I have a dark secret that I’m finally ready to
share with all of you. I’m only telling you now because I think you deserve to
know who has been writing all of the articles that you’ve been reading. This
information will certainly shock even my parents, but I can’t keep it inside
any longer. I was raised by wolves. “But you lived in a house with a family! I
saw you interacting with your human siblings all the time!” some may say. Indeed,
I had to keep up appearances…during the day anyway. When night fell, though, I
would carefully creep out my window and reunite with my canine brethren. I
learned how to prowl and hunt and blend in with my surroundings like a furry ninja.
After moving away from the Oquirrh Mountain foothills ten years ago, I had to
give up my wolfish ways and conform to civilized human society, which has been
a long and hard struggle.
Lately, however, each successive time I hear a dog bark or look up
at the waxing moon, the urge within me to race into the forest and disappear
gains in intensity. I’ve decided to give in to my wilder side and stop denying
my primal wolf instincts. It may take a while to readjust to a more survivalistic
and physically demanding lifestyle, but I cannot ignore who I am any longer. I
am a wolf trapped in a man’s body.
With that said, it stands to reason that I will become an
unreliable human being and that I will not be able to continue writing my
column about the great Utah outdoors. Given, I will probably have much better
material to write about in the coming months than I have ever offered in any of
my previous articles, but I will have spotty Internet access at best, plus
wolves are slow to accept technology and any use of computers would warrant
frowns and disapproving shakes of the head from the pack.
Thus, I bid you all adieu. It has been fun and oftentimes
enlightening as I have explored my memories and made new ones in order to
provide an entertaining and/or thought-provoking perspective of Utah’s
expansive, natural playgrounds. As my last gift to you, I give you the rare
opportunity to spot the elusive “Wolf-man,” who may be appearing at a
well-stocked sheep ranch near you. May Utah’s vast landscapes always indulge
your sense of wonder and continue to grant you priceless memories.
Though I choose to embrace a wolf’s way of life, I desire to keep
a small shred of my humanity intact in the form of intermittent communications
via blogging. As Internet access is limited and, as explained earlier, looked
down upon by every wolf I know, I’m not sure how often I will be able to
transmit my thoughts and experiences to you. Rest assured, though, that I will
strive to do so. For access to my prose (and some poetry), past and future,
feel free to visit www.gabeswritingworld.blogspot.com. In the case that you just want to ask a question or leave
a comment for me, or if you need me to intercede for you concerning wolfish
matters, write me at gabe.eberhard@gmail.com. Thank you all for being such
great sports and for reading my random outdoors thoughts each week. Farewell!
