San Juans, Friends, My Son...
From Sunday until today ( Friday, July 27th ) I have been cycling hard in the San Juan islands with some old friends I get together with every summer (when I can) and this year, with my son Preston. The San Juan Islands are gorgeous . It is truly a group of inviting, quiet, pastoral islands set in a cool mediterranean climate. The guys I went with are people I have worked with at one point or they are friends or relatives of those people . I have been taking summer adventures with these middle-aged men for 10 years . In almost all of these trips some of our kids have been journeying with us. These are trips with some measure of risk involved. Our first trip was off the west coast of Vancouver Island paddling on the ocean in canoes to various islands off the coast. I took my daughter Meredith, who was nine at the time. She was terrified and wanted to go back to the shore, but as we reassured her, she began to notice the primeval beauty that surrounded us. We ended up on Vargas island where there was an endless stretch of white sand beach, dolphins, two other young daughters from some of the other guys and a turning point in my life. At one time , my generation of children ran free . In one sense , we lived at risk in adventures without the presence of our parents to watch us 24/7. That way has been lost...perhaps for all generations to come. I have often longed for some sense of risk and adventure for my children that would build a sense of awe, independence, and character. Somehow, these trips have garnered some important measure of that for those children . I realised on this trip for the first time that myself and one of my children will be taking these summer adventures as long as I am capable. 5 years ago my daughter Jillian went on one of these adventures with me in a double kayak throughout the broken island group off the west coast of Vancouver island . She was strangely quiet. My colleagues on the trip ( counsellors and educators among them) raised concern about what they observed. She came home and our family went through a time where we thought we would lose her. During that dark time, the relationship that had been created between us, father and daughter during our time kayaking together was in some part pivotal to her survival later on.
As I watched my 15 year old son this week cycle up a daunting set of hills towards a curving coastal road that would eventually take a drop towards the ocean , I felt a tremendous sense of pride that he was free to feel fully alive, and in his own eyes, to be a man. My friend Dave Derpak said it best over breakfast on the Victoria ferry after a 2 hour bike ride to get there today, " There is no replay on this time we have here , sometimes, because we are blessed or lucky , we get to do things that seem to put everything into perspective or back into balance again. "
From Sunday until today ( Friday, July 27th ) I have been cycling hard in the San Juan islands with some old friends I get together with every summer (when I can) and this year, with my son Preston. The San Juan Islands are gorgeous . It is truly a group of inviting, quiet, pastoral islands set in a cool mediterranean climate. The guys I went with are people I have worked with at one point or they are friends or relatives of those people . I have been taking summer adventures with these middle-aged men for 10 years . In almost all of these trips some of our kids have been journeying with us. These are trips with some measure of risk involved. Our first trip was off the west coast of Vancouver Island paddling on the ocean in canoes to various islands off the coast. I took my daughter Meredith, who was nine at the time. She was terrified and wanted to go back to the shore, but as we reassured her, she began to notice the primeval beauty that surrounded us. We ended up on Vargas island where there was an endless stretch of white sand beach, dolphins, two other young daughters from some of the other guys and a turning point in my life. At one time , my generation of children ran free . In one sense , we lived at risk in adventures without the presence of our parents to watch us 24/7. That way has been lost...perhaps for all generations to come. I have often longed for some sense of risk and adventure for my children that would build a sense of awe, independence, and character. Somehow, these trips have garnered some important measure of that for those children . I realised on this trip for the first time that myself and one of my children will be taking these summer adventures as long as I am capable. 5 years ago my daughter Jillian went on one of these adventures with me in a double kayak throughout the broken island group off the west coast of Vancouver island . She was strangely quiet. My colleagues on the trip ( counsellors and educators among them) raised concern about what they observed. She came home and our family went through a time where we thought we would lose her. During that dark time, the relationship that had been created between us, father and daughter during our time kayaking together was in some part pivotal to her survival later on.
As I watched my 15 year old son this week cycle up a daunting set of hills towards a curving coastal road that would eventually take a drop towards the ocean , I felt a tremendous sense of pride that he was free to feel fully alive, and in his own eyes, to be a man. My friend Dave Derpak said it best over breakfast on the Victoria ferry after a 2 hour bike ride to get there today, " There is no replay on this time we have here , sometimes, because we are blessed or lucky , we get to do things that seem to put everything into perspective or back into balance again. "
posted by mark at 7:30 PM
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