Adventure King
Mr. Fixer gets bored on the weekends. He thirsts for activity, thrills, adventure. He craves exploration and action and hell-bent-for-leather motion. Hiking, fishing, camping and other such outdoorsman activities are his preference.
I like reading, writing and napping. To me, adventure usually comes in the form of baking cookies which I then deliver to Mr. Fixer’s work place. I also enjoy the adventure of eating at Olive Garden or Outback Steakhouse.
I suppose opposites DO attract.
Having grown up in an activity-oriented family, my dear, darling husband has had a lifetime of summer camp-outs and winter ski trips. My camping experiences were limited to Summer camp on Tanglewood Island, just slightly northeast of Fox Island. Mr. Fixer spent multiple weekends, and occasionally weeks, camping with immediate family, extended family and friends. I spent six consecutive summers, each boasting a two-week session, at Camp Tanglewood.
Mr. Fixer’s family slept in tents and occasionally camp trailers. Tanglewood campers slept in bunk beds in the many cabins located on the small island. Mr. Fixer’s family cooked their own meals – many of which were caught from the lake. Tanglewood campers ate in the large meeting hall (which also played host to the staff dorms), from an honest-to-goodness, cafeteria-style kitchen. The husband swam in the lake, water skied and inner-tubed, trekked and hiked. Tanglewood campers swam in the swimming pool, learned to sail – sort of – and canoe and water ski – again, sort of.
The husband’s family roughed it by climbing trees, building camp fires, setting up tents and scouting campsites in advance in order to avoid rattle snakes. Tanglewood campers roughed it by climbing a ropes course which was rigged up in the meeting hall, making miniature cabins out of Popsicle sticks and playing gargantuan games of Capture the Flag – which required a lot of running and child-like shrieking. (I was NOT a fan of this game.)
Therefore, when Mr. Fixer suggests camping in the summer, I immediately query about the amenities of the cabin in which we would stay. When he suggests water skiing or inner-tubing, I’m thrown into a Post-Traumatic Stress-like fit of near-hysterics, because while many children learned to water ski at Camp Tanglewood, I learned how to be dragged behind the boat like a bobber on someone’s forgotten fishing line. When the love of my life suggests ice skating, I think of the two times I ever tried it. Both times I wobbled my way onto the ice, took two ungainly steps then fell down hard with my right leg bent up behind me in a frozen version of a sadomasochistic Yoga position.
There are some outdoor activities which I enjoy. Among these are fishing. Simply select a location which allows me to slide out of the truck, sit down in my chair at the water’s edge and toss my line into the water. When I get bored, I’ll pull out my notebook and write.
I used to enjoy hiking, long walks and hunting – which is a fancy way of saying “walk a long time but don’t actually see any game” – but since the wreck, I can’t do those things anymore. I like the concept of sledding down the hill, but I never actually learned how to steer, and I never enjoyed taking the sled back up to the top of the hill. I guess I could say that I’ve become an old fuddy-duddy in my middle age, but that would mean that there was a time in my life when I wasn’t an old fuddy-duddy.
The bottom line is that we need an activity that both Mr. Fixer and I can agree upon. So far, rock hounding and target shooting are the only solutions I’ve found. Both of these activities, however, require the use of the Jeep Eater which, unfortunately, is currently in pre-op waiting for her pinion bearing transplant. We’re expecting the call any day now.
Until next time…
D. S. Vic
© D. S. Vic. All rights reserved.
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