Tag Archives: camping

The Foreman 400 Rides Again

This month is already flying by and as I take my morning and evening walks between editing film I have noticed the coolness in the breeze and the smell of Fall in the air. The annual Halloween Party is just a few weeks away and more importantly it is camping season. My favorite time of the year. Now, to get you caught up the ATV had an issue and would not start. Mostly this could be because of me working in Dallas for a year and she was not run nearly at all. And this is a ’98 Honda Foreman 400. The same ATV my father bought brand new when I was a kid. I have so many awesome memories on this thing. I can recall a time back in the day when we were still in Alabama and we were riding this trail called “Powerline” the trail that follows the powerlines that ran for miles. Me and my little Suzuki 160 and my dad on his brand new Foreman 400. I can vividly remember this trail that started off pretty wide and slowly became narrow and more narrow until you reached a spot that your four wheeler could barely squeeze through. Once you were able to get through that though there was this big creek, nearly a river. It was beautiful, something out of a Bob Ross painting. We drove through this river and pushed through to the other side on the Foreman. At that moment I felt like we had crossed an ocean and me and my dad were explorers in an undiscovered forest. I was just a little kid then and the Foreman was a massive beast to me. Fast Forward twenty eight years later and I am upgrading it.

I had cranked it once since I had been back but the editing work was taking all day and I started getting in the hole of staying in my room working all day. I went out to move it and she wouldn’t crank and my heart sank. I could feel how bad she wanted to run in the woods and the fact that she couldn’t even crank made me feel so guilty. It was my fault. If I really cared I would have come out and cranked it everyday and I would have done a test drive every weekend and just keep her clean and beautiful but I hadn’t. My priorities had gone astray so to speak. The first shop I called gave me a long winded speech about how because the Foreman was from 1998 that they could not get any new parts. Then he dropped the fact that if I didn’t drop a deposit that they would not even look at it to tell me what is wrong with it. So that shop wouldn’t work, which was disappointing because I had used this place before, but alas never again. Then I found a place near me and immediately he told me to bring it down and guaranteed he could fix it. A few days later he did and then I pulled the trigger on updates and most importantly the winch I had gotten a year ago. We had used Adam’s and it made me want mine installed even more. That and a laundry list of issues that the previously mentioned shop never caught, or more likely never looked or even cared. This ATV is going to be like brand new. I am already planning the trip to Croom and I am praying that I get a call soon telling me to just come pick it up.

Some people may think that this is an overreaction to something trifle, or perhaps a huge waste of money, and though I did still pay less than I would have for a brand new four wheeler I can still understand why some people may feel this way. The fact is that you may not be wrong but you are also not entirely right. This petrol powered toy doesn’t really serve a huge purpose beyond just making me happy. I do use it to clean up my yard and during hurricanes it is a huge help, but these are tiny moments in my life. Realistically this ATVs main purpose is to bring me joy, make camping films, and bring happiness to my life. With that being said it is hard for me to say how important it truly is to me. Life is very short and often takes more than it gives so it is important to truly live happy and to be alive and present in life. I am blessed that a lot of gear and my ATV have a special story and that they were loved long before they were under my care, leaving them beautiful for me to enjoy. This writer thinks this could be the true secret to a long and healthy life and if not it is a sure good spot to start looking. Thank you so much for reading, God bless y’all and don’t forget to go outside.

