Society, you’re a crazy breed I hope you’re not lonely without me… Eddie Vedder


Rewind to March 16, 2015, I was in the last stages of planning for a four-month adventure. I was leaving my society life and entering a new way of life—wilderness life. I didn’t know what to expect. I knew what I was leaving but not where I was going.

Fast forward to March 16, 2017, I’m in the last stages of planning for a two-week adventure. I am leaving my society life and entering a new way of life. I know what to expect. I know what I am leaving and where I am going. However,  the life I am leaving looks different than it did two years ago—changed because of what my life on the river taught me.

One thing living on the river taught me is that I don’t want to spend so much time taking care of my stuff. The consumerism, which proves often to be more of a ball and chain than the convenience society would have us believe. Conveniences aren’t really convenient when I have to spend time and money taking care of them—they own me. I have tried not to add more conveniences to my life because I have enough prisons—enough chains. Why would I need more? I am returning to my beloved river where life is hard but simple, where I live in and with nature, where I have little and need little, where I am privileged to see sights not seen from the road, where…

How can I convey to those who haven’t been to the wilderness what a peace can be found there? How less can be so…so much more. How can I convey the quietness, the beauty, the simplicity? But what is the wilderness? What do most people see in their mind when they hear the word? If they haven’t experienced the wilderness first hand, their view isn’t accurate. Until I experienced the river, I didn’t know about the beautiful beaches. I didn’t know about the colorful sunsets. I didn’t know what the animals did at night. I didn’t know beaver sounds like a young girl crying. I didn’t know…

I know I said I know where I am going. That is true to some extent, but when John and I lived the wilderness life, it was always just the two of us. As I travel down the Middle Mississippi in a few days, I will be sharing the experience with more than just John, and the fact that others will be with us on this trip has caused some apprehension on my part. What if modesty and vanity chase me into the wilderness? Can I escape them? Will all of society follow me there? We will be like-minded people. We will do wilderness life together. We will fight the elements. We will appreciate the sights and sounds of Mother Nature. Will that help? Will that allow the transition from society to wilderness happen, even amongst others?

I am leaving on this trip the same but different from the last time I drove away from my society home. Just as I returned home changed in July 2015, I pray I will return changed even more. What will my wilderness life teach me this time? Be sure to join me as I say good-bye to my society life, returning to my beloved river and the way of life I have yearned for ever since I loaded my kayak on our truck in Venice, Louisiana, and traveled the road home to my society life.











  1. Dee Humbles said:

    Excited for you and enjoying the view from my corner of society…have been musing and pondering on the rampant consumerism of American life in general and my life in particular often lately. Trusting your journey will bring you great peace, more love, laughter and blessings as well as greater insight into the best blessed life you can live. I’m very grateful to call you friends and to learn from your journeys.

    March 20, 2017
  2. Tony Heck said:

    It is with envy and anticipation I write, as I want to be with your crew, but have to console myself with being on-board in spirit, alone.
    Well, until Helena, Arkansas, that is, when my beagle, Snoop, and I join you.

    I hope you have enjoyed the bratwurst and sommer sausage, sent via Roo. (Snoop and I will re-supply you in Helena.).

    & Snoop

    March 23, 2017
    • Argh mate! Regretfully we, John ad LaNae, separateboats, need to leave the crew in Caruthersville, MO. So sad. We’d love to meet and paddle with you guys, but will remain with you in spirit. We all flow together. Gods speed.

      March 23, 2017

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