1. looking for adventure
1. LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.” Daniel Boone, American Frontiersman and Legendary Hero, 1734-1820 When people ask me what I want to do when I grow up, they usually just think I’m some nerd Star Trek fan after I tell them I want “to boldly go where no one has gone before.” Only I’m not talking about being the first human to step out on Mars or about timetraveling to some outer space fantasy land. I’m talking about having real adventure on this planet. Extreme, unusual stuff. Like hiking deep into the rain forest in search of endangered gorillas. Or descending in a submarine to the bottom of the Marianna’s trench to observe primordial creatures. Or shooting underwater photos of Mexico’s gigantic whale sharks. Ever since Aunt Maria gave me a subscription to National Geographic for my ninth birthday, I’ve been collecting ideas for all sorts of adventures around the globe. I am now up to 497 things I want to do before I turn twenty-one. Oh yeah, I have plenty of great ideas. But I haven’t gotten very far. Besides not being old enough to drive or leave the country without my parents’ consent, I am faced with at least one humongous roadblock. You see, I’m stuck growing up in Borene Park, landlocked by the 5 and 91 freeways in Orange County, California. How can a girl have any kind of adventure if she is trapped in suburbia her whole life? Here, a kid’s idea of thrills is riding a plastic tube into a chlorinated pool with bumper pads, or screaming down a roller coaster on a plastic snow-covered peak, complete with furry ice monsters. Genuine fake thrills. But I’d rather raft the real rapids, climb the actual Matterhorn in Switzerland, and encounter non-talking bears. So, when I saw a flyer for a teens’ backpacking trip this summer to the High Sierras at the rec center, you can understand why I got so geeked out about it. I grabbed two copies, and rode my bike straight over to my best friend Abby’s house. “Hey, Renée, what’s up?” she says, as I burst in the back door, waving the flyer. “Backpacking in the High Sierras. How cool is that?” I spit out. I start rattling off everything I know about hiking and camping in the wilderness, and how you have to carry everything you need for survival on your back. “There’s no room for any luxuries. One tin cup, a plate and a spork. Your sweatshirt doubles as your pillow. You can even cut your toothbrush
down to a nub to save an ounce of weight on your back. You have to plan and pack your food for every day on the trail, and bring emergency rations in case you get lost or hurt yourself…” “Kind of like Survivorman,” she butts in, but I’m still explaining. “Or, or… in case a marauding bear eats all your food. You sleep outside with only a skimpy nylon tent as a barrier from wolverines … and mountain lions … and bats and whatever other creepy crawlers lurk out there.” “Whoa, Renée. Let me see that flyer,” she says, grabbing it away from me. “It says it’s ‘only $499’ for ten days. ‘Hike over 11,000-foot-high passes, swim in glacial lakes, spot wildlife, sleep under the stars, meet cute guys…’” “Where does it say that?” I say, grabbing the flyer back. Abby beans me with her stuffed owl. “Well, it doesn’t exactly say that, but it’s open to teen boys and girls isn’t it? Anything can happen. We have to do this.” “So you think your parents will let you go?” “Heck yeah, my parents will love getting rid of me for a week.” “Yeah, pretty sure mine will be thrilled too. And, I’m also pretty sure I’ll be doing some babysitting to help pay for it.” When I ask my Mom for permission—and money—to take the trip, she’s actually excited for me. Ever since we moved here, she keeps bugging me about making friends. “Abby is a great friend,” I remind her. “Yes.” Mom sighs. “Maybe you’ll make some more new friends on your trip.” **** Abby plops herself on one of the twin beds in my room, stretching out with her hands behind her head. “My dad is so excited about our trip to the Sierras that I think he’d sign up if he could. He spent an hour telling me all about his first backpacking trip, hiking up the real Matterhorn when he was thirteen—same as us.” She pulls a slip of paper out of her pocket and waves it in front of me. “Look, he already gave me a check for the deposit.” “Cool! Let me ask my mom if she can write a check and sign my permission slip right now. We can bike to the rec center and get signed up, pronto!”
