Did you have an "OUTDOOR UPBRINGING" ?


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The Granite State.
Jul 17, 2011 - 02:36pm PT
I did.

This is my Grandpa, he was the co-founder of Sugarbush. It's a ski area in Vermont. He did this after his time in the Tenth Mountain Division in WWII.

This is me at 12. My Grandpa took me to France every summer to train for ski racing. It worked, and I did well at ski racing.

This is my Dad. In this picture we were backpacking, 15 years ago.

Another picture I took of the old man.

And a final one. On Mt Jefferson in NH, BITD.


Jan 31, 2013 - 01:45pm PT
Who is your Grandpa? My Grandfather was also in the Tenth, and from Vermont.

Boulder climber
Somewhere on 395
Jan 31, 2013 - 04:25pm PT
the family used to take road trips to visit relatives in Missouri, and Colorado, but didn't really take up the outdoor lifestyle until a senior in high school.

Boulder climber
Jan 31, 2013 - 04:31pm PT
Beyond car camping a few times, I really only started getting out in the woods during a brief stint with the boyscouts.

I love seeing TRs and such with parents and kids getting out and doing some multipitch route together, or rafting down a river, etc.

Bigtime jealous - I hope you guys that had it like that realize and are thankful.

Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
Jan 31, 2013 - 04:33pm PT
Always played outdoors....team sports etc, also Huck Finned it building tree houses and fishing for crappies and bass. Went to boy scout camp in the Poconos, but no National Park visits or backpack trips in the wilderness.

Social climber
An Oil Field
Jan 31, 2013 - 05:29pm PT
I have spent my entire life outside, except lately, when I am more and more attached to my computer.

That's OK. I just bought a sailboat, and NOBODY is invited. Except people who can teach me.

I just like being alone these days.

The Granite State.
Jan 31, 2013 - 05:45pm PT
Sbailey2, my grandpa was Edgerton (Tony) Hyde. He was in Italy in the Tenth during the war. Purple Heart and all that. Sadly, he passed away almost a year ago. He is missed.

This is his medal for being inducted into the VT skiing hall of fame,

Like Pate wrote upthread, I can't remember not skiing. My Dad and Grandpa strapped plastic skis on me when I was eighteen months old. It was all downhill from there. HA!

Climbing came along when I was about twelve and as a skinny little ski racer, it was only natural that I climb. My dad was my constant belay slave for years, even though he didn't want to climb.

Trad climber
lost, far away from Poland
Jan 31, 2013 - 05:51pm PT
After I turned seven I spent every summer in camps for children and then for teenagers. The camps were located in forests, often by a lake, or by the sea. A couple of times we went to the mountains. I loved it! If I didn't have a family I would be most likely a dirtbag.


El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
Topic Author's Reply - Jan 31, 2013 - 06:53pm PT
So I started this thread a couple of years ago when I was going through my Dad's old slides.
Well they were sent off to Mumbai, or somewhere, and for Christmas my brother burned discs of all the scans.

What a treasure of memories and once again I'm reminded of why I grew up to love the desert, the ocean, Mexico, rock, the Southwest, camping, getting dirty, ancient cultures, and...especially my Mom.

Here's just some of the thousand or more images I've been drifting through.

Take your kids when you go. Instill in them a love and respect for the natural world. Let them get dirty, scared, scraped up, and happy.


Trad climber
Jan 31, 2013 - 06:56pm PT
Yep!!! I was one lucky kid.

Growing up, my brother and I spent every summer with my mom on the ocean in Maine while my dad worked and came up on weekends when he could. We used to have contests to see who could actually make it the whole summer without ever putting shoes on. There was no TV, and we had to learn to entertain ourselves when the fog would roll in for a week or more at a time. Seaweed and jellyfish fights! By the end of the summer we could run over the barnacle-covered rocks without drawing so much as a drop of blood. The rocks and tidal pools provided endless possibilities for exploration -- something new every turn of the tide. Fishing, swimming, lobster hauling (replenishing bait...bah!), caulking skiffs in the spring, reading buoys, weather, shoreline, tidal pull...

My parents put me on skis when I was four. I used to say that I'd rather ski than breathe. My favorite days on the mountain were the cold, windy ones because it meant no lines, more runs and lots of ice. On those days you could hear your own edges and just fly. I actually can't ski in powder. Sad, I know. Is it me, or are skis embarrassingly short these days?

