An Adventurer is Born.

I personally think that to have a genuine, innate relationship with the outdoors, you have to be born with it. Sure, I have seen many people learn and grow to enjoy doing outdoor activities, (like my husband,) but to be absolutely head-over-heels in love with nature is something you either have, or you don't.
It can't be taught.

I was lucky enough to be born into an adventure-loving family. At 10 months old I was the youngest person recorded to complete the Bowron Lake Canoe Circuit. I took my first steps at Black Tusk on Mt Garibaldi, lost my first tooth at Murtle Lake in Wells Grey Park, and celebrated my 8th birthday at Dawson City, on the shores of the Yukon river following a month long wilderness canoe trip.

It was a long time before I realized that our family was different. That the definition of "camping" meant something very different to me than it did to everyone else. That not every kid spent the entire summer break (and every weekend in between,) somewhere out in the wilderness.

When most kids were getting Nintendo games for Christmas, we were getting Coleman lanterns, waterproof stuffsacks, and collapsible light-weight cook sets.


I grew up thinking powdered milk was a treat, and that shaking it in a nalgene water bottle was the "normal" way to make pudding. I thought that everybody's dad knew how to rock climb, and everybody's mom could rig a 10 foot sail on the bow of a canoe while it was still moving.

I got used to carrying an air-horn or bear spray on my waist at all times, going to the bathroom in the bush, stringing food in trees, and checking in with parents regarding daily water consumption and bowel movements.

I have seen countless bears, moose, beavers, and even a couple of cougars. I have paddled my way through absolutely terrifying storms, (one of which broke my mom's nose when said sail collapsed on her face,) seen lighting strike and burst trees near us into flames, and even the elusive "triple rainbow."

I have seen stars like most people will never see them.
I have seen the Northern Lights.
I have flown a kite on a mountain top.

I can light a camp stove. (But not my BBQ at home.)
I have seen a mother grizzly and her cubs at less than 100 feet away.
I have slept on the slopes of an active volcano.

I have hiked for 7 days in pouring rain.
I have given food and supplies to strangers.
I have had hypothermia.

I have run rapids.
I have climbed mountains.
I have slept in snow-caves.



I can roll a kayak.
I have gold-panned in the Yukon and Alaska.
I have gone swimming in alpine lakes.
I have hauled my canoe over beaver dams.
I quite enjoy dehydrated food!

I have feared for my life, saved someone's life, and thanked God for being alive.

Do you love being outdoors, or do you love the outdoors itself? Does it give you a peace and sense of belonging like no human ever could?

It's a hard feeling to explain. Most people can't comprehend that I feel most at home with no makeup, no deodorant, no flush toilets, no showers, and no refrigerator. But there's a lot of other things I don't have out there too; stress, expectations, deadlines, disappointment, judgement, complacency, or lack of self-worth.

There is such a feeling of accomplishment when reach your destination by means of self-propelled power, while carrying your entire means of survival on your back. (Or in your boat.) This primitiveness is lost on most people, but I thrive on it. Crave it, even.

I call myself a second-generation outdoor freak. Why? Because I'm not out there hang-gliding, rapelling down glaciers, attempting to hike to Mexico, or pulling crazy stunts like my parents did. But it's definitely in my blood. And I'm very fortunate to have such excellent trainers, with such amazing stories and gear I can borrow from. (It's too bad blogging didn't exist 30 years ago. I would so love to read what my parents were thinking during those early adventures.)

But perhaps my feeling for the wilderness is best summed up by one of my favourite verses:

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more..."

(Lord Byron, 1814)

If you'll excuse me, I have to go outside now.

~ Adventure Girl