Best Adventures

“I dont know about any of you but when I backpack the best thing about is the stories that i come back back with. Im curious as to see if anyone else has any good stories.”

“I think the most memorable trips are the ones where the weather is harsh or something happens to really make it stand out in your mind. Like a huge snowstorm, ultra cold conditions or catching some nice trout.”

“I've been BPing for almost 12 years and I don't think I've ever had an "adventure". Nothing wildly life threatening yet. Nothing I'd call "adventure".”

“I'll bite. I don't know whether this story shows how stubborn I can be or that I can be a DA. Last weekend my wife, 13 month old son and myself go camping in the Sipsey Wilderness (AL). We decide on a !$%&ized version of car camping versus backpacking. With all of the baby stuff we get the bright idea to put it on his Radio Flyer wagon since it has large rubber wheels. Real smart, right? We get to the trail head with about an hour of light. I put on my pack, grab two sleeping bags and the lantern and take off. The place I have in mind is about 1/2 mile in, but I'm hoping for a fire ring a little closer. Wrong, after 1/2 mile I come to the first fire ring. I drop my load and head back. There's now 40 min. of light. We load up and take off again. When we get to the site we drop everything and I start a fire, take the flashlight, and tell my wife I'll be back in 30 min. I get back to the trailhead pretty quick. About 300 yds from the trailhead heading to the site, I have my first creek crossing with the wagon. I get across but the opp. bank is steep and the wagon takes a dive into the creek. I get it back up the bank and the same thing happens. The third time was a charm. At this time it's pitch black. I decide to take the pack and play and small cooler containg babys milk and head to my wife. When I get there I find out I've been gone and hour and she's terrified. The fire went out after 10 min, I had the flashlight, and guess where the propane was; THE WAGON. She's not staying alone this time and goes with me. After another hour we get the wagon to the site and we're exhausted. Now it's about 7 pm. I put up the tent (family size I might add) and she feeds the baby. By the time we get everything stowed and cook (steaks, corn, and apple cobbler in a dutch oven) it's now 10 pm. To bed we go. We sleep until 9 and it's damn cold by AL standards. The places we wanted to go that day involved a creek crossing, only the creek is chest deep instead of under my knees where it had been last weekend, so we decide to head home. It takes another whole hour to get out. I then have to go back and get another load which takes only 20 min. round trip. We then head back home. I could have made 3 trips on foot for what it took 1 trip on the wagon. I think this is one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Next time, leave the dutch oven, packandplay, and wagon at home and eat simply. We have two sayings at work that apply here: If you're gonna but stupid, you'd better be tough; and, the difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude. I guess I'm a tough, DA (not district attorney) with a good attitude. Sorry so long, and who's ready to sign up for the AL trip mentioned in another thread.”

“oh man dayhiker...you left her alone without a flashlight at night?!?
I bet it's couch city for you, mister! LOL

;o)”

“Leave the Wagon at home and I'm in!”

“I think one of my most memorable adventures was the 4 month solo road trip thru the western states. Campin and hikin everywhere from the Badlands to the O.P. and south to Newport beach to body surf the Wedge. Some of that time I spent working with the locals in Orange Co, Cal. working a temp. job since cash does not grow on trees like it does up in Humboldt Co.

Hangin in Pioneer Square smoking and rappin with some midnight Lutheran preacher about this and that. Give my left over food I got in ChinaTown (S.F.) to some homeless person younger than me. The boat ride from Port Angles to B.C. All the late night park campground crashes and early morning escapes all in a effort to save a penny. The countless dayhikes and encounters with the law. I was homeless, more or less for 4 months eating and sleeping out of my truck.

Now for a little possible irony to tie into this story. You see Chris "Alex Supertramp" McCandles and I share the same birthday. I was planning on driving to Ak. to see a friend at the start of the summer but was delayed due to fundage. My travels did not begin till Aug. and my friend from Ak. was due in southern in Cali. mid Sept. So I ended up scrapin the orginal Ak. roadtrip for a later date and decide to hit more of the western states. Some where down the line I may try to share my log with others. Road trips rule!!!”

“Once, if I had the time off I was somewhere in the woods. I used to drag my wife with me as much as I could get her to go, but as the kids came along she went less and less and I went more and more alone.

The woods were my second love and I spent my time there in bliss. I love to run out a trail and see where it goes to, or if it has an end to it. Some of them go to places you wouldn`t dream of and others just stop, or play out for unknown reasons. I have stumbled on some great finds, only to find out that I wasn`t the first one to see it, or enjoy it`s hidden beauty. I have also found some spots that show no signs that man has ever left a trace, or track before me.

I found one such place on the backside of no where and it was and still is a piece of Heaven on Earth, that few have ever seen and no one but me seems to know about. I love the place like no other I`ve found, or have been shown. It has high lofty places with water seeping out of it`s sides, dark cuts into it`s banks that hint of caves, overgrown with lush green ferns and large trees, that have to be seen, to be believed. How did they survive so long and never feel the bite of a cutter`s ax, or the gash and gaping wound of a saw? The limbs of one big tree have grown into the trunk of another nearby monster and they stand as lovers in a loving embrace. They have a life of their own and ask nothing of anyone but to be left alone to stand out time together, as lovers do against what ever life has to throw at them.

