The sound of birds singing wakes me up, and I roll over in my sleeping bag, feeling the long-missed tingle of cool air on the tip of my nose and the freshness of sleeping outside again. Taking a big breath of crisp air, I slide out of my tent and stretch my arms high and wide.

Looking around, I’m stunned as I look around at the scenery. I’m deep in the forest, surrounded by tall redwoods that rise toward the sky all around me. It’s both grand and knocks you down a peg. There’s no way to think you mean all that much in the world when you’re surrounded by thousands of trees that were standing tall and proud a hundred years before your family even came to this country.

I zip up my tent, heading up the narrow trail that winds through the trees toward the headquarters of this little camp that I’m staying in tonight. Reaching my rental ATV, one of the few vehicles that can reach this place, I quickly brush my teeth with peroxide before spitting into the dirt. That done, I approach the little cabin nestled in a small clearing just as the front door opens.

A huge, grizzly looking guy comes out, unkempt beard hanging wildly down to his round gut that’s covered with a classic lumberjack plaid flannel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more obvious stereotype of a ‘mountain man’ in my life.

There’s a moment where I hope that he remembers we have an appointment because I have no doubt that he could easily kill me with an axe and hide my body somewhere out here, and I’d never be seen again. There are good and bad things about making a sales pitch fifty miles from the nearest town . . . axe-wielding maniacs definitely fall into the bad things category.

My initial fears immediately soften when he smiles, lightly yellowed buck teeth peeking out through the unruly facial hair, and offers me his callused working man’s hand. “My boys said you checked in last night. How was your sleep?”

“Best I’ve had in weeks,” I admit honestly. “Thank you for letting me pitch a tent on your land.”

“Not a problem,” the big man says. “By the way, I’m Sam Sampson, owner-operator of this outfit. Come on in the house. I’m sure my wife Susan will have a glass of tea ready for you. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll let me have one too.” He says it with a wink, so I smile back.

“Yes sir, Mr. Sampson. I’m Nicolas Broadmoor of ADRENALIN Sports. Looking forward to seeing if we can be of assistance with your equipment needs out here,” I reply, following him. I know I should feel strange about doing a sales pitch out here dressed in rags . . . but hell, I’d feel stranger wearing a suit right now.

“Just call me Sam. Everybody does,” he says. “Not sure if that’s short for Samuel or Sampson, but that’s what they call me.”

As we walk in the house, I hear a laughing voice, mocking Sam’s deep speech. “I don’t know what my ma was thinking when she called me Samuel Sampson, but story goes she lost a bet to my dad.”

A petite grey-haired woman comes out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a pitcher of tea and two glasses. I can’t help but smile as her twinkling eyes take in her husband and she sets the two glasses down on the rough-hewn wooden table. I vaguely wonder if they’re for me and Sam or me and her. “Sorry, Sam, but I hear that same damn line every time you meet someone new. You need new material.”

He laughs and growls at her, waiting for her set the tray down before grabbing her in a big bear hug and shaking her silly as her giggles bubble out like champagne. It’s cute . . . adorable, really. I mean, both of these people are well into their sixties. They might even be in their seventies. But it’s totally obvious they’re both still crazy in love for one another.

There’s a twinge in my heart, a quiet hope that I’ll have a love like that someday. I have a momentary flashback to Rose but dismiss it just as fast considering we barely knew each other. But damn, I wish I’d gotten to know her a little better. Just a chance, an exchange of phone numbers, something . . . but now all I have are memories.

Smirking at my own internal monologue, I tune back in. The tiny woman offers her hand, and while she looks like a strong wind might blow her over, her hand is work-worn and her handshake solid. “Welcome to our place. I’m Susan Sampson, charged with keeping this old coot in line. And let me tell you, that’s a full-time job. Sit down and let me pour you two boys a glass of tea.”

