Outdoorsiness

I don't think the F-Word will mind if I announce that when it comes to outdoorsiness, he's very much outmatched by yours truly. In fact, he insisted fairly regularly when we met that I was a tried-and-true hippie, which might have had something to do with my politics, love of natural foods, and my beloved bumper-stickered '88 Saab (sadly, left behind in New Mexico). My counter-point to his hippie assertions, though, could not be refuted: hippies do not wear hot shoes. I mean, really. Look around if you don't believe me.

At any rate, my non-authentic-hippie self does love the outdoors. My childhood involved a fair amount of camping, whitewater rafting, swimming, farm-rambling, etc. In college we'd drive up to New Hampshire regularly for killer day-long hikes up the White Mountains. In New Mexico, you can hike to your heart's content, and I did.

One of my favorite outdoor activities is kayaking or canoeing. I love being out on the water, so much so that I woke up at dawn every morning during my freshman year of college to row with the crew team, even though I had neither the patience nor dedication to be a true athlete or, at 5'6, the height to be great at it. But gliding on top of the water, seeing Boston wake up in front of me, was something I loved. For the wedding weekend, I'm going to organize a Saturday morning kayaking trip on the sound. My parents are big kayakers, and I have enough friends interested to make a fun outing of it. It's just incredibly peaceful out there, and I want to share it with everyone.

The F-Word? Not so much. Unlike me, he was a serious athlete. But as he likes to joke, he tried the outdoors once, and that was enough for him. So while I'm out on the water, he'll be golfing. These, then, are for him:


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