Contemplating Adventures

I’ve always been ready to go. No matter where. No matter when. Just mention even the hint of adventure or go; I’m ready—my bag is packed. I’ve always been that way. If the opportunity is there; go do it.

Early in my life, I found my calling—adventure. It made no difference whether it was a trip to old Sportsman Park in St Louis when I was four (I remember like it was yesterday) to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play my favorite (still today), the Cardinals or the chance to climb on Mount McKinley (Denali) when I was twenty-five—I have always been ready to go.

I had paddled the Quetico Wilderness of Canada for nine days in my mid-teens; seeing no living sole other than ourselves during the middle five days. I’ve spent time on the Shenandoah and the Delaware with my son and rafted the New with the wife and daughter. I’ve raced the Colorado (TX) from Buchanan Lake to Town Lake and nearly survived.

I’ve river boated the Yukon and the Kuskokwim Rivers conducting rescue missions saving flood victims—both Native Americans and foolish Whites. I have battled the blizzards and extremes of Alaska, including supporting the first two runnings of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race, all the while leading men who never shirked from the hardship and were as professional as any could possibly be.

Further south, I participated in and oversaw operations that fought and overcome snow disasters in Ohio, New York, and Massachusetts and floods in Ashville, North Carolina and Johnstown, New York (the 2^nd, not the 1^st). Never giving in, we rescued thousands from their ever-present doom.

I’ve walked the Freedom Trail in Boston, climbed the steps of the Bunker Hill Memorial and

stood my ground at both Lexington and Concord. I’ve visited and studied the two most decisive surrender sights in American History: Yorktown and Appomattox, both coincidentally in Virginia.

I’ve had Route 66 as part of my address and traveled most of it. I’ve stood where George Armstrong Custer last stood and stood on both observation decks of the Empire State Building and World Trade Center Building #1.

I’ve conducted aviation refuel operations above the Arctic Circle and felt the sting of -112ºF on the top of Donnelly’s Dome; actually having spent the night under canvas within eighteen months of the two occasions at both 112s (-112ºF, Fort Greely, AK & +112ºF, Fort Walton Beach, FL).

I’ve taken on the challenges of corporate America to salvage operations of organizations and the people being pulled asunder by those who lack the knowledge and understanding to lead themselves out of the catastrophic circumstances they created for themselves; succeeding in every situation.

Red Coleman Canoe up against outback fence

Now, I am hindered by two shoulders that don’t function as well as they should; one much more so than the other. Now, I may be much past my prime and unable to go as I once could. I stand here on my deck looking out over my backyard gazing at the red canoe propped up on plastic saw horses from the Home Depot; that same canoe that I had used over the years in many of my adventures and think to myself: “I wonder if I will ever adventure again.” The memories say yes, but the body says otherwise.