The Charlie Bravo Story

The mountains are calling

On our travels from the oceans to the mountains, we have found that there is not a more depressing place than the oceans or the mountains. Not the places themselves, but the fact that thete are multitudes “Living lives of quiet desperation” in the immediate proximity to these life giving places, yet they never choose to step out the front door.

For example; mom is from the coast of North Carolina; when we go to visit, we talk to people who haven’t been to the beach in years, but feed instead on the toxic sludge that is pumped into their living rooms via the flat screen. I’m a firm believer that no one should watch the news on a nightly basis unless you’re married to the anchor person, and even then it’s still a bad idea. How can you live so close to such a treasue as the ocean and not pay homage on a regular basis? The same is true of the Rockies, the Ozarks, the arches of Moab, even the muddy ditch out in front of the house,  all places available to us where we can recharge, but not worth a Yankee dime if we don’t plug in.

St Augustine said “life is a book, and those who don’t travel only read one page”; this is why I love to wander, not to escape or evade, but to immerse and wallow, snuffling and bumbling my way from one experience to the next, but I have been granted a precious gift: this page, as it allows me the ability to share my adventures with others.

After reading the story of my incarceration in the crate, many have commented that all mankind is evil; I disagree, as that thinking can only result in one of two actions: A, seperation, or B, aggression. When we hike, dad always looks on the far side of a log before stepping over it, as a  snake could be resting in the shade; he’s been doing this for years and has never seen a snake, but still does it just the same. But at the same time, the possibility of the prescence of the snake cannot deter us from going “out there” in the first place, life is a risky business, but that risk can be managed, and then again, maybe not. Sometimes you just have to let go and roll with it.

Get up. Get out there.

 Not on some type of adrenaline fueled Red Bull type of activity, that’s not what this is all about, but a life spent in service to others can be just as rewarding and dangerous as executing that perfect triple backflip on a Mt Dew commercial.

Now I’m going to find a little adventure of my own and roust Dad out of bed; it’s time to party…

Chark diem!

Join the discussion

  1. Margie Webb

    This post and this picture are so beautiful! And as always, exactly what I needed to read at this moment.

  2. Deidre Marie Goral

    I live in Alberta, Canada but live 4 hours from the mountains. If you love the mountains, Banff is amazing (but a tourist trap unfortunately)

  3. Jeanne Mancinelli

    My parents instilled a love for nature and exploring when I was a young child. Dad loved to drive and “..see what we could see” , and my mother loved gardening. On our trips, she would check out the local flora. I still enjoy doing these activities. Just modified due to health reasons. CHARK deium!

  4. Ching Ching Yeh

    It’s great to read your post again!! Natural always bring me clarity and peace!!

  5. Kathy Moody

    What a beautiful picture. Enjoy your day Charlie.

  6. Diane Brannon-Keech

    A new adventure is always just on the other side of the door. Open it and take it! Happy Friday Casa

  7. Sam Howard

    So very right, adventures abound, just look around. Have a great adventure.

  8. Sandy Runyon Lough

    Charlie girl, you took the words right out of my heart. I couldn’t possibly agree more passionately. I have been so blessed to have traveled most of my life and am blessed to live within walking distance (albeit a long walk) to the Pacific and frequent trips to my heart’s happiest place, the mountains. You are such a wise pup. I’m off to chark this diem.

  9. Margaret A. Smith

    Beautiful photo. I know I always feel better when I’m outside.

  10. Kim Harwood

    These are the remarkable mountains in Queenstown, New Zealand. Where I spent a weekend wandering in January.

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