DAY 1
The Journey begins. I put in at the Saxapahaw access. I thought about putting in at Alamance Creek near the house and flowing into the Haw. This would only serve to add about a day to the journey along with 3 portages. One of the portages would be substantial and all this would only add minimal miles to the trip. Plus, with the first day being only a half day, I wanted to go ahead and get on with the show. I do not regret this decision as I was able to paddle all the way past Bynum Dam before getting out for the day. The first day was filled with small rapids and braided river channels. The water level was a little on the low side the entire trip, but was not terrible. The scenery was great! It was fun to wrestle the boat into the small lines available. It was clear within the first day that the Kodiak would have been an evil monster to paddle on the upper portion of my trip. I am very happy I did not bring it. I still have the boat, but this was not the trip for it. The Tsunami maxed my level of abilities in the aspect of squeezing a sea kayak type boat through manky, tight, low water class 1 and 2 rapids. I looked at it as a challenge to find a way through without having to get out and walk it through. I endured many the "scoochies" (where you scooch, pull and push along because you just dont want to get out) on the first two days. Never the less, it was either impossible, too time consuming, or damaging to the boat to attempt in some spots. I got out for at shallow rapids 3 or 4 times that day. I saw many bald eagles and ospreys fishing on this stretch. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 eagle sightings the whole trip. I even witnessed an osprey snatching a fish from the river and caught the fly away on film.
I wanted to pass the Bynum dam to camp on an island before dark. I knew I should be able to do it, but never had been on this exact type of trip and at this point was really only hoping I could do it. The trip was to total 231 miles. My goal was at least 30 miles a day. I knew there would be twenty extra miles to make up somewhere to finish in 7 days, which was my goal. I had calculated the current and wind and decided to negate these factors and rely only on my average sustainable paddle speed as if on flat water for figuring. This would prove to be a perfect way of figuring time/distance for this river. The current was variable around 2ish mph at flow, to negligible about half the time . The wind was all over the place. By using my etrex gps as a dashboard of sorts. I forced myself to maintain 4 mph the entire day. I set it up so that it would stay on display all day attached to my deck bag. I could always look down to see if I was actually putting in the effort I though I was. If I could sail at 4, I would. If I had current, I kept paddling to make hay while the sun shone. If I had current and wind, and could sail at 5.5 mph or higher, I relaxed. No real wind and a lot of tight spots meant a lot of hard paddling. I knew the first day would be the toughest due to terrain and river texture. The portage would difficult as well as it is not set up for ease of use for boaters. I had planned to make less than 30 but really wanted to make my checkpoint at that island before dark.
At Bynum dam, I was faced with two options. I could either totally unload the boat and wrestle my gear and boat in several trips, or try to get help and do it in one. This is a portage that requires man power. I could not use the C-tug because of the terrain. Below the dam was a Latino family enjoying the Saturday evening fishing together. I began a conversation in spanish and after 10 or 15 minutes of talking about everything from how I learned Spanish to construction to Mexico, to fishing, I offered to pay them for some help toting my loaded boat around the dam. They declined the money and jumped at the chance to help the crazy kayaker with the insanely heavy boat. After the portage, I tried again to pay them, but they had nothing of it. They probably saved me 30 minutes or better from having to unpack, duffle the gear, tote it all in three trips, and repack the kayak. I am often glad I took the time to learn Spanish to a conversational level. It has proved immensely useful for me in a lot of situations. To say the least, I am glad they were there.
I put back in below the dam and finagled my way through the maze of rocks and weeds and small islands. I remember feeling so happy to pass that 15-501 bridge, I took a picture of it. The hardest portage and the hardest day was behind me...I hoped. It didnt matter, I was here and things were going smoothly. I was on pace and felt like my preparation was perfect for the trip. Now to bebop through the braids and find that island to make camp for the night. I had decided to to stealth camp near populated areas. I never really told anyone how far I was going, or where I was from. I have camped in grizzly country on multiple occassions. With my current job, I sleep over 100 nights a year in the woods. My only concern at night alone is the human aspect of things. Dont get me wrong, I am not afraid of people. I just think that if nobody knows exactly where I am other than my contacts, and no one can easily find me if they are looking, I like it better. At the end of the day, I found a nice island. I pulled my boat up, brushed it in, and set up camp. I decided to not make fires as I really didnt need them. I did my water heating on my camp stove and settled in for the night. After making coms with my wife, sending the grid up to Matt and getting confirmation, and studying the map for the morning, I was toast. Into the Hennessey I melted...a great day!
