An Urban Boychick Takes on the Outdoors

Last weekend I went hiking with Ted at theBull Run Nature Conservancy. As usual, our hike had several purposes. Of course, there's the basic enjoyment of hiking. But Ted is also training for a week-long Scout backpacking trip in July and is trying to do as much hiking as possible in preparation. Needless to say, we were on the trail of a geocache as well. I had already found this one, but Ted hadn't. As we hiked, I decided to try out a mindfulness technique I had read about in the book "A Wild Faith". What you do is bring your concentration into the moment by focusing on various things, first in succession, then sharing your attention among them. The feel of the soles of your feet as you walk. The appearance of the forest around you. Your breath. I find I can maintain this combined focus for only brief periods, but during those periods I'm very much in the moment. Then the monkey mind kicks in again and I start to wander off into thought. Another thing about doin...

There’s a corner of my garden that’s wild. This little spot bursts forth with such savage lushness that walking through it one half expects to come face to face with a tiger. I must explain the peculiar fact the spot I’m describing is neither large nor remote. In fact the deepest depths of the savage corner are maybe six feet from the house. It’s just that the lay of the house and plantings have created an isolated tiny wilderness. To get there from the front of the house, go past the dogwood on the front lawn, turn left at the tea roses that flourish despite my neglect of them, and then squeeze between the sycamore and the boxwoods. As you emerge from the shrubs, you’ll find yourself in a spot so overgrown with so many plants it takes your breath away. Ivy, Virginia creeper, and thorny things and wild weeds I can’t even identify. It’s as if the local flora developed a master plan for the neighborhood and zoned this petite square to return to nature. A couple of times per year I go bac...

OK, I didn't bike to work on Bike to Work Day, but I had an excuse. Really. I biked to work on Tuesday, which was quite pleasant. I have finally settled on a favorite route and outside of some unpredictability due to construction in Tysons Corner (for example, about 50 feet of sidewalk disappeared between my morning and afternoon commutes), it's a pretty smooth ride. Then came the ride home. I made it through the traffic of Tysons with few problems, then the bumpiness of Gallows Road. When I reached the bike trail that takes me the rest of the way home, I breathed a sigh of relief. A little ways later I heard a sudden Bang , like a firecracker had gone off under my bike. I stopped immediately, and at first I thought it might have been a joke - maybe someone scattered those pressure-sensitive caps on the trail - since my front tire was fine. Then I realized my rear tire was massively blown. Hmmm, four miles from home. No one to call. Got the bike with me, plus laptop and clothes...

A choppy evening on the Potomac tonight. There was a steady wind, creating a continuous wave train. The waves were only about a foot peak to trough. This is high enough to be fun, but not at all out of control. We banged our way South and around the bend into Washington Channel. Then we turned around and surfed the waves back. Oh, how I have a love-hate relationship with surfing following waves. I hate the crazy out of control feeling of skidding as a wave picks up the back of the boat and makes it try to catch up with the front. Oh, how I love the feeling of riding a wave, paddling hard to keep on top of it, being propelled along faster and faster. We got off the water just in time. As we were loading our gear it started to rain, and lightning arrived soon thereafter. Washington Summer is on its way.

When the opportunity to take a master class with Dubside came up, I jumped on it. What was he going to teach? What were the details? It didn't matter. Dubside is one of the masters of traditional Greenland-style kayaking, one of the few Americans to have competed in the Kayak Championship competitions in Greenland. I mean, you really should see this guy do a Kinnguffik paarlallugu / nerfallaallugu (Greenlandic for "coming up on the other side, on one's back"). Plus, he's a little bit of a character - kind of like a mystical shaman of the kayaking world. He has no fixed address. He dresses all in black. Even his kayak and kayaking gear are black. He has the kind of long, wild beard one would expect a mystic to have. He doesn't own a car and so paddles a folding kayak, which he schleps around on public transportation. And of course, he has only one name ... Dubside . My kayaking pal Jen, who lives around the corner from me and I *for once* managed to coordin...