A past

Before I was an anything, I was raised by my dad and godfather to be an outdoorsman. I hunted and I fished and drove a 4x4 to hunt and fish with the scratches on the side of the body as a badge of honor. I could load my own ammo and built my own shooting range. Until moving to Arizona, Mistress and I camped about twice a month in a secluded, private forest. I am not a desert camping fan.

I went to a very rural university for a few years and during the season my room mate and I would grab our 12 gauge shotguns after class and drive down the road a bit, shoot a pheasant or a rabbit and have it for dinner along with the ear of corn bought for a nickel on the side of the road and a potato from a 25 pound costing fifty cents.

All that said, I consider myself more a fisher, than a hunter, probably because the line between work and fun became blurred while I was in the infantry. When you keep an automatic rifle within arms reach for weeks at a time and your mission is to train others or yourself to engage the enemy, its hard to look at a day off as good day to go deer hunting.

As I got older, I seperated away from my outdoorsman mentors, my father and godfather, and went out on my own or with peers to increase my outdoorsman capacity. I had found rather than enjoying the experience, I missed their companionship. I truly believe that I was raised in a spirit of old school compassion for the outdoors, yet the people I attached myself too while fine chums in the urban sense, were terrible stewards of the environment and immature in their outdoorsmanship.

My mentors never failed to meet annually for a weekly fishing trip and I was lucky enough for many years to join them. We three have literally fished halfway around this big world. I always took from them the love of friendship and Shiny Things. Oh the Shiny Things.

Which really brings me to the nut of this post. In my current taper, I distract myself with some of the hobbys I had before triathlon, like outdoor and fishing gear. There may be no other hobby with more Shiny Things available than outdoor gear. Much like an ironman, I have a long term goal to complete a week long camping trip with a pack less than forty pounds, including food. I really think I can hit 35 pounds. Last year, my first high country trip in some time, my pack weighed closer to 75 pounds. With my Shiny Upgrades, and lots of mental mullings, (whatelse do you think I do on 5 hour bike rides and 2 mile swims) I am firmly in the low 50 pound range.

I hope next year I get the chance to test my theory. I have two triathlons scheduled in Mexico next year, (a sprint in Rocky Point 3 weeks after IMAZ and Cancun 70.3 in September) which won't be long trips, I hope to get a week or very long weekend in the summer to pack into the mountains somewhere.

I haven't really been putting my new outdoor Shiny Things on this blog, but if a few of you reply you would like reviews on new packs, flashlights and other assorted camp gear, let me know.