Like any good Ohioans, my family trekked off to the beach every summer.  As experts of I-75, my parents had a special knack for finding pit stops that would not only entertain their children, but also enrich their minds.  They had a good rate going too - about two thirds of their children enjoyed the excursions (which were exclusively Civil War battlefields).  The other third, me, could not have cared less. Easily car sick and easily bored, I would walk around the mosquito-infested fields with a frown on my face, sipping on a warm box of apple juice as the sun beat down on my sour little body in khaki shorts.  

By the time we arrived at the beach, I would practically fling myself out of the minivan, kissing the ground and yelling out my praises.

“Thank you, thank you for not being an endless field of grass,” I murmured into the gravel driveway.

“Elaine, get up, you’re going to get bitten by a crab.”

Gregg Lambton-Carr grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa. There he fell in love with the water, the outdoors, and nature. He fell in love with adventure. Time in the water made him a scuba instructor, and the love of nature made him a photographer. You should ask him about his military service, his nature tours and photographic safaris sometime. Once he gets to know you, maybe he will share his memories about his three-month trip through Africa with six other guys packed in a Land Rover.