Outward Bound

When I was thirty-six and my son was grown, I signed up for a 78 day Outward Bound winter semester class. I had always dreamed of doing an Outward bound class so I saved up ten thousand dollars, went hiking everyday, after work, to get in shape, and signed up for the course. The other participants were 18-21 years old and none of them had ever left home. The woman I shared a room with, the night before the course started, had never even ate in a restaurant by herself.

The course included rock climbing and a desert trek in Joshua Tree, an advance wilderness first aid course, alpine mountaineering in the Sierras, and sea kayaking in Baja. For 78 days I endured the non stop chatter of 10 other people, heavy gear and the humiliation of being treated like a 5 year old out on a field trip.

Once, in Baja, we turned our kayaks into a beautiful protected lagoon. There was a huge whale skeleton laying on the beach. I beached my kayak, grabbed my snorkel and mask, jumped into the three foot deep water and started snorkeling. It wasn’t long before I hear a whistle. I looked up and there was the instructor, he said, “In order to snorkel, you must first have a snorkeling safety class, then find a snorkeling buddy to go with you, have an instructor in the water, and an instructor in a kayak.� Outward Bound could suck the fun out every outdoor experience.

I think that Outward Bound class has cemented firmly in my mind the ideas of light weight travel, the joys of solo adventure, and never, no mater what, signing up for any group experience.

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crow

Hermit, long distance hiker, primitive cabin dweller, seeker.

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