One cold winter day I found my way back to my hidden place in the woods and it was like seeing old friends I haddn`t seen in years. There alone in the cold, I felt a warmth flow over me as if I`d come home again and was being welcomed by the lover trees. I made my way down to the spring that flows out of the side of a cutback bank and watched the ripples of water race away to the far sides of the little pool, that catches the run off of spring water. It was like touching liquid ice as my fingers came into contact with the silvery stuff of life and as I lifted my hands away from washing them, tiny droplets of diamonds fell back into the pool. The droplets made tiny little pinwheeles as they reintered pool and my eyes were drawn to them as they spread, growing as they played out. I gathered the makings of a fire and layed some more away for later use and then set about building a fire to cook on. I didn`t much more than get my tent up and the fire had died down enough to do my cooking on. The meal was nice, but the hot coffee was enjoyed long after, as I watched the fire and the wisps of smoke that curled away into the night sky. There was a bite to the air that night, but there was no hint to the change in the weather as I settled in for a night`s sleep. I awoke to the smell of smoke and the crack and pop of my fire some time later in the night and I decided I better put the fire out. I undid the fly on the tent and looked out on a winter wonderland, with big fluffy snow flakes falling like the feathers off a white dove. I wasn`t expecting that, we never get snow where I`m from and there wasn`t any word of it on the news, or the last news I`d heard. Try as hard as I might, I couldn`t find sleep that night so I stayed in the tent and watched the snow filter down and cover everything in a blanket of white. It was hard to drag myself out when it got light, but I did and it didn`t take long to get another fire up and going. I`d never been that far back in before in bad weather and never with snow covering everything like it was. I was in hog Heaven and fit to be tied and busting out to say something out loud, but I didn`t. I bit my lip and just enjoyed the beauty of the moment, but my thoughts were running wild with themselves. I gathered up my thoughts and looked around me, trying to see it all and wishing I could paint and capture this moment so I`d never forget it. My eyes came to rest on the lover trees and their limbs were full and heavy with built up snow, but they still held on to each other. I couldn`t help but smile at them and feel little there looking on at them the way I was and seeing them the way they were there. I had a another whole day to spend out there in my hidden place, but for some reason I got to missing my wife and I tore down and packed up and out of the woods. It must have been freezing, but I never felt it at all, I guess I was just to excited to ever give it any notice after I saw the first few flakes of snow falling. I couldn`t wait to get home and share every bit of it with my wife, but she just laughed at me and she fell into my arms with that up turned smile on her face.

I have never been back to that place again in the woods, but I think about it often and wonder if the lover trees are still holding on.”

“Great adventure story, Briar...sounds like somethin' I was dreaming/scheming up not too long ago.

BigFoot, your narration was beautiful. You'll always be able to visit that sacred place, ya know...you've been carrying it with you through some tough years.
Thanks for such a nice start to the day. ahhhhh
:o)”

“Briar Rabbit....... Curious how old you are to have had your adventure? If I could find my book "Into the Wild," I guess I'd know, huh? I'm taking it you and McCandless share the same birth year, too, or not? I really enjoyed reading that story and yes, you should get your notes together too.

Big Foot........ I started reading that and I said, "ahhhhh, Bigfoot," fast-forwarded to see who wrote it and SURE ENOUGH!! Beautiful. I hope you've got that one saved to the word processing program. ;-)”

“Big Foot I appreciate so much what you bring to this site! That was lovely.

NOTE to SELF: DO NOT bring Pack N Play camping! LOL Dayhiker! I have a feeling Hyper and I will be having some trips like that soon!”

“Liz, Chris was a year to the day older than me. His misfortunate adventure ended in '92. I did alot of lally gaggin in college and did make it out til '94. My summers of '92 and '93 were spent in field schools. I had never heard of Chris's story till sometime in '96 or even later. I just read the book this last summer and it wasn't till I finished the book that I saw some of the similiarites between Chris and myself. A great story with a disappointing ending. I think every dreamer(like us) sees alittle bit of Supertramp in themselves. I know I have. Its a shame that in his youthful death comes immortalization.”

“Dayhiker, I sure liked that!LOL

Rabbit, I didn`t even see yours last night. That did sound like good times and I look forward to hearing more about your adventures. I can`t wait till you post `em!

Thanks AmyG, Lizs and Joy!

No Lizs, I don`t have that in word (lol) I don`t know how to, but I did cut and paste it and put it in a file. I just write `em in the little box and hope for the best.”

“Adventure:

1a: An undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks.
b: The encountering of risks.

2: an exciting or remarkable experience


Isn't this a vague defenition of all our trips?”

“Cool, Bigfoot, at least you're filing them SOMEWHERE! hehee

Briar Rabbit... Field School? The only thing I can think of for field school is archaeology. Did you study that?

Yeah, I can relate to "Alex Supertramp." Love to take off on trips..... to discover the people and their thoughts "out there" as much as the land, it seems. Like on the trip last fall I enjoyed Hovenweep N'tl Monument and its godforsaken, out-of-the-way location...... AND meeting an eccentric old guy who got us to stop on Boulder Mt. to discover our taillights weren't on in any form... and he followed us (helping us travel safely that way) to a gas station near Torrey in his '77 Grand Wagoneer. From what little we talked to him, there were sure some stories to be had there. :-)”

“I don`t know the right words to describe my best adventure so I won`t even try to until I learn more about writing and how to turn the excitement into words, that make you feel it as I did. I hope I can one day find the right words, but till then I`ll just have to share a few lesser ones and hold out hope, that my best adventure hasn`t happened yet.

