Chapter Four: Footprints in the Underbrush!

Deep in the heart of an unnamed jungle, the men of Camp Discovery gathered together to hear their beloved second-in-command speak. Things had been tough over the last few days. Demoted from being the Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Exploration Association, then promoted to Exploristas! the men of Camp Discovery had discovered that due to their outlandish and overwhelming fame and success, the Queen had decided to cut off their funding. Money is pulsing Khaki heart of a good expedition, no matter what people say about pushing back the frontiers of human ignorance. And so, the good men of the Exploristas! had set about trying to raise money. A few unorthodox and unsuccessful experiments later their second in command, Jungle Jim, had decided, all on his own, that they would scrape together their funds and hazard it all on one more expedition. The mind-boggling success of this expedition would lead to more funding and so on and so forth ad nauseum. Caught up? Good.
Jungle Jim stepped out the underbrush onto the raised dais* that served as the main podium of Camp Discovery! and cast his flinty blue gaze over the expectant faces of the men. They in turned gazed adoringly at him and he marvelled at the loyalty of these good men. The harrowing attempts to raise funds had strained the team to its very limits the but rock hard bedrock of loyalty that held these men together like glue. Or something like that. Maybe not glue. hmmmmm......
One of the men cleared his throat pointedly, startling Jim out his revelry.
"Oh sorry men, I got lost turning over appropriate metaphors and similes for this moment."
The men nodded. They loved grammar!
"Right. Here's the situation men. I've looked things over with Financial Fred" Jim pointed to an obsessive little man with a clipboard " and it seems that we have enough funds for one proper expedition. We need one expedition, so fabulous, so groundbreaking that we will either reap the proceeds of the expedition or the Queen will be forced to give us our funding back."
"But Jim, I thought you said that the Queen cut off our funding because we were already too successful."
"Yes, thank you Daniel. What I meant is that this expedition has to be so successful that she doesn't really see the point in squandering the crown's resources on any lesser band of explorers. Savvy?"
The men nodded. They loved crushing the competition!
"So men, any ideas?"
The men all started jumping up and down shouting out ideas.
"How about one with pyramids!"
"How about one with dinosaurs!"
"How about skulls!"
All the men groaned.**
Jim held up hands that had caressed a thousand ancient ruins and spoke.
"Good men! Good! You're all thinking. But I think I have the answer. Have I ever told you men about how I became one of the greatest explorers in history?"
All the men shook their heads and settled in for a good story. There was a slight rustling as several of the men opened delicious little cartons of milk.
"At one time I was not the paragon of exploration you see before you. I was a lowly archaeologist trapped in the mediocrity of his own position."
Archaeological Andy's face fell.
"Then one day I decided that I had had enough. I set out to find my true calling and soon I found myself wandering through the burning deserts of the Himalayas."
Cartographer Chris frowned and made a mental note to cross out all those pesky mountain marks from his map of Nepal.
"For days I strode through the burning sands until I came to the foothills of a vast mountain range."
Chris sighed.
"I began to climb the tallest mountain that I could see. It seemed as though I climbed for ages, enduring burning hot days and freezing nights. At one point I was forced to strangle a snow leopard for food."
All the men sniffled. They loved endangered animals!
"Finally I came to the top of the mountain and I found a wise and ancient explorer sitting in medication."
Some of the men frowned, maybe that was a typo.
"I prostrated myself before the man and cried out, 'How can I become the greatest expolorer the world has ever seen?' The old man looked down at my humbled but still mighty frame and said, 'It's not getting what you want. It's wanting what you've got.'"
All the men sighed. They loved wisdom!
"And I cried out, 'All I have is Khaki!' And at this, the old man smiled at me and gave me a blue flower to eat. It was not as delicious as the snow leopard but it had more fiber."
A few of the men smiled wryly. All to well did they understand the importance of staying regular while on an expedition.
"After that I studied with the man for several years. He taught me all I know about history, archaeology, swinging from vines, arcane languages and everything else that I know about exploration. But finally the day came when my great mentor was bowed with age and the winds of death blew coldy on his neck."
The men sighed. How poetic!
"With his last breath, he pressed a clay jar into my hand, claiming that it held the secret to one of the greatest secrets of mankind! This is where we'll find the expedition we need, men!"
And with that, Jim reached into one of his many, many pockets.

