BULLET-JOURNAL TRAVELS

girl kayak canoe 1561989340.jpg

Bullet Journal Travels

by Patricia Tiffany Morris

I have often longed for a magnificent mountain lake house surrounded by other rustic cabin owners and viewed from select vistas. I imagine many share my dream. Facebook is filled with log cabin living and off-the-grid groupies. By all accounts, regardless of which group posts the most impressive mountain cabin photograph, we long for a piece of that gentle Polaroid moment, and we vow in our bullet journals to make certain to practice on the lake in our backyard before we arrive at our mountain destination. 

I did, and I didn't.

I did buy the kayak. I did purchase the designer life preservers, the deluxe standing room Cabela's brand tent, and took the trip to Colorado's Gunnison and Crested Butte mountains with my lovely, brave, outdoorsy daughter.

I didn't practice before I left. I didn't bring the kayak, nor did I squeeze extra pieces of travel equipment into our small vehicle. My daughter practiced a little, yet her persistent and courageous spirit brought us to the journey during the summer of 2016. What I didn't expect was to touch the bottom of the river from the underside of an inflatable rafting boat. And I didn't miss the designer life jacket at all. Class 4 river rapids weren't on my bullet list either.

My daughter and I will always remember both my unexpected excursion into the icy cold rapids, my legs bruised and scratched from a boat full of women gasping as they peered over the edge of the floating vessel, and the indelible picture of each other's jaws repeatedly falling wide open as incredible daredevil kayakers plunged down near vertical-waterfalls, only to emerge right side of the vessel toward the sky.

My daughter practiced in our suburban lake development, but the National Geographic video-like images we witnessed along the road to one of our destinations may prove to be my favorite item in next year’s bullet journal. I am over 50 years old. Scratch that. The bullet journal entry, I mean. I'm stuck, somewhat inflexible as my body ages, and I resist adding to life's more challenging experiences. No bullet journal or wishlist will change that fact. Let's look at mountain lakes with a calm, gentle breeze and a wooden dock for noble intentions to ride the craft. My architect designed dock floats, perfectly suited for a pair of earthbound armchairs. Gravity Chairs to be precise. What pleasant days of writing I contemplate, reading the Scriptures on that dock overlooking my mountain home. A noteworthy, achievable goal at least on paper.

As I pick my jaw off the page, wiping a bit of drool off my chin, I grab a handful of Prismacolor pencils. Perhaps I can draw or sketch mountains and log cabins as I travel back to Colorado, Utah or Wyoming next year. I certainly hope to be blessed memorizing Scripture again with my next traveling companion. My future numbered destinations soar toward the eastern mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina. 

I despise messy pages, so I hesitate to literally scratch off my bullet entry. But I could add if I had such a journal, “practice canoeing and kayaking this summer on the pond in our neighborhood". Next year I will create a bullet journal to balance my creative and my productive needs. And although the lake is located across the street, around the corner, and only visible in winter, it's enough for me and my God. It’s enough for my imagination once I lean back in the boat and look toward the sky. Bullet journals are, after all, a place for dreams to come true. 

by Patricia Tiffany Morris