DAY 2
What a great night of sleep. I woke to the sunrise and put on my water for coffee. I will note that one item I did not bring that would have been great is a thermos. I would have liked to enjoy my coffee on the river too. Oh well. After a quick breakfast I packed up and was off. Most mornings would greet me with the fog on the water from the water being warmer than the air. It made for pleasant paddling and great scenery. Conditions were again perfect for paddling.
Today, I knew the challenge would be the braided stretches where the flow will grow and evaporate through the rock jumbles. This would culminate with the stretch of class 3 whitewater that flows into Lake Jordan. Now this is low end and low water 3 - I dont want to oversell what it was. Going was slow. I noticed the boat taking a lot of abuse on the rapids. The plastic was deforming while going over rocks. This was only noticable just in front of the seat. It would push in until hitting the area reinforce by the seat itself. The continual stress caused some significant oil canning there. I began to wonder just how much that would affect the performance. I also started thinking about that great Prijon Plastic that would not have done that. Oh-well. I could order up a new kayak drop - which in case was needed, was planned. I was committed and would monitor the situation. It should be ok.
This stretch saw me in and out of the boat simply due to the shallow nature of the river here. After some time, I found myself in the familiar last stretch before Jordan Lake. I managed through that stretch with only one short in and out. I will note that during the day, I made a few broaches that were not significant in terms of danger. It is just impossible to navigate that size boat, laden with gear, with that little water with that much rock. I just stepped out and freed the kayak. If you are not familiar with how to act in this situation you may spend a little quality wet time. If you have doubts, just walk. I was stubbornly addicted to not walking if at all possible.
Lake Jordan was a drastic change to the terrain. I went from scenic small river straight into fairly large lake. I simply put the nose in the right direction, dropped my rudder and paddled on. Not much of note to speak of except the slight feeling of slowness when comparing yourself to the motorboats that keep zipping back and forth towing skiers. I just wanted to get through the water and back onto the river again.
Finally at the portage ramp for the dam, I soon realized that this was far and above the toughest portage. I probably could have asked one of the engineers to drive me around, but I didnt. It was a few hundred yards up a hill, down a road, and through a large grass field, then down a steep embankment of rocks. I was toast when I finished this one. I opted to just leave the boat loaded and strap the C-tug to it and go. This worked great, but took a lot of effort. I would learn the art of portage with a cart before the trip was done.
Finally, the end of the portage! I was back in the water and paddling. Suddenly, I noticed a bass boat. hmmm....I knew I had one more portage left at the Buckhorn dam. I did not anticipate the back water from that dam to go all the way to the Jordan dam. I was really hoping to see current again after the lake. Oh well. I paddled on. This stretch included the confluence of the Haw and the Deep Rivers. It is at this point that the river becomes the Cape Fear River. Aside from some neat bridges and spots of beatutiful scencery, there was nothing especially nice about this stretch between the dams. I tried to sail a couple of times but there was not enough wind. There was a lot of boat traffic near the public river access and I was looking forward to getting back into the more remote stretches. Just a mile or so above the Buckhorn dam, I passed a fellow kayaker in an old town loon. He was paddling into the wind. I noticed how erratic his track in the water was and was thankful for my rudder. When we passed he asked me if I was going to Buckhorn, I replied yes. After the usual meaningless courtesies, we were both off.
Once at the dam, I determined the portage was on river left. After poking for a minute, I knew the steep nature of this portage would require unloading the boat, climbing a steep bank in three trips, then being able to load it and use the cart. I had to large military duffles just for this - they worked great. I could get all the gear into the two duffles. One had back pack straps. I could make small trips with both bags, then one more trip for the boat. This is what I did. Upon wheeling the kayak and gear to the water's edge, I noticed a truck pulling in to the parking area. It was the paddler from above the dam. He seemed to want to know a lot about where I was going, from where, etc...I was trying at first to be vague while I figured him out. After a few minutes of talking, I told him about the trip. He looked down and told me he didnt have anything to do and if I didnt mind, he could show me down the next stretch of river. There was a lot of rock gardens and he knew all the lines. Now, this guy could make the Duck Commander crew jealous with his beard and look. Not being offput by his initial appearance, I told him if he wanted to go, I would love to have him along for that portion. He was going to make it to Lillington and have his wife pick him up there. Wanting to know how far I was heading, I gave him a concocted story of two possible locations depending on where I was by night fall. One was before Lillington, one was after. This would give me an out either way. I made up some phony locations on the map and showed him. I still didnt know this guy from Adam. I repacked the boat differently here. I felt I was too bow heavy. I put much more of the weight to the rear which made maneuvering much much easier. I was still fairly balanced but definitely stern heavy. The adjustment made a big difference. Off we went.
