I ran into an old friend today. I mean, he’s old (which just means that he’s older than me), and he’s a friend, at least in the sense that we seem to be able to tolerate one another. So, “old friend.”
He said something that caught me by surprise, something that is still bugging me, if you want to know the truth. We were talking about kayak trips and gear and what, who, blah, blah… and he said, apropos of nothing obvious, “Well, you don’t do any expedition kayaking anymore, right?” For a split second, an uncomfortable moment, I almost smacked him. And then…
And then I thought about it, and I don’t like the conclusions I came up with. First of all, as casually douchey as that comment was, I have to admit that it is true, more or less. I am not the long-distance voyageur that I once was, but the tone of his comment made me realize that I am not necessarily content to leave it at that. I have ideas. Oh yes, I have many ideas.
I still have all the charts for the coast of Labrador, for example, and a powerful yearn to see the Torngats and the standing stones of the ancient ones. The Taitao Peninsula as well, a trip starting and ending on the island of Chiloe, traversing open ocean and the giant fjords of Patagonian Chile. There’s Scotland and Ascension Island, the Caribbean circle and the coast of Maine. And I still have unfinished business in the Santa Barbara Channel Islands as well as a hankering to see Tasmania. (Seriously. What do I have to do to get to Tasmania?)
I don’t know where I’m going next but I do not believe that I’m done. More on this as it develops.