A long time ago, in a small village tucked away in the hills, a young man climbed the mountains behind his small village. He did this as a test to prove that he was ready to be a grown man, as did all the other boys in the village. Knowing little of the rest of the world, because they were settled in such a tiny place, everyone agreed that their mountain was the biggest and tallest of all of them.
After all, all the neighboring peaks were smaller than the one they lived next to. Even others who would come to stop by the tiny village marveled at the height at which the mountain rose above them. So, with great pride the villagers would send their youth up to the very peak in order to prove their worth.
(Halfway to the saddle)
Having been successful, the youth was expected to now help out the village by becoming a man that would bring them a constant high quality of life. He attempted farming, fabric dying, and even weaving. Sadly, he could not find something to which he could become proficient at.
One day a merchant entered into the village to sell his wares. Impressed at the way in which the young man was able to articulate a deal, the merchant invited him to join him on his journeys across the land. With the promise that the young man would one day be returning to the small village, and that the money he made would come back to his family, the man hungrily agreed to the idea of adventure.
Me on top of Torrey's Peak ( elevation 14,267')
He knew that he would miss the friends he become dear to and also his loving family. However, the idea of making a fortune while traveling the world was too much for the young man to possibly pass up. Packing his bags, the young man said his goodbyes to both family and friends, picked up his things, and left, not knowing what he would find outside of what he had understood his entire world to be.
Me and Lisa (friend) on top of Torrey's Peak
Through the years of travel, the young man matured and grew into a fine man. All the while, he experienced wonders he never imagined where possible. He saw groups of people from places he could not even pronounce and heard words spoken he could not understand.
All the while, the man become stronger and smarter. His mind was expanded to the greater expanse of the world. It wasn't for many years that he finally returned to his small village.
Skydog as seen on top of Torrey's Peak
When the man finally returned home, he was greeted with great respect and admiration. Everyone wanted to know more about the travels and the wonders he had seen. With great vigor and detail the man explained all of it. Someone finally asked the man if anything he had done could compare to climbing the large peak behind their village.
Me on top of Gray's Peak ( elevation 14,270' )
With a wide smile, the man explained that, while the people he met and the places he visited did not compare, he did climb a much larger mountain. However, because none of the villagers knew about this mountain or if it was, in fact, larger than the one behind their tiny village, they either did not care or did not believe him. Broken hearted and slightly enraged, the man took the small fortune he made and continued to travel the world, climbing ever larger and higher mountains in hope that one day those back in the tiny village would recognize his great achievements, and maybe even join him.
lol! I am as I am ^^ And apparently female to most Americans… Not many men have long hair there.
those of us who love our hair long, have been fighting that for years. apparently, if you keep your hair long, they associate you with hippies. it's a losing battle.
Hola Katch! Yeah, I don't think we got any together, unless someone else took them? Maybe Raven did? On the yacht you were mostly with Raven I think while I was dancing and stuff so you'd be in pics with him ^^ Ask Raven for me ^^
I would but I just upgraded my phone OS and lost a whole lot of contacts, including his T___T
Haha, thanks man. And surprisingly, I have never done drugs, of any sort. This is completely natural. I just bulked up a lot (20 or so pounds) and lift heavy.
Greetings, comrades. Look what my brother found in Illinois: a 1993 Ural motorcycle with a freakin' sidecar:
This isn't even an American model either: every single label is in Russian, the gauges are in metric, and the current tires on it are old Soviet surplus (they all clearly say "Made in the USSR".) It's a neat ride, though the only things that are missing are a machine gun and a hammer and sickle.