What had started out to be just an afternoon of wandering around in
the Colorado foothills was turning out to be an experience that was
not pleasant at all. Perhaps you would understand a bit better if
I filled you in on what was going on. All of my life there has
been a burning deep inside me to seek adventure. I want to, no I
need to, find out what is over that next hill or around that next
turn in the road. If I look at a map and see all the nice freeways
and byways that are designated as “I” this and “I” that, then
boredom sets in and, yawning, I put the map away and choose some
other route. Any time I have headed out on vacation the tug of
adventure has caused me to abandon the proven route and, literally,
forced me to drive down the forbidden or undiscovered path. Oh, I
suppose there is a psychological reason for this or, perhaps, I’m
a reincarnation of some ancient explorer or, maybe, it is just born
into some people and they can’t help it. I know I can’t. I joined
the merchant marine when I was quite young, simply because I had
read somewhere these ships wandered all over the world; I wanted to
see the world. When we were in port and loading the ship, I was
like a caged tiger pacing from rail to rail and bow to stern hoping we
would get underway before I went bananas.
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Added on: September 11th, 2008
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