Caia Koopman created the art on these skis and snowboard from Rossignol. She's a lowbrow artist contracted by Oakley, Rossignol and a few gear makers to create signature designs, and as you can see her work is bold, assured, and whimsical. Much like the 4-year-old girl I raise, if I may inject that. You try getting her bathed, brushed, chilled out with a book and finally to bed and you'll see for yourself. I need a drink just thinking about it.
The line of Rossignol boards and skis is significant not just because of the fanciful feminine artwork . . .
In my day job, my customers are artisans. They're people, mostly men, who build custom furniture and cabinetry and other things out of hardwoods with their two hands and then sell them for far less money than they should because we live in an age in which consumers are so disconnected from the knowledge of how things are made to care much about the craft and sweat that goes unseen. I'm just as guilty here, but how many times have you thought, "40 bucks for that? There can't be any more than 10 bucks in the materials"? As if that's the end of the story.
If there's a story that hits the bulls eye so sharply as Dr. Seuss's Oh, The Places You'll Go, we have yet to know what it is. The good doctor gave us a wonderful tale that outlines precisely what to expect from life and it has tickled the hearts of many over the last 21 years since it's first printing. There's a reason why this book's sales spike every May, sending every graduate off into the world with a diploma and a copy of the pithy story that every last one of us identifies with. This time, a fella named Teddy Saunders wanted to do something special with the story. . .
Home is where the head is . . . oh, wait, that's not saying. But it could be the truth. If you're the sort of person, or if you know the sort of person, who can whittle hours away pouring over maps, these handmade Australian pillows might call out to you . . .
It may be that the only devils out there are the ones in costume. You know how they get when they've had too much candy.
While we all have some quirky neighbors—perhaps our neighbors believe we're the weird ones—it seems that on Halloween night they might not be lacing their candy with lye and rat poison or not even handing out razors and used hypodermic needles. Joel Best is a sociology professor from University of Delaware who's been researching the phenomenally generalized fear of tainted Halloween candy. He's studied news reports as far back as 1958, and though he's found some wild stories, the truth of the matter might surprise you. "No child has ever died or been seriously injured by contaminated Halloween treats," he says.
The forest road I picked out while combing the map at the kitchen table a week ahead of time looked like it would take us to a camp spot right above the West Fork of Oak Creek at about 6,700 feet under the pines and junipers. It always amazes me what a map will reveal. This time it showed tight bends and little space between the contour lines. Translate that to an abrupt and likely sublime view of the canyon below, one carved out of polished and peaceful sandstone and trimmed with the dying leaves of oaks and cottonwoods. The otherwise nondescript spot is down a long dirt road that eventually leads to nowhere resembling civilization. Sometimes this is a pretty good thing.
However, as everyone knows, you can't always get what you want. Then again, what is an outdoor adventure without a series of bummers to solve?
It's really our hope that this website can just speak for itself, but sometimes we feel like we owe to you to explain why we're here creating this blog. Now would be as good a time as any to outline the things that make AdventureParents.com what it is today. So when you come by for a visit, you can expect to find any of the following to provoke your thoughts . . . (read on)
If it were every little boy's dream to grow up to live on a ranch in Wyoming, the world might be a different place. But I don't know that for sure.
*** What is "The Sunday Morning Chillax?" Here's the idea. You're up early. You're enjoying a cup of coffee in the quiet morning while your kids sleep in. No need to read, this is always a video; something to give you happy, relaxing thoughts about mountains, fresh air, stoke, fun, or whatevs. Enjoy. Relax. You deserve it. Uh . . . except this is not guaranteed to be weekly. If only free could also mean consistent.
When another "Top 10 Best" feature in a magazine lands in my paws, I'm probably just as put off and pulled in as anybody with a moment of disdain and wonder: did my beloved _____ make the list? The perfect formula to spark your curiosity strokes both love and hate. We hate to see our little home town or favorite Sunday breakfast restaurant overused and under appreciated by the public but a part of us also loves to see recognition for the places, people and things that shape our personal lives. Right?
A mother and son get around on two wheels at University of Arizona
Progress comes in many forms, and it seems like more people riding bicycles is a reasonable sign of it. Michael Mckisson of TucsonVelo.com, who let us share this photo, just posted a report that bike commuting for 2010 in Tucson, Arizona saw an impressive resurgence by 58 percent from 1.9 percent in 2009 to 3 percent in 2010. This also moved Tucson to the 6th position on the list of top U.S. bicycle commuting cities . . .
One million homes in the Philippines without electricity are going to get a sweet surprise by 2012, if all goes to plan by MyShelter Foundation. If you watch this short video, which is quite moving and inspiring, you'll see a beautifully clever use for used plastic soda bottles.
Students at MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) designed and developed this solar bottle bulb. Turns out, it's also a small shining glimmer of hope for plastic trash as it becomes a channel of light for people who live a life with so little. While we should all be doing what we can to avoid products that come in single-use packaging, like bottled water and soda, however it's beautiful to see used plastic bottles being recycled in a fashion that makes a marked improvement on living conditions that the developed world would take for granted.
In a hut in Mexico just 4 months after the attack on September 11, we were treated to an unusual, but beautiful, display of humanity in the form of a home cooked meal.