*This dais was leftover from a previous edition. Apart from the odd bloodstain, it was a perfectly serviceable 3 ton block of marble carved with skulls and demons. Jim thought that it was totally awesome to speak from the dais.
**This last came from Nasty Nick. He used to called just Nocturnal Nick until they found out what he was up to with the skull collection at night.

On Choosing Native Guides

Confession time. Have you ever been up to your neck in impenetrable, heart-of-darkness, Kurtz is going to eat me jungle, seemingly lost? Have you then confidently reached into your rucksack (or over-the-shoulder bag or man-purse or whatever you use, we don't judge) to pull out a map, then set about working the map over with compass and ruler, only to find that this map wasn't quite as accurate as you thought and you have moved quickly from seemingly lost to most definitely lost? Don't worry, so have we all! And most of us have made it out to tell the tale. We here at Exploristas! understand, and that's why today's column concerns the importance of carefully choosing your native guide.
Native guides, similar to machetes, blankies, compasses and canteens are an indispensable part of any Exploristas! equipment list. Without them you run the risk of not only getting lost but blundering past certain warning signs, glaringly obvious to the native but not so to you, telling of doom, destruction and/or dismemberment should anyone be so brash as to proceed (more on that later). This can result in all sorts of inconveniences. Not only might any of the aforementioned fates come to pass but you will be assured of unpleasant jokes from any Exploring Association once word of your little faux pas gets around. So obviously, Natives guides are a must-have.
However, not all native guides are equal and there are certain attributes that one should look out for. Follow the checklist below and you'll be hacking your way through dark continents with confidence.
1) Nativity. Be sure that your native guide is actually from the area you are exploring. In today's jetsetting age, it's quite easy to find transplants to an area that claim local lineage but are bound to blunder their (and your) way into some blood soaked gully somewhere that a true native would know to avoid. Certain areas are extremely difficult to explore for this reason. Most of the state of Arizona, for instance, is teeming with non Arizonites just frothing at the mouth to show you their 'favorite' box-canyon. If you have doubts of your native guide, check in with the local Exploristas! field office and we'll be happy to furnish you with either authenticated natives, or if you prefer to go it on your own, a set of test questions to pose your guide (e.g. "Arizona Native, if I should place some sort of belligerent insignia on a flag, one that might provoke some sort of physical retaliation, will I be in any trouble. " Answer: "Yes sir, that would constitute a class 2 misdemeanor, similar to allowing a donkey sleep in a bathtub." "Excellent, Arizona Native! Guide away!")
2) Local specialization. Some areas of the country are know for having several different environmental strata. One might think that nativity alone guarantees knowledge of the area that you're exploring. Not so! One must also find a native who understands the customs and environment of the precise area you're exploring. As an example, one Explorista! was interested in combing through the dark and uncharted alleys of New Haven, Connecticut. Thinking that an Ivy league education would carry a certain expertise with the local customs, they hired the services of a sophomore from Yale University and then confidently set out from the walled confines of that particular palace of learning. And that's the last we ever heard of them.
3) Loyalty. This and the next quality are really the gravy. These qualities are what distinguish the average native guide from the stalwart expedition companion. Loyalty is often hard to come by. Native guides generally have some sort of silly qualms about their countries being explored by Exploristas!, it seems that they have a fear that boatloads of Conqueristas are sure to follow. You and I know that this is silly but nonetheless it does pose a bit of a problem when finding guides. If you can try to find a cross breed between your people and the locals. This usually muddies the picture somewhat and allows you to use subtle psychological tricks to win them over to your side. You can also give them trinkets. Many natives are just crazy about shiny trinkets. We suggest making a few bottlecap necklaces. They are shiny, attractive, and come from beer, which is fun to drink while making bottlecap necklaces. Failing that you could always just cut them in on the glory by making them actual partners. This is bit radical, a bit new age and anti-establishment but what the hell, we're Exploristas! not lemmingistas.
4) Intrepidity. All too often Explorers have come across some foreboding doorway in the heart of the jungle only to find that their native guide flat-out refuses to cross the threshold. Usually this is due to some horrifying local legend about the consequences, which can range from a wasting disease to frequent tax audits. Finding a guide who is ready to spit in the face of their upbringing and leap headlong into the aforementioned doorway can be very difficult. Luckily, puberty tends to bring out this quality. So, for most areas finding a teenager with a rebellious sneer usually means you're set. In the developed world, puberty lasts (at least mentally) much longer and so with most college campuses can furnish a number of likely candidates. However be sure to refer to rule # 2.
Obviously there are a host of other qualities that you may or may not find important but we here find that those are generally just garnish. Find a guide with the four qualities above and you'll be all set. Until next time.

