When your social media feeds become
jammed with photos showing a series of fantastic camp-sites (at least
half of which are surely staged - no-one willingly sleeps on a talus
slope), soaring ridge lines, dazzling waterfalls, glowing sunsets,
and the beautiful people are all trying to take a photo that will
"trend well on Instagram," it's easy to think that
adventure can only be found in distant lands equipped with fabulously
expensive equipment. The image might play well for generating
followers, but, adventure as Patrick Watson says is "twelve
steps into your backyard."
Milking out one last run in the fading light,
Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park
All that adventure really requires is
access to the natural world - the more expansive the better, but even
a small park can offer adventure - some imagination and a desire to
explore. You don't need a car, a GPS, a fancy hydration pack, or a
handful of sugar filled gels, all you need is the desire to see and
do something new to you.
Sunset, Spring Mountains, Oregon
I have hiked, climbed, skied and
paddled in many countries, but, some of my best adventures have been
the ones when I literally walked "twelve steps into (my)
backyard, Through the tall green grass and into the world."
Sea kayaking Palau
One sunny spring day when we were
living in Nelson, we decided to climb Copper Mountain from our house
without using any infernal combustion engines. We rode mountain
bikes 12 km and 1200 metres up Copper Mountain Forest Service Road
until we hit the snow left over from the winter. Stashing the bikes
in the trees, we continued on foot to the pass between Red and Copper
Mountains, and took the south ridge to the summit where we enjoyed
eye-popping views of the surrounding mountain ranges.
Bonnington Range, Nelson, BC
One year in July, when we were both
nursing climbing injuries and could not go mountaineering, we loaded
our bikes on the front of the Slocan Valley community bus, and rode
up the valley from our house in Nelson to Slocan City, where we
climbed a half dozen sport routes under a glowing sun on Slocan
Bluff. We had lunch in a park at the south end of Slocan Lake, and
cycled the Slocan Valley Rail Trail south down the Slocan Valley
following the meandering bank of the Slocan River through river
willows and past beaver ponds all the way to our house in Nelson.
Quiet pools along the Slocan Valley Rail Trail,
Slocan, BC
Our Tasmanian house-sit, situated in
the rolling farm-land by Native Hut Rivulet, has provided endless
hours of adventure. I've followed animal tracks through gorgeous
eucalpyt forest in the fading light to watch the sunset over Mount
Wellington from Howards Hill. In the early morning, before dawn,
I've walked out through the open fields with kookaburras laughing at
me as I hiked uphill to watch the fog rolling through the valleys
across farm-houses with one light shining in the darkness. Echidnas
and wallabies have watched me as I pass by on beaten in animal
tracks, and rainbows stretch over water holes.
Rainbow over waterhole,
Campania, Tasmania
I discovered a 50 metre long sandstone
bluff in a grove of native gum trees and I've scrubbed the lichen off
to create a private bouldering wall. Wallabies lie sleeping in the
bush nearby as I spend an hour working different boulder problems
before meandering along animal tracks through fern gullies back to
the house. Five hundred metres above the valley, on Coal River
Sugarloaf, I've wandered lost in a foggy gum forest on a drizzling
grey day, and descended the south ridge down to the valley on a sunny
day with brightly coloured parrots flying through the trees.
Looking down on Campania from Coal River Sugarloaf
Each time I've walked out the door and
into the world, I've had a new adventure. Some days I go out early,
some days late, some times in the bright noon-day sun, and others in
gusting winds and blowing rain. I've shivered and sweated, seen
sunrises and sunsets, watched kangaroos boxing, and echidnas digging
for insects. Cockatoos have shrieked at me from the tree tops, and
kookaburras laughed. Each minute, each hour has been a gift, and
it's all required nothing more than a pair of old sneakers, a
raincoat, a wooly hat and the desire to explore. "Ain't it feel
right, Ain't it feel nice, In your own backyard."
Dead gum at sunset,
Campania, Tasmania
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