My dad taught me how to sail and windsurf in those same Maine waters. We went backpacking in Baxter State Park when I was about 11 and climbed Mt. Katahdin -- my dad and uncle dragged me across Knife's Edge howling. (Before crossing my uncle told us about a Boy Scout that had fallen off the year before and had never been seen again...)

My grandpa taught me about respecting the ocean and always keeping your wits about you once you pushed off from the docks. We fished with block wood scraps and hand-tied lines and hooks. I can still clean a mean fish and make his famous fish chowder. He took us blueberry, raspberry and blackberry picking, showed us the Indian trails around town and told us endless stories. He took us to climb the best trees. He taught us how to use a jackknife, splice a rope and tie endless knots. Most importantly, he led by example. He never lost his temper, saw the best in everyone and always made sure we knew how to get ourselves out of trouble by always having a back-up plan in mind.

Lucky, lucky kid.


There's a point to this, right?
There's a point to this, right?
Credit: LilaBiene

El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
Topic Author's Reply - Jan 31, 2013 - 07:11pm PT

The Warbler

the edge of America
Jan 31, 2013 - 07:29pm PT
Awesome pics, jefe...

I grew up on the edge of what was wilderness, now urban sprawl, and learned a lot about nature and climbing by exploring every nook and cranny of every canyon and mesa I could walk to from my house.

About as soon as I could drive, I was doing the same thing in Yosemite

El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
Topic Author's Reply - Jan 31, 2013 - 07:39pm PT
Thanks Kevin.
What's cool is that when I look at my dad's photography I see a lot of my own "eye", my sense of composition, etc.
Even though he split when I was young, there's a lot of him in me.
And I have to thank him. Every weekend was a camping trip. My parents would pick me up from school on Friday with the rig packed and we'd be on the road.
They'd also pull me out of school for extended Mexico trips.
Todd Eastman

Bellingham, WA
Jan 31, 2013 - 08:06pm PT
... come home for dinner!

El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
Topic Author's Reply - Jan 31, 2013 - 08:21pm PT
Love your Mother

ron gomez

Trad climber
Jan 31, 2013 - 09:07pm PT
My Mom tells me, she had me in her stomach when she and my Daddyo camped on the Merced in Yosemite, 1958! That started it all for me there. I'm sure little did she know what they were starting!
east side underground

Hilton crk,ca
Jan 31, 2013 - 09:14pm PT
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground
Credit: east side underground

jefe " love your mother" f*#k ya.....mines been gone almost 30 yrs now

Jan 31, 2013 - 09:18pm PT
Yes and No... My parents would gather wild plants for food. Mom taught me how to pee outside when I was four during one of those wild plant escapades. I would work the soil since I could stand, we planted, learned what was poisonous and what was not. Watched my Dad tend the bee hives. He could do it without a suit. Bees didn't bother him while I sadly have always been allergic. I remember finding a snake in our backyard and my mother killing it with a hoe in one whack. Plus my brother and I played at the local creek pretending we were explorers/frontiersman. When we visited my grandmother in Greece, I would chase the goats, route find through the mountains, stay away from my uncle's mule, to watch out for his back legs since they could kill etc.

It wasn't camping, and yet it was wilder than what most folks grew up with.
Donald Thompson

Trad climber
Los Angeles,CA
Feb 1, 2013 - 01:40am PT
Not in the sense of living in the city and being taken camping per se.
My earliest experiences in the outdoors were , thankfully, of a varied nature, in many wonderful locales.
My dad was a career man in the Army. For 3 years we lived near Hanau, Germany. Nearby we're mysterious forests with flowing rivers where the mist would hang on the trees for days.
We hiked for hours in the forest, exploring, even though it was off-limits, but we found our hole in the fence.
Where the forest gave way to train tracks there sat a tiny little German village. We fantasized that Hansel and Gretel lived nearby. Magic.

In Kansas there was a large ,rarely used Army training area behind our house. Blizzards would rage for days to reveal a world of snow and ice when the sky would clear. We would hike in the snow and discover iced over streams where we could sled down their winding courses. In the spring tornados would move through, churning up the soil and uncovering a million ring-neck snakes. And then the fireflies...

In Monterey Bay we used to take our bikes and race down huge sand dunes around Sand City. We'd go out on boats and fish, or fish off the city pier all day. We also ventured into the hills behind Seaside, looking for the illusive junk bike dealer.

Big Wall climber
Seattle, WA
Feb 1, 2013 - 01:54am PT
Yeah, a crow shat on a log and sun hatched me. Is that outdoor enough for you?

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