As the stories in this issue fell together from scattered corners of the globe, I found myself thinking often about a woman I knew when I was small.
She wore heels and flowing, hand-sewn skirts and pedaled a mountain bike (often at the same time); she inhaled a liter of diet Coke daily and served fruit salads for supper; she’d joined the military but despised conflict; she rode her Harley-Davidson Sportster to Fabricland; she used to skydive but gave it up after one too many close calls. She was self-taught and skilled in home construction, family law and Grade 12 algebra, although she never made a dime off building, lawyering or teaching. Her glamorous sensibility, her decadent frugality, her untrained discipline, her cautious recklessness, her stubborn open-mindedness, her clothes, her motorcycle—all of it captivated my impressionable young mind.
In an issue dedicated to mothers and grandmothers, daughters and sisters, it seemed only fitting that I dedicate this column to my own dear mom. She’s championed my adventures, even when I didn’t invite her; waited anxiously for SPOT signals with SAR on her speed dial; and when I became obsessed with a sport she had never tried, she didn’t mourn our cycling years—she bought a sea kayak.
When I was young, I thought her marvelous contradictions were hers alone. I attributed my own peculiar yens and conflicted tendencies to her whimsical influence.
Years later, I’ve come to the realization that we are both members of an equally enigmatic tribe. A tribe whose members, like quirky cottager Maureen Robertson (“Keepers of the Light”) and the adventurous spirits in “Water Women”, so often embody an extraordinary ordinariness. A tribe not bounded by borders, traditions, politics, race or religion. A tribe headstrong and heedless of so-called limitations: strength, size, resources, influence, experience.
Among us are pioneers and visionaries; artists and educators; nomads and migrants; leaders and supporters; idealists, advocates and ambassadors. We are both dreamers and doers. We have defied stereotypes—that we’d sooner confer than act; that compassion makes us weak, caution holds us back—and set records: first, fastest, youngest.
“What we most regret are not the errors we make, but the things we didn’t do.”
Why do we do it? Why travel around countries, continents and even the planet under our own power; why abandon the familiar in favor of the unknown; why face impossible challenges alone, with only our wits and will? The stories in this issue attempt to answer those questions, and hopefully inspire you to embrace your own apprehensive adventurousness.
“The only real security is…the ability to build your own fires and find your own peace,” advises Audrey Sutherland, who speaks with the wisdom of more than nine decades exploring our watery globe. “What we most regret are not the errors we make, but the things we didn’t do.”
“As you get older, you need not worry; your playful spirit will keep you young at heart.”
Recently, my mom shared her own advice: “As you get older, you need not worry; your playful spirit will keep you young at heart.” That nebulous quality, she said, is our true source of strength.
You cannot vote or buy or even earn your way into this tribe. You are born to it, as I count myself fortunate to have been. Its rewards—and its paradoxes—last a lifetime.
Adventure Kayak editor Virginia Marshall shamelessly apologizes to all those excluded from her tribe.
This article first appeared in the Spring 2015 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine and get 25 years of digital magazine archives including our legacy titles: Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots.
