What I learned on my summer vacation… a simple fact that should’ve been apparent to me WAY before now…
I am my father’s daughter.
Aside from the fact that we are so alike mentally that sometimes it’s hard to communicate with one another (we’re much better at it now, thankyouverymuch!), we both like to be prepared. Evidence to support this fact? While hiking in Bryce Canyon I sported my Camelbak, while Dad adopted my Patagonia backpack to carry something like six bottles of water, our rain gear and a map. I also packed a pair sunglasses, which I never used.
We got smarter about hiking at elevation and in the Utah heat by the time we reached Capital Reef for our hike out to Hickman Bridge… Dad and I both donned similar, doofy hats in an effort to keep the sun from baking our faces to a crisp. He then proceeded to take these gel-scarf things out of the cooler where they’d been submerged in ice water, and wrap one around each of our necks. The gel holds the chill, and helps you to keep your temperature down when out under the hot sun. But you have to tie it around your neck like a dog that just came back from the groomer. The final result? Smart technology that looks really dorky. I mean truly… check me out! I look like the Steve Urkel of the hiking world.
Mom couldn’t believe that I didn’t truly realize I was a chip-off-the-old-Dad-block until this trip, but honestly? None of this should surprise me. In fact, here’s historical proof that all I’ve ever aspired to be in life is someone as cool as my Dad:
July 1992. I’m 13 years old. We were on a cross-country trip from MD to CA and back again, going along “the scenic route.” My hair isn’t short; it’s pulled back into a Pocahontas braid. I wore it like that for something like three years, because my hair was so long I didn’t know what else to do with it. And yes, I did finally retire those glasses. And those jeans. And that t-shirt. I haven’t retired my Dad (but he is, in fact, retired).