dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of the stomach high up under the rib cage. In other words I don't improve; in further words once a bum always a bum. I feel the disease is incurable."
According to John Steinbeck I am a bum and it isn't curable. So I will stop trying to fight the urge.
Here are a few pictures of my current adventure to the Big Island of Hawaii.
There is a spot in Southern Utah that scares me to death. It is a bridge that spans a gap of fifty feet, but the drop below is a thousand feet or more. The first time we drove over it was about five years ago in a foot and a half of snow. Ever since that day I have had nightmares of what we call "Hells Backbone." Here it is!
As we drove home I told my friends, "I think I was born to be a Turkey Hunter. I can even gobble like them and they gobble back!"
My friend Landon quickly replied, "That is because you are a Turkey." I am addicted to turkey hunting. The past few days might have been one of the most fun hunts I've ever been on, and I wasn't even hunting.
Thursday night was the highlight of the trip. Landon and I were hiking down an old abandoned logging road and every couple hundred yards we would do a hen call. Then we heard it, "gobble gobble." We immediately froze and ducked for cover. We hen called a few more times and the gobbler kept gobbling back, but he wasn't getting any closer. So I stayed put with the hen call and Landon put the sneak on the Gobbler. Every couple minutes I would hen call and the gobbler would gobble back, all the while Landon would sneak closer and closer. The whole event took about forty minutes, but finally the Gobbler decided to come in. He was strutting around and thought he was coming to get a new girl friend, but it was just us. We saw a bunch of Turkeys over the three days. I even had a few Gobblers gobble back at me when I gobbled. I can't wait to put in for the turkey hunt next year.
I am addicted to hunting with my GSP/ Brittany Spaniel mutt, Lady. I am a food snob, hunter, horseman, fisherman, student, beach worshiper, and a lover of good outdoor writing. If you are interested in advertising on my blog send me an email at email@example.com