Maybe I've already written about it, but it's on my mind, so into the blog it goes..again. When Ted and I lived in Tennessee, we spent a considerable amount of time backpacking. We had two old army rucksacks and kept them packed at all times so that we could throw a couple of MRE's on top and head out for the weekend. Most of our trips were spent hiking the chasms of Big South Fork and Savage Gulf, with an occasional trip to the Smokies, or Mammoth Caves.
We'd leave on Friday afternoon's, drive a couple hours with our sandals on, park our car, lace up our boots, put on our rucks and go. Those trails brought us flowers in the spring, lush green leaves in the summer, deciduous colors in the fall and the ability to see the forest through the trees in the winter.
I always felt closest to where we should be, evolutionarily speaking, when it'd be just two humans and a fire and nothing else. The tracks of salt left on our faces highlighted by the flames on a chilly night, were tactile reminders of the physical exertion it took to get right in the middle of nowhere.
These experiences, along with the cumulative life adventures that we have shared continue to fuel my passion for being alive right now. So glad we decided against watching reruns of 80's sitcoms instead!