…that for some of us, it takes longer to figure out what we are about and what we want to do in life…and then we’re too old to do it??

Like, I was thinking as I was driving down the road today that I had a buried adventurer spirit in me–wanting to try skiing on mountains, jumping out of airplanes, water skiing, exploring the world…but I never left my hometown until forced to by losing my home, and even then, I stayed in Indiana.

It took major cojones for me to leave Indiana, because of this fear and dread inside me.  I wondered where in the world I developed that fear — was it just intrinsic or was I raised that way?  I’ve come to believe that I was raised that way…because my sense of adventure is strong.

And when I finally did leave, I found that it caused such major upheavals that I just didn’t have the energy for it like I would have if I had left in my youth…

…but when I got my bearings in South Dakota, it was the thrill of a lifetime.  Well, the land itself was the thrill…very few people there that helped me on my journey, so that took away from what I wanted to achieve (living there permanently).

But I would never trade it for the world. 🙂

Some sadness —

The Green Hornet is no longer.  She was tired and just up and died on me when I pulled into a gentleman’s driveway.  I was going to a garage sale, of all things.  I was hoping that she was just out of gas…but alas.  There were just too many things wrong with her to attempt yet another mechanic’s bill.  I miss her.  I had her nearly fifteen years, and it was like losing an old friend.

This car got me safely to South Dakota…and back again.  She was with me at Oceti Sakowin, Wounded Knee, and Bear Lodge.  Sleeping in the back seat was a thrill when I could wake up in the middle of the night and look up at the beautiful stars in the sky.  When I could not count on anything or anyone else in my life, I could count on her.  I just feel like a piece of my history is gone.  She was part of the adventure.  I was thrilled when she continued to keep plugging long after mechanics had said she was done –it was especially a thrill when one mechanic said she would not last another 20,000 miles, but she went on for another 50,000! So there.

Another part of the adventure was being on Bear Butte when a lightning storm moved in.  It just suddenly appeared as I pulled into the parking lot.  One part of me wanted to get back in the car, and the other part was egging me on to continue my usual hike up the trail….

…so I continued on.  Strangely, I was a little afraid, but also had this calmness about me as the dark clouds rolled in and the lightning began to flash.  A lady urged me back down the mountain…see the fear thing above…

I remembered my Girl Scout training to lay down flat when lightning threatens, and my thoughts went to high rock formations that would protect me.  I lay down between two tall rocks.  The lightning was all around me.  It was thrilling to lie there watching it above.  What a show!

But it was also getting dark, and I had to go down a ways before I would reach my car.  Lightning was all around me and I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t afraid.  I was– but the thrill of being right there in nature surpassed the fear.

It still sends a chill and thrill down my spine when I think of it…

…and it also made me a stronger person.  Once you face your fear and your death, you are more confident.  You know what you’re made of.

On to a curiosity–

I was taking one of many walks around the beautiful town when I come across this:

Sorry for the terrible pixelating — taken from my phone to a computer and computer was not cooperating.

So this car appears to be circa 1950ish.  I wonder why it is lodged in the creek’s bank.  Did someone slide off the road above during one icy winter storm?  Did a spring flood bring the car to its resting place?  What happened to the occupants?

A mystery…