He had endured four long years of adolescent prison, locked inside a fence for seven hours every day. At home, it wasn't any better. Under constant badgering and harassment from the folks, he had nearly reached his limit. He needed to get away, away from suburbia of the monotonous lifestyle and the lackluster inhabitants. Away from the Baskin Robbins, serving every flavor of ice cream, including Bloody Nougat. Away from the park with the grimy pond and pigeon feces lining the pathways, like guiding lights on the runway, the pathways blocked occasionally by a homeless person or two. Away from the sky that never seemed to change, a constant light painted blue with artificially crafted white puffs in the sky.
Wandering through the aisles at the sporting goods store, he had an idea. He spotted backpacking equipment on sale at the rack and sauntered over there. I can do something with this, he thought. .
It had always been his desire to go backpacking through nature, with only the stuff on his back and venturing wherever his two feet and primitive navigation took him. This could be it. Hastily, he purchased a pack, a self-assembled tent, a compass, first aid kit, some crude pots and pans, utensils, and instant meals. He never had more fun emptying his bank account, all 300 dollars of it. .
Excited, he hurried home and began to pack. He locked himself in his room and practiced using a compass. He crammed everything he could think of into the packs, and was confident he was ready for what the world threw at him. Going online, he did extensive research on the travel arrangements. At midnight, he pried open the window, tossed the packs out, and slid quietly onto the ground. Taking the bus, he arrived at the local state park by dawn. .
The trees swayed gently in the wind, the sky finally showing signs of life after its dormant slumber in suburbia. The birds squawked to each other and woodpeckers pecked away at the giant buildings of wood, constructed hundreds, if not thousands of years ago.
