28 September 2011

I have always considered myself to be adventurous and I have always enjoyed the outdoors.  For some reason I can't explain, I don't like to tell people that I was a Scout growing up.  My love for the outdoors  started with Scouts though.  My brothers were in it, and I eventually became one.  It started with small camp outs, father teaching me to make a fire or both my parents showing me how to set up a tent and tie knots.  The first mountain that I climbed was Spanish Peaks in the Sangre De Cristo range in Colorado.  It was invigorating,  something that I had never felt before.  Granted this mountain is not a fourteener, but ever since my encounter with this peak,  the first time I had seen a mountain with my own eyes.  Even seeing a wild animal such as a bear walking through our campsite,  it always calls me back.  I know it sounds insane to most people, but to those who climb and enjoy the sanctuary of the wilderness, the aloneness is the forest, and freedom you feel on top of those majestic peaks.  You understand then.