We are meant to travel.
From the dawn of all of us, there were two types of people: those that always wandered, seeking whatever it was that was just over that next hill, just across that water; and those that stayed behind and called the other folks fools. They'll fall off the earth. They'll get killed. They'll amount to nothing. All of which was often true.
And still we wandered.
I come from that line of humanity that sought the edge of things. My father was in the Navy. Before him, a race that many would call hillbillies, people that didn't know they were "unfortunate" or "poor" until somebody came in and labeled them such. Wander the hills, find a place to settle, a woman or man to settle with, raise some kids, who then went a little further into the hills. On and on. We found rivers, prairies, deserts, oceans, wars and peace. All this was made known to us for a simple reason.
This is the story of recent travel. Recent as of the end of 2012 and beginning of 2013. I'm not vain enough to hope that someday these stories will be old, though in this day and age "old" is not what it once was. But I hope that they will be enjoyed.