I`ve always taken my kids with me as much as I can steal `em away from home and school. I wanted them to have an understanding of the wild things and to help them grow a love of their own for it. I got the two boys up way before light one morning and got `em dressed and fed and we made our way to a place in the woods to watch for deer and other wild life. It was a cool morning and there was a light frost on the ground that clung to everything. It made walking in the thick leaves very slippery and the going was slow, but we made it in good time before the first rays of light could catch us out in the open. I had a tree stand built way up in a big red oak tree and I had built it big enough at the start of it, with my sons in mind. I got my oldest son on the rungs of the tree and started him up with me right behind him in case he might slip and try to fall back down. Once at the top, I got him down and tied off so he couldn`t fall out and I went back down for my youngest son. I did the same for him and got us squared away and ready for whatever the day might bring us.

It wasn`t long till we could make out things scurrying in the leaf clutter and getting closer to us. The first hint of a new day was starting in the east and with that the birds came alive and went about their business of getting a something to eat, their singing and wing beats seemed to drown out everything else. Jays and crows were making some racket and a brown thrush almost lit on my sons arm. His eyes were as big as a pie plate when he looked back at me with that big grin on his face. The little boy haddn`t made a move, he was fixed on something and I too got to looking at the spot that held his attention. It must have just been the movement because you couldn`t hear much else for all the birds carrying on like they were. There it moved again, but it was still hidden behind some trees and low brush, that seprated us. Then, just like that the deer started coming out from every where at once it seemed like, it was like ghosts moving in and out of the shadows. The deer played around us and fed there for almost an hour before they moved off looking for a bedding spot to wait out the day. My oldest son, thinking it was over, got up and started to say something to me, but I put my finger to my lips and he sat back down and turned around. He haddn`t much more than got like that than he too saw what the youngest boy and I had already noticed, a bobcat. It was coming right at the tree and may have been the cause of the deer wandering off like they did. My oldest son stood it just as long as he could before he screamed out and broke the moment. The poor old bobcat turned itself wrong side out getting out of there, it was so funny. My son was afraid the bobcat was going to climb up in the tree and get us and the poor old bobcat was afraid my son was right in after him, as he hight tailed it out of state, not looking back.

Maybe, that`s not the kind of adventure you were thinking of, but it is to me and how those two young boys helped me grow up.

Because of them, I got to see the world twice, through the eyes of a child.

The best of times!”

“Big Foot, I could sit here all day and read your stories - your words are perfect as they are written - every emotion that you felt is coming through...don't change a thing and thank you for sharing. I'm looking forward to more stories, hope you've got good typing fingers. Again, thanks much!!!!”

“Bigfoot, your last paragraph reminded me of something I saw on TV Sunday night. VH1 was doing a special on John Lennon. They were talking about how much time he spent with he youngest son Sean. The show said that Lennon called his son, his guru. When I heard that it gave me chills just like when I finished reading your story. I have a 13 month old and am already amazed at what I have learned. I already understand that he is my guru, MY teacher.”

“About five years ago, I was taking a three-day solo trip in the Adirondacks during August. For some reason, there were an unusual number of grasshoppers from the moment I reached the trailhead.

After about three miles the grasshoppers were so thick and clustered that I had to walk in the middle of the trail where their numbers were smaller and I had a better chance of avoiding them. When I walked nearer the side and startled them, they jumped all over -- even on me. Try as I might, I couldn't avoid stepping on them. I was just walking along going crunch, crunch, crunch... It was gross!


After a while, I became curious about their clustering. I thought they might be mating. I stopped to investigate. They weren't mating. They were clustering around other grasshoppers that had been crushed on the trail and, in a cannibalistic act, eating their dead comrades. When I looked close I could see that, not only were they eating the dead, but they were taking bites out of each other. A sort of feeding frenzy. These clusters of hoppers were cannibalistic feeding frenzies.

It made me a little ill and even horrified me. For a while, I regretted having investigated so closely. I was going to have horrible nightmares about giant grasshoppers, their green reflex-driven mandibles scissoring away as they came at me. Uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu! It would be a sleepless night.

Thankfully the hoppers soon thinned out. As quickly as they had accumulated on the trail they disappeared. The dense mass of them lasted just five miles or so, then they receded into the background and I could walk normally.

Still shuddering, thinking about the frenzied hoppers, I found a level spot to camp as it was getting dark. I set up my tent and laid out my sleeping bag to let it loft up. As I was about to go back out to cook dinner, I heard a loud buzzing noise. I thought the grasshoppers were coming for me! Freaked out, I decided I'd stay in the tent for a while. Just as I zipped my tent closed, something hit the side of the fly. Then another and another... Before long, the tent fly was squirming like a living organism under the increasing weight of the grasshoppers.

I got inside of my sleeping bag and cinched it tight, hoping that if any got inside the tent, the thick down bag would protect me. Not thirty seconds later, the tent fabric began ripping! It started with the slow popping sound of the seams giving out and then the whole thing just collapsed on top of me! I could hear them munching on the sleeping bag shell. The weight of the mass of insects was suffocating. Some hoppers made it through the small hole left around the mummy opening. Scrunched down as far as I could get in the bottom of the bag, I began crushing the horde with my bare hands. That seemed to make the live ones angry and the buzzing sound became unbearable. They began biting me! The pain of hundreds of mandibles chewing on my flesh was unbelievable. I began to black out from the pain and figured the end was near.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a cheap motel room in New Jersey in a pool of sweat. I resolved to never eat wild mushrooms along the trail again.”

