Adventure kayaking. That's been a hot topic since the recent presumed death of Andrew McCauley, in his attempt to paddle from Austrailia to New Zealand. I was vaguely aware of the attempt, the information of it forming some kind of background noise in my consciousness. Which gives an indication of my general lack of enthusiasm for grand expeditions, epic attempts, daring adventures and all that. Not that I glare down on it with dissapproval. I'm not one of those who would judge that these adventurers are merely selfish glory hounds, too self-absorbed to care about what effect their indulgence may have on those who depend on them. I make no effort at all to easily maintain that as none of my business. It's just that it doesn't much inspire me, or even interest me.

I think Derrick Mayoleth said it well by pointing out that some among us are "wired" to do this sort of thing. Not for money, not for the praise of others, but because the grand expedition would sustain one's passion for life; that one may be more fully alive and share this vigor with those around him or her. At least that's how I'm imagining it might be.

But from the perspective of one who has occasionally read an account of such an endeavor, it's usually mostly boring. Paddle for a long time, stop for lunch, then paddle some more, rest for awhile, then paddle again, then sleep. Wake up the next day, do it again. Actually, it sounds pretty good, if I'm the one doing it, but my attention tends to wander during the reading of it.

Yet many people love this stuff and want to hear all about it, and follow along with the progress of it, if at all possible.

This post is running aground, but I'm going to publish it anyway, if only to inspire me to do something better. People tend to do what they want or what they need to do, and fortunately, it's mostly good or harmless. There's a nice nugget of kitsch wisdom.

Till later...

Greg