Chapter 3: The Bells of Great Zim!

Deep in the pulsing heart of the jungle, swanky techno throbbed as torches lit the bamboo catwalk. All the men gathered in the flickering light and watched expectantly. Just as the house music reached a crescendo, the bushes parted and one, well turned khaki clad calf peeked out. The men erupted into appluase as the calf was followed by the attending thigh and then prompty by the seductive form of Suspiciously Svelte "Sam". "Sam" sucked in his (always) clean shaven cheeks, silenced the crowed with a hooded gaze, paced out the end of the catwalk, gave a spin and struck a pose.
"Excellent! Excellent "Sam"!" cried Jim,"We just need a bit more naughty, a bit more predator. Your the big cat, we're the gazelles!" Jim made a note on his clipboard and then froze as a familiar throat cleared itself by his elbow.
"Yes, Daniel?"
"Um sir, not to question your creative genius, but what exactly is the plan here?"
"As I have explained before Daniel, we need to raise funds so that our little Exploristation outfit here can keep afloat."
"No no, I know that sir. But...what is the plan here?"
"Ah. This, Daniel, is a fashion show. Did you know that some of those so-called "Designers" out there make absolutely ridiculous profits? Hmm. That's a pie we need a slice of, Daniel, so I have put my very best creative juices into the blender and whipped us up a Fashion Frappe!" Jim wasn't completely convinced of the eloquence of his analogy but he decided to muscle through it anyway.
Doubting Daniel pursed his lips and looked thoughtfully as Suspiciously Svelte "Sam" paced down the runway flapping a large Khaki cape like gigantic pterodactyl wings.
"So what would you same the theme is for this show?"
"Urban Explorista: The Concrete Jungle! Genius isn't it?"
"Well sir, it is promising but don't you think we might, I don't know, just...try using another color besides Khaki? I'm just throwing it out there."
Jim turned a blank face to Dan and blinked.
"Daniel. What does that even mean?"
"Look, Daniel, where were your smart suggestions before? Huh? It's not like this is the first scheme we tried."
"Sir if you're referring to the bake-sale I specifically warned you to keep the Cook away from any zoos."
Jim sighed bitterly, it was really amazing how much black rhino didn't taste like chicken.
"And if you're talking about the machete throwing routine I definately told you that One-Eyed Wally was not the man to use, especially with volunteers."
"Alright fine Daniel!" Jim snarled, "What kind of ideas do you have?"
"Well I don't know Jim, what about some actual exploring?"
"Explorista-ing."
"Whatever."
Jim sighed, "Daniel, you may never fully understand how much it pains me to say this, but....you're right." Jim turned to the darkness and clenched his fist.
"Now is the time for Action!"
Dan rolled his eyes. Quietly.

Chapter 2: Death Song of the Panther Women!