“I`m as much at home in the wilds as I am at the house. Where ever I throw my hat down, or my feet can get me to is good enough for me. Oh, I may be a bit picky about the very spot, but the place doesn`t matter much. So, when I get the chance to be out, I haul off as fast as I can to get there. I`ve got packing up, to head out down to a fine art, if it isn`t nailed down I haul off and throw it in the back of the truck. Well, some of our best adventures have started out like this and with no place thought out before hand as to where to go to. We just head out and turn up where we`re going when we get there. A minie road trip of sorts, I guess you`d have to say.

One day heading out like this found us overlooking a trout stream, slap full of hungry trout. The three kids wanted to wander off to the water right off, but I made `em gather wood for a fire and cooking first. It`s surprising how much you can get kids to do if they want to hurry up and get done with it so they can go about their own thing.lol

Well, those three are river rats and water puppies for sure and water draws them to it`s edges as though flys to a sugar bowl. The little woman and I go about getting camp ready and things squared away, with plans for lunch soon, but it`s hard to get done because the kids keep going through stuff looking for fishing junk and such. The three kids are scattered out below us along the water`s edge and they are haulin` in fish faster than I can tell you about it. To say they are havin` a large time wouldn`t half cover it. I have to remind them about the limit and this gets them to counting the fish and hatching out plans. They decide I need to get to cleaning the fish and their mother needs to get to cookin` some of `em up so, they can keep right on fishing. I wonder where they come up with things like that and I try to lay it off on their mother, but she heads that off fast enough. Now, I have to be the heavy and tell `em to put their fishing stuff away and find some other things to do to keep `em busy and out of things. After all they`ve done put the parents to working on their fish and soon to be lunch. Off they tear into the woods to scare off anything worth looking at, or so we think. We almost get the fish done and are thinking about making the kids come back, when they just show up on their own. My wife and I exchange glances, we know that`s not right. What could they be up to now? It doesn`t take long to find out, they`ve run down some baby rabbits and are trying to keep `em hid from us. It takes some doing, but we seperate the kids from the rabbits and place the little, pink, no hair having, hairs back where they belong. My wife decides I need to spend more time watching the kids because they wear her out and she aims to get some much needed rest. So, I get to go play with `em and keep `em from killin` themselves or anything they might stumble up on.
Well, you know me, it doesn`t take long till I got the four of us digging out a bunch of coyote pups. Wow, will mom be proud of us? NO,... as it turns out, she`s not and I try to tell her they got fur already and it`s nothing like the little pink skined rabbits, but it falls on deaf ears. She`s not letting us have `em and makes that clear to half the state as she is telling us in her not so soft voice to go put `em back where we got `em and let her get some rest. We get `em back in the hole and fix it back like we found it and then move on down the river to bigger and better things and out of ear shot of sweetie too! We end up hiking out some old animal trails and come up on a bogg with critters scurring for their lives, but not quite fast enough for the eight hands going after `em. We`re in mudpuppy and frog Heaven, with tad poles and frog eggs not yet hatched as far as the eye can see. I`ve never seen as many mudpuppies in one place and all the different colors of them as there was there. We`d learned not to take any of our new found treasures back to share with the grouch,... er, I mean, sweetie. She just can`t grasp the beauty in a thing like we four can so, we have our fun with `em and let `em go back to what ever it is mudpuppies do. We stumble back into camp and all is forgiven, until she sees the mess we`ve made of ourselves playing in the bogg. Right then and there it turned into a lier`s tellin` contest and the kids weren`t holdin` anything back so, I had to hold my own with `em and side with `em at times to save our lives. It was all for nothing, seems we`ve told some of those tells before and she can remember things way back further than any of us four can so, we had to come clean about it all in the end. She, (SWEETIE) made us go clean up and for the rest of our stay she rode herd on us like a cow dog. She never let us out of her seight, but hey, at least now the family was doing things together, even if it wasn`t as much fun as it had been.

Anyone want to go catch some more fish?

Great times!”

“"I could sit here all day and read your stories" Not hard to do considering the length of most of them!”

“Ever time I go walkin in the woods and sleepin in the woods I get a new story.

My favert is prolly at the Windtooths in Wyodaho. That was the ferst time I ever did see leetlebeety rock rats, BIG rock rats, pointy tale grouches, trowt fishes, and snew.

That was also the ferst time I stayed in the woods and rocks for a loooong time. One time I falled off a clift and was ded for a minit and was reel skeerd and I cryed for only jus a minit cuz I'm a BIG GIRL and my daddy was yellin "happy nice Sarabellllllle! happy nice Sarabelllllllle! Where are youuuuuu?!" But I was reel skeerd and did not say nothin cept when I ferst falled cuz then I yelled cuz it hert and that is all that my daddy herd and he did not no wher I was til he saw me and said "stay" cuz I started hoppin when I seen him and was happy. Then in a minit my daddy climbed down the clift and helped me get back up to regler ground and we was both reeeel happy!

I do not hunt rats byside clifts no more!
(cept mebbe for a mergency).”

“Thanks Utahiker and Dayhiker!

I`m sorry Doctor Laura, but I didn`t have anything else to do.
You must not have either, if you had the time to read `em all!LOL

Violin,... I loved that!

