I cracked open the door, exposing the contents to light for the first time in nearly two years.
The dusty aroma of sand wafted to my nostrils as I pulled the door of the travel trailer open to its full extent. I gazed silently at the camping gear, nestled and safe in its small apartment-like home. The items snugged away before me brought back a rush of vivid memories, fun times, and moments that helped to shape hundreds of students' lives over the past 10 to 15 years. I began to sift about in the weathered storage totes, brimming with old cooking supplies, tents and tarps, and plastic-shrouded night hike poems.
As I pulled these poems from the place where they’d slumbered for the past two years, I remembered the night hike through the goblins. I recalled reading these poems by the light of eerie lanterns while a star explosion took place overhead; the Milky Way spread through the blackness of night like a smearing of fresh butter on burned toast. Looking up at that sky was surreal. Hiking amongst the hoodoos by the light of glow sticks was unforgettable.
I pushed away the thoughts and climbed into the back of the trailer, wishing I’d thought to bring a change of clothes rather than soil the items I usually wore to school. Ah well, the dirt and dust—familiar to me—was a welcome dirtifier of my clothes. I felt a trill of excitement as I rummaged back further into shadowy corners, memories spilling out from each cloud of ancient dust—having been locked away in that storage trailer; protected and shielded from the ravages of time.
The idea of the upcoming trip, though not to the scope of magnitude that it at one time was, still makes me smile though two of my trusty sidekicks won’t be along with me for this one.
This is my adventure.
I leave in 30 minutes.