NYE in the Wild: Lake Delancy, Ocala National Forest

New Year’s is the trip I always wait for—the one I plan hardest and look forward to most. Since 2020, it’s become a tradition: camping out the turn of the year, welcoming whatever comes next from deep in the woods. This year, Adam and I returned to one of our favorite spots—Lake Delancy, tucked away deep in the heart of the Ocala National Forest.
As with any good adventure, getting there wasn’t without its surprises.
I’d booked the site for December 30th and 31st so we could roll in easy, set up camp, and settle in. My driving, however, started on the 29th when while loading gear, Adam called—naturally I did the responsible thing and ignored it. Then came the text: “We have an issue.”
My heart skipped. I called him immediately.
With a laugh, he said, “I knew that would get your attention.” His truck repairs weren’t finished, and the truck he was using couldn’t haul the extra dirt bike Chris would need when he joined us on New Year’s Eve. This meant I needed to load my ATV, drive an hour south to Sarasota, pick up the dirt bike, head back home, finish packing, and be ready to roll the next morning.
Simple enough…
I loaded up the Foreman and headed south, hung out with Adam for a bit, strapped down the dirt bike, and made the return trip. Back home, I finished packing everything else—camp gear, food, tools, layers, and a banger play list that would leave the forest in awe, undoubtedly bringing out all natures creatures in curiosity of the awesome music. The next morning, we met at Publix, stocked up on supplies, and formed a little convoy to pick up Leonor.
This trip was special—it was Leonor’s first tent camping trip, and our first together. Sharing my favorite tradition with her was very special to me.
The drive took about two and a half hours. When we turned onto the Forest Service Road—pockmarked, dusty, and barely maintained—my heart swelled. That road means remoteness. Quiet. Freedom. We passed the familiar sign: “Welcome to the Ocala National Forest.” That sign always feels like crossing a threshold—into the bush, into God’s country, where the wild things are.
Adam had already arrived and pitched his tent. We wasted no time setting ours up, Leonor helping lay out blankets and gear since we knew the temperature would be dropping fast. As the sun slipped behind the trees, Adam grinned and said, “About time to get the fire going.”
Dinner that night was chicken thighs with squash and zucchini, the veggies chopped by Leonor and cooked to perfection by Adam. It was one of those meals that makes everyone go silent for a while—nothing but the sound of chewing, fire popping, and my occasional “Mmmmm”.
As we were swallowed by the dark, the cold had settled in hard. Around 35 degrees and falling. We walked laps around camp, half-hoping to spot the bear Adam and I had seen on a previous trip. But after several rounds, it became clear: it was too cold for anything to be moving, including Old Smokey.
Leonor and I turned in first. The rest of the night was brutal.
The temperature dropped to 28 degrees—bone-deep, painful cold. My feet ached. I shivered uncontrollably. None of us slept. At first light, I got up immediately, Adam built a fire, and we stood in the sun slowly defrosting. I’ve slept in cold places—reenactments, winter camps—but this was the coldest night I’ve ever endured.
Breakfast fixed everything. Runny eggs, bacon, cheese, Wonder Bread—Adam has this ability to create a feast anywhere we are, it is one of his superpowers. After eating, Leonor and I drove about 30 minutes into town for more firewood, blankets, hand warmers, food, and water.
Back at camp, it was finally time to ride.
We unleashed the machines and disappeared into the Ocala backcountry—Adam leading on the dirt bike, me close behind on the ATV with Leonor holding tight. Out there, far from everything, the noise of the world falls away. All that’s left is peace. Pine, sand, sky. Truly wild Florida.
After the ride, I sent the drone up and captured a bird’s-eye view of Lake Delancy and the endless green ocean of forest stretching to the horizon. It truly moves you in a way I find difficult to articulate. A feeling of adventure and beauty, awe and excitement.
That night’s dinner was ribs—the best ribs I’ve ever eaten. As the fire crackled, we counted down the final moments of 2025. In the distance coyotes howled at the moon adding a beauty and calm to the darkness of the night. When midnight hit, we all celebrated another glorious year and shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Another year closed the right way.
That night, we were ready for the cold. Two socks with a hand warmer sandwiched between them, extra blankets, sleeping bag layered just right. I slept like a rock—confirmed by my snoring, which Leonor kindly pointed out the next morning. A brutal first night, followed by a perfect one.
As we packed up to leave, nostalgia tugged at me. Leonor and I took one last slow walk around Lake Delancy, and I told her stories—past trips, mishaps, and my favorite: the night we followed a black bear I’d happily nicknamed Old Smokey.
“I always see something,” I said. “I hate that this time—when you’re with me—we didn’t.”
I hadn’t even finished the sentence when a black bear cub wandered calmly through camp.
We stopped. Took photos and video. Followed at a safe distance while alerting others. Campers watched in awe as the bear passed through, unbothered, wild, and perfect. A gift from God—a beautiful sendoff.
Ocala will always be special to me. And Lake Delancy will always feel like home.
If you ever get the chance, go. You might just find paradise.