Sarabelle,... you`re the best story teller of all. I love reading about you and your daddy`s adventures, ...oh, and about Skinny Kinny too!”

“Dayhiker, I don`t think you could be more right about that, the best lessons were taught to me by my childern. They make sure we see the things we missed as children ourselves. I didn`t get to see the thing on J.L., but he sure knew a thing or two.

Thanks!”

“Big Foot, I teach writing and I don't think you have too much left to learn about good storytelling. I'm enjoying your tales and the way you tell them. Lucky kids who have you for a Dad.

Last weekend I found a copy of "High Adventure of Eric Rybeck (sp?)" at a used bookstore for $4. It's his story of being the first to backpack the Pacific Crest Trail, Canada to Mexico, in one season, back in 1970. He was 18, having done the AT the year before. I'd forgotton he and I were the same age, and both from Michigan. So while I worked fast food the summer after graduation, wondering if I'd get my student draft deferment, he was out in the mountains soloing (in jeans!). The guy had moxy. He also writes pretty well for that age.”

“Hey, Thanks Pekka, but I could sure use some advice sometime if you got the time to teach the unteachable!

My daughter is making an English teacher and that`s what she calls me!LOL”

“Great stories. Now I am too exhaustedand humbled to write anything.”

“This one isn`t very good and it`s very long so, if you don`t have the time, you better pass on it.

I`ll share one of my finds with you. I found this place way back in the hills and way away from anyone or anything. I was horseback camping by myself and a lot further off than I was supposed to be, or had a need to be either. I`ve always had this need to know what`s over the next ridge and it eats at me till I can see it for myself. Well, this is how and why I came to be in such a place as I found myself. There were no signs of anyone ever living there before and all of a sudden there was an old road bed cut into the sides of a dry wash creekbed. The ruts were very deep and narrow and I knew them for what they were, they were old iron wagon wheel tracks, cut into the clay. You wouldn`t know it was a road in most places because of the big trees growing up in the tracks and covering up most of the tracks. I got to thinking it must be old log tracks left behind when they`d last cut the timber in this part of the country, but it wasn`t. I criss crossed `em back and forth as I made my way even further back into the heavy timber. Darkness took me before I could run `em out and see where they might lead me. I made camp as the light faded and went about getting wood up for the night. It didn`t take me long to get a fire up and going good and with it`s light I gathered more wood and added it to my pile. Supper didn`t take me long to get done with and I just setteled in for a long night. I got up and checked on the horse and added wood to the fire a few times before sleep caught up to me. I didn`t bring a sleeping sack, or a tent, but I had a rain coat and the horse blanket and I just made do with them. Light was slow getting to me the next morning, or I just woke up early, I don`t know which. I got a little something to eat and watched the fire till it got light enough to move on. A bit before noon I came to the end of the tracks and they led me to an old house place with the biggest trees I`ve ever seen. The shade of the trees had kept anything from growing up around the place, but a few weeds. There were curtins in the windows and some of the pains of glass were missing here and there, but other than that the house still looked like someone could be living there. It sent chills up my spine when I pushed the front door open and the stuff in the house was all still there, just like it had been the last day it saw use. There were letters on the couch and in an old rocker that sat close to the windows, more letters were scattered on the floor. Maybe the wind had blown `em there, but they caught my eye and the funny thing about them was, they weren`t ever opened. Talk about strange, that was and I couldn`t understand it either. I eased into the next room and it was the kitchen, with pots and pans and stuff in old jars still in the cabinets. I noticed then there weren`t any lights or electricity in the house, never had been. The next room I came to was the back porch with an old well coming up through the floor and the bucket and pull chain were there waiting on their next use. On the other side of the porch there was an old swing and next to it a door that led back into the house and into a bed room. Everything was there, the clothes in the closet and shoes placed next to the one that went with it, the covers on the bed were turned down, but moister had had it`s way with the featherbed and the critters had made it their bed now. Two doors led out of it, one to the kitchen and one to the next bed room. It was a shock, seeing the big four poster bed there and the room done in a pink that had fadded, but still showed it`s color and that it belonged to a girl at one time. There wasn`t much there of her`s, but nothing there to take her place either. She had been the last one to sleep there, by the looks of it and she had moved out.
I didn`t mess with anything and I made sure things were as I`d found them when I left there. Now I had more questions than answers and I couldn`t wait to find out what might have happened there and if anyone knew about the people that once had lived that far back from anyone or anything.

Well, it took some doing, but I did find someone that knew about the old place and the people that once had lived there. I got an address and wrote to them and I told them about finding the place and how I`d found it. I asked them if they might be willing to sell the place to me, but they weren`t wanting to sell it. None of the family had been back to the house after the girl`s father had died, her mother had passed away years earlier and she`d gone to live with an aunt. She was in a nursing home and it was her daughter that I got a letter back from. She wanted to know what the place looked like and what shape things were in there, they didn`t even know the old house was still standing. She told me I was welcome to go there and camp and hunt, if I`d look after it while I was there. The old letters turned out to be from a brother of the old man and they were on the outs and he never would open any of them, but he`d hold them and look at them from time to time, but he never got over it enough to read them. I didn`t either, but I boxed them up and sent them off to his kin folks. I only got a few letters back from them after that and she said they were the sweetest letters she`d ever read and each asking for forgiveness that never came.

I don`t know if the house is there anymore, but if I get to walking a lot better I may just go have a look.”

“First hike in the west - Idaho.
Saw a griz and a mountain goat.
Summited a peak at 11,750. Awe struck, I was.

