On the road to Willy's
The truck broke down in the middle of nowhere, as it should, around midnight. It was raining, and Willy suggested that we'd walk to his house. The Coast is not very populated at all, and Willy's house was somewhere in the far end of a rural road, several miles away from a town which belongs to a native band. He also said that people saw a big jaguar in the woods around this area somewhere, and that jaguars are very smart at hunting humans.
We left the truck behind and began to climb up when Rob collapsed in the middle of the road. He seemed to have lost his coordination and could not stand on his feet. We helped him raised and start walking slowly ahead. Rob kept asking what was the opposite of gravity, and then suggested that it must have been levitation. He did not make much sense except in the context of the conversation that we had had earlier, in a very low voice while everybody were enjoying the Sunday meal at the farm. But Willy did not kow about the content of this conversation, nor did he notice that Rob took a small amount of some native medicinal stuff some time before we were asked to drive him home, quite far away from the farm. And so to him Rob must have seemed insane, to start talking about levitation while hardly standing on his feet in the middle of some distant rural road surrounded by dark temperate rainforest. Ironically, in the time of cell-phones, none of us had one. True adventures for some reason happen beyond the reach of technology. We walked very slowly, Rob was tripping, while Willy and I were holding him from the both sides.
The jaguar never appeared. But I felt that while we were walking on the road surrounded by dark trees some invisible eyes were watching us. Perhaps I was simply paranoid by the unexpected adventure of the evening which promised nothing of the sort... But hey! Real adventures are rarely planned. Are they also rarely pleasant. Usually they are a mix of stuff: dirty roads, broken trucks and unexpected revelations accompanied by random stupidity, mundane nuisance all all-encompassing ephiphanies. Pre-fabricated experiences lack such richness. They are one-dimensional, very frequently so, like trips to the Disney land which are safe but ultimately shallow.
We left the truck behind and began to climb up when Rob collapsed in the middle of the road. He seemed to have lost his coordination and could not stand on his feet. We helped him raised and start walking slowly ahead. Rob kept asking what was the opposite of gravity, and then suggested that it must have been levitation. He did not make much sense except in the context of the conversation that we had had earlier, in a very low voice while everybody were enjoying the Sunday meal at the farm. But Willy did not kow about the content of this conversation, nor did he notice that Rob took a small amount of some native medicinal stuff some time before we were asked to drive him home, quite far away from the farm. And so to him Rob must have seemed insane, to start talking about levitation while hardly standing on his feet in the middle of some distant rural road surrounded by dark temperate rainforest. Ironically, in the time of cell-phones, none of us had one. True adventures for some reason happen beyond the reach of technology. We walked very slowly, Rob was tripping, while Willy and I were holding him from the both sides.
The jaguar never appeared. But I felt that while we were walking on the road surrounded by dark trees some invisible eyes were watching us. Perhaps I was simply paranoid by the unexpected adventure of the evening which promised nothing of the sort... But hey! Real adventures are rarely planned. Are they also rarely pleasant. Usually they are a mix of stuff: dirty roads, broken trucks and unexpected revelations accompanied by random stupidity, mundane nuisance all all-encompassing ephiphanies. Pre-fabricated experiences lack such richness. They are one-dimensional, very frequently so, like trips to the Disney land which are safe but ultimately shallow.