In the past, I’ve done these year-in-review posts where I examine some of the things I’ve seen and done. Last year, I took a different tack, instead encouraging folks to take stock in the good things that happened in an otherwise rough year.
Without question, 2017 was an extension of the chaos of 2016. I don’t want to rehash what I already wrote, as those words still apply. But it would do some good to at least look back at the visuals of 2017. When I see these images, it turns out 2017 wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt.
A lot of what was good was tied to places I went. A friend of mine from Kansas City, Craig Cook, was good enough to meet me at Magazine Mountain for an overnight camping trip and a couple of days of hiking on Arkansas’ highest point.
What a great mix if fun that was. We only scratched the surface, but got in some short day hikes plus a longer, wilder hike through the Ouachita National Forest to the top of the mountain. It’s good to have an adventure buddy to prod you to see new places.
Later in the year, there was a trip out west. There was a lot to see in western Oklahoma, northern New Mexico and in the mountains of Colorado.
Gloss Mountains State Park in northwestern Oklahoma offers some unique scenery I’d like to explore more.
I’ve always been a fan of New Mexico. A few days there earned some prime scenery and good hiking in the Valle Vidal near Cimarron. Again, only scratched the surface. This is a huge area, and west of there is more exploring to be had near Wheeler Peak.
And then it was on to Colorado…
For the past three years, I’ve made a point to go to Loveland Pass and hike the peaks there. A couple more 13ers in the bag, but plenty left to do when I return.
Once that was done, it was time to hang out with another adventure buddy, by nephew Jordan. First stop: the Mosquito Range.
Jordan and I had done the Decalibron loop the year before, so it made sense to finish off the Mosquito Range 14ers together. We got up early, drove to Fairplay and then hiked Mountain Sherman. This was a surprisingly scenic peak.
Having tackled that, we gorged in Buena Vista, camped overnight and took a shot at La Plata Peak. A lot of hard work going up those switchbacks, but no summit. Still, what an incredible place.
One the way home from Colorado, another pit stop at a place I’d seen before, but in winter conditions. Black Mesa, Okla., is special in summer, too.
In the fall, me and Bec headed out to Arkansas, this time to Bentonville. This was not exclusively an “outdoor adventure” trip, but it did have that element.
Arkansas knows how to do state parks. Hobbs State Park is amazing, and begs for another visit.
I’ve got a few other good memories that were captured closer to home. Over the course of the fall, I had plenty of time to soak in the scene while on long runs or bike rides. Fall came late, but when it did, the appeal of the changing season was clear.
Maybe six weeks later, another great signal of changing seasons: a decent dusting of snow.
There are plenty of other memories of places seen and things done that I could recall — 365 days is a lot of time to collect memories — but this is a decent sampling.
It would be foolish to dismiss the negative of 2017, whether it be what’s happening nationally or around the world, or how life has changed for me personally. But it’s nice to balance those scales with the good. And here’s a little lesson…
Every photo you see here has one thing in common: Being in these places involved a choice. A choice to meet a friend and hang out. A choice to make time for family. A choice to endure physical hardship to see uncommon beauty. A choice to lace up the shoes, head out the door and run. A choice to take advantage of the moment, even if that moment was fleeting.
So as 2017 comes to end, feel free to say “good riddance.” But don’t forget to say thanks for the good. And if the thought of 2018 brings a little dread, remember to make a few choices, to chase the good wherever it leads.
Happy New Year, friends.
Thanks, Bob. It’s always about choices. For better or worse, owning our choices means we’re owning our lives. Cheers!
No doubt! Things can happen to us, but a lot of times, our lives are what we make of them.