My dad once climbed Mt Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48 states, on a whim, wearing sneakers and carrying a paper-bag lunch. The full story only gets wilder and is best told over a campfire. But it's a good starting point for my own outdoor story.
Growing up in the Pacific Northwest as my dad's daughter provided me years of experience navigating the unknowns of the outdoors. A "short walk" often turned into a half-day of bushwhacking through marshland. While I ultimately loved these adventures, the hanger and discomfort from these outings is likely what propelled me into being an exceptional Project Manager who *always* has protein bars and extra socks on hand.
Once I started planning my own outings and could no longer point the finger at dad's spontaneity, nature humbled me quickly. I've been rained out, lost, and under-equipped. Essential gear has failed at the worst moments, I've been dealt wet firewood, freezing temperatures, and I've woken up in a wet sleeping bag more than once. I've encountered wildlife that scared me and camp neighbors that scared me even more.
Each misstep became a lesson. Over time I learned the systems, skills, and gear that made the outdoors feel safer, comfortable and more enjoyable. Eventually refining days of planning, and hours of packing into a simple set-up I can toss into the back of my car.
This journey of trial and error taught me that the outdoors are deeply personal. What works for my dad evokes anxiety in me. What works for me likely feels constraining for my dad. Safety and comfort are subjective. They look different for everyone. While general wilderness preparedness can be taught, knowing what makes you feel safe and comfortable, and meeting those needs is a confidence that can only be built through experience. I'm here to guide and support as you trial and discover the systems and tools that make getting outside feel possible. Because when you feel prepared, the wilderness stops feeling intimidating and starts feeling like an invitation….
I still wouldn't recommend climbing a 14,500' mountain with sneakers and a paper bag like my dad, but I wonder what the world would be like if everyone carried just a little of his confidence, curiosity and enthusiasm for the outdoors.