Though I've hiked in more "spectacular" locales since, none have had as much of an impact.”

“Big Foot your writing style reminds me of Cully Gage's. He wrote numerous humerous books of his adventures in Northern Michigan called the "Northwoods Readers" check them out at the library if you can. I'm sure you'd enjoy them.”

“Joy, so you know of Cully Gage, the U.P. sage. In his professional life, he was a professor at WMU. A good friend of mine, who I've hiked and hunted with in the U.P., was his academic protoge, as well as with storytelling. The Gage books are a lot of fun to read. If you ever drive through the U.P. on U.S 41, when you get to the little village of Champion, west of Ishpeming, look around: you're in Cully Gage country, where he grew up I believe.”

“you all are great! I dont know if ive ever heard so many good adventures!”

“Pekka, I remember reading that book (High Adventure of Eric Ryback) waaaaay back when. I was enthralled with his story.

Then some jerk felt compelled to tell me years later that there was a lot of controversy about his trip. Seems there were a couple people who came out after publication and claimed that they gave him rides for long portions of the trip and maybe he wasn't the first to legitimately complete the PCT. Have you heard this too?”

“kleetn,
I have come across that as I checked into the book the past couple of days. Years ago I had read his book about him and his brother doing the Continental Divide subsequent to the PCT.

Apparently this ride issue has simmered for years. A site I came across from a mountaineering group or such in the PNW noted that formal credit is given to a fellow, Wilson I believe, who hiked it a couple years after Ryback, that the trail group acknowledges that Ryback, rides or not, was the first to traverse the length of the trail long before it was fully mapped anyway, plus he did it the N to S direction, which they said was the hard way. It shades my reading of High Adventure, but hey, when I was 18 I still wasn't making the effort he did, even if he hitched a couple rides. I'll try not to let the dispute ruin the read.

The trail wasn't even formally completed and dedicated until 1993, I recall, and in the decades since Ryback attempted it, it was rerouted and relocated in many places, so maybe its all moot.”

“I agree with you, the kid had major cajones (or perhaps was just plain crazy) to attempt that trip, but what an adventure!

It's pretty amazing to realize he did it:
*At that age*
*Before the trail was fully established*
*Solo*
*Hiking North-to-South, when the North Cascades are DEEP in snow*

Another great adventure book is Indian Creek Chronicles: A Winter Alone in the Wilderness by Pete Fromm. Story of a guy who spends seven months alone in a tent in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in Idaho, 60 miles from the nearest person and 40 miles from the nearest plowed road. =:O”

“I always recommend R.M. Patterson's "Dangerous River" about prospecting/trapping/exploring the South Nahanni territory before it had even been fully mapped (and that was in the 1920s!). It's been reprinted in paperback. I was lucky to find an original hardcopy. A great, engrossing story.”

“Big Foot, again, you're telling a great tale. I would love to wander onto something like that. And believe me, am the type to follow such a thing as that to its end. (When traveling, I'm always looking for old trails...... a lot of the time, old RR beds.)

I remember horseback riding as a youngster with my neighboring friend, a couple years younger. We took gravel roads to probably 10 miles away from home, near the Turkey River (ironically, growing up around here there were NO Turkeys! but now they'been re-introduced and are everywhere....THRONGS of turkeys.... STRUTTING with tail feathers held proudly these days)

I digress.... We took one of my favorite backroads along the Turkey. There are only farms at each end... nothing for a stretch of probably 4-5 miles in the middle. We saw a little shack down beside the river. Ohhhhh, I wanted to go explore it, but we were too chicken! I happened down that road this winter for another reason, icy road and all... looked to where I thought the shack must have been. All gone. Bad flooding in the last couple summers took it, I'm sure.

But, man, was I ever curious!!!

Also, another great road with NOTHING on it heads south a few miles outta Bagley, Wisconsin along the Mississippi. Nothing but an old, almost one-lane gravel/dirt road above the river bank (and train tracks closer to the river). Makes you think that this is how the pioneers found it a couple centuries ago.

We were gonna camp on woodland that was cleared a little and then got stuck cuz it was boggy when we got off the trail into itl! But we got out, after a little effort. The road ends in a town...... geez, I can't remember the name!! A little one-horse town, only the old gravel road and a long paved road into it from a county road. It's a big party spot for Mississippi boaters. But a great out-of-the-way site. The one tavern is nuts. The other is a stately old thing.”

“I`m almost eight years old and I can shoot a gun almost as good as the men do. Almost every evening before dark for the last week the men have gathered to shoot their guns and clean `em back up, to ready them for hunting season. They all let me have a go at their guns, they know how much I love it and for a kid, I`m a very good shot. They run me out of the room when we get back up to the house so they can talk and in a bit I hear `em calling my name so, I go see what they want. I can`t believe my ears, my grandpa has talked my folks into letting me go hunting with him. Well, I`m about to bust with the news and go to acting like the kid I am and almost blow the whole deal. It takes some doing but I pull it off acting like I`m in Church for the next few days and they give in again and let me go.

Grandpa shows up that very evening and hauls me and my clothes off to the woods. On the drive into the hills a big old doe bounds into the road in front of the truck and garndpa has to almost stop to keep from hitting it. I do my best to get him to let me shoot it, but he won`t let me, telling me the season doesn`t open till the next day. You talk about pumped, I was excited and couldn`t help myself, I was getting to live out my dream. I had wanted to go hunting so bad, but my dad doesn`t hunt and I never dreamed I`d ever get to go.

