It’s fun getting lost in the city, even when you think you know it. It opens surprise doors down dark roads that lead to lights and right where you knew you were.

I’ve been with enough teams that I’ve been transplanted into multiple major metropolitan cities across the great and complicated Union of States.

Some are comfortable with what they are, embracing their roots and reviling in it. The roads are paved in some places, as if it was this nice before, and round-abouts instituted within the grid structure allow the city to showcase and hide the best things about it.

Some are stuck in the past as their incorrect believes have stunted their growth correctly. So instead of logic and manageable sensibility, one is left to ponder why two towns separated only by woods would ensure there are only two ways between.

It’s the kind of slog-minding thinking portrayed in the glamorized fictional tales of the ‘Wild West’, spun so thick that the book and film lore of Wyatt Earp is taken as fact even when historical proof proves it false.

Better yet, the kingdoms of 12th century Europe with thier stones and steel piled high and worn paths created by the feet of men, horse and cattle, walked by few wanderers and with good reason since trust of anything unknown was at a premium.

It circles back to fear, the underlying feelings behind it all. It is that fear that controls some and affects all. And it’s an never-ending battle to keep it at bay, especially when you are alone on a hill, facing it from 60 feet 6 inches.