This guy's name was Billy. He turned out to be good people. We paddled and talked for hours. He did know a few great shortcuts and really saved me some time. It was nice to have a fellow paddler around. We made great time and paddled a really beautiful stretch of river. From Buckhorn dam down, I really enjoyed the river. There were rapids, flat areas, more rapids. The shallow nature of the river made the water faster. Raven Rock State Park had some beautiful scenery and one decent rapid. It was a breath of fresh air!
Nearing nightfall and Lillington, we came up on the location that was supposed to be my campsite. It was a random field that happened to have a deck overlooking the river. He was very thankful to have accompanied me on this leg. He said he didnt have a group to paddle with most times and most people didnt like the beard. Didnt bother me I told him, we shook hands and off he paddled. Now I knew from paddling with him about how far he could see. I got back in my boat and followed him from a distance for a mile or so until I got to my true camping location which was an island above Lillington. I followed a small slough for a couple hundred yards and pulled off and up into the brush to disappear for the night. What a great way to end a long day. Another perfect little campsite on an island. Again, the Hennessey goes up, I make my coms, send the grid and go to sleep after a quick dinner. While talking with Billy, he told me about his favorite stretch of river which was Lillington to Erwin - just a few miles ahead. I slid into sleep anticipating the next day of great paddling. Did I mention being a little sore? I had been smoking down some miles and sleeping was no issue.
DAY 3
I awoke to light rain. A rabbit met his end to some critter in the bushes just outside my hammock around midnight. Other than that, it was another great night of sleep. I repacked the boat after the Buckhorn dam. I put much more of the weight to the rear which made maneuvering much much easier. I was still fairly balanced, but the adjustment had made a big difference. I made a mountain house meal - breakfast wraps meal. It was pretty good in the relative sense of camping food. I quickly packed up during a moment between showers. Being warm enough, I forwent any rain gear. The work of paddling would keep me warm. Just as I shoved off, the bottom fell out for about 30 minutes. Then the sun came out and thus began my favorite day of paddling of the trip. After passing Lillington by a mile or two, it changed nature . The river through here was beautiful. The rapids were constant at about 1/2 mile apart or so and just big enough to be fun. I didnt have to worry about aiming the battleship so much as the channels through the rapids were wider. There was a lot of good current due to the shallower nature and greater fall to the river. This was no doubt my favorite stretch on the trip. There was always something to look at. Small rock islands and riffles and turns and bends, always something neat around the corner. There was also some really high bluffs in the area. The terrain was considerably steeper than I anticipated. I could even include the post Buckhorn section from the previous day on this stretch, but there was more flatwater up there. I just kept paddling and the river just kept giving me beautiful scenery and features. If the entire trip was like this section, I would paddle it every year.
Making somewhere around 7 mph all afternoon was a real boost. Once I could predict my arrival at Fayetteville, I arranged the meet up with my friend Andrew. I was going to dump some excess gear and food, pick up some more water, and try to stiffen my hull from the oil canning. I calculated that at max speed for the next two hours, I was going to be half an hour late of meeting him around dinner time. Instead I waved him off until after night fall due to a meeting. At this point, I just kicked up my feet on the deck and floated the rest of the day into fayetteville. I remember relishing every little rapid and riffle knowing that it was all about to come to an end as the deep water from the lock and dam system began just before Fayetteville. I can still remember the last section of river bottom I could see as I passed over. Kinda sad in a way. A river and its rapids buried forever. I ended up making around 40 miles.
I met up with Andrew around 9pm. We loaded the boat and headed for a burger and his house. I stopped by lowes and picked up to 1" by 36"metal flat bars. I duct taped them heavily to protect the hull and then bent them so to push the hull back into shape. When slid under the seat, they worked perfectly to straighten the hull out. On a side note, once at home, I used heat to return the hull to its original form...but this would work for now.
