Those words run through my mind as I hike back to my truck. Carefully picking my route through a central Florida swamp, I’m finishing up a February morning of chasing small kills and cheap thrills. Squirrels and bream were on the docket today. But the size of my quarry didn’t matter. Today was about tapping into the adventure spirit.
The morning started fairly chilly. Contrary to popular belief, Florida is not warm year round. Actually, it can get quite cold for about an hour in the morning during a couple weeks out of the year. Brutal stuff.
Kidding aside, it’s thick, buggy, humid, and about as close to jungle hunting in the tropics as one can get in the Eastern time zone. I crept my way downstream, stalking amongst the bands of oaks that flanked the waterway. Using the saw palmettos for cover and an immense amount of patience, I brought a few bushytails to hand with carefully placed headshots. The panfish were hungry and punched well above their weight.
Being Deliberate
I chose a spot on the map just to see if I could walk there. I armed myself with a Marlin bolt action .22LR that I bought as a young Airman just after boot camp. It still wears the original iron sights because I’m a glutton for punishment. Shooting sticks of the African PH style pull double duty as a mobile shooting rest and alligator probe. In my pack is a homemade handline rig using a Coke bottle for a spool and tackle storage. Baited with squirrel bits and some insects I found on the creek bank, the apparatus proved more than sufficient for the panfish that were most active in that wild section of the river. The lack of shock absorbing rod added to the enjoyment of the fight. My loadout was very deliberate. I wasn’t looking for efficient squirrel killing. I was purposefully driven to have a different experience. Something that would throw in some variety, challenge, and a splash of flair. When one looks for adventure in seemingly ordinary places, one has to be imaginative.
On Equal Terms
My mind wondered back to so many forays around the world. I had hunted the lowveld of Africa, rocky isles in Europe, and the jagged ridges of Anatolia. They were different in intensity and scale but equal in their own ways to this morning public land hunt. In that moment when the predatory instincts take over and I’m connected to generations of humans lost to time, everything else fades away. It doesn’t matter what or where, the feeling is the same. The intense focus, the acute senses, the fight against my own adrenaline, and the balancing act between moving and staying perfectly still. On a macro level, the consequence is always the same. I either obtain meat or leave empty handed.
Purpose
Therein lies the reason for starting this site. I wanted to showcase the wide variety of adventures to be had if you just know where to look. This is also to document my own journey of self-discovery. Improving myself through nearly forgotten skills and partaking the widest array possible of outdoor pursuits. In short, I strive to live a strenuous life. So from the back 40 to the backcountry and beyond, find an adventure worth having.