Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do,
than by the things you did do.
Mark Twain

I am on a quest for a Komodo dragon. These antediluvian beasts are highly endangered, found only on two tiny islands of the Indonesian archipelago, Rinca and Komodo. Two guides accompany me, one as a bodyguard and the other to watch for dragons. I am not proud and stick by the one with the gun.

We begin our journey on Komodo Island in the swelter of the equatorial mid morning. For three hours we cross savanna, scramble up and over craggy peaks, and finally arrive at a natural spring where deer, and thus dragons, often congregate. We find a semi-shady spot in some scrub on a nearby mound and take up a silent, sweaty vigil. I am fidgety with anticipation.

Not for long. He is huge! A Jurassic looking monster at least 12 feet long and weighing over 300 pounds, slowly lumbering my way. From my not so concealed perch I stare into his menacing eyes. He stops a few feet away and stares back. We are eyeball to eyeball. I think about running, but then think better of it. Dragons ambush deer for a living! What chance would I have? I scan nearby trees for an easy climb. There are none. I go for the third option and nudge the guide with the gun. He awakens.

With this I relax a little, enough to comprehend my guest. He is a living legend. His forked tongue flicks in and out a savage mouth, scanning the world for prey. Where's a deer when you need one? He resumes his reptilian crawl, passing so close that I can almost touch his pebbly hide which, several sizes too large for him, hangs in horizontal folds along his flanks. The only thing missing is the fiery breath. And the deer.