| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Jen |
Posted - Sep 12 2008 : 5:02:39 PM
I tell my kids that adventure is any experience in which you go beyond the bounds of comfortable everyday life and do something a little different. It will likely bring moments of discomfort—maybe even downright misery—but it can also make you stronger, braver, smarter, wilder. It'll remind you that you CAN. And, if nothing else, you'll come away with a story to tell. Adventure, I believe, is life's essence.
Every day has adventurous potential. Flat tires, thunderstorms, a walk in the park, you name it. Anything can happen. But sometimes you need to go farther out on a limb, out to where you can get a bird's eye view on the rest of your life. Suddenly, you see the parts that are all cluttered up and the spaces that need filling. Something about being out on that limb, clutching on when the wind starts to blow, helps you focus when you climb back down. At least that's what adventure does for me.
Last week, my family and I ventured out of our cozy little day-to-day rut and drove to Colorado in search of elk. We started a tradition of family elk hunting when we lived in Washington, and it's a ritual we don't want to lose. Our main goal is to get away from home and rough it out where TV is forgotten in favor of sticks, stones, and animal tracks. Bringing home an elk is, well, kind of a bonus. Three out of four years, my husband killed one, and we ate like royalty through the winters that followed. So, in hopes of adding another notch to our belts, we decided to head to the nearest huntable elk country we could find.
But between my husband's last minute tetanus shot and our toddler catching a cold, I almost backed down. Maybe not this year, I thought, maybe never. I kept packing though, cramming all the loose ends into our old tin can trailer, telling myself I would be glad in the end. Finally, we waved goodbye to the grandparents who were holding down the fort, and we hit the road—for better or worse.
To make a long journey short (and spoil the ending), we didn't get an elk this year, but we accomplished some good, hard scouting in case we're brave enough to go again. I say brave because adventure isn't easy. There are long roads and wrong turns. There are cramped kids and diaper changes at the most inconvenient intervals. Unexpected rainstorms can bog down your pretty new truck's tires in goop so deep that you end up stranded atop a mountain, and the rain might just continue all through the night, forcing you to plug your ears to keep from losing your mind. But there are also bear tracks, mule deer bucks with antlered crowns, and sunlight through the aspens. The smell of pine needles under your boots and cowboy coffee on a Coleman stove. And if you're lucky, you might just catch a phantom bugle on the morning breeze—the unearthly sound of a bull elk that'll keep you coming back for more.
So here I am back at home, but I'm not the same person as when I left. I carry adventure with me, fresh and new, and it seems to illuminate all that's possible. Our trip outside the ordinary helped me remember that no matter how hard I try to stay healthy doing all the “right” things, adventure is the one thing that is sure to keep me alive.
Jen
Farmgirl Sisterhood Member #9
The View From My Boots: www.bovesboots.blogspot.com
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