History Hal was was just getting warmed up. The rest of the men had finally settled on an amphibious Great White versus a pack of those fluffy, vicious little rich dogs. Hal figured that if they were going to bend the rules a bit, then he could open up the field to Megafauna! Just imagine how those dogs would fare against the mighty Glyptodon! Or even the deceptively peaceful Beast of Baluchistan! He opened his mouth to speak and was immediately interrupted by the manly thud of Jungle Jim landing on the conference deck of Camp Discovery!
All the men fell silent and gazed adoringly at their second in command. Tall and broad, Jungle Jim exuded the kind of masculine virility that held the men in thrall. Even kept some of them up on summer nights. A couple of the men in the back stared at the delicate curls of virile chest hair that sprung forth from the artfully unbuttoned collar of his shirt. But even the raw physical manhood of the man held them in sway, it was his character that truly captured their loyalty.
Strictly speaking the actual leader of the Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Explorer's Association was the legendary AQ. But the men found him difficult to approach. Not only literally (his bungalow was at the very top of the canopy with only a manky knotted rope as access), but figuratively. Even if you approached him with the simplest of questions (e.g "AQ? Quick question. Purely theoretical. What is the best way to kill a zombie?"), he would glare over his wire rims and fix you with a gaze that spoke volumes. And not those slightly repetitive but entertaining Tom Clancy volumes, where all the women were doctors and knew wicked card tricks. NO! They were dusty, "Rise and Fall of the blah blah blah" volumes. Then he would draw in a deep breath and begin lecturing the questioner about something entirely unrelated, leaving the questioner to nervously ponder the uses the cook would find for the zombie rummaging around in the mess hall.*
Jungle Jim, on the other hand, was easily approached by even the lowliest of the crew. They all remembered how Jim would sit up nights holding the hands of Homesick Harry! And so humble! Why lately, Jim had even taking to calling his jawline fat!** Yes the men of Camp Discovery! would have followed Jim to hell and back. Even to Discovery! Now Jim held up hands that could choke the life from a yangtze river dolphin (and HAD!). Their leader wanted their attention.
"Men, I know there have been some rumors flying around of late."
The men looked furtively at Damp Dennis.
"And I thought I would cut right to the chase. The Queen herself has written to us!"
The men all stood at attention. They loved the Queen!
"She has decided that we are no longer the Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Exploration Association."
The men stood shocked, one or two of them began to tremble at the lip. Jim knew he had to act fast before he lost them!
"Hold on men, I have here her letter" there was a pause as Jim dug around in the cavernous recesses of his stylish yet utilitarian cargo pants, "in which she outlines her knew vision for us."
He held up the letter for all to see; immediately a hand went up. Jim's eyes narrowed when he saw whose hand it was.
"Yes Daniel?"
Doubting Dan cleared his throat "Jim if that's the Queen's letter, why is it written in pencil?"
Jim mentally moved Dan to the top of his "First Into the Scary Hole" list, and continued.
"Well Dan, I'm not the leader of the Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Exploration Association, am I? The letter was sent to AQ, wasn't it? I wanted to get take the letter itself but we all know how possessive AQ is of his desk, so I had to make a copy."
All the men nodded knowingly; Stumpy Stu looked ruefully at the place his fingers had been.
"At any rate, the Queen, after thoughtful review of our glorious history, has decided that we are too maverick, to outside-the-box to be referred to as an Exploring Association and instead has dubbed us....The Exploristas!"***
All the men cheered. They loved Mexican Food! Jim basked in their cheering for moment and then held up his hands again. The glare off of his broad palms dazzled the men into silence.
"That's the good news men. The bad news is that since we have been so disgustingly successful and daring with our exploring, she has decided to cut our funding."
The men looked around at each other; this was not a part of exploring that they usually handled but it definitely sounded like there would be trouble.
"But men, I'm not worried. All we have to do is raise the money ourselves. What he need here is not blank stares!" Jim drove one massive fist into his palm,"We need Ideas!"

*Generally the best way of dealing with a Zombie is a bullet to the head. If you want more information, consult Max Brooks' "The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Undead" now available in paperback from Amazon for $11.16.

**All the men knew this was ridiculous. Long ago the Gods had carved Jungle Jim's Jaw from a single piece of flawless diamond and then smoked it with the kind of virile stubble that could only be tamed with a hideously sharp machete.

***Actually what the Queen had said when she heard about the Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Exploration Association was "The What?" This was followed by short but pointed discussion of some received expense reports, after which the Queen had dubbed them several things both less Queenly and less flattering than Exploristas.

Chapter 1: Sunrise in the Yucatan!

