Odyssey of a Young Explorer

Odyssey of a Young Explorer
by Christopher L. Vaughn

The treasure map had been given to me by the king, a wise man who knew I was right for the job. “Find the treasure young explorer. But be careful, there are many dangers along the way,” was what he said to me as I was handed the rolled map. I unrolled the ancient map and studied the details; dangers indeed, a parch desert and an area called the canyon of death were just a couple of the obstacles to overcome.
I gathered my supplies and left the palace, ready for what lay ahead of me. My first obstacle was to climb the Redrock Mountain, a large mountain with a gradual slope that many underestimated, its loose boulders causing un-expecting climbers to fall to their death. Both sides of the path were covered with thick vines and several times I found myself hanging onto them tightly as I ascended to the mountain’s summit. At the summit sat the ‘Gate of Truth’; built by a race of magical mountain natives to keep those without a pure heart out of the jungle. The ‘Gate of Truth’ was a huge stone wall with a single arm-hole carved into it. The only way to open the gate was to place your arm into the hole and grab a hold of the lock’s lever. If your heart was true, the release of the lever would unlock the gate and you would be permitted to enter the mouth of the jungle. But, if your heart was not pure, you’d loose your arm by the way of a guillotine. I approach and the sweat built up above my eyebrows as I placed my arm into the hole. I found the lever and closed my eyes; on faith alone, I pulled the lever. Then there was a click. I had done it, the gate swung open and the jungle was in front of me.
The jungle was thick and overgrown with lush green vegetation. Birds and monkeys sang and yelped at my arrival. I pulled my machete out and started to blaze a trail through the mass of vines and branches. In the distance I could hear the steady beating of a tribal drum. I needed to be careful, the tribes of the jungle were well known to be cannibals—and they liked white meat. The cannibals were near, and I could smell them cooking over an open fire and hear their tribal music pounding away. I had just made it past the cannibal’s territory when I heard the rushing of a flash flood. I needed high ground and quick. I saw a large tree and climbed for my life, hand over hand, branch over branch; and then I was safe, the flood passed. Perched high in the tree canopy I could see a thin line of tan land in the distance, it was the desert. I checked my map and plotted a course, climbed down the tree and made my way to the desert.
It wasn’t long after that I spotted the desert through the tree line. The sun was beating down on me and I could feel the heat bouncing off of the ground. I checked my water and stepped onto the dried soil. It was going to be a long and hot hike across the desert and I couldn’t help but watch the vultures circling overhead. My water was getting low when I spotted a lake in front of me. I ran to it. It was a mirage—heat waves reflecting the blue sky. Devastated by the low water level I pushed on, just a little farther to go. I saw water again and shrugged it off. Then I noticed that it was getting closer and that a river really was in front of me. Better yet, there was a boat sitting along the shore. I climbed in and soon found myself fighting raging rapids, dodging rocks, and sliding down small waterfalls.
As the waters calmed I saw that I had arrived to my next obstacle; the ‘Canyon of Death’. A narrow passageway stuffed with vines and giant spiders. I pulled out my machete again and stepped in. I could feel the spiders watching me, waiting for me to get to close. I hacked away at their webs and the vines, continued to push my way through. I was almost out when something caught my eye, the hat of a past explorer, all that was left after the spiders had gotten to him. I shivered at the thought and stepped out of the canyon.
I checked my gear and shook off the willies, and then consulted my map. Just a little farther to go and I should be able to see the twin temples; and then passed that, the treasure. I walked and walked until I stood at the base of the twin temples. They were huge and built with brownish colored stones. I was astonished by them as I walked past. According to the map, the treasure would be in a large chest hidden near a large wall. I searched and search until I found the clue I was looking for, something out of place. It was there, the chest filled with large gold nuggets. I lifted them out of the chest and held them in the sun.
I was still marveling at the find when I heard a voice that snapped me back into reality, “Chris, lunch time!” I wasn’t a daring explorer in a far away land…No; it was a hot summer Saturday at my grandparent’s house and I was five years old. The gold nuggets I held were actually garden rocks that my Grandfather had spray painted gold and hid, the map, drawn by my Grandfather to give me something to do. I had traversed out the front door and up the red brick stairs to the side gate, made my way through the overgrown path along the house where I had heard and smelled the neighbors having a BBQ. Climbed the cherry tree after hearing my Grandmother flush the toilet in the bathroom next to their room, then climbed down and walked to the rowboat turned into a sandbox. I then made my way between the back of the sheds and the fence, and then past two stumps and finally…to my treasure; six garden rocks worth more to me than their weight in real gold.