When Adventure Comes Calling

Of cats and Land Rovers

“Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a mission, and for my sins, they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service.” — Capt. Willard, Apocalypse Now

By my standards, it was a pretty unadventurous winter. I only strapped on my skis two or three times, no exotic dive getaways, just a couple of dog walks a day, and a lot of shoveling. I did sign up for the North American Ice Diving Festival, which took place last weekend in a flooded iron mine up in northern Minnesota, but when an impending snowstorm was forecast, I decided to skip it. Discretion is the better part of valor, it is said. But I couldn’t help but wonder if I was getting soft, as housebroken and domesticated as Ruby, my dog. I still second guess my decision. I could have loaded up the Defender with dive gear and aimed north, gritting my teeth against the blizzard. Instead I got a book at the library and sat with it by a crackling fire.