Valerie Schultz: Having this hubby an expensive hobby in itself
| Wednesday, Jul 29 2009 06:05 PM
Last Updated Wednesday, Jul 29 2009 06:07 PM
My husband just got back from climbing Mount Whitney, a four-day expedition with a friend during which he was out of cell phone range and loving every minute of it. Perhaps the urge to get away from civilization is a male trait: I mean, I look forward to and benefit from times of solitude and reflection, but I do not want to drop off the face of the earth. And I definitely don't want to be unreachable by my children. I know that he feels he is a better man because of these periodic disappearances. So I smile, kiss him goodbye, and hope nothing majorly bad happens while he is gone. My husband is such an enthusiastic and eclectic person that I feel like a spoilsport asking the next question: Why do his hobbies have to be so expensive?
This latest interest in backpacking to extreme places fits my husband's well-known pattern. He expresses an interest in something and then embraces it, and its accoutrements, completely.
I should have known there was a pricey side to him back when we were dating. He worked part time during his college years for a salvage company in Texas, which bought unclaimed freight full of odd or damaged goods and sold them at a discount. I should have seen the future when he continually unearthed treasures while working, the cost of which was then automatically deducted from his paycheck. Thus when he was fascinated by photography, he found a sophisticated camera for a ridiculously cheap price. This was great, except that eventually his paycheck was almost smaller than if he had stayed home. I remember joking that soon he was going to have to pay his employer in order to go to work. Ah, youth.
But he took beautiful photographs with that camera. Of course, then he wanted to turn our only bathroom, early in our marriage, into a darkroom. You see, a true photographer, in those days, developed and printed his or her own work. And after the expense of equipment, supplies, and construction in the bathroom, he needed a better camera to justify the investment in a darkroom. And so it went. I have friends who are familiar with husbands who are just like this, and perhaps you are, too.
When my husband decided bike riding was a rewarding way to stay fit and sane, he again went all out in his commitment. He rode his bike everywhere. Not content to go for what I would consider a normal bike ride, he soon began riding in centuries, which are organized 100-mile bike rides through interesting places. Have I mentioned that he is an all-or-nothing kind of man? I don't even like to drive 100 miles in one day, let alone cover those miles with my own legs. Riding a century, of course, required very specialized equipment, starting (but not ending) with a cutting-edge kind of shorts, socks, shoes, jersey, and helmet. Then, he actually spent a summer riding his new, better bike across the United States, from Seattle to Washington, D.C., contributing to a fundraiser for the American Lung Association. I don't have to tell you that this heroic odyssey was not exactly a fundraiser for us.
Now the hiking. Hiking was supposed to be an activity that we were going to enjoy together as a couple, by which I thought we meant a calm, laid-back, underachieving, middle-aged couple. We bought some sturdy boots. We hiked some beautiful trails and spent hours of quality time together. I thought it was going well. Gradually, though, I noticed that our hikes were getting high-tech. We somehow owned hiking poles, lightweight pants with zip-away legs, fancy water-carrying backpacks, and a GPS device to help us with our horrible senses of direction. The next thing I knew, my husband thought it would be fun to go feral with a friend, carry 24 pounds of stuff on his back, hike into the back country where he'd have to protect his food in industrial canisters from hungry bears, and poop outdoors in holes. He mentioned that he thought it might be fantastic to hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail in his retirement. Did I want to join him? I don't think so. I'll wait for the movie. In the meantime, it seems to require a lot of funding to get your necessities for a week down to 24 pounds.
I wonder, must ambition go hand in hand with expense? I look at my own recreational habits: I am content to take the dog for a hike in the nearby hills. No new supplies are necessary for this. I don't want to flirt with my survival, especially if such a venture requires high-priced equipment. I'm unambitious, and I'm cheap.
My husband and I embody the precept that opposites attract. We bring to our marriage different foibles and failings, traits and talents, which seem after all to mix together pretty well. The bottom line is that I am proud of my husband's considerable accomplishments. I'm just not so crazy about the other bottom line.