We run out to the kitchen where Mom is unloading the last of the week’s groceries. I put on my most charming face as I ask her for a check. She looks at Abby’s sweet face, then back at my devilish one, and nods. “A girl can always use a little adventure, right?” She writes the check and dangles it above my head, specifying a few conditions. “Glad to see you so excited about this trip. Hope you’ll help me out with that same smile when it’s time to do your chores.” “Okay, promise.” I smirk. A little bribery works for me. “Come on Abby, let’s go!” We jam on our bikes over to the rec center and give our checks and forms to the woman at the front desk. Scanning our info, she tells us, “There’s a mandatory pre-trip meeting on Thursday afternoon two weeks from today. You’ll meet your leaders and the other kids who’ve signed up—it looks like there are a dozen boys and girls from thirteen to sixteen years old.” “We’ll be there!” I say, barely containing my excitement. I nudge Abby with my elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we will meet some awesome new guys.” My best girlfriend gives me a thumbs’ up. “Bonus!”
down to a nub to save an ounce of weight on your back. You have to plan and pack your food for every day on the trail, and bring emergency rations in case you get lost or hurt yourself…” “Kind of like Survivorman,” she butts in, but I’m still explaining. “Or, or… in case a marauding bear eats all your food. You sleep outside with only a skimpy nylon tent as a barrier from wolverines … and mountain lions … and bats and whatever other creepy crawlers lurk out there.” “Whoa, Renée. Let me see that flyer,” she says, grabbing it away from me. “It says it’s ‘only $499’ for ten days. ‘Hike over 11,000-foot-high passes, swim in glacial lakes, spot wildlife, sleep under the stars, meet cute guys…’” “Where does it say that?” I say, grabbing the flyer back. Abby beans me with her stuffed owl. “Well, it doesn’t exactly say that, but it’s open to teen boys and girls isn’t it? Anything can happen. We have to do this.” “So you think your parents will let you go?” “Heck yeah, my parents will love getting rid of me for a week.” “Yeah, pretty sure mine will be thrilled too. And, I’m also pretty sure I’ll be doing some babysitting to help pay for it.” When I ask my Mom for permission—and money—to take the trip, she’s actually excited for me. Ever since we moved here, she keeps bugging me about making friends. “Abby is a great friend,” I remind her. “Yes.” Mom sighs. “Maybe you’ll make some more new friends on your trip.” **** Abby plops herself on one of the twin beds in my room, stretching out with her hands behind her head. “My dad is so excited about our trip to the Sierras that I think he’d sign up if he could. He spent an hour telling me all about his first backpacking trip, hiking up the real Matterhorn when he was thirteen—same as us.” She pulls a slip of paper out of her pocket and waves it in front of me. “Look, he already gave me a check for the deposit.” “Cool! Let me ask my mom if she can write a check and sign my permission slip right now. We can bike to the rec center and get signed up, pronto!”
We run out to the kitchen where Mom is unloading the last of the week’s groceries. I put on my most charming face as I ask her for a check. She looks at Abby’s sweet face, then back at my devilish one, and nods. “A girl can always use a little adventure, right?” She writes the check and dangles it above my head, specifying a few conditions. “Glad to see you so excited about this trip. Hope you’ll help me out with that same smile when it’s time to do your chores.” “Okay, promise.” I smirk. A little bribery works for me. “Come on Abby, let’s go!” We jam on our bikes over to the rec center and give our checks and forms to the woman at the front desk. Scanning our info, she tells us, “There’s a mandatory pre-trip meeting on Thursday afternoon two weeks from today. You’ll meet your leaders and the other kids who’ve signed up—it looks like there are a dozen boys and girls from thirteen to sixteen years old.” “We’ll be there!” I say, barely containing my excitement. I nudge Abby with my elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we will meet some awesome new guys.” My best girlfriend gives me a thumbs’ up. “Bonus!”
