Spring break vacation.
A protective ballcap, a bandana, three flashlights, flint and steel, twin vials of two different poisons—made by me—, plus a stash of wild found pain medicine, a compass (I know, everyone with a good grip on survival shouldn’t need one of those, but hey, remember my motto?), my emergency medical book (Hey, I haven’t memorized the whole thing yet!), two pairs of goggles (no I wasn’t expecting to grow another head and be lost in the everglades, but it always pays to be prepared, as I hope you are beginning to understand) and of course, my sharpening stone. Needless to say, I had two bags chock full. My mom was shocked that I—a boy— had packed so much. I offered no explanation, just a grin.
After checking and triple checking my ducks and chickens in their coups, I was ready to go.
Soon we were blazing over the sprawling Texas flats and wide lakes. By the way, gas prices are outrageous near lakes, so don’t get caught with an empty tank by a lake! Just a reminder.
The trees haven’t fully awakened this year, so I spent the time soaking in the scene of gray jumbles that were soon going to explode into massive broccoli heads. (That was an exotic word play.)
We filled up our stomachs at Arby’s. Hmm. Interesting. My first time at Arby’s. I found the pumps of sauces enticing and returned to our table with a flooded roast beef sandwich. I enjoy every food, pretty much despite taste. One exception: the banal.
We were soon back on the road, traversing around the red brick buildings of east Texas. We climbed into a little town, named after one of the most iconic cities in the world, I’m not going to tell you which one, though. We turned our dogs into my grandmother… in the more simplistic of the ways—no magic involved. Bless her heart, I only hoped the dogs didn’t perform more naughty antics than she could put up with. After soaking in the sunlight from a falling sun, we split ways and moved on.
Our van bounced along the roads, which were becoming more rural by the mile. Bumps and more bumps. I felt like a bobblehead.
We hit the last town before the lake, and I am not kidding, some reason, there were only a handful of lights spread throughout the entire city. Odd, to be sure. I tried to convince myself that it was for the sake of preserving the natural night sky rather than to allow western outlaws to skulk the city. Either way, I would be enjoying the midnight sky, I anticipated that much.
It only grew darker the further out we went… but I noticed that all the buildings became activities and things for people to do during their stays here. We pulled off the road and the tires munched gravel. We wound through the labyrinthic roads that led through a forest of immensely tall pines.
It wasn’t long before we found our cabin. A large, rustic styled cabin of three bedrooms, plus a hot tub, it could sleep thirteen, there was nothing we lacked. It immediately felt like home.
Until the next post…