Sunday, October 4, 2015
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul. *
* The first stanza of the poem "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley, the other stanzas will follow throughout this report. This poem would follow us, all the competitors of the Endeavor Team Challenge, throughout the competition. Invictus is a good word, meaning; invincible, unconquered, undefeated, unconquerable.
Friday night, 11/12 September, 2015, my teammate Ryan Ross, my wife Rebecca, and I have a room in the Bear Valley Lodge. It is midnight. I am nervous and anxious and cannot sleep. In the morning, Ryan and I will begin the athletic event known as the Endeavor Team Challenge. At 6 AM, after months of preparation, we start. I have never, in my entire life, been apprehensive before an athletic event. How did it get to this point?
Saturday, March 21, 2015
|Druce Finlay, Everglades Challenge 2015|
This is our sixth story of The Everglades Challenge (the EC). Some of this story is about the event, the Everglades Challenge 2015, much of this story is about me and how I think, what my experiences are, what my emotions are, what my passions are, and even how I act and interact with fear, pain, and mental anguish. After delving into this article, you may quickly come to the conclusion that I am completely nuts, and you might be right to think that. But, I hope (we'll talk about that word later) you'll enjoy the read, because I am going to hold nothing back.
Friday, January 9, 2015
|Spring Break '74 and '75, Caribbean Flights, Antilles Air Boats, Grummna G-21 Goose|
My first thought about this post was, who wants to read about college kids and their spring break antics? But then I thought, this journal is about writing down memories, particularly the memories that get repeated over and over over the years. A couple of the memories in this post I have repeated many times; nostalgia ad infinitum. So here are two stories; one of Spring Break 1974 and one of 1975.
The year was 1973 and Robert Topolewski, Steve Kidder, and I, already experienced European travelers, were on an American Airlines flight out of New York City bound for San Juan Puerto Rico and more misadventure.