After another wild and crazy time in Vegas to celebrate Jim’s birthday on Halloween, we had to get away from the madness of Sin City.

We headed about 2 hours north to a remote and wild location far off the beaten path from anywhere. It’s a stunning, off-grid camping area that’s exactly as it was when settlers crossed the prairie and we wanted to see it before winter sets in up here on the range. We’ll tell you more about it soon but for now I’ve been wondering:

Where do you draw the line between being an idiot and being an adventurer?

Last night as I lay in bed while bitterly cold 45mph winds battered the side of our rig all night long and temperatures went well below 30, I thought about the many times we’ve put ourselves in the middle of situations that “normal” people would think ridiculous.

There was the time we drove right into the Idaho mountains in late October, because we wanted a free campsite.

Another memorable incident was enduring two days of sandblasting winds in the desert.

And now this week, we came here knowing that high winds and cold temperatures were in the forecast for one day. Why? Mostly because we’re cheap, we love free camping and we like to get away from people . . . but also to test the limits of our four season Arctic Fox, the solar power system on our roof and the satellite Internet connectivity that allows me to share our stupidity with you.

To the snowbirds streaming into the Southwest right now, heading north is just pure foolishness. But to someone with an adventurous heart and a risk-taking spirit, going full speed into the abyss is both exciting and terrifying. It’s the stuff that great campfire stories are made of – if you survive to tell the tale!

I’ve never thought of myself as being anything at all like the wingsuit airplaine jumper who just broke the world record by jumping out of an airplane 18 miles above the earth, or our crazy musher friends from Denver who are presently heading north to spend winter in Alaska. I don’t have the guts or the skills to do what they do and I often tell myself that people like that are just nuts!

But when others look at Jim and I, do they think the same thing about us?

Did people think that the first astronauts were idiots? Or Sir Edmund Hillary? Or Nellie Bly or Calamity Jane or Hallie Stillwell?

When it comes down to it, “adventure” defies definition because it means different things to different people. To some, just staying in RV parks is adventurous. Or riding a bike 20 miles. Or taking a walk somewhere new. About the only thing I can say that it doesn’t mean is sitting at home, doing the same thing day in and day out because you’re afraid of the unknown. To me, that is both beautiful and terrifying.

In the end, who’s the real idiot?