It was a tough thing to do. That hat served me well for over seven years of my life. We braved rain, snow, dirt, sun, and everything else together in numerous states, and five different countries. We spent tons of time together OUT THERE. Time will only tell if this new hat has what it takes to fill old faithfuls shoes. But I digress. I drove into the mountains turning the music louder the further I got from civilization. Windows down, sunroof open, cheap cigar ash flying and i was feeling alive again. I just drove for hours. I wanted to see every mountain and stream I could think of within driving distance. I did. I drove too long. Dusk was fast approaching. I knew exactly where I was going to camp and I knew I wouldn't reach it until after dark. This didn't stop me, nay a lesser man may have turned back to his comfortable bed in the face of making camp in the dark, but not me. I high-tailed it to camp and missed the last lingering light of the sun by a mere twenty minutes. I got out my flashlights and stumbled off into the woods. Normally this would be a horrible idea but I know every step of the trail by heart and it's right next to a stream that flows under the bridge that I parked next to so there wasn't much chance of getting lost. If you lose your bearings all you have to do is walk down the stream until you hit the bridge, take a left, and your back where you started.
First things first, I collected wood and fashioned a crude fire ring. Fire is a vital part of a good camping trip in my book. The boy scouts would have been proud. It was going in mere minutes. Then came dinner. Delicious Ramen Noodles. The breakfast of champions. Then came... nothing. Yes nothing. That's the beauty of it. Firelight throwing shadows like slow motion dancers, the rush of the river behind me, the fireflies that seem to be talking in a mysterious language of flashing lights all around me in the woods, and nothing to worry me. I don't get stressed out very easy. If you ask my wife she will undoubtedly say that I don't worry enough. But OUT THERE, out where people used to live, out in the great outdoors, what worries I have melt away. I sat for some time by that fire. I couldn't tell you what I thought about most of the time. I don't believe I was thinking about anything most of the time, but it was refreshing. I feel close to God OUT THERE. It's like things are quiet enough that you finally notice He is sitting right next to you the whole time. When the sun came up the next morning I walked up the river to my favorite spot. There are two large rocks jutting out into the river, one from each bank, and they barely miss each other in the center and overlap each others span just a little bit. In this spot right where the water picks up speed in the narrows and snakes through the rocks is the perfect seat. Carved into the rocks is a natural recliner where I sat for hours in the sun. I skimmed through the current issue of Outside Magazine (always a good read), read The Good Book, and did alot more of nothing. After a little exploration I got back in the car to head home with a smile on my face.
The city can really get me down. The traffic, the gas prices, the politicians, the sensationalized (I don't think that's a word) news, the bills, the daily grind, the noise, the pollution, the waste, the constant displays of mans depravity, my sinful reactions to it all, I could go on for paragraphs. It all seems so broken. Honestly I'm not a strong enough man to deal with it most of the time. But sometimes, just every once in a while, when I leave it all behind, if I can get OUT THERE even just for a day, It makes me want to try again. It reminds me that one person can change things. Sure only one person usually makes small changes. But the thing about big changes, sweeping changes, things that change the world, is that they are almost always made up of many small changes.
