My wife might tell you that running in our neighborhood is an adventure. She's not wrong. It's not uncommon to be chased by dogs; she's been bit and has the scars to prove it. There's an old abandoned textile mill riddled with bullet holes across the street and we've seen the S.W.A.T. team on our block more than once. (Google how often "no-knock warrant" and other S.W.A.T. raids enter the wrong home.) Running in our neighborhood is exciting and even occasionally hazardous.
My friends would tell you that raising children is an adventure. It seems like it. I've been around my nieces and nephew enough to know that their first steps, that first word, or the meltdown in a grocery store aisle certainly feel adventurous. But that isn't what we think about when we think about the word "adventure." I mean, there are not a lot of National Geographic cover stories on dropping off your kid for the first day of kindergarten. And don't expect an American Alpine Club grant for running around the block.
“Real adventure is defined best as a journey from which you may not come back alive, and certainly not as the same person.” -- Yvon Chouinard, Let My People Go Surfing: The Education of a Reluctant Businessman (2005)
I love Yvon Chouinard. I love Patagonia. I wish I could afford it. But this definition excludes a lot of adventure. For one, I try to mitigate not coming back alive as much as possible. Given the choice between hiking off the top of a climb and rappeling, I choose to hike every time. For that matter, you're more likely to die riding your bike to the grocery store in this country than you are climbing El Capitan. So living in a city with inadequate bicycle infrastructure, which is most American cities, basically means you're Alex Honnold. Except nobody actually thinks that, so this definition of adventure is insufficient.
I started thinking critically, or thinking at all, about the word "adventure" in 2010 or 2011 when I watched 180° South. There's a line, also from Yvon Chouinard, that lodged its way into my brain and has managed to stay there for over a decade.
"The word 'adventure' has just gotten overused. For me, adventure is when everything goes wrong. That's when the adventure starts." -- Yvon Chouinard, 180 South (2010)
There's something admirably laconic about Mr. Chouinard. And it's true! I didn't think about leading youth backpacking trips as "adventure." Other than interpersonal relationships with the campers, it was pretty mechanistic. Water source here. High camp there. Summit before noon. Et cetera. But then there was that one week on trail when a mama bear and her two cubs woke us up in our low camp; and a kid went to the bathroom without a buddy, got lost, cliffed out, and cheese grated down a twenty-five-foot slab of Rocky Mountain granite; and we called off our summit attempt due to snow, and after we turned around, a different kid slipped and I had to glissade to his rescue. That week was an adventure.
I may not have thought about those trips as an adventure, but those kids sure did. Most of them came from the flatlands of America to sleep outside and climb to the tops of mountains for the first time in their lives. Every week was an adventure for them.
"I came to the conclusion that adventure is different for everyone. Just as climbing Everest is an adventure to a seasoned mountaineer, a baby’s first steps are adventurous for both a child and her parents. Both are new, exciting, and daring acts. Between staying at home on the couch and full-blown expeditions, there is a wide spectrum of adventure." -- Joey Homes, "Defining Adventure: Thoughts From Biking in Wales," Outdoor Women's Alliance
Now we're getting somewhere! Adventure is a matter of perspective relative to experience. Adventure can be climbing a big, airy, exposed arete and running in a neighborhood that some of your friends don't want to visit after dark. Adventure isn't a clearly defined category but a spectrum to be explored.
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"Gunsight to South Peak Direct," Seneca Rocks, WV
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[Insert hard segue into exploring "adventure" from perspectives other than your own.] Malik Martin has shared summits with Conrad Anker, Manoah Ainnu, and Jimmy Chin. He's also the videographer behind Black Ice, a short film about Memphis-based rock climbers ice climbing in Montana. I stumbled across this Instagram post from Malik a few months back and saved it."I’ve been on a few expeditions where the journey to the summit gets extremely dangerous and not fun. I often tell my mentors that if I wanted to risk my life I’ll drive my car without a license or walk around the suburbs... Being black in the outdoors is an unnecessary experience that I want to extend to my people and my peers." -- Malik Martin, @malikethamartian, Instagram (May 20, 2021)
That'll make us rethink Chouinard's definition from Let My People Go Surfing.
"Adventure," as we so often think of it in National Geographic or Patagonia catalogs, is unnecessary; a product of leisure afforded by relative privilege. Everybody deserves leisure. "Bread for all, and roses too," the old labor movement sang. Everybody deserves adventure, whether it's riding your bike somewhere to make coffee, backpacking with a group of inner-city teens, or climbing a really big mountain, even if it's just really big to you. And everybody deserves to stay home on the couch as well because watching t.v. rules.
What's your (definition of) adventure?
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