I’m writing this from the backcountry, as I so often do, in my always-at-hand pocket notebook. Where do we head next with this narrative? Perhaps we’ll drop back to my childhood…investigate what might be called the roots of the passion your humble correspondent has for wild places, and for rambling well afoot in such places. Solo for the most part. A singular oddity by most standards. 

And, at intervals, I might toss in some more hunting stories. Or stories about adventures in cranking up two outdoor equipment companies along the way. Some recipes would be appropriate I think…dehydrated elk stew for backpack hunt grub anyone? And my old Possibles Pouch Essay could surely use an update; gear for us outdoor folk has advanced muchly since I penned that piece going on twenty years ago! In short, we’ll likely wander all over. Both in time and in space. Road Trips—or Life Journeys—are like that. Or should be. 

Next: Roots.

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