“Run!! The Orcs are coming!” I quickly reached for my sword and hurdled over the log to my companion’s side. Swinging and stabbing, Gage and I fought tirelessly through the waves of monsters that approached. For what seemed like hours we traversed all over Mordor and Isengard, battling for our dear lives. Then, with an electrified ring, my mom’s voice crackled out over the small yellow walkie-talkie clipped on to my jeans, “time to come home boys, dinner’s ready.”
“But Mommmm, we just got here!” I knew it was no use; after all, I was getting quite hungry. However, I still wanted a couple more minutes so we could battle our way back to the campsite. And away we went. Wielding our battered sticks, Gage and I trekked over the plains of Mordor one last time.
We were lost, lost somewhere between the mountains of Shenandoah National Forest, the lands of Middle-Earth, and the limitless bounds of our imagination. It was these camping trips that I would allow my mind to stay off the known path and stumble on to new uncharted woods. Here, a quick walk to the camp store may have been an expedition on an unknown planet. Searching for firewood would be a search and rescue mission from the president. Rapt in my mind I was exactly where I wanted to be. Being nowhere and everywhere. Doing nothing and everything. I was lost.