I must first say a long-awaited hello to all those whom I've kept silent to during this past year. Unfortunately, that is most everyone. Time has not been gracious in giving me freedom to keep in touch. But, perhaps that is for the better. My adventures lately have taken me to the back lands of the northern Rocky Mountains, where I've met the high cliffs above the clouds and the low brooks flowing between them. These regions remain unmarked as either Canada or America, although the invisible border stretches from west to east, passing somewhere underfoot. Here you can really get lost, for days or weeks or months. The people here call it a type of game; head in one direction for hours, follow the flow of nature and release your mind from concentration. Explore the beauty of the wilderness around you, and after passing several mountains, it's as if the small city containing your home is as good as gone. Nobody understands until they witness a wilderness so vast it stretches from horizon to horizon, nothing stirring under the trees except the deer, the solitary bear, the birds, and the wolves. When you look down at your footprints in the snow, but this time see a paw print stretching larger than your hand, the chill in the air sinks into your bones and the ground rips ruggedly at your feet. These unforgiving mountains are wolf country. This is where they roam, where the pup took his first breath of air and first saw the great blue sky. It gets real when you stand where they stood, see where they played in the snow and see what they saw. It gets even more real when you find bullet casings by a river in the middle of nowhere. It's wolf country, but not forever, according to those who hunt here. People kill wolves just to kill wolves, then bury them as to not deal with the legal consequences of killing endangered wolves, or those out of season. It's difficult to think that while you may howl to hear a wild wolf's reply, nearly all others howl to get them close enough to shoot. Nevertheless it's beautiful country where I am now, and I hope the coming year will present me with many opportunities to venture farther out and witness wolves who've never encountered humans before. It's nearly impossible with so many poachers, but if the country works together to bring them back to their respectful populations, the chance remains.
So here's to a good year, the formidable Twenty Fifteen. I will say that The City of Decadence, Denver, New Year's Eve was the grandest party I've ever been to. Thank you Bassnectar, Flux Pavilion, and all those of Big Grizmatik for the wildest countdown to the New Year. I always do love getting sprayed with champagne.
Wilderness by day, rave by night. It's a pretty good life. See you soon Orlando, Seattle, Vancouver!