Accepting failure in the search for spots

Everywhere has its best spots. It could be a restaurant, hotel or something outdoors.
They get that way thanks to discovery, then verification by others – but not too many. Overuse begets ruin, just as curiosity begets exploration.
In the context of the outdoors, it’s so much easier to go to a new best spot with someone else. Otherwise, you’re by yourself and the possibility of failure increases.
Plus, no one wants to waste the good portion of a day finding something not worth visiting again.
That leads to self-scolding. Had you been a little less Lewis and Clark you could have been hiking, camping or catching fish in great familiar spots. Instead, you just forged through heavy brush, following a trail made by things that don’t believe in catch-and-release fishing and don’t hike for the view.
Sometimes, though, it pays off big time.
All that said, on Monday I went to a river I usually ignore. The next group of buddies I have coming up from California have already been here more than once, so I wouldn’t want them to get bored and return to their wives and kids with the same stale tales of Alaska. (See sarcasm, noun, from the late Latin sarcasmus.)

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