Time slips by. A moment here, a moment there, and then its gone. These writings are for all the lost moments. They are for the my children and anyone else who wishes to read them.
Life goes by and you tell no one what you’ve done, or what it is you really wanted to do. I am one of the lucky ones – I got to do the things I wanted to do at a young age. Many wait to do that in retirement. I had my adventures early in life.
When I was four I found a rock under our house and put it on the kitchen table. I told my mother that it was coal. I had never seen coal before. I tell people that was my first experience in exploration geology.
Growing up in California in the ’50s and ’60s I was exposed to fantastic adventures on television. From Daniel Boone, whom one of my ancestors knew, to Jacques Cousteau, to Star Trek we were inundated with frontier adventure. It is not surprising that I set out to explore the world.
For me a normal life wasn’t good enough. Like some people hundreds of years ago my life was all about frontier adventure. It is what made me feel alive. I wanted to go where no one had gone before and be able to say with confidence that no one will go there again. It was a life of discovery that is not common. It ended before I was thirty.
Here are my stories.