The shoreline mud smeared under my sandals until their lugs finally caught purchase in the sand below.

Late-summer cicadas droned from their tree top perches as rumbling clouds imposed on the remaining clear sky. My time on the river was slipping downstream faster than I realized.

These days, my outdoor adventures are equal parts work and pleasure, which is incredible. I’m thankful for these new opportunities, though they do add a level of urgency to something that used to solely be a passion I indulged at my own discretion. If I go to the river to get bowfishing footage, I need to come back home with footage of fish being stuck.

Another unintended consequence of this deeper engagement with outdoor media is the neglect of my own personal writing, evidenced by the lengthy gap between this post, and my last. I didn’t realize how therapeutic writing on my own terms truly was until I didn’t do it for over a month.

It’s not all downside though. I’m meeting some incredible people in this process, folks who are as classy as they appear in their respective media or branch of the industry. The few bad apples are getting easier to spot and typically share these characteristics:

1. An inability to distinguish opinion from fact.

2. An unwillingness to parse nuance and read beyond a headline or title.

These folks get way less of my concern than they used to and are a little like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. They can only do damage if you pay them too much mind.

I’m also getting to indulge my curiosities about the infrastructures that make our hunting, fishing and outdoor experiences possible. It’s all fascinating and I’m so happy to get others interested in getting outdoors themselves. For everyone who is helping me make this happen, thank you.

Tonight, in the algae stained Meramec river water I stood ankle deep and breathed the humid summer evening air. 20 miles to the west, that same moisture-laden air was fueling a roiling bank of clouds and lightning thundering my way.  My mission to get footage was accomplished and even as the lightning flicked as if it were irradiating the entire valley, I wanted to stay. I wanted to soak in the deluge that was coming, not run from it. That would be the real adventure.

In the end, I wound my way up the darkening trail to my Jeep as the raindrops grew in size. I had what I needed from out there. What I needed next was indoors and that was to play my part in the bedtime routine with my girls and to finally sit down to do some of my own writing.