Jungle Jim came slowly awake to the idyllic sounds of the men discussing the lineup for their fantasy reality show "Animal Smackdown!"
"What about a Grizzly bear and a wolverine?"
"Weeeeelll, I guess that'd be alright. Though, it is a bit tired, really. They're always chucking wolverines and Grizzlies into the same forest and seeing what would happen. I think we need something a bit spicier."
Another voice chimed in. "How about wolverines and Hikers!"
Jim sighed; Violent Vic really hated those hikers. Ever since the accident with his mother.... Luckily cooler heads prevailed.
"How about Wolverines and a Great White Shark!"
There was a pause as the men (and Jim for that matter) envisioned it. Truth be told, some of the men who were more on the "Ancient Ruins" and "Deciphering Hieroglyphs" side of exploring weren't all that familiar with the world's fauna and were envisioning some sort of land battle. Zoologist Zach set them straight.
"No No. You can't go pitching land animals versus sea animals. "
"Alright, how about a shark that could breathe underwater?"
Zach sighed.
Jim thought that Zach was a good man but sometimes a little impatient. That was a good idea! He knew that they'd figure it out. Jim rolled out of plush feather hammock and went on the deck of his bunglow.
High in the canopy of the undisclosed jungle that was the home of Camp Discovery! Jungle Jim, second in command of Her Majesty's Most Faithful and Daring Exploration Association, leaned over the balcony of his arboreal home and brooded over the fate of his men. His flinty blue eyes, normally so piercing, deepened to a rich and troubled azure. At least, he thought it was azure, the light on the mirror he had mounted on his balcony was a bit dodgy so they might have been ultramarine. He wasn't sure. He leaned closer for a moment and then got back to the task at hand.
There was some hard news to deliver to the men and he'd been up much of the night thinking of ways to turn it around. He knew that it was critical to keep morale up at all times. He bitterly remembered the Affair of the Kinkajou. That would never happen again. But First! He needed some coffee. Jim stepped into the Khaki bunny slippers his men had thoughtfully given him for his birthday and made his way across the rope bridge that connected his bungalow to the mess hall. Jim went in and stopped at the sight of the cook.
"Hey cook. You alright?"
"Da" the cook grunted.
"What are you doing?"
"Watching food channel. I like food."
"In your underwear?"
"I like food a lot."
"Why are your hands down your underwear?"
"Is cold. You want I should make you some toast?"
"No that's cool. I'll just get some coffee."
Shaken, Jim got his Joe and made his way back to his bungalow, where he took a few breaths. The cook was not a pretty man. Jim gulped down his coffee and threw open the doors of his wardrobe to a shimmering wall of Khaki. He knew that when he spoke to his men, it was critical to look his best. He carefully selected his attire and gave especially attention to blousing his pants over the boots that embraced his powerful calves. Finally he chose his hat. The pith helmet might have been more commanding but the slouch hat was more blue collar. He wanted to try and get down on the men's level. And besides, it set of his rubenesque jawline.* He gave himself a once-over in his full-length mirror and as was his custom, blew a kiss at the mirror.

"Who loves you baby?"

With that, Jungle Jim leapt off of his balcony in a powerful swan dive, grabbing hold of a vine and swinging down to the conference deck of Camp Discovery!

*Jim was not exactly sure what rubenesque meant. At one point the cook had been watching some exercise show and was going on about rubenesque something or other. When Jim looked up at the television, he saw rock-hard (though obviously some kind of soapstone rock compared to volcano forged granite of Jim's physique) aerobics instructor. The whole man was almost as handsome and rock hard as Jim's jawline. And so.....

Annals of the Exploristas!

It may be hard to imagine, but at one time the Exploristas! were not the smooth, well-oiled internet based advice and information forum you see before you. Yes, once upon a time we were just a ragtag band of misfit explorers who decided that one day, we were going to redefine the way Exploring was done. As an inspiration to you all, we have decided to pull out the Annals of the Exploristas from the Vault at Camp Discovery! and publish them. Enjoy.

