Older than dirt.
Past their prime. No spring
chickens. If you are over the age of 45,
you may have heard such whispers of age induced misconceptions. You may have even taken them to heart. After all, we all grow older. We all begin to feel the strain of aging upon us
as we take on challenges that may have been effortless in our youth. We all begin to stare at the proverbial hill
of maturity and wonder how we will fare in its relentless efforts to hold us down
and to, as legend would have it, take us by the hand and lead us directly into
the grave. But legends are not always the reality. As Charles M. Shulz, creator of some of the
most beloved characters that have ever existed, once said, “Just remember, when
you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed.” For the two of us, these words are so magnificently
true!
Now, there is just no need to spew out exact numbers as to
our chronological value, but if you have seen our videos on YouTube, our
pictures on Instagram or if…lucky you, you actually know us, then you will know
that J&M have been around the block a few times more than your average
urban explorer. Yes, there are
advantages to youth that have fallen with stealth and precision into the
wayside, however maturity has gained a new power and strength. Within each day of life brings new
opportunities to defy perception. Age,
energy, desire and determination are the cohesive bonds that, through new
challenges, only grow stronger. This was
never so apparent as it was during our latest and greatest exploration….
Once again, we had pulled out our cellphones to gather
meteorological insights regarding our best bets for the next location for
adventure. You see, we have several
places around the Northeast that we love to visit and quite often find
ourselves planning spur of the moment adventures based solely on mother nature
and her fickle New England ways….truly, you have to have lived in this area to
appreciate what a wicked chowdahead she can be….hot as frickin Hades one day,
freezing your Yankee butt off the next.
So it was that we were cursing her once again….66 degrees and
raining? Really? It’s the end of June for crud’s sake. We looked at each other and sighed…really we
didn’t have much choice, Mother Nature had decided to be a buzz kill all over
the East Coast. And….as you might
already know, we DO NOT let a little stinkin crummy weather pattern ruin our
explorations!!! So off we went! Destination: a deserted ski resort in the
high hills of Massachusetts.
It was harmless looking enough. Sure, we have seen the peak of this mountain
a million times, but we never really realized the enormity of the task ahead of
us until we began our trek up the jagged hillside. No, it’s not the Rockies, or the Alps, or
even the Great Smokey Mountains of Tennessee (which, by the way, we will be
going to very soon in order to bring you a new batch of adventures!!), but it
is a mountain nonetheless….1,202 feet of steep, rugged, pointy, slippery when
wet rock. Did we mention that it was
raining? Still….no way to stop
us!! We had a plan and when there is exploring
involved, there will be no stopping us!
And so, up we continued….
The summit of the mountainside was a sight to behold. To take in the view, even on a misty, rain
sprinkled day, was quite majestic and, extremely empowering.
It didn’t take long before we found our “in” spot. Ya know, the place where we could move with
cat like prowess into the jungle of abandonment. Never mind the fact that there was, as we
later found out, a completely incurious and less than rebellious place of
entry. We bush-wacked our way across flowing wisps of
thigh high grassland, taking every care in the world not to disturb the wildlife
eutopia lying delicately beneath our toes.
A glance to the left beheld a grand view of the ski slopes that once
carried those who find their joy in dodging crystalized drifts of icy pillows through
the glades on a brisk and snow-kissed day. Haunting echoes of residual laughter
resonated within the boundaries of the slopes as we made our way toward an ominous
looking cabin that had appeared just beyond the whispering winds.
We continued on, suddenly
realizing that we would not only be cutting close on our video battery, an ever-important
factor in documenting our adventurous and epic journeys, but also on our cell
phone reliability….how in the world did we ever make it through our day without
cell phones? With
frugality in usage of precious batteries now on the front burner, we suddenly
found ourselves prioritizing our every move.
Our new-found love of documenting and sharing our explorations had
become of paramount importance and we did not want to miss one single minute of
showing these tattered, rotting and eroding treasures of history.
With swift steps, we made our way along the grass enveloped
path and through a clearing that brought us to a cement graveyard that was once
adorned with crisp new tile, flowing pumps filled with chlorine and crystal
blue waters. Three and half feet at the deepest end gave
clues to it’s past. A young mother sitting
with eyes wide open upon the stairway leading into the chill of the pool, she is
afraid to close her eyes for even a second for fear that her little ones might
slip into the waist high abyss. An older
couple splash each other playfully with their feet as they close their eyes to relax
under the sunlight…their children are older and have children of their own…they
sit content in their freedom. It is as
it always is when we visit these places.
Whispering memories of the past
flow through the winds surrounding us. Clues to history abound, always calling for
our return.
I can go for hours about all of the sites that we beheld that
day. Spectacular graffiti art adorning
crumbling cabins, a large and vacant wave pool wrapped in the clutches of
nature, remnants of tropical drinks and food that certainly contributed to someone’s
first triple bypass surgery, a forgotten vehicle blanketed with rust and clever
designs of street art.
There is just never enough time!! The sun was making its way toward the
western sky and under the brilliant hues of blue, we knew that it was time to begin
the somewhat….oh, who am I kidding?....the EXTREMELY intimidating hike back!! M
placed his hand in mine and smiled, and in that moment, I was right where I always
wanted to be. The musculature of our
necks straining taught and tight as we gazed toward the midway point of our
final destination. The slight tickle of
raindrops fell softly as our grasp on each other tightened. Encouraging words carrying my body toward the misty
clouds above. With strength and courage,
we continued… a youthful determination prevailing amongst the aches and pains
of our seasoned and careworn steps.
For some, adventure
and exploration are a dream. For some,
it is their life’s work. For the two of us, it is our love, and a monumental
part of that love is being able to share our experiences with others. Whether you are 25 or 75, whether you are
climbing up the hill of life, or zooming straight down with vigor and vibrant
energy, we hope that you will always and forever live each day to the
fullest. Take a moment to breathe in all
that life has to offer and when you may be feeling down or having one of those
days that make you want to pull out each and every strand of your hair, know that
there is adventure for you around the corner.
Whatever your dream of adventure may be.
Don’t waste precious moments in anger or in sadness. Climb up the hill of life and when you reach its
summit….rejoice! For if you have an
adventurers soul….the best is ALWAYS yet to come!
And, as always and for the love of everything youthful and kind to your aching and adventurous feet….”Do
whatever makes you feel alive!!!”
-Jennifer and Marcel
