Wow. Day 20. You really lose track of time out here. Not only that, but you often lose track of the day of the week and that is strangely enjoyable for me. So anyway, the day….
Departing blindly into the fog of our early morning, relying on nothing but a compass bearing to guide us reminded ze of the many voyagers who have traveled this waterway before us. Heading out on the water in search of furs or adventure or perhaps even something more. I was reminded again of the many that have made this journey before us as I walked the portage trails, nearly doubled over from the weight of my pack.
It takes something special to be out here, to be doing this. I’m not exactly sure what that “something” is, but each of us in the group possess it in our own ways. We’re learners, workers, thinkers, and adventurers in our own right, and maybe each of us is a bit confused as to why exactly we’re out here, but with each paddle stroke we take, we’re each a little closer to our answers.
Laying here in my tent, listening to the water rush past to my left and Denver trying to haggle Sal for a Cry Baby, I think maybe we’re not necessarily here for our own personal reasons, but we’re here for all the people in our lives. The people we’re sharing this experience with, the people we’ve left to come here, the people we have yet to meet, and the people who aren’t fortunate enough to be here with us. Perhaps we’re doing this to show the world how simple and beautiful life can be once you leave the couch, television, and microwave behind.
This here, these trees overhead and the dirt in our fingernails, this is what the real world is.