- Joined
- Nov 28, 2005
- Messages
- 293
I grew up in the kind of wild place that books are written about. Growing up wild and free was not unknown back in the 60s and 70s as the lower 48 still had many a mysterious place with deep dark forests and snake infested fish filled swamps. Beyond the treeline on the other side of our garden lay a forest that I was never as a kid able to walk through to the other side. I never found a road beyond the mountain and I never saw another human there until I went back years later and discovered they had built a road around the private land and bought out a timber company in order to develop the area. I have known about the road for ten years now.
As a kid we had a unlimited amount of wildlife. Turkeys, the odd bear, big bucks and plenty of doe, one of the last confirmed cougars that was ever seen in the region, and if you told somebody a bigfoot lived back there they would believe it as it was truly wild back then. In the 70s it was normal for game and fish to show up and ask about the Eagles in the area. They would even have one of the guys go survey them for a week at a time parking his truck at our place. We considered ourselves care takers and would watch them for hours when they nested with binoculars from a mile or so away sitting at the kitchen table. I guess every dream I have ever lived out was started with Sunday pancakes, a kids ration of coffee, and binoculars watching eagles, bluebirds, and the side of a mountain I thought would be forever wild. At night I would sit by the lamp reading and reading again our collection of Blade magazines before lights out, then I would lay awake listening to the whippoorwills till I passed out from a day alone in the woods with my dog.
Today I'm about as sick as I can be as my wild place is no longer wild, its now a series of roads leading to a kingdom of mobile homes and meth heads. I just spent the last couple hours using Google maps to find the old family home and was shocked by the complete destruction of the area that I was once convinced was the wildest place on earth. I guess I'm damm lucky to have been able to play there as a kid but now I feel completely empty outside of my memories, I guess that's the story of many a old man but I don't even feel old yet, maybe Thomas Wolf was right, Now I know I can never go home again as home is no longer there.
As a kid we had a unlimited amount of wildlife. Turkeys, the odd bear, big bucks and plenty of doe, one of the last confirmed cougars that was ever seen in the region, and if you told somebody a bigfoot lived back there they would believe it as it was truly wild back then. In the 70s it was normal for game and fish to show up and ask about the Eagles in the area. They would even have one of the guys go survey them for a week at a time parking his truck at our place. We considered ourselves care takers and would watch them for hours when they nested with binoculars from a mile or so away sitting at the kitchen table. I guess every dream I have ever lived out was started with Sunday pancakes, a kids ration of coffee, and binoculars watching eagles, bluebirds, and the side of a mountain I thought would be forever wild. At night I would sit by the lamp reading and reading again our collection of Blade magazines before lights out, then I would lay awake listening to the whippoorwills till I passed out from a day alone in the woods with my dog.
Today I'm about as sick as I can be as my wild place is no longer wild, its now a series of roads leading to a kingdom of mobile homes and meth heads. I just spent the last couple hours using Google maps to find the old family home and was shocked by the complete destruction of the area that I was once convinced was the wildest place on earth. I guess I'm damm lucky to have been able to play there as a kid but now I feel completely empty outside of my memories, I guess that's the story of many a old man but I don't even feel old yet, maybe Thomas Wolf was right, Now I know I can never go home again as home is no longer there.