When I was a child there was nothing more I loved then creating an adventure within my own backyard and mind. I pretended to navigate through the woods as Sacajawea did when she traveled thousands of miles with the expedition of Lewis and Clark. My favorite adventures included abandon hunting shacks or forts in the woods. I would use these forts as shelter and create my own town around them. The best forts were always the oldest and most decapitated ones, the ones that looked like they been there for several decades. I would conjure up different stories to what type of people and the uses of the abandon places I would find.
As it was no surprise that I loved the outdoors, my father never thought twice about allowing me to discover a new journey in the woods. It was the middle of December and I had just finished breakfast and decided to go for a morning walk with my father’s dog Smokey. Smokey loved the outdoors just as much or even more than I did, she was a great companion accompany me along my journey.
The morning was bright but cold as the sun glistened off the white blanket of snow. The snowflakes were big and fluffy, ideal for catch on my tongue. As Smokey and I ran down the narrow path into the woods our foot prints slowly disappeared as the snow fell. I never thought twice about how we would find our way back. All I was concerned with was finding a new and exciting spot to explore. Although my concerns suddenly changed when Smokey decided to run ahead of me and cross the small stream in which followed the back property line of my fathers. As I called for Smokey to come back I contemplated following her or head back in hopes she would follow. To my surprise as I turned the other way, Smokey had her own adventure in mind and had no intention with staying with me. I followed Smokey over the stream further into the woods. I began hearing gun shots in the distance. I look behind me in hopes to see my own tracks to head back