what adventure means to me
Last week i wanted to write about adventuring, and what it means to me.
I think the trend started when my sister and i were children and our parents took us out on hikes, or more often just walks through parks and along beaches. My parents both liked outdoorsy stuff, so we were brought up that way too. Because walking around in nature is boring for children, both mom and dad - but especially dad - would make up stories as we went along. The stories would link things we saw around us to fairy tales and books we had read (or been read) as youngsters - The Hobbit, the Narnia series, Treasure Island, King Solomon's Mines, Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe, Arabian Nights, Ulysses and so on. For my sister and i growing up, walking along a beach meant the hope of finding buried treasure, and walking in the forest meant visiting the home of naiads and dryads.
This went on much longer than you would expect. Even in my teens i remember walking with mom and joking about some rocky outcrop being where the sirens would sing, luring less savvy sailors to their graves. My dad still today makes up stories everywhere he goes, to the point it can be an annoyance to people who don't know him well, because sometimes he comes across as speaking authoritatively about a place when actually it's nonsense. He's started to get to the age i wonder if sometimes he believes his own tall tales. But, also, i kind of like that that's my heritage. Because i do the same thing when i travel, just as a way of entertaining myself.
I am not actually a big fan of fantasy as a grown-up. As a bookish teen i decided i liked science-fiction much more than fantasy, and that never changed. But i still have all that mythology - both ancient and relatively modern - ingrained in who i am. Those stories live on in my imagination and they provide a point of reference wherever i go. The world beyond my front door is the place where magic happens. A place where anything can happen.
And i think that's part of what makes a trip an adventure for me. The idea that anything can happen. It has to start when you step out the door, the secret door, the one that leads to the magical world.
Because when i go to work in the morning, that's not an adventure. I have elected not to have one. I know exactly where i am going and what i intend to do there. I might need to take a different road if there is construction, or eat something different than i normally would because my go-to spot is on break, but the journey is only ever going to be exactly what it is. It's the world at its least surprising. I can zone out, i can let my imagination run wild, but it's still just me, going to work, daydreaming.
Yet when i head out on the weekend, i feel it's frequently an adventure.
At first i thought that an adventure has to involve going somewhere i never went before, but that's not true. There are parks i remember visiting regularly as a kid which were always magical because we could go through that doorframe in the woods and end up in Narnia, or go under the tunnel and find ourselves in the Shire.
Then i thought that in order to have an adventure, you must bring supplies. Not serious survival supplies, of course, because then it would just be a normal camping trip. But whimsical supplies. It has to feel like you are the Famous Five going out on a picnic, only to unmask a frightful criminal along the way. But if i look in my little sack of goodies that i bring with me on adventures, it's all pretty utilitarian. Wallet. Longsleeve. Water bottle. Sun block. Toilet bag containing tissues, stand-to-pee device and a tiny spade. Harmonica. Okay, a harmonica is slightly whimsical. And that tiny spade could be used to dig up treasure. Perhaps.
Maybe an adventure requires adventuring clothes? And here, again, that does not mean tacticool military cosplay that survivalists like to think would see them through the apocalypse. It has to be a little bit ridiculous. Self-consciously so. Like my previous adventurer's footwear choice of bright red Adidas Superstars, which i wore out to the most impractical locations because they were my ruby fucking slippers. Or my current adventurer's gimmick of a cheap, worn-thin bandana, which of course always ends up tied around my head. Never mind the practicality of keeping hair out of my eyes and avoiding sunburn. It's piratical, and everyone knows pirates are fantastic adventurers.
But i also had adventures without bringing along any special kit, so that's not it either.
It is really about the intent, i think. It's about going somewhere - or going nowhere in particular - and just welcoming the experience as whatever it's going to be. Not having a particular plan, even if you do have a destination or route in mind. It's about leaving open the possibility of getting distracted. And following through on the distraction when it eventually appears. I was going to go here, but then i saw a cool little sign point that way, so i went there instead. I was going to climb a mountain, but then i found this nifty side road and now i'm halfway up the river instead. Sometimes you end up going exactly where you intended and experiencing nothing extraordinary, but in your mind perhaps an epic played out. Or perhaps not even that. So you didn't construct a fanciful story about the mysterious ruins when your phone died and left you without a wiki. Perhaps it was simply acknowledging the possibility of adventure that made it just that?
I don't know. I do know that i have been on plenty of hikes and bike rides and camping trips that didn't feel especially adventurous. Perhaps for me part of it is that i have to be alone. Nothing's really an adventure with other people. And yet... i am who i am today because of the adventures i went on with my parents growing up.
Perhaps an adventure must include discomfort? Do you need to go a bit further than your body can normally take you? Do you need to come back with sore feet and a sunburn? But what if you're just driving, is that allowed? Sometimes i think adventuring can only really be done under your steam - walking, pedaling, rowing... But i have friends like jenndolari who witness great adventures from behind the windscreen of an ordinary car. And when i sit on a bus and think about Paul Simon's famous ode to America, that's an adventure too. Although, to be fair, buses can include a fair amount of discomfort.
And then it takes me back to me, lying here on a mattress in front of my beaten-up Surface Pro. I've had adventures inside the four corners of this screen too. My favorite genre of computer game is literally called "adventure". Text adventure. Point-and-click adventure. Narrative adventure. I go in there and explore, and sure it's somebody else's scripted sandbox, but i'm still going in there to seek adventure. To experience something fantastical. To hear a new story. To be part of a story. Not to kill anyone, or win anything, but just to exist in a world that's rich and fun and great. Just like the world out there can be, if you let it.
