In Novemeber of 2005 we went down into the the wilderness for the first time. Equipped with work boots, my uncles old pack, my new three man tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad we trekked into the woods of the Daniel Boone National Forest. It was the first time I had ever been really outside the woods in my neighborhood and years since I had been in the woods in general. We planned to hike sections of the Sheltowee Trace, the great trail named for my favorite frontiersman, Daniel Boone. I believe 28 miles was the official count of our plan.
Driving down in two cars we had trouble finding the trailhead where we were going to ditch our second car. We dropped off our friends at the beginning, and were driving around the country roads of Eastern, Ky. looking for any sign of the trail. We found a little gas station and went inside. In the back there were some guys sitting round in their hunter orange gear shootin the shit. We asked the woman at the front where the Sheltowee Trace was. The guys in the back had a vague idea and pointed us back down the road, while telling us to make sure we had our orange on. None of us even thought about coming prepared with that.
I think our expedition consisted of Kelly, Ming, Sean, Max, Dave, Brian, and myself. It all started when we were sitting around in our studio early in the week when we hatched a plan to go camping down in the gorge. I don't particularly remember why I decided we needed to go, but along with Kelly rounded up a rather large group. Amongst the seven of us Kelly was the one that was most prepared. We all had bits of gear laying around though. After making the appropriate trips to Bass Pro Shop and soliciting my Dad for some early Christmas money we were stocked with most the the necessary stuff: sleeping bags, knives, water filters, cans of beans, MRE's, and lots of rope. Rope is something that I've found necessary on any kind of expedition. You never know what you're going to need rope for, but you always need about 100 more feet than you bring. Not to even mention the merits of a well woven rope.
Rhododendron were what most intrigued me in this environment. We hiked about six miles the first night having to wait for people to come up behind us. Some of us weren't as fit in those days. We set up our camp alongside the Red River across from the suspension foot bridge right next to the trail. We passed whiskey and other things around the raging fire. It turned out to be a cold night. Brian only had a blanket and was shivering the whole night, there were some locals down river shouting all night, and no one got much sleep.
The next day while sitting around eating our oatmeal in the cool autumn air, we found we still had 20 miles to do before we hit the car. It turned out to be the longest hike of my life. We walked along the road for a few miles suffering huge blisters, and at about nightfall we got back to our car and gorged ourselves with snacks from the Slade, Ky Shell station.
We were so inexperienced, and the hike wasn't even that hardcore. We were just a bunch of city folk walking around in the woods. This would be the adventure that started our mom's worrying about us as later we would take off on adventures for days through the woods, rivers, and cities of America.
I can put my guitar in it!
I've learned a lot from this process. The shape of the basket is a little off from the pattern but it doesn't look too bad. It's hard to get the tension in the reeds right. 
I'll be packing this around Austin soon. Probably to the grocery store. I think I'll have to carry a big stick to beat off all the hippie chicks.
