<< Back 11/20/02 In search of The Adventurous Soul By Scott McLeod I completely understand and have a kinship with The Hard Workers, feel a true affinity in my heart for The Artistic Spirits, and have had some narrow escapes and reckless times hanging with The Crazy Wild Ones. But for reasons I can’t fully explain, it’s The Adventurous Souls that have knocked off the others to claim the top spot in my list of people — or character traits — that I most admire. In my tally of how one should live, they are the epic hero, the grand poobah, the big kahuna. I like hanging with those who have stories, who do things. You can sense the trait almost immediately in people, and as you grow to know them it can be surprising how indomitable that spirit is. For some it’s literal adventure, perhaps traveling non-stop or living in some dangerous world (or underworld). For others it’s an adventure of the mind, people who can cut to the chase in conversation yet remain playful, keep you off balance and intrigued. Still others pursue adventure through their art, some through the unconventional life in a conventional setting. Truth be known, I was working through this realization just a few weeks ago as I drove across the Mississippi River and out of St. Louis, sitting comfortably behind the wheel of my big red van with my family sleeping peacefully all around. We had just spent a wonderful weekend taking part in a wedding that had all one could hope for — a couple crazy in love, a large, quirky family, great food and plenty of cold beer. As we passed the wide open cornfields of southern Illinois, I was replaying the reception, which had officially started with the most appropriate of toasts: “Most of us here have taken part vicariously in the lives and travels of Laura and Mark, wishing ....” Wishing we were doing it, I thought, finishing the sentence in my mind. I’ve been around a bit, but the two who we just married off are going for some kind of record. For the last 20 years they’ve been touring the world: Europe, the Middle East, India, Southeast Asia, Alaska, Hawaii, all parts of the continental U.S., and more. Occasionally they would land in St. Louis or Tybee Island (family haunts), work a while, then hit the road again. Sometimes they took odd jobs while traveling. They’ve lived as hosts at campsites, driven vehicles untold distances for cash, cared for children and senior citizens to raise money or get a free place to stay. Mark once spent about three days flying nonstop on cheap flights to build miles so they could get to some exotic, out-of-the-way locale. Laura and Mark have mastered the art of coming and going, of planning to get there, of dropping by out of the blue and then disappearing for months, maybe years. Their postcards were almost always the most exotic decorations on our fridge. I was longing for that traveling life as I drove along, but I also knew that comparing lives is a dangerous game; the warts — the shortcomings, worries, insecurities — seldom show in our rich imaginations. So instead I began to think about my children, now sleeping around me, and how this trip itself was an awesome event for them. We had found out about the wedding, in perfect Laura and Mark fashion, just 10 days before it was to take place. Did I mention that my wife Lori was asked to be maid of honor? Too late for good prices on flights, we headed to the Midwest via van, putting our jobs on hold (knowing the work would be there upon our return) and pulling the kids out of school for a day. Their experience was rich: big bridges and mighty rivers, the St. Louis Arch, Lewis and Clark’s expedition, a great science museum, and more. In their memories, though, the trip will likely be remembered as something like this: “Dad tries to explain the history of the opening of the West in three boring days of van travel so let’s hurry and get to the hotel indoor swimming pool.” They looked attentive at times when I was rambling on, but I’m at least smart enough to know that my lectures pale in comparison to the attraction of hotel room double beds positioned close enough for kids to jump from one to the other. As I thought of the small adventure of the hotel room and the trip, I also thought that the lifetime travels of Laura and Mark are a way of life I would gladly steer my children toward. We all learn soon enough that possessions — houses, cars, land, stocks — and the trappings of a working life don’t bring with them any joy or fulfillment. No, the fulfillment comes in the relationships, the finding of those adventurous souls. I like them so much I married one. My wife continues to take these trips, and they feed something important in her soul. She and the bride of this story, in fact, met when they spent a semester in the Canary Islands and a summer hitchhiking around Spain. Give her a week in the Nicaraguan hinterlands over a Key West condo any day. She and I did our own little European adventure early on, and before we embarked we divested ourselves of every single possession (which, granted, were few) except what we could carry with us. It was an exhilarating feeling of independence and self -reliability. Whenever I read of explorers, travelers, people hiking the Appalachian Trail, couples sailing across the Atlantic, the realization comes that such adventures are almost always worth the trouble. With children, though, the challenge is knowing when to protect them and when to let them take chances and risks and do something out of the ordinary. Make the right choices, and perhaps their own wedding day toasts will start off describing The Adventurous Soul. I can only hope so. (Scott McLeod can be reached at info@smokymountainnews.com)