May 1st, 2012: Back home
The other day, I decided to wander outside and into my car.
It was a clear day, mild, the kind of day that tells you spring is here.
Rex, my loyal bulldog, decided to stay with my parents for the length of my trip, which at that point in time, was undecided.
The road leading up into the mountains called to me.
The places where I had spent my youth said to me, "Come! Bring beer!"
I had called a few friends, some older than the mountains themselves, but still good friends.
Most were saddled with kids, wives, jobs, what have you.
So it was just me, myself and I.
Nothing says, Hello, like being out in the woods, a roaring fire, a good piece of steak, cooked over said roaring fire.
Did I mention the beer?
The sounds of the woods covered me in peace.
My tent along with my sleeping bag kept me warm and dry.
As I slept the first night, a white blanket of new snow covered all.
While others ran around in circles trying to get stat reports to people who wouldn't read them anyways, I was hiking up a trail, towards a lake we kids called Lost Lake, cause for a time, we were lost to everyone when we were there.
I spent a few days there, mostly just sitting on an old stump contemplating the sights.
A deer wandered by, eyeing me once or twice then figured I wasn't a threat, kept moving on by quickly.
No cell phones, no Internet, no TV or scary news stories, just me, myself and I.
I took my time making it back to my car on the last day.
Rex wasn't THAT happy to see me, he figured I should have stayed out for another week.
My parents spoil him like the grandson they've always wanted.