Before The Journey Begins (aka: I think I took a wrong turn in Albuquerque)

It had been coming for a very long time, really.  As anyone who knows me can attest, I don't like to settle down. After 9 years at KUSA it was beyond time to start a new adventure.

After looking all over the country and even wondering about a life of pineapple farming in the middle of the Pacific Ocean...

 I decided to try something slightly closer to home.

My final day at 9NEWS in Denver was June 19.  I took a few weeks off to enjoy some freedom and make sure my mind was right for a new life.

First stop on the journey:  Hawaii, of course!

A couple weeks in paradise is just what a person needs to really clear their head.  A couple weeks of hiking the wildest terrain on the planet with his sadistic best friend... well that just means you need your head examined.

Just to make it clear, Waipio Valley is magestic. Earth shattering in its beauty. Its also a 25% grade straight down and a 4,369% grade walking back out. They say its a mile each way. They lie.

 To be fair, Cameron (afforementioned sadistic best friend) and I had an awesome time as usual on the Big Island.  I had been on Oahu for the previous week and thanks to tips from Jace and others I did a lot of amazing things there as well.

I came back to Denver ready to pack and load up.  Or so I thought.

My renters had started moving in while I was in Hawaii.  My cat, Konowalchuk, had really grown to enjoy his time with them.  And their boxes had begun a very cozy relationship with mine.  It became a bit of a disaster.  Pretty sure I have half their stuff and half mine but oh well.  I had crap anyway so it might be an improvement!

Also a Konowalchuk, just different.

I got my packing all done, I said my goodbyes, and I left.  For my moms.  Where the honey-do list was a mile long and list of things to pick up for her homestead was immense.  My plan had been to see her and my gramma, wish em well and head up to the big '30th Annual Hope No One Dies This Year' camping trip.

I finally made it up to Don Brookins' Good Time, Leave Your Banjo In The Toilet At Home Scott Wright campsite around 10 at night.

The place was littered with vehicles, campers, tents, and no sign of life.  It was like Jonestown, the day after. I worried that either a horrible, dreaded plague had swept across the high mountain plains or perhaps Crowshaw had been in charge of cooking.  Something had clearly killed everyone.  I mean, it was barely dark.

Morning light illuminated the evening's problem.  We had all gotten old somehow.  This leads me to a tangent.  What sort of trick is being played on us?  I mean, three weeks ago we were all young men starting off in the world and suddenly everyone has grey hairs, if they still have any hairs, and we pray for the first star to show thru so we can feel ok about going to bed.  In our heated/cooled travel trailers with full kitchens and a butler named Jeeves.  I want to speak to the power that has clearly transported us to an alternate universe where we can read a short novel between the time we unzip and the time we start to pee.

Anyway, I got to spend a great couple of days with some of the best people on earth.  It was the way anyone would want to say goodbye to one step in life's short walk.

Our fearless leader, Teflon Don Brookins. God love him.  We miss him... wait, he isnt dead?

 Two days later, on Monday July 12, 2010, I began my actual journey.

If you read this far, thank you.  I will tell you about my travels and adventures in the next post. 

To my friends in Colorado, I miss each of you.  To my friends in Atlanta, I appreciate your help the last time I did this and I fell back on those experiences to make this trip a success.

And to my friend in Hawaii, thank you for the push to write the blog and for showing me that you can pick up and change your entire existence and really love the results.

The Journey is next...