I like a lot of things about living in the south, but I especially love the weather. It rarely gets any colder than the 20’s, which means I can spend a ton of time outdoors all year.
I’ve noticed, though, that my idea of outdoor life differs from others. I find myself someplace in the middle of the weekend campers who don’t really sleep outside and hardcore backpacker who wants a survival show reality in the woods. And although I hunted and fished when I was young, nowadays I prefer take a camera.
So let me break it down for you here, borrowing an idea from Zen Buddhism. This is my middle path.
I Don’t Want to Kill Any Animals. Not Even Fish.
In Georgia and Alabama the woods draw hunters and fisherman. I have friends who find it hard …show more content…
The rest of the weekend they lay in plastic fold out chairs in front of a tame little fire and wait for the next opportunity to grill a store bought steak on the gas grill. At night they pick up the wireless and stream some netflix.
But me? I just want a three or four day weekend. I don’t want any company. I don’t take any hunting firearms or fishing gear (well, I have some line and hooks in an emergency bag); I don’t take beer or soda or MRE’s; I don’t have a $450.00 pack or $300.00 hiking boots; I might take 50 foot of static rope JIC, but I’m not planning on climbing a damn thing, other than a few steep paths. I love the new brands of filter bottles so I don’t have to pack in a lot of water. I want a small fire at night and in the morning for coffee, a nearby ridge line where I can watch the sun come up; a spot far enough out that I can really see the stars, but close enough that I could crawl home if I broke an ankle on some loose …show more content…
That’s his given name. Last time I saw him he was on his way to free climb a sheer pane of granite somewhere in Maine. To get the rock climb, he hiked three days into the woods with his Osprey pack, no sleeping bag or tent: just climbing gear, tarps, and a bag of dehydrated food. Rowdy’s friends are girls like Meadow (real name?) who spends nearly 150 days a year outside, is dead opposed to traditional girl norms like shaving her legs. She wouldn’t vote for Obama because she thought he was “basically a Republican.” She can also ID almost any tree, snake or bird call without a reference book. She can make a rabbit trap from a sapling, shoot a buck across 400 meters of open field, and although I’ve never seen it, Rowdy says she caught a stream fish bare handed out in Colorado one summer. If I ever get stranded outdoors in a remote spot, I’d want her to be
I’ve noticed, though, that my idea of outdoor life differs from others. I find myself someplace in the middle of the weekend campers who don’t really sleep outside and hardcore backpacker who wants a survival show reality in the woods. And although I hunted and fished when I was young, nowadays I prefer take a camera.
So let me break it down for you here, borrowing an idea from Zen Buddhism. This is my middle path.
I Don’t Want to Kill Any Animals. Not Even Fish.
In Georgia and Alabama the woods draw hunters and fisherman. I have friends who find it hard …show more content…
The rest of the weekend they lay in plastic fold out chairs in front of a tame little fire and wait for the next opportunity to grill a store bought steak on the gas grill. At night they pick up the wireless and stream some netflix.
But me? I just want a three or four day weekend. I don’t want any company. I don’t take any hunting firearms or fishing gear (well, I have some line and hooks in an emergency bag); I don’t take beer or soda or MRE’s; I don’t have a $450.00 pack or $300.00 hiking boots; I might take 50 foot of static rope JIC, but I’m not planning on climbing a damn thing, other than a few steep paths. I love the new brands of filter bottles so I don’t have to pack in a lot of water. I want a small fire at night and in the morning for coffee, a nearby ridge line where I can watch the sun come up; a spot far enough out that I can really see the stars, but close enough that I could crawl home if I broke an ankle on some loose …show more content…
That’s his given name. Last time I saw him he was on his way to free climb a sheer pane of granite somewhere in Maine. To get the rock climb, he hiked three days into the woods with his Osprey pack, no sleeping bag or tent: just climbing gear, tarps, and a bag of dehydrated food. Rowdy’s friends are girls like Meadow (real name?) who spends nearly 150 days a year outside, is dead opposed to traditional girl norms like shaving her legs. She wouldn’t vote for Obama because she thought he was “basically a Republican.” She can also ID almost any tree, snake or bird call without a reference book. She can make a rabbit trap from a sapling, shoot a buck across 400 meters of open field, and although I’ve never seen it, Rowdy says she caught a stream fish bare handed out in Colorado one summer. If I ever get stranded outdoors in a remote spot, I’d want her to be