I catch Sam giving me another wink that he got a glass after all as he takes it from Susan with a hearty smack on her cheek. “Thanks, honey. You know I love it when you give me some sugar . . . in my tea.”

She shakes her head, but there’s a slight flush in her cheeks when she slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “Behave.”

She leaves, and Sam turns to me. “So, Nic, what exactly do you think ADRENALIN Sports can do for me and mine? No offense, I know you’re a good man by the way you came out of those woods feeling right at home . . . but military surplus has done right by me for a while now. What can you guys do different?”

“Well, let me break it down tour by tour that you offer. First, your adventure tours. I know ADRENALIN sounds like we’re all extreme sports, and there’s a kernel of truth to that. We got started with extreme outdoor sports. But we cover all forms of outdoor sports. Right now, the big buzz about you guys is your ATV and hiking trips, everything loaded onto backpacks.”

“That’s my son’s gig,” Sam admits. “While I got no problem riding an ATV anywhere, the idea of walking up the side of a mountain anymore just gets my knees aching something terrible. Then again, half the folks who come here end up aching too.”

“Sure, and I know that a lot of those folks show up . . . less than prepared,” I reply. “And you rent out equipment to them, which I think is a smart idea. No worries about fussing around with replacement parts, no problem with substandard equipment. And surplus, it’s usually good stuff, I’m not gonna put it down. But I can guarantee you that ADRENALIN can provide you with equipment that’s been tested from the Rockies to the summit of Everest. You need clothes, packs, boots, whatever, we can get it for you. What about your other programs?”

“Well, I like to take folks to do some fly fishing when the season is right, and occasional hunting trips for recommended guests,” Sam says. “I gotta admit, that’s the trickiest. I don’t just take any old Joe out hunting around here. I’ve gotta know you’re good with a gun, safe and able, because I’m not running a lesson range out there. Most of the folks I do allow, they bring their own kits, although I will provide ammo if they need it.”

I nod, laughing lightly. “Makes sense. Personally, I can’t imagine that teaching someone to shoot on sight is going to result in a satisfied customer with a big game trophy. And professionally, there’s reasonable risk and there’s stupid. Good to know that you know the difference.”

He gives me a nod. “Come on, let me show you the garage.”

Sam takes me out back to their garage, which is more like a good-sized country barn filled with ATVs and snowmobiles where there used to be horse stalls. Along the other side, arranged with all the neatness and efficiency of a good storeroom, is the rest. Fishing gear, snowshoes, cross-country skis, packs, tents, and all the needed accessories, all neatly arranged and obviously well-cared for.

“My shooting bench, along with equipment and my lending gun safe, is in the back corner,” Sam says, flipping a switch. Another light switches on, and I see two military-style weapons racks with locks. “They’re not as good as my old Winchester I keep in the house, but I keep them all in good condition. Also in the locker there, I’ve got the archery equipment, not too much since most of my bow hunters treat their bows better than most men treat their women. But I got the accessories if they need it.”

“Very nice,” I reply, making a mental note to add archery to my proposal. Knowing that our primary placement is going to be the larger pieces of equipment, I head directly to the ATVs, which are maintained and seem to be in great working condition, but they’re dated, and well, not ours. “Let’s get a start here, if you don’t mind. Now, it’s very obvious you take pride in caring for your gear, but I think we can do better.”

We spend the next two days going through our catalog item by item, and the contract line by line. I have to give and play some, but I use a sales tactic that I’d picked up long ago. By giving some more in the ‘big’ items, like the price of an ATV, I can gain ground in other areas. A six months’ supply of gunpowder, primers, and rifle cleaning materials runs quite a pretty penny, and ultimately, Sam can pass that along to his customers as a convenience fee for onsite supplies. Win-win for everyone.

In the end, all the office sales time isn’t the same as the real deal, so we decide a test drive is in order. I call the head office after the first night, and that weekend, a trailer pulls up in town, delivering a couple of ATVs for us to take out on one of their usual adventure tour tracks, along with all the accessories we’d pack. Sam and one of his sons even agree to take along a ‘customer pack’ for comparison.