We turned off the main road onto a dirt road that went on for ever and way after dark we pulled off that road for a pig trail running off into the woods going no where that I could tell till it opened up into a tiny clearing of sorts. There was a fire going when we got there and some other men that I knew were there along with some I`ve never seen before. The men all got to giving me a real hard time about the deer we`d seen getting there and they had to slap me on the back or mess up my hair some to make them happy enough to leave me alone.

So, this is Wild Cat Bluffs, it sure doesn`t look like much to me, maybe it`ll look better in the light of day? Man, day comes early this far back in the woods, I can still see the stars and the moon too as grandpa drags me out of bed. He tells me to haul on as many clothes as I can carry because it`s truned off cold during the night, he wasn`t even wrong. I waddled out to the fire and about fell off in it, I don`t know if it was the lack of sleep, or the weight of the clothes that almost pitched me head first into the flames, but three sets of hands reached me before I bit the fire and haulded me back away from it and on to a stump. The side on me towards the fire was about to melt as the sid away from the fire was freezing. I`ve never been so cold and hot at the same time. They shove a plate into my hands and it about takes the skin off my fingers, those blue plates are hot, but nothing like the blue cup of coffee they hand me next. Wow, did they keep them in the fire before they gave `em to me? They just laugh at me again, I didn`t know I`d said it out loud so they could hear me, I just thought I was screaming. I had to get rid of one of the things just so I could get started. I did get it all down and the coffee too, it had cooled off some and just about took off my lips the first time I tried to drink it. Everything I did seemed to be funny to `em and they hurried me around and shoved some stuff in my pockets to eat on later and grandpa hauled me off into the woods. He walked in front of me carring an old oil lantern and we walked, I thought the better part of the way back home, before we came to the river banks and he stoped and set the lamp down. I thought it was as far as we were going, but I haddn`t guessed right about a thing after leaving the house and I wasn`t doing any better with guessing now either. He had me shuck all my duds below the waste and tie them and my shoes up together in a wad. He`d already shucked off before I got done and he left me there in the dark as he wadded across the river with a load of guns and stuff he`d been carring. He got back and took me by the arm and started off across the ice water and sharp rocks, headded to the other side. On the other side we got back into our things, but it wasn`t easy with wet skin and cold about to kill me like it was. I couldn`t get my teeth to stop clacking against each other, I was hurting and grandpa knew it too. He gave me time to get ready and didn`t get cross with me. We`d been going down hill all the way to the water, something I haddn`t noticed much till we started going up hill all the way away from it, but the walking soon got me warm again and I could feel my legs once more. Grandpa stopped and set me down next to this big old red oak tree, he placed an old horse blanket over my lap and told me to stay there and not dare move till he came back for me. I thought he`d be right back as I watched him and the light fade out over the hill and off to my left, but he didn`t show right back up.

It started getting light and for the first time I could see where I was and some of the stuff around me, I couldn`t believe my eyes. There were these big house size boulders every where and I was on the highest piece of land around for miles and miles. I could see off down to the river where we`d crossed it, it was so clear and blue. I couldn`t figure out why the river was called the muddy fork, it was anything but that. I got so carried away with looking at everything I forgot why I was there and watched the three deer cross the river where we had only hours before. Now that was something to see and it didn`t hit me till they went into the woods and out of sight that I was supposed to be hunting. The leaves were turning and the reds and orange and yellows were like paint against the green of the evergreen trees. I watched fox playing and saw hawks fly over and before I knew it the light was gone and I could see the glow of grandpa`s lantern as he made his way back to me.

I don`t think I stopped talking all the way back to camp and I don`t remember him saying much at all till we got ready to eat. He looked at me and smiled and told them what I`d seen and about my whole day, even about the three deer, I didn`t mention to him. Truns out he had made a loop and hid behind me so he could watch me and keep me out of trouble.

There`s been days I could sure use him now!”

“Thanks Joy, I`ll have to check out that book!

Lizs, you`d love it here then, there`s lot of old places like that to explore. I might could even show you a few!LOL”

“Big Foot, another nice tale.

If it ever gets distributed your way, or when it reaches video, you'll probably enjoy Jeff Daniel's new movie "Escanaba in Da Moonlight," which is about a clan of Upper Peninsula deer hunters, one of whom has never bagged a buck. It's hilarious and weird and touching all at once. My wife, a Yooper born and bred, and I had tears running down our cheeks from laughing. And we understood the tribute to tradition it makes.

Your stories, Big Foot, are important for the very same reasons. They are the thread that will continue with your kids so that the world you have known so personally and uniquely will not be lost. Wonder what it takes to achieve immortality? You've already figured it out by sharing your stories.”

“Pekka, Thanks, I`ve never thought of it like that, or had anyone say shuch nice things about it. That alone makes it worth it to me, if just one person liked it and remembers it, it might get passed on.

Again Thanks!”

“Pekka, we've been through that area. There's a park named after his father around there I believe.”

“Maybe there`s a flaw in my thinking but I love bad weather the most. With all the times I`ve been out and spent time in the woods, I`ve also had some great times when the weather held off. But if it rains or clouds roll in and it`s over cast I seem to see things in a much different light.

