I’ve never considered myself to be an adrenaline junkie. I’ve never skydived or bungee jumped, never run with the bulls in Pamplona and never, at least intentionally or to my knowledge, swam with sharks.

I have, however, raced mountain bikes, run ultramarathons and taken extended backpacking trips into the wilderness. Certainly, those activities at least imply that I like to test my limits, within reason.

My self-diagnosis has always been that I have a healthy dose of wanderlust coupled with a strong desire for adventure and, as it turns out, the trait may be genetic. Research shows that a variant of the DRD4-7R gene, nicknamed the “wanderlust gene,” exists in about 20% of the population.

The gene predisposes those who have it—I’m totally claiming it without the need for genetic testing—to travel and adventure. It alters our response to dopamine. We are less dopamine sensitive which, according to Google, “can lead to risk-taking, such as traveling to new places, exploring or trying drugs.”

Looking back, there’s been a clear pattern over the course of my life of longing for the next adventure, and although risk-taking and drug use have never been my thing, perhaps my inclination for exploration and adventure can be attributed to genetics.

Interestingly enough, I recently had the pleasure of watching Yeti’s “All That is Sacred.” The short film is a “documentary of a documentary” about a cast of characters in early 1970s Key West who were obsessed with tarpon fishing.

The Yeti documentary follows the filming of the movie “Tarpon” which featured a group of famous fishermen that included Jim Harrison, Tom McGuane, Jimmy Buffet and Richard Brautigan. I highly recommend both documentaries as each is a fascinating look into the fishing, writing, music, booze and drugs — it was the early 70s — that were a part of this era in the Florida Keys.

I was struck, while watching, by a quote from Jim Harrison in his discussion of tarpon fishing:

“It is said that we go through life with a diminishing portfolio of enthusiasms, so you try to seek out in life moments that give you this immense jolt of electricity. It’s a tranquilizer better than any chemical tranquilizer, so you try to have something that gives you this electricity and freshens up your feeling about being alive.”

Harrison’s quote perfectly encapsulated the effects of the “wanderlust gene” long before the research was ever conducted in 2016. For those of us with a “diminishing portfolio of enthusiasms,” the adventure that lies over the next mountain or within the next wilderness, river or ocean is an ever-present or, at the very least, regularly occurring thought.

As I mentioned earlier, while I may have the heart of an explorer, I’m also more of a selective risk-taker. You’re most likely never going to read about me doing any extreme skiing or base jumping in this column.

However, braving an alligator-filled Florida swamp for a week of turkey hunting or hiking along the Appalachian Trail for a week or two are certainly not without risks. They are, however, without speed. I’ve noticed that the pace of my adventures seems to have slowed to match my age.

Hiking and backpacking have replaced trail running, and while I may take my son Dan’s mountain bike around the gravel loop at Bonita — something I’ve been thinking about doing a lot lately — you probably won’t find me out there barreling down a single-track with my hair on fire like I did in my 20s.

The point is, I still have the adventure bug, and my prayer is that I always will. Aside from taking the mountain bike out for a spin, I’ve got my sights set on a backcountry trip that would combine one of my favorite activities—hiking—with one of my latest obsessions—fly-fishing.

Fly Fishing the Smokies, a Tennessee and North Carolina based fly shop and guide service offers a backcountry brook trout trip out of both their Gatlinburg and Bryson City locations. The full day wade trip for native Southern Appalachian Brook trout offers fishing on streams within the Great Smoky Mountain National Park as well as streams outside of the park.

The trout, which are actually char, are a subspecies unique to the southern Appalachians and are known, according to their description on the Fly Fishing the Smokies website, flyfishingthesmokies.net, as “the spookiest fish in the Eastern United States.”

Of the many subspecies of trout I have caught, I have yet to catch a brook trout and would love to make that happen. However, what really got me excited about the adventure was my initial reading of the trip requirements:

“Fishing for Brookies requires hiking into the back of beyond. These fish live in high elevation backcountry streams that are typically not easy to access. Guests booking this trip must be in good physical condition and able to put in a good hike.”

I’m sold, they had me at “back of beyond.” Now, I just need to sell G, but how can she say no? Remember, it’s a genetic condition, which almost makes this trip a medical necessity, a prescription for adventure, if you will. Until next time, here’s to seeing you out there, adventuring, in our great outdoors.