DAY 4
At first light, Andrew took me by Chic fil a and two biscuits later, I was at the landing again. There is no good place to camp around Fayetteville. You need to pull up early, or push through this area. Needing to fix my hull, I opted to just go to Andrew's house. It kinda felt like cheating, but the biscuits were good! At the access, the local fire and ems crews were practicing some rescue maneuvers. Also with them was a local reporter. They saw a potential side story and I ended up telling about my trek to the lady and she agreed to wait a couple of days before going to print. After a short photo shoot, I was off again into the ever winding horizon.
This day would be my hmf day. There was a lot of wind this day. Most of it was head wind. I did get some small sail time in, but not much. I just kept coming around the bend hoping for something neat, but it was all the same and not very impressive. I kept saying oh, hmf to myself. I did cross the first of the three lock and dams. After dragging my boat out of the river, the lockmaster offered to drive me around and launch me at the bottom ramp. I was more than happy to accept his offer. It was not a super hard portage, but a truck ride is def easier. On the other side, he noted he and some others would be at the next one after lunch the next day. If I made it by then, they would help there too. Off I went again.
Below here, the scenery began to improve slowly There were supposed to be alligators here on occasion, but I didnt see any. The lock master said I would see some after the second lock and dam and definitely towards and after the third. I was looking forward to my first on river gator sighting. I just kept paddling on. Making 4 mph minimum occupied most of my thoughts during the day as the river didnt demand any concentration. I was slowly accepting what I already knew would be the new reality of the river. It was going to be a virtual 150 long lake all the way to the coast. The current was minimal and there were to be no more rapids or anything else that remotely resembled one due to the dams. The system gave the barges a minimal of 8 ft of depth to navigate from the coast all the way to Fayetteville. I was learning how to be a flatwater/sea kayaker. Give up the need for speed and texture and enjoy the scenery and serenity of the area. That is where I found my solace. It was very remote feeling and very beautiful.
By the end of the day, I was a little ahead of schedule. The land was changing. More and more mud and occasional cypress trees. I did notice that the drainages were different. There were fewer and fewer big creeks that joined the river. As the topo becomes flatter, the land does not canalize the water. Smaller more frequent streams were the norm. A small trickle would be found every 100 yards or so rather than big creeks every 1/2 mile to mile or so. I paddled an entire day without seeing a notable creek. Just an observation. I was really starting to enjoy the trip again. The Fayetteville stretch was a beast that needed slaying so I could continue my trek. The beast was dead. I found a great little cypress island that had my name on it. If you dont know, picking a campsite while hiking or paddling is a little bit or art and a little bit of science. Sometimes I find myself never stopping in search of the perfect site. This night was such a night. However, this time, I did find the perfect site. I did the usual evening rituals and nodded off to sleep. I was thoroughly enjoying this adventure!
DAY 5
The morning broke and was immediately warm and pretty. I made breakfast and coffee and soaked up the prettiest sunrise I have seen in quite some time. I stopped packing and just took it in. Alone in the cypress/hardwood border swamps, nothing on the menu but paddling into the unknown...
I was ahead of schedule and made it to the second lock and dam early morning. I left a note for the lock master that I had already gone through. It was an quite the ordeal to get up and over the bank here. It was super muddy and just feasible enough to want to try it. After finally getting up, I strapped on the cart and wheeled right around to the bottom ramp. Off again. It was a great day. Around lunch or so, I found the first white sand beach of the trip. It was so scenic and not mud, that I had to get out and eat. Usually I ate while sitting drifting in the boat.
Paddling on through the day was pleasant. There was a slight breeze and the temps were slightly cooler. I paddled through the ever more winding river. The transition from piedmont to coastal was very evident over the day before and today. There was still pockets of hardwoods, pines and tall bluffs and then sections of mud and cypress. As I paddled, the terrain became difficult for camping. While all I need is two trees for camping, I couldnt even find that without the 8 foot vertical red mud banks. If it was not banks, it was shin deep mud flat bank...I just kept paddling. I saw my first alligator around mid afternoon. One area had a lot of boat traffic due to the river access. It was the first boats I had seen in a couple of days. I usually had the entire river to myself. Wanting to get away from the crowd, I kept pressing. Finally I found a suitable spot. Pointed the kayak towards shore and about then a 10 foot gator jumped up and slid down the bank just off my bow about 10 yards! I immediately pulled my .44 out just in case he got a bad idea. Having seen a couple of the little 5 - 6ish footers, I was good with them. This big guy was a formidable contender for camping rights. The prospect of being in a hammock just off the ground seemed suddenly less attractive than 10 seconds earlier. I kept paddling.