I love the smell of an on coming storm and the way the wind picks up and blows every which way, not sure at first which way it wants to go. The birds are the first to react to it and you see `em trying to find a place to hold up and weather out the storm. The squirrels seem to hurry about and are getting busy trying to get the last bits of food and get `em put up before the rain starts up strong. The deer just come alive and frolick about, running willy nilly here and there, kicking up their heels and jumping about and acting like fawns again. An old coon will come out of it`s den hole, or leafy nest and try to catch the last rays of the sun before a rain comes, you see `em just stretch out as far as they can on a limb and hold on. Fox and coyotes will mill about here and there looking for the unsupecting or foolish young that might not be paying attention. The turkeys will fly up to a roost tree, but will often fly back down after the rain starts up and slows down to a steady soft rain. Wild hogs will bunch up and stay put at the start of a rain storm, but will break up and start to feed off again if the rain slows. The rain seems to bother the deer the most and they`ll seek out fields or small openings away from trees so they can hear better and see if anything is after them. Hogs will too, but not as much as the deer do.

I love seeing all that and being in the woods or along the edges of the woods and get to watch it all play out and I try to guess what`ll happen next. It`s never the same thing, or does it much ever happen the same way twice, but some of it is sure to happen every time it storms. I love when the rain lets up a bit and I see an animal shake itself and try to rid itself of the water it`s fur has collected. Some of `em look like a dog shaking water off and others shake one end and little by little it runs the length of them and it`s so funny seeing it do that. Some of `em look just like drowned rats and they seem to know it, they won`t even hold their head up they`re so ashamed of the way they look.

I can curl up in my sleeping bag in the tent and listen to the rain pelt the sides of the tent. I can sleep so restful when it rains like that, but when the sky is full of thunder and light racing across the skys, I love to stay up and watch and listen to it. I love a good sound and light show and I can spend hours watching a good storm. I even like sleet, if I don`t have to work out in it and snow is so much fun to watch falling through the trees and floating down to cover everything in white.

Well, maybe I`m not right, but what do clear skys have to offer up like that except, sunrises and sunsets? You sure don`t get many rainbows out of fair weather either.

You can have your blue bird days, just give me a good storm, or a good steady rain!”

“Oops, I wasn`t going to show you that one, I was just writing in the box and I thought I hit clear entries.

I guess not!LOL”

“Bigfoot, lucky for us you DIDN'T hit the clear button or we wouldn't get to share your story. How do you manage to come up with so much good stuff? Is it all just packed inside and ready to burst out when you get the thought? How can you express your feelings so quickly and yet in such detail of emotion? Give us some insight (especially those of us who haven't been here long enough to understand)...”

“Now, now Bigfoot, we've all told you your stories are great! (course we aren't writing teachers like Pekka...sniff, sniff........lol!)

pekka, I've been telling him for MONTHS to get his stories saved. Heck, Bigfoot was posting and never saving into a word processing program. I don't know how he does it! LOL!! Bigfoot, you gotta get those kids to show you how to type into word processing program.

First we told him to save them for his kids, realizing these stories would be very important to them, and he "pooh-poohed" us -- BUT kept right on writing. lol!

I keep thinking that since so many of us here enjoy them so much, that there's probably a market out there for a book.... a collection of short stories. (I'm always putting Bigfoot to work, aren't I, Bigfoot? hahahaha....... did you ever write that other place???)

My latest thoughts: Bigfoot, could you do a column once a week? Start hitting up some of your area papers. People love columns and especially ones that hit home, like yours do, and take on the little things in life so many miss.

I was even checking your Arkansas something-or-other Democrat state paper. Looks like they have outdoor pages. (Hey let's aim high! OK, maybe I'll let ya off the hook with a weekly paper to start! lol)

Say, on that website I read about that trial in Bentonville. Where the 20-something-year-old just got charged with first-degree murder. GEEZ!! Man, that guy and his guy friend are totally frickin' warped! I sure hope the other guy gets the first-degree murder charge too. My mind was just reeling when I read what they'd done.”

“Well, first off I don`t know how I do it, but I type maybe five of them in that box for every one you see me do.

Lizs sweetie, I`m sorry!

You`ve been behind me all along and so have others wanting me to write. You have said some very nice things about my writing too and you have tried to help me get started writing a book or to at least save the stuff and now I do save some of it.

Yes I wrote those folks you wanted me to and they got back to me, I just haven`t got back to them again yet.

Oh, because of that, my wife thinks I write you nasty poems!LOL”

“LOL!!! (the truth comes out!)....LOL, Bigfoot!!

You just show her all your poetry on HERE!

If ya want some proofreading before ya said anything out, ya know where to send it (along with those nasty poems!)....MOOOOOOhahahaa”

“LMAO!
You`re gonna get me beat up by her, I guess you know that and I can`t walk good enough to out run her.”

“UTAHIKER, I`m new here too, I haven`t been here a year yet. I`ve never written in my life and I`m not a writer. I got to doing poetry after I had a wreck that left me with nothing else to do. It helped me take my mind off things and gave me a way to reach out. I wouldn`t take for that, it helped me so much at a time I needed something more. I`ve always had a way of seeing things and saying things different than others and I guess that`s what you`re seeing in my junk. I`m just an old country boy that has had a few good times, here and there growing up and I knew the worth of them even way back then. It makes me so happy that some of my thoughts are liked and that I`m not picked on for sharing them. That`s about it, I don`t understand why you see things in what I write, I sure don`t understand it myself, but I have fun doing it. That`s enough for me.”