I wonder, what makes something an adventure to you?
I think the trend started when my sister and i were children and our parents took us out on hikes, or more often just walks through parks and along beaches. My parents both liked outdoorsy stuff, so we were brought up that way too. Because walking around in nature is boring for children, both mom and dad - but especially dad - would make up stories as we went along. The stories would link things we saw around us to fairy tales and books we had read (or been read) as youngsters - The Hobbit, the Narnia series, Treasure Island, King Solomon's Mines, Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe, Arabian Nights, Ulysses and so on. For my sister and i growing up, walking along a beach meant the hope of finding buried treasure, and walking in the forest meant visiting the home of naiads and dryads.
This went on much longer than you would expect. Even in my teens i remember walking with mom and joking about some rocky outcrop being where the sirens would sing, luring less savvy sailors to their graves. My dad still today makes up stories everywhere he goes, to the point it can be an annoyance to people who don't know him well, because sometimes he comes across as speaking authoritatively about a place when actually it's nonsense. He's started to get to the age i wonder if sometimes he believes his own tall tales. But, also, i kind of like that that's my heritage. Because i do the same thing when i travel, just as a way of entertaining myself.
I am not actually a big fan of fantasy as a grown-up. As a bookish teen i decided i liked science-fiction much more than fantasy, and that never changed. But i still have all that mythology - both ancient and relatively modern - ingrained in who i am. Those stories live on in my imagination and they provide a point of reference wherever i go. The world beyond my front door is the place where magic happens. A place where anything can happen.
And i think that's part of what makes a trip an adventure for me. The idea that anything can happen. It has to start when you step out the door, the secret door, the one that leads to the magical world.
Because when i go to work in the morning, that's not an adventure. I have elected not to have one. I know exactly where i am going and what i intend to do there. I might need to take a different road if there is construction, or eat something different than i normally would because my go-to spot is on break, but the journey is only ever going to be exactly what it is. It's the world at its least surprising. I can zone out, i can let my imagination run wild, but it's still just me, going to work, daydreaming.
Yet when i head out on the weekend, i feel it's frequently an adventure.
At first i thought that an adventure has to involve going somewhere i never went before, but that's not true. There are parks i remember visiting regularly as a kid which were always magical because we could go through that doorframe in the woods and end up in Narnia, or go under the tunnel and find ourselves in the Shire.
Then i thought that in order to have an adventure, you must bring supplies. Not serious survival supplies, of course, because then it would just be a normal camping trip. But whimsical supplies. It has to feel like you are the Famous Five going out on a picnic, only to unmask a frightful criminal along the way. But if i look in my little sack of goodies that i bring with me on adventures, it's all pretty utilitarian. Wallet. Longsleeve. Water bottle. Sun block. Toilet bag containing tissues, stand-to-pee device and a tiny spade. Harmonica. Okay, a harmonica is slightly whimsical. And that tiny spade could be used to dig up treasure. Perhaps.
Maybe an adventure requires adventuring clothes? And here, again, that does not mean tacticool military cosplay that survivalists like to think would see them through the apocalypse. It has to be a little bit ridiculous. Self-consciously so. Like my previous adventurer's footwear choice of bright red Adidas Superstars, which i wore out to the most impractical locations because they were my ruby fucking slippers. Or my current adventurer's gimmick of a cheap, worn-thin bandana, which of course always ends up tied around my head. Never mind the practicality of keeping hair out of my eyes and avoiding sunburn. It's piratical, and everyone knows pirates are fantastic adventurers.
But i also had adventures without bringing along any special kit, so that's not it either.
It is really about the intent, i think. It's about going somewhere - or going nowhere in particular - and just welcoming the experience as whatever it's going to be. Not having a particular plan, even if you do have a destination or route in mind. It's about leaving open the possibility of getting distracted. And following through on the distraction when it eventually appears. I was going to go here, but then i saw a cool little sign point that way, so i went there instead. I was going to climb a mountain, but then i found this nifty side road and now i'm halfway up the river instead. Sometimes you end up going exactly where you intended and experiencing nothing extraordinary, but in your mind perhaps an epic played out. Or perhaps not even that. So you didn't construct a fanciful story about the mysterious ruins when your phone died and left you without a wiki. Perhaps it was simply acknowledging the possibility of adventure that made it just that?
I don't know. I do know that i have been on plenty of hikes and bike rides and camping trips that didn't feel especially adventurous. Perhaps for me part of it is that i have to be alone. Nothing's really an adventure with other people. And yet... i am who i am today because of the adventures i went on with my parents growing up.
Perhaps an adventure must include discomfort? Do you need to go a bit further than your body can normally take you? Do you need to come back with sore feet and a sunburn? But what if you're just driving, is that allowed? Sometimes i think adventuring can only really be done under your steam - walking, pedaling, rowing... But i have friends like jenndolari who witness great adventures from behind the windscreen of an ordinary car. And when i sit on a bus and think about Paul Simon's famous ode to America, that's an adventure too. Although, to be fair, buses can include a fair amount of discomfort.
And then it takes me back to me, lying here on a mattress in front of my beaten-up Surface Pro. I've had adventures inside the four corners of this screen too. My favorite genre of computer game is literally called "adventure". Text adventure. Point-and-click adventure. Narrative adventure. I go in there and explore, and sure it's somebody else's scripted sandbox, but i'm still going in there to seek adventure. To experience something fantastical. To hear a new story. To be part of a story. Not to kill anyone, or win anything, but just to exist in a world that's rich and fun and great. Just like the world out there can be, if you let it.
I wonder, what makes something an adventure to you?