Not finding any more good options, I made coms from the boat to inform that I was still paddling in the moonlight and had studied the map and found what I hoped would work just ahead. I would call again when camp was set. I paddled for 2 hours in the moonlight. Up ahead was a farm field that edged the river. I had noticed earlier that day that in that situation, the banks were more of a steep bluff than vertical dirt. The very steep hills were pine and hardwood with a tangle of cypress roots right at the bank. Almost 50' up the bluff were the farm fields...raised land left behind in some great flood at some time. I hoped this next one was similar. After two hours of paddling, I arrived at the location, turned on my headlamp and found an oasis of possibilities. I wrangled the boat onto the cypress root pods and hung my hammock over the roots and water. I was against the bluff on one side and over the water on the other. It was perfect and all that was really available. I sent my grid and talked with my wife, strung some noise makers to warn of any possible toothed critters and off to bed I went, a little more tired than normal. I stopped paddling around 11 pm. Call me crazy, but I enjoy that kind of situation. Not that I seek it out, but it makes the adventure better.
cozy campsite on the rootsDAY 6
The day broke sunnny again. I felt good. The aches and pains of paddling were gone and my body was accustomed to paddling all day. A small adjustment to my back band to alleviate a sore spot and all was good. I made around the last lock and dam early in the day and immediately noticed a high water mark on the trees. Had they made a release of water? Had it rained here? surely not. I kept paddling. I enjoyed the scenery but after thinking I was ready to paddle I was making a tremendous effort to maintain my 4 mph minimum. After another hour or so, I noticed the water mark was only 4" above the water, not 12" or so as before. TIDE! No way. I never imagined the tide having an effect this far up the river. It was at this point that I just slid up a side creek and fished for a while. It was the first time I fished the whole trip. Nothing was biting and after an hour or so I just started paddling again. This time, I noticed I was moving at 6 mph with no real extra effort. Ahh, that feels good. I paddled through the day making the most of my new found friend before he sold me out and became my enemy again. The second part of this day was also amazing. I went through some pristine areas and really enjoyed the landscape. The swamps really came to be.
brushy swamp country
cypress swamps above Wilmington
The wild scenery, the twists and turns, the man-made straight sections that removed the twists and turns, the sun, the breeze, the addition of the tide's current and the prospect of knowing nothing but water lay between me and the beach made for a great day. I could spend another day paddling through a stretch like this. As the sun began to fade, I found myself sliding through the cypress swamps. I took a couple of swamp gut shortcuts, enjoying the swamp itself, saw many alligators, just really enjoyed it. I was thinking of hanging up in another cypress root ball area for the night. I rounded one corner and poof...I was in a salt marsh. hmmm....no trees huh? no problem. I could see trees in the distance and surely I would paddle by something I could use. My plan seemed so simple. However there was always 50 yds or better of 10' tall cane and reeds so thick that could stop a train in 5 feet. I drifted around a bend looking for an island and started bottoming out in the mud. Uh oh. I pushed through and made it to the last trees for some distance. To get there, I paddled into an ever narrowing tidal canal. Hoping for the best, I finally made it. There was even a little trail through the reeds to the little island. I soon discovered it was a gator slide...
scouting through the salt marsh
I finally made landfall and was too excited to see the mother of all hammock trees! It was a willow that branched at 3' off the ground. Both trunks were 20" thick or so. A perfect spattering of limbs created the most awesome hammock hang in the history of man kind. I was 12' up and just above the surrounding grasses. The view was incredible. It made for a great sunset. I just hoped my hammock had not yet reached its life span. I would be totally gator proof up here.
hanging in the trees...the grass is head height. bottom of hammock was 12' up.
This was another cool campsite. I think it was the coolness of the location coupled with the relief of finding a spot in where I suspected would be tough. I felt like I was in a jungle. I heard deer walking around underneath me a couple of times. In all reality, there is nothing intrinsically good for camping about this spot other than it had an awesome tree, some dry land and I was not still stuck in the marsh. I enjoyed the evening, sent the grid, talked with my wife and little boogar head and studied the tidal charts and times via smartphone to prepare for the next day. Timing was going to be key.