Side by side with their older models, the difference is immediately obvious. The ADRENALIN packs are lighter and easier to carry, and by the first night of our tour, it’s just a matter of getting names on papers and setting it aside for lawyers. That lets us spend the bulk of our time enjoying some time outdoors with no pressure, and Sam offers to sidetrack to show me his favorite fishing spot. He has a passion for living off the land, being outdoors, and I can appreciate that.

Over the next few days, I thoroughly enjoy rising with the sun and exploring the forest all day as we hike, fish for our dinner, and camp under a canopy of stars. I brought along one of our bows, one that works for both fishing and hunting with minimal adjustments, and I’m thrilled when Sam seems impressed with my prowess and the equipment.

On our last night deep in the forest, Sam stares into the small fire we’d started to cook the trout we’d caught. It’s after dinner, the trout eaten, and we’re just enjoying the last of the warmth. “So tell me about your life back home, Nicolas.”

I lean back, enjoying the warmth of the flames as the night chill starts to come on. “Well, not much to tell, I guess. I grew up loving the outdoors, but at the time, I didn’t think it’d pay well. So, I went to school for business, did sales after graduation. But I kept up doing a lot of outdoor adventure stuff as much as I could. Every weekend, every holiday, every vacation I get, I’m going somewhere and seeing new things, experiencing a different world, learning something. Hiking, skiing, parasailing, hang-gliding, bungee jumping, skydiving, you name it, I’ve done it. If there’s a rush involved and it’s outside, I’m in. But I also love the rush of seeing the world in an uncommon way and the peace I get in the quiet, far from the city where I mostly work. Started working with the guy who owns ADRENALIN as a sales rep and worked my way up. What about you? How did you and Susan decide to start doing adventure tours?”

Sam pokes around in the fire to distribute the coals before answering. “This has been my family land for generations, but Susan and I used to only come here for weekend getaways. We lived in town when the kids were little, but when they’d all grown and gone, we just felt empty. They send us pictures of them in the mail, and everyone came out for Christmas—made Susan so damn happy. Anyway, we all came out to the cabin for Christmas one year, and after the kids went home, we stayed to clean up the house, do a few projects, and ended up snowed in for a couple of weeks. By the time we could get out, we didn’t want to leave. Sounds crazy, but locked up in a cabin with that woman for two weeks is my idea of heaven and we just didn’t want to go back. So we didn’t. One of my boys had a friend who wanted to go hiking so he asked if I’d show him around a bit, so I did. I guess he posted some stuff on the Internet and all the sudden, I’m getting letters asking if I’d take them out too.”

“That’s quite a story you have there,” I reply honestly, feeling slightly jealous.

Sam nods. “We get to stay busy, be alone when we want to be, and share this beautiful Earth with folks who recognize they need a little time with Mother Nature.”

“I definitely needed this recharge myself. I haven’t been getting out as much as I’d like with the busy work of business taking me here and there. I travel—hell, all I do is travel, it seems, but it’s all work, no play.”

Sam hums knowingly. “You know what they say about that? Makes Nicolas a dull boy. Hell, before this, I was like you. Worked a job just like you . . . then I realized something. All a man really needs is a woman he loves and some time in the sunshine. That’s all we could ask for.”

He smiles, lifting his face up to the night sky speckled with bright stars as if they’re the sunshine he’s talking about. “Think I’ll turn in. Gonna see my Susan in the morning, and she’s gonna have missed me something fierce these last few days, if you catch my drift. I’m gonna need my Zs to keep up with her.”

Laughing, I lie back, staring at the stars too, catching a flash of light streak across the sky.

I have a moment of childhood innocence and make a wish on the shooting star. “A good woman and sunshine . . . sounds like a great life if you can make that happen.”

With a smile, I head over to my sleeping bag, curl up, and nod off.