Every adventure must come to an end

Dick Deane and I went stomping along the tall grasses of Moses Lake's shoreline earlier this month.

Treading through the immaculately green lawns, from back yard to back yard, knocking a "hello" to each of the neighbors, the city councilman showed me some new angles of Moses Lake I had not expected to see.

We would eventually accomplish our mission, photographing a present-day replica of a half-century old picture of the Alder Street fill, but not before finding out-of-commission ferry stations and wells drilled long ago along the water's edge. I later told my fellow reporters of the fun I'd had on the "little adventure" we went on that Friday afternoon.

My two years at the Columbia Basin Herald have been filled with those kinds of little adventures. Every time I set out into the far reaches, I found myself meeting someone new or learning a unique new aspect of a longtime issue. The people I've met and the places I've been have been a truly wonderful part of my Herald adventure. Working first in Ephrata and then in Moses Lake, I never expected to survive the challenges beyond my first day, as well as my first PUD and city council meetings.

A friend and former boss, former Herald editor Erin Stuber, brought me to Moses Lake from Kellogg, Idaho, to begin my incredible journey. For that opportunity, and the lessons I have learned on these adventures along the way, I will always be grateful.

I still haven't thrown a bull whip to dart out of the way of a rolling boulder, but dangers of sorts did find their way even into the most mundane of newsroom conversations. I know for one thing, that I will never again tell sports editor Pam "Paminator" Robel that my Montana Grizzlies could beat the snot out of the Washington State University Cougars. Some things just go without saying.

But the zip lines and rappelling ropes might not be that far off in the distance. If, ugh, I mean when "The Amazing Race" calls, my ukulele and Hawaiian shirt-clad sidekick Matthew Weaver and I will heed the call! Until then, hold the fort down, and practice your strumming. I'll polish the belt buckle on my gnome outfit.

Mysteriously, and pleasantly, that gnome outfit hasn't haunted my in-newsroom adventures as much as I thought it would. Simple plot twists can always take your adventure in places you never imagined. I never thought I would respond to "puddin'" as a nickname, but page designer and newsroom ray of light Jonda Pingetzer proved me wrong.

In journalism, like life, you usually don't have the full story until after most of your reporting is done. That was true with Friday afternoon investigative trips to Grand Coulee and the Potholes reservoir, when reporter David Cole and I were seeking information on a specific story. We may have ended up empty handed on our initial missions but ended up with a completely different, and all the more interesting, series of stories to tell.

These wonderful people, and the ones who came before and after them, have made each day in the Columbia Basin exciting and new. For this Idaho mountain man, coming to the desert oasis would turn out to be quite an adventure all by itself. The new lessons I've picked up, and the new people I've met along the way, have brought a kind of intrigue which has made this job new and fun.

Sadly, every one of these little adventures must come to an end. To the Columbia Basin community, I thank you for letting me intrude into your adventures. I'm glad you all could be a part of mine.

For the last two years, Brad W. Gary has been a reporter with the Columbia Basin Herald. Today, he's embarking on a brand new little adventure.