A “wanderer” is by my definition, a certain, specific type of skier. A “wanderer ” is also a wonderer. We incessantly ask: What’s the next slope like? Where does that trail lead? What’s the terrain on the next mountain over? Who skis there? What’s the guy’s story? What’s that gal’s favorite? A wanderer has to see what’s around the bend, meet different people, and make new friends.
Not that we’re in a rush. No! We just know that’s where we’re going, so it usually doesn’t matter when we get there. As a matter of fact, let’s enjoy the journey and relish each moment.
Note: a wanderer may explore the slopes today, but still wonders about the areas of tomorrow. What can be unearthed at this area? But just in pressing, equally wondrous, we ask, “What can be discovered at the next mountain – tomorrow?”
A wanderer accepts his foibles, recognizes hid shortfalls, adapts and overcomes.
A wanderer generally seeks to upgrade as well as move out. If there’s a better means or a way to improve, by gosh: DO IT! Long ago, in a not so distant galaxy, I was a member of the National Campers & Hikers Association. If I recall, their motto went something like this: “Leave a place better than you found it.” Now that’s wisdom! I take it to heart, and still try to put it in action.
We need not (perhaps shouldn’t) attempt to fundamentally transform our world. We’d be foolish to think we can. Let’s major in the minors like merely pick up some trash to dispose of it properly. Or maybe we can clear the way of low-hanging boughs or dead fall that endangers the next one following our tacks. When and if management agrees we can always raise a team of volunteers to officially prepare the way as a open trail. But that can be another story.
Now that leads me to modify a caveat I so often spout out, “It’s more effective to ask forgiveness that request permission.” Let’s add: “As long as we’re not disturbing others.” Let the marks we leave be for good, leading others forward to a more enjoyable, more pleasant place – toward a better world.
So a “wanderer” is the skier who loves to visit other area/resorts. Some people delight in working one area, and that’s fine too. There’s room for everyone. They stay anchored” approach is totally understandable for mothers, especially mothers of multiple children. They are the organizers; the baby-sitters, the sane and cautious protectors, the picnic dispensers and the picker-uppers that bundle and rewrap at the end of the day. These are the “anchored” ones.
Men are wired as hunters. explorers and risk-takers. We are the self-centered, “all-about-me”, restless fools that press onward in search of knowledge and excitement. Men are thick and oblivious in life, focusing less on security and safety; more on excitement, thrills and fun. Men are “just fine” with ground level motel rooms and outside entrances just steps from the parking lot. (Heck, we don’t even have to unpack. Just back the car up to the door and it’s just two steps to live out of the trunk!)
Men don’t mind skipping breakfast as long as we get a cup of coffee, especially when it saves more or allows us to secure :fresh tracks on dawn patrol. Men thrive on tail-gating après. Wow, it saves money for sure, but this is where the real characters congregate. These are the crazy ones.
Grant me this: I’m writing with a wry smile in an entertaining way. But I’ve found that in truth, women, even my wife, are adaptable, accommodating, patient, gentle and kind. Women are actually far tougher than the manner I portray. They are the true inner strength of our households and our country for that matter. We could ski as families without their participation.
My wife patiently and effectively nurtured our infants, engaged our toddlers, snowplowed our preschoolers, then enjoy only to ONE day of harmonious, blissful real skiing with the kids. The next day they started bombing the hill, in search of bumps, jumps, crags and crevasses leaving poor mom behind. Lonely and left-out, but much loved.
But now we’re grandparents, doing it all over again. only it’s better now. We’ve learned a little more. Life is a bit calmer. Equipment is far better. The kids pay their own way (and often even. cover some of our costs!)But most significantly when the kids are over-tired, hungry or whiney, we can just return ‘m to their parents.
Life is good. It can’t get much better. link to grand parenting posts
I’m a grandparent. I’m free. Come, Ski With Me!