Accidental Adventure

On Katherine Anne Porter's "St. Augustine and the Bullfight"

Katherine Anne Porter talks much about adventure in “St Augustine and the Bullfight.” She discusses the difference between adventure and experience – adventure being “something you seek for pleasure, or even for profit…for the illusion of being more alive than ordinarily” and experience being “what really happens to you in the long run; the truth that finally overtakes you.” Porter describes several of her adventures, such as climbing a cliff face in Boulder, being carried away at a bounding gallop on a stallion of a horse, and watching bullfighting with friends. All of these adventures undertook her suddenly, and it wasn’t until later that she deemed them “adventures.”

Is it possible to actively seek adventure, and still come upon it? Some would say not, and might say that adventure is something that just happens, and cannot be planned in advance. I must say that, though I do believe this to be accurate, I also somewhat disagree. It is my opinion that, though the best adventures are the kinds that are complete surprises, you can specifically seek out adventure and still manage for it to find you in unexpected ways.

Some of my favorite adventures, for example, took place on days when friends and I got together and decided, “Today, we are going to go on an adventure.” My most recent adventure took place just after my nineteenth birthday, on a day that was planned as a final adventure with my friend Aaron before we both left for college this fall. I can remember the day perfectly, with the warm late-summer sun beating down on us, and the smell of excitement looming in the air. I got into the passenger seat of his Subaru Outback when he picked me up that morning, and the first words out of my mouth were, “So, what kind of adventure are we going to go on today?”

We wandered for a while, bouncing around the bustling, pedestrian-heavy streets of Newburyport, joking and laughing as we ran into old friends. It was a very calm day for adventure, it seemed, and though there was a twinge of excitement still in the air, it was disappearing quickly. Adventure, it seemed, would leave us alone for the day, content with letting us just have time to spend together before we parted ways for the entirety of autumn. The afternoon settled and became just another hang-out day, full of simple, open conversation and camaraderie. It wasn’t until we were on our way back that we found our adventure.

Taking Rt. 1 was the most direct way from Aaron’s home in Hamilton to mine in Georgetown, a trip of about a half an hour. In the car we discussed driving, and how much more fun it was when nobody else was on the road with us. We were driving behind an SUV with vanity plates that, if I recall correctly, spelled out “LXNDER,” or something similar of the sort, that told us that the driver’s name was Alexander. I took note of this (more out of sheer amusement than anything else) as the SUV was slowing down and putting their left directional on to make a turn. Aaron put his foot on the brake, slowing the Outback to let this Alexander and his SUV make their turn.

The next thing I knew, the sound of crunching metal and Aaron’s surprised shouting filled my ears as I felt myself jerk forwards and back again at least twice. I clenched my eyes shut against what was going on around me as a reflex, but had a strangely calm air. When I opened my eyes, I looked around to take everything in. The airbags had not deployed, so the accident must not have been too serious. Aaron was fine, just a bit shaken up, as was I. The worst thing that had happened was that his sunglasses and my hat found their way into the backseat, and the heel-caps of my boots had popped off to find a new home on the floor of the car. We pulled over to assess the damage. Apparently, the man who was driving in the car behind us had not noticed Aaron’s brake-lights, and did not touch his brakes until it was too late to stop the car. He had rear-ended us, propelling us forward to in turn rear-end the SUV before the driver had the chance to make his turn.

Nobody was injured, but the cars were literally bent out of shape. Alexander’s SUV escaped with barely a scratch, while the hood of Aaron’s Outback had crumpled. The same case seemed to be true of the back of Aaron’s car and the hood of the car behind us; barely a scratch on the Outback, but the other car’s hood was crumpled. We called the police to report the incident, and immediately afterwards called our parents. The cars had to be towed, so Aaron’s dad came to pick us both up. I remember marveling at how calm I had remained throughout the entire ordeal, even though I could feel the excited heart rate and slight airy head rush that went along with the adrenaline that coursed through my veins. After retelling our story countless times to police, EMTs, and parents alike, we were finally back on our way to take me home. I distinctly remember the final words of parting that Aaron left me with as I waved goodbye: “Amanda, I think that was way too much adventure for one day…”