You Can Never Go Back... Or Can You?

It's common knowledge that reliving an experience or location from your past just isn't going to happen. Time rolls on, people mature or pass on, modernization or progress alters the landscape to such a degree you can't even recognize what once was, or even where it was.

Having lived well beyond the half century mark, there are many life experiences I would pay dearly to relive just one more time. Sadly, every attempt to do so has failed and left an empty hole of disillusionment where a fond memory once resided.

As a young adult in the military way back in 1969-70 I was stationed on the island of Guam. A South Pacific paradise that at the time was unspoiled by massive tourism. A mere 25 years after World War II, you were hard pressed to find a building on the island that stood more than 2 story's high. Commercialism amounted to a few small gift shops along the ocean front that catered to underpaid GI's wishing to pick up some small trinket to send back home to Mom and Dad. Maybe a hand carved mug, or a brass Buda, usually something priced under $10.

It was a beautiful scenic place where vegetation and greenery quickly consumed any signs of the terrible battles that took place during the war.

Now some 40 years later it's a whole different world. The beaches are littered with most national hotel chains looking to book your next vacation. Tourists from both sides of the Pacific flock to the island known as the second Hawaii.

Back then there was only one hamburger joint on the whole island. The original burger chain White Castle, where a bag of sliders could be had cheap was your only choice. Near the rear gate of the Naval Air Station was a small Orange Julius drive-up, if you wanted something besides a Coke or Pepsi. McDonalds, only having sold burgers in the low millions, hadn't arrived yet.

Today be it KFC, Wendy's, Burger King, and all the rest including multiple McDonalds, Guam can satisfy your need for junk food.

The Guam I experienced is no longer there -- going back is impossible.

Military years are often the backbone of memories for those who served. Uncle Sam sends you off to places you likely would never have visited on your own. My time on the east coast was just as memorable. Stationed in Elizabeth City NC for two years more fond memories are relived in my mind.

That 40 years of progress did some serious damage to the picture I've carried in my mind throughout my life. A chance trip taking me to the western side of the state made it mandatory that I take a day trip back to my old stomping grounds. It was a hot dusty August day and nothing looked familiar. The traffic was terrible, and everything just had a beaten down appearance. The quaint little Andy in Mayberry feel was gone. It will never be the same.

Of the many homes I've owned throughout my life the little 2 bedroom place I had at Island Lake, some 25 miles north of Duluth MN, was my favorite. On ten acres of forest, with thousands of acres of county land on my border, it was my little paradise. Secluded, simple, back to nature, it just felt comfortable.

I purchased it from the family that built it 2 years previous. He was tired of working on it and she couldn't deal with the long commute to the mall. Built on a concrete slab, it was painted gray with cream colored trim. I spent most of a year finishing the trim, creating a decent yard, and in general making it a home. I even planted Rhubarb and Tulips while enjoying the deer, birds and many other creatures that shared my domain.

Without regret, 4 years later we sold the place doubling our money. It was the grub stake for a new life we started traveling across most of the country.

Many days thoughts of wandering the trails through the woods came to mind. Plowing the heavy snow from the 350 ft driveway and stoking the wood stove on a cold winter night. That place exuded the true essence of living in the north woods. It was a wonderful place to live.

Jump ahead 20 years and where are we. Back in the north woods, Wisconsin this time instead of Minnesota. Within a few weeks we will be moving into our new cabin in the woods.

A simple 2 bedroom house on a slab. Painted gray with white trim, the picture window in the living room looking out over our 5 acres of pine forest. The same thousands of acres of county forest bordering our property on 2 sides. Total seclusion some 50 miles south of Duluth MN. A little further, but then this will be retirement living. Who cares how far the commute is.

Though not on a lake (neither was the old place), it's only 2 minutes to the public boat launch. It was the same just around the corner trip to the water from the other house too.

Heat will be the familiar woodstove, and the mosquitoes will be thick during the dog days of summer. Relief from the heat will come from an early morning boat ride on the St. Croix river. If a fish is stupid enough to grab my line, supper will be fresh from the water to the frying pan.

We're going back to relive the beginning years of our relationship in the best of settings. We've come home again. Sometimes, if you're very lucky, you do get the chance to go back in time.