Keeping Sharp: The Importance of Target Practice

As all Explorers know, the main point of our job is to push back the frontiers of human ignorance. We are usually on a mission more of peaceful discovery than wanton destruction. However, there come moments, such as when faced by a bloodthirsty and irritatingly uppity tribe of so-called "indigenous peoples", when you must set aside high minded ideals and dole out a serious smackdown. This brings us to the main topic of today: target practice.
Unfortunately, due to some progressive lawmaking in national governments worldwide, it's no longer possible for an Expolorers keen on target practice to just go knocking about the woods banging away at whatever moves. You might hit a bumblebee bat or a yangtze river dolphin (well not anymore I guess, but that's sort of the point of what we're saying) or some other endangered beastie. Now you might think that this would limit your options and to a certain extent it does, but we here at Exploristas! believe that if you simply practice some of that resourcefulness we explorers are so famous for, you can work around this little snag.
Many populations of animals occasionally get out of control. Often due to a lack of natural predators or a particularly abundant season, some animals will experience a sudden spurt in birth rate. This can lead to all sorts of complications. Weak bodied or weak minded specimens can live on and pass their genetic code, weakening the herd as a whole. Or, more horribly, resources can get used up and the entire herd will starve. This is why judicious culling is extremely important. There are several species currently experiencing this state of affairs; we suggest you choose philosophy graduate students.
We're not trying to sound anti-intellectual. Far from it! Explorers at their foundation are the purest intellectuals. You could call us Intellectualistas! But just look at the man on the left. It's obvious that this creature and many more like it need to be put down. Also, they make it nearly impossible to get in and out of Starbucks quickly.
You can find small flocks of these animals loitering in "coffee houses", haunting library stacks or snapping their fingers at poetry readings. Another good option is to follow them to popular Undergraduate watering holes, where they will try to attract mates with memorized passages. Though they may seem pale and weak, we argue that due to their choice of habitat, they still make challenging prey. For whatever reason, local authorities frown on the culling of any of the subspecies of grad student (unless you're in the USA, where the prevailing attitude at the White House is that these College Boys are ripe for the plucking) and so, along with target practice, you will get to practice evasion and survival tactics. Until next time, Good Hunting!

The Truth About Cats

No matter where you are exploring, be it the wilds of the Yucatan or the dark recesses of your grandmother's attic, you must be mindful of local fauna. Many creatures are obviously lethal, such as Rhinoceri, Tyrannosaur and Red-Winged Death Bats. But there exist, stalking throughout our lives, animals who are more cunning, whose pure evil doesn't surface until you least expect it, whose Hell-Spawned character is hidden beneath of veneer of cuteness. I speak here of the cat.
Despite the heroic efforts of countless generations of violin makers and the recent gains made by Ted Nugent and his Truck of Justice, the population of these perfidious creatures has steadily increased. Many normally sane people have been drawn into the seemingly insipid gaze and luxurious "fur" these creatures use to hide their true nature. Because of this, the cat has become a household item. And this is exactly what they want!
What people fail to understand is that like the alligator, the shark and the cockroach, the cat is a nearly perfect organism and hasn't appreciably evolved in millenia. They are ruthless, efficient killers, as the recent songbird holocaust has shown us. So when you come face to face with a cat, your first question should be: How can I kill this furry little demon? This where the Exploristas can help you.
1) Hit it with a machete. All good explorers carry machetes as a basic tool for hacking through the jungle, making camp mirepoix and shaving. They are also effective tools for hacking filthy felines to bits. As a warning though, cats are notoriously quick. Note the phrase often used to describe the author of this blog: "Cat-like reflexes".
2) Hit it with a dog. This is also a good option. Most dogs are on the side of Light and can make effective agents when faced with a Cat. However, cats are tougher than they appear so the choice of dog is important. Though the convenient portability of the Bichon Frise makes it a tempting selection, most cats will kick their fluffy little asses. We Exploristas suggest you buy a Rhodesian Ridgeback and feed it on a steady diet of cats. These fine animals were bred to hunt lions and though a pack is necessary for a feline of that size, one or two are usually sufficient to dispatch housecat.
3) Hit it with a violin-string maker. These men, though they may seem like effete nancy-boys, come from a fine tradition of Cat-Fighting. Warning: their techniques are gory. If you wish to ever sleep again, I suggest turning your attention to something less disturbing, such as any of the Faces of Death movies.
4) Use SCIENCE!
5) Kiss your ass goodbye. If none of the above options work, you're done for. This is why we ask that all explorers implant a homing beacon in their skulls. We'd like to be able to contact your mother should you encounter a cat.
Until next time, good night. And Good luck.