Not The Outdoor Type...... well... may be kind of.

I was FOR SURE a 90s girl.  I loved alllll things grunge - boys with long, flowy hair and a grudge against  the yuppie world.  Angry guitars and flannel shirts..... 

Oh swoon... flannel shirts.

I was, sad to admit, staunchly rooted in my love for allll things Pearl Jam and as such turned my nose up (circa 1992) to Nirvana at the time:  loyal only to Eddie.  

My senior year BFF, Miss Courtney were completely and totally obsessed with Evan Dando and Juliana Hatfield.  We would sit for hours listening to The Lemonheads album.... I was pretty sure there wasn't any prettier human on the planet than Evan Dando.  I'm still sure of that, actually.

By far my favorite song is actually a cover song that they do a Tom Morgan, from the band SMUDGE, song called:  I Lied About Being The Outdoor Type.

Always had a roof above me 
Always paid the rent 
But I've never set foot inside a tent 
Can't build a fire to save my life 
I lied about being the outdoor type 

I've never slept out underneath the stars, 
The closest that I came to that was one time my car 
Broke down for an hour in the suburbs at night 
I lied about being the outdoor type. 

Too scared to let you know you knew what you were looking for 
I lied until I fit the bill God bless the great indoors 
I lied about being the outdoor type 
I've never owned a sleeping bag let alone a mountain bike 

I can't go away with you on a rock climbing weekend 
What if somethings on tv and it's never shown again 
Its just as well I'm not invited I'm afraid of heights 
I lied about being the outdoor type 

Never learned to swim can't grow a beard or even fight 
I lied about being the outdoor type

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I have to admit, even born in the valley of Mt. Rainier, I was never one for doing much outdoors.  I'm not a fan of being wet (stupid Northwest rain), nor am I fan of sweating or bugs or dirt or tents or hiking really really really long ways just to sweat and struggle with a tent that has directions that were written by someone who *wasn't* good enough to write assembly directions for IKEA.  

Sigh.

I don't like eating food that I'm not entirely sure remained cool enough to stave off salmonella in that heavy ass cooler thingy.... because the only thing I want to do *less* than sleep on the ground is sh*t in the woods.... oh - except for having food poisoning or diarrhea in the woods.  

Nope... not a dream.  Not something I want to do.  Not now.  Not ever.  

I am firmly rooted in the opinion that bears eat people, dingos eat babies and generally speaking, seeing as how I have sh*t for luck.... the woods is *not* a place I should ever be.

And then...... Someone came along who really really really likes the outdoors.

Dammit.

They have a collection of tents in various sizes, sleeping bags that don't have Disney characters emblazoned on them, funny looking pots and pans and a strange looking thing that they *promise* is "just like" a stove.... which I somehow highly doubt...... they have a collection of flashlights in various sizes and colors:  a confectionery of lighted safety.

Yeah.

Were it *not* for their amazing personality and fantastic collection of those magical flannels.... 

damn sexy flannels.

sigh.

......... I would have more willpower to resist.

So..... I *tried* to tell them I don't camp.... but then that's not the truth, the truth is that thus far in my 38 years of life I have never actually *been* camping.... so I can't actually say I don't like to do it.... Someone was quick to point this distinction out.

dammit.

Then I tired to explain that I can't lite a fire.... or at least not one with funny shaped rocks.... Someone said that's not a problem because they can.

double dammit.

I then changed track to address my lack of any kind of camping gear save for a Columbia jacket, gloves from the Dollar Store and a knitted hat The Bubbie made for me.... and Someone opened up double truck doors to reveal enough assorted flavors of tents and blankets and foamy roll things that would make any homeless person jump for joy.....

Feck.... I give up.

So on Saturday..... after a very long, long drive to Southern Oregon, a certain Someone's very large truck with the double doors made it's slow and cautious way up a long and very rocky and windy logging road to a .... what had to have been one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.  

It was stunning.

Foamy things and blankets were rolled out, a fire was started, and a picnic was set up.... oh - and Someone's dog Luke ran circles joy around us...... That's Luke in the picture - I call him 'my new boyfriend' - Luke the Dog... not the Someone. :)

There was no TV.

There were no movies.

There was no roof above me..... and while I will forever be loyal to Evan and his flowing locks of amazingness.... I have to admit:  I really liked it.

My new converse got dirty.... but I just brushed it off.

That foamy thing made sure that rocks didn't dig into me when we sat down (damn that thing is handy!).

The view was better than anything I could seen on any screen..... and more importantly, the company was .... amazing.  Funny and sweet and kind and strong and .... well... kind of great.

Really, really great.

My inner 90s girl is currently stomping her best Doc Martens 18 whole boot and refusing to enjoy this... but 38 year old me is thinking that Someone might actually get their way and turn this girl into an Outdoor Type after all......

Sorry Evan....... 

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