I used to share an apartment near a small ridge of desert granite called South Mountain at the edge of Tempe and Phoenix, Arizona with my friend Tiamo when we were in our mid-twenties. He got the bigger bedroom, but I got the covered parking space. For a bed, I had a mattress that sat on the floor. When my clothes were clean they went in a pile in the closet. Then I stored my precious climbing gear in two clear 50-quart totes in the corner of my bedroom. I kept a lamp and an alarm clock radio on top of the totes. Ten years ago today the radio alarm clock went off, like it did every day, to the same FM morning radio show.
If you too are scratching your head at these recent hinting aromas of autumn, like school bus exhaust, and asking, "What happened to summer?" you and I are in the same boat. Unbelievable. School's back in session and we're already talking about fall break. I might live in the Sonoran Desert, but I also love the heat. And the long days of sunshine. So I hate to see the first signs that, indeed and like every year before, it's gonna go away.
There's a dad and daughter sitting on this patio across from me at the coffee shop. The girl might be 4 years old and has twin braids in her sand-brown hair. Blue shorts, yellow tank top, white velcro strap shoes with rainbows on the sides, and big chocolate-brown heart-melting eyes. She's a genuine cutie. She's eating Barnum's Animal Crackers and drinking iced water, too. Her dad looks young, and he's certainly not cut from a cookie cutter. He's wearing a pair of worn out Vans, faded denim shorts, a similarly faded flat cap and a chrome chain hangs . . .
My 4 year old daughter usurped my longest piece of climbing gear. It's a 30-foot piece of bright yellow tubular webbing that I used quite frequently for building anchors until I dedicated it to slacklining. But I have to admit rock climbing is one of the pursuits that I've accidentally abandoned, so I should be happy to see my little girl playing with my near-forgotten gear, tying it to the back of a hat, putting it on her head, and hearing her declare, "I'm Rapunzel, Papa! Pretend you're stuck. I'll save you!" Brooke and I used to spend more than one weekend a month climbing - er, more like hang dogging - somewhere. Climbing is a drug and you're easily addicted. Even though I haven't been in a long time, I will always enjoy the photography and stories . . .
The Wild & Scenic Film Festival could be coming to your town pretty soon. There's a good chance, too, that you and your family will love it. This is a touring version of the much larger festival that was held in California earlier this year that promised, and delivered, a beautiful selection of inspiring images and moving narratives promoting the protection of wild places. That's a cause we can all get behind.
Ultimate scenery, red Jeep, dented bumper. No wonder Nena Barlow is smiling. This is her office.
In a less discerning phase of my life known as "my late 20's to my early 30's," I was simultaneously a Jeep owner and a contributing editor for JPFreek Adventure Magazine. The magazine held the ground, and still does, as an adventure lifestyle publication that covers the not-so-odd mixture (and apparent subculture) of an active life and the fun of owning a Jeep. During those hazy days, my editor launched a column called "Jeep Jobs" and assigned it to me a few times. We'd locate professions, fields, departments, geeks and gophers who used Jeeps in their day jobs, interview them, and share the joy with the readers.
We found some rock stars out there. This one was one cool mom with a cool Jeep.
We're on the tail end of a tiling project at our house right now that's kept us locked in suburbia and indebted to Home Depot's foresight to build a store just a mile and some change from our front door. I've spent all hours of the clock on my knees lately. A good portion of spring has escaped, though I promised myself last summer that I'd abandon everything this April and May to spend weekends hiking and biking to locate and shoot my best blooming saguaro photo. Never happened. But not all is lost. I've mastered the caulk gun.
I remember the first day my dad removed the training wheels from my bike and launched me down the neighborhood road aimed right at the certain death he maintained was "just the cul-de-sac, son." I have to be honest and confess that I cried in terror. If only this little dude was my bud at the time. Watch and listen to how stoked this kid is to have learned to ride his bike.
Yes, this is the second Chillax today. In true style, you're getting this bonus track of The Sunday Morning Chillax because this video is all about bonus tracks - the kind you leave in the snow. 10" of the fluff fell on Teton Pass during a not-so-great winter. Wham. Choice snow practically overnight made for bonus tracks the next day for Dexter Rutecki. It's a super fun point-of-view ride.
Conrad Anker is well-spoken, pensive and admirable. He has both a gentility - the good kind - and a down-home g-droppin' drawl in his speech that suggests he's smart and friendly. He says in this video, ". . .the true frontier now is within. What are you gonna find out you can do? For myself and all of my friends, goin' out climbin' embodies all of that."
He's also an adoptive father to three boys and a husband - if you know the story of Alex Lowe's death in an avalanche in 1999, you probably know that part of his story. He's quoted by Metro Pulse, a Knoxville, Tennessee publication, about his climbing pursuits, “I have three children and a wife and I have to take care of them . . . So there’s always that—when someone else is depending on you, you always work a little more."
Watch this video from a series called, "Montana Stories."
We might not know the origins of the mighty unicycle, but there is no doubt whatsoever that we all get a little giggle and must stop to stare when we see someone riding one.
The American author Sloan Wilson wrote in his memoir, What Shall We Wear to this Party? The Man in The Gray Flannel Suit, 20 Years Before and After, "A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard."
Well, what says freedom like a unicycle? And I can imagine all the aid a unicycle brings to parenting:
"But Dad I want a bike!" "Start with this. You can have the second wheel when you earn it."
Or for that 16-year-old daughter who became a sweetie over night because she's dying to get her own Jetta:
"You get one speeding ticket, I'll take away the car, your phone, your bike. You can have a unicycle."