DAY 7
The sounds of Wimington could be heard though the night. It was in stark contrast to the silence of the previous week. Morning came and I was pumped. I had to wait for the tide to come up enough to navigate the marsh though. So I took some extra time to eat and really button up the gear for the coming ocean. Upon last look around the site, I looked at the launch site. The gator had been watching me. How long? Those things are dinosaurs. I understand bears and other mammalian predators. But gators dont give me the vibe of predictability. I charged him and scared him off while holding my video camera. Once "gone", I waded in, launched and started the day's paddle.
gator checking me out...I borrowed his home for the night.
Paddling past the USS Wilmington was almost like getting off at your exit while driving home from a long trip. I really wanted to stop at the boardwalk and get something to eat and drink for brunch, but I didnt. I wanted to make that tidal timing just right. I had to fight the current for 2.5 hours before the shift. Afterwards, I hoped to have a big tail wind and big current to aid in the final push.
cruising past the USS Wilmington...almost done.
After the shipyard the tide turned. I made great time through the mile wide river. I even got my wish as the wind started pounding. Up came the sail. I rigged it to hold itself up and be able to paddle as well. I was making 6 to7 mph all the way down the corridor towards the intracoastal waterway where I had to shoot up Snow's cut and out Carolina inlet. The sail worked great. Up till this point, it was a nice way to make a little headway while breaking for a few minutes. Now it was a real tool.
sailing the channel
I actually fell asleep for a few minutes after getting out of the channel but still in deep water. It was incredibly relaxing to let the wind do all the work. I simply used my foot controlled rudder to steer. What a great way to relax during the final push. Looking at the time, I began paddling again and folded up the sail at Snow's cut. There is some serious water pushing through here. I am glad the timing worked out perfect. Once around the island to the north, I stopped, secured all loose items, called Chris and let him know I was 30 or 40 min out and then started my path out to sea.
all battened down and ready for the ocean
The ocean was actually pushing some big seas. The difficulty came with the small period between waves. I had to keep the boat nose into the crashing waves for about a mile. I was thoroughly enjoying the big waves and feeling that big boat tossing around. I just simply could not turn south without getting into trouble. No problem. When I finally made my way through the crashers, I was a little over a mile out. I turned towards my destination and enjoyed the rise and fall of the waves and the fact that the water was not flat!
in the open ocean with the end in site...a couple more miles.
The sky was overcast and I was within sight of my final stroke. As i got closer, I could make out my friend's place. A little closer and there he was ready to document my landfall. Hard to believe it was almost over. As I approached the beach, I began to think of the sizable waves that I encountered before. Having never surfed a fully loaded sea kayak, I didnt know what to expect. I did know that good or bad it would all be on video for the world to see.
the last stroke made...sand in my toes...burgers on the menu...
Turns out I caught a spot between two big waves and surfed a little guy right up to Chris. I jumped out, pulled my boat up to his place called my wife and jumped into the ocean to ride in some waves with his surf boards. This is when I realized just how tired I was. We cleaned up and went out for a burger. My wife was set to come in the next day. I showed him pics and videos. We watched a little tv and then crashed. There it was...231 miles. Burlington to the beach. The whole river.
To be truly challenging, a voyage, like a life, must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest. Otherwise, we are doomed to a routine traverse, the kind known yachtsmen who play with their boats at sea..."cruising" it's called. Real voyaging belongs to seamen, and to the wanderers of the world who cannot, or will not, fit in. If you are contemplating a voyage and you have the means, abandon the venture until your fortunes change. Only then will you know what the sea is all about.
"I've always wanted to sail to the seven seas, but I can't afford it." What these men can't afford , is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of "security". And in the worship of security they fling their lives beneath the wheels of routine-and before they know it their lives are gone.
What does a man need-really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in-and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That's all-in the material sense, and we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, playthings that divert our attention for the sheer idiocy of the charade.
The years thunder by, the dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed.
Where, then, lies the answer?
In choice.
Which shall it be?
Bankruptcy of the pocket or bankruptcy of the soul?
-Sterling Hayden
I've got a little something cooking for this summer too...
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