Living one shutter at a time
I’ve spent most of my vacation and holiday time hiking, climbing, kayaking, or rafting locations that were illustrated in my childhood Boy Scout handbook. Yet there’s a twist. Those images were cartooned and often inaccurate, leading younger me to believe I could one day enjoy a campsite in front of Delicate Arch. Or that climbing Everest was something any fit young man could accomplish with a knapsack and a thermos of Campbell’s Soup. Read more
What started as a normal work day found us at 1am standing before a Las Vegas rental car kiosk. Slumbering airports and red eye flights are the cost of stealing time. Read more
Lost Maples State Park is a popular destination for landscape photographers and painters. Late October through early November, the shifting shades of reds and oranges form a collage of fall colors. A clear, cold stream twists and turns through the rocky riverbed. Brightly colored Maple leaves float as tiny boats drawn towards countless small waterfalls. Encompassed by rock-faced, rolling hills and endless sunsets Lost Maples is a nature-lovers playground only a two hour drive North West of San Antonio.
The accumulation of daily life and it’s endless demands tightens around me like a python squeezing joy from my soul. This is the first day in a week long Texas State Park trip. After only a few hours of climbing, photography, and hiking, my smile quickly returns.
Dark storm clouds churned and twisted through the valleys and canyons of Guadeloupe Mountain. Attempting to evade the storm, Ben pushed our rental car like Ricky Bobby setting up a “Shake and Bake.”From the passenger’s seat I foolishly ignited my jet-boil camp stove. Lauren, always “the loving wife” pointed out the absurdity of boiling water in a moving car. Yet in regards to coffee, I don’t concern myself with trivial details such as 2nd degree burns or carbon monoxide poisoning. Plus, I trusted Ben’s driving skill; that is until I realized he was videoing me with his phone while driving!
By 1am we settled into our hotel room. Gradually at first, but with gaining intensity came the snoring. What started as a few snorts grew into the gurgles and gasps of Darth Vader snorkeling. My eyes wide open and bloodshot, I glanced over at Lauren who was sound asleep. From the bed next to us one would assume Ben was “Gitmo style” waterboarding a chainsaw. Add to this the rhythmic hum of semi-truck tires (no offense El Paso), but at sunrise I was ready to go.
It’s been one of those weeks. Congratulations your the 1000’th angry customer, ticker tape falls from the ceiling, a marching band enters playing “Louie Louie”. Yep, I’m loosing it. Do you ever feel trapped in a day that won’t end? Kind of like the movie Groundhog Day; yet lacking the awesomeness of a groundhog designated driver?
Do you struggle trying to explain your love of the outdoors to friends and family? Do you feel them slipping away while answering questions regarding mileage, showers, and the always ominous “how do you poop in the woods?” At this moment, with a creepy look in your eye, whisper, “how do you poop on a toilet?” Come on people; it’s not like deviant bears are waiting for you to drop trou! Read more
Little Adventures 