Becoming The Outdoor Adventure Kind

I am incredibly passionate about my vision for The Outdoor Adventure Kind as an avenue through which to introduce the outdoors to others; in particular, to those who want to experience their own adventures but maybe aren’t sure where, how, or even if they should start. To my core, I believe anyone can and should enjoy the outdoors in ways that inspire and fulfill them. I also know – from personal experiences – that there are so many incredible rewards that come from time in the outdoors. But first, I had to overcome some of the invisible hurdles that can keep a person from ever setting foot on a trail with confidence. I am sharing some of my personal journey here in hopes that it inspires others to takes steps towards starting their own adventures.

Indoorsy Type

Like many people who grew up outside small towns, I spent a lot of time outside. Along with my brothers and a couple of neighbors, I was often found tromping through fields, forests, and muddy creeks as a kid on the west end of the Columbia River Gorge. But I didn’t always consider myself the Outdoor Adventure Kind. Far from it!

Through my teen years I was rather bookish and more than happy classifying myself as a geek and a nerd. I loved science, art, and creativity; after high school, I dreamed of being a marine biologist or a National Geographic photographer. I was convinced (by my own doubts and by other people), however, that I would not have the physical capabilities for any job that involved field work. So adventures were experienced through countless novels, hours of video games, television & movies, and junk food fueled Dungeons & Dragons sessions.

Athletic exercise was on the opposite end of my spectrum of interests. Gym class was the worst. Last one picked for pretty much every activity, with participation avoided as much as possible. I did not join in any team sports during high school. There was a very short stint right about age 20 when I got into yoga and went to the gym regularly, but neither habit stuck very long.

By the time I hit my thirties, I had developed asthma and severe seasonal allergies. I interpreted these as a clear signal that I was not meant to be active. You’d hear me say things like, “If you see me running, it’s because I’m being chased.” I found myself working in a sedentary role that had started as just a job but somehow became a career path. I was very firmly “the indoorsy type” and – for a long while – content with this identity.

Finding Wings

Hummingbird hovering below bright yellow-green blooms with a blue sky in the background.

I was fortunate enough to buy a home with a fantastic yard, which attracts a ton of birds. It turns out that bird watching was the inspiration I didn’t know I needed. Drinking a cup of coffee while watching flocks out the living room window fascinated me, and eventually a feeder went up. I couldn’t identify many of the species, and had to purchase a field guide. Then there were more feeders, and I started to track what I had seen by photographing each feathered visitor. I kept a species list, shared online, and joined local birding groups. Plus, there were hours spent in internet research. In short, I was obsessed.

The more I learned, the more I wanted to see, which meant leaving my yard. Bird watching took me to local parks and woodlands. For my birthday, I got an awesome DSLR camera so that I could take even better pictures. And I loved sharing my new hobby with others, so much so that I started a blog. People started to come to me with the birds they’d seen so I could help identify them. (They still do.) It was great!

As I stayed out longer and went further afield, I had to carry more things like water, snacks, and camera gear. I had to check maps, plan my routes, and rise early to get the best experiences. Out of the blue, it occurred to me that I was not just bird watching – I was hiking! It was better than the bird watching on its own. There was a sense of something I was just starting to get a taste for. And the more I chased that feeling, the more I wanted it.

Invisible Hurdles

Now that I had accidentally stumbled into hiking, it started to become a whole new obsession. Although I really wanted to enjoy it, I found myself running into these invisible hurdles that made me feel incapable, incompetent, and out of place anytime I started planning another outing. After all, I had spent most of my life convinced I was not the “athletic” type; and didn’t you have to be athletic to hike? Sometimes I would plan a hike, only to surrender to my insecurity and stay under the covers until it was “too late” to go hiking that day. That just made me feel even worse!

One set of invisible hurdles came from knowing next to nothing about hiking. Sure, it starts easy enough – go to a trail, put one foot in front of the other. But what about gear? Not just what, but how to use it? Techniques? Where are the “good” trails? Countless hours went into pouring through an overwhelming wealth of internet sites, reading books on every related topic, and going through a lot of trial and error to gain experience. (Luckily, I both love learning nitty gritty details, and have a lot of tenacity.)

Another set of obstacles came from the best of intentions: friends and family often questioned my new passion of wandering the wilderness. I had to answer a lot of “what-if” questions, and not just overcome my own self doubt but also those of loved ones. It’s hard to say how many questions have been answered about crime rates, wild animal attacks, emergency evacuations, and just plain biting off more than people believed I could chew. It’s difficult to build confidence for an army of caring and concerned individuals in addition to developing it for yourself!

Unexpected Results

It’s well known that spending time in nature is good for mental and physical health, and I don’t think I need to sell anyone on those facts. I definitely enjoy all of those expected benefits. “Athletic” has been redefined in my vocabulary; I am more fit than I have ever been. My body has proven again and again that it is, in fact, quite capable if I listen to and work with it.

Mentally and emotionally, it is great to disconnect from technology and spend time outdoors. There is an amazing sense of discovery that comes from visiting a wild place for the first time. Stress melts away while hiking and I always come back refreshed, even after some of the less successful adventures. (Those always make great learning experiences, and are tales for another post.) And, for me, standing on mountain summits never fails to take my breath away and make me amaze at our incredible world.

I didn’t realize it right away, but everything poured into hiking paid me back in many unexpected ways as well. The planning nurtures critical thinking, determining the best gear to carry and the most efficient paths to take. Researching different areas sparks curiosity about what waits to be seen. Time on the trails encourages me to slow down and be more observant in general; these observations capture my imagination and feed my creativity. And the more time I spend on the trail, the more my confidence grows.

I no longer feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, or that I don’t belong on the trail; instead, I find myself encouraging others and seeing them start their own outdoor journeys. I am so excited to share what I’ve learned and help others to discover that they are also The Outdoor Adventure Kind!

If you aren’t sure where to begin, but you know you want to, send me a message. All the links to connect with The Outdoor Adventure Kind are at the bottom of this page, and I would love to hear from you!

Rustic rail signs with one for "Timberline Tr No 600" broken and laying at the base of the wooden post; foreground and background are summer wildflowers and green plants in abundance.