Your guide to identifying common mountain men
By Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan
We reached the summit just as dawn was breaking, soft pink light illuminating the ski tracks we’d left behind. My legs were burning from the exertion of the climb, lungs stinging with every breath of chilled air. I’d never felt so gloriously alive. At this hour, this high up, we—my boyfriend and I—could have been the only two left on earth.
“This is amazing,” I whispered, drinking in mile after mile of rose-colored peaks.
“Incredible,” he nodded, the mountaintop wind gusting to expertly tousle his hair.
“Just tell me when you’re ready to head down,” I said before turning to strip the skins off my skis and watch the sun rise. When I looked back—oh my God—he was on one knee, eyes shining as he extended his mittened hand toward me. On his palm lay a small, baby blue box. My heart leapt …
Ha! Just kidding! Did you really think this installment of “Love on the Rocks,” my last for Women’s Adventure, could be wrapped up with such a convenient, romance-novel finale? The truth is, my boyfriend and I, after 18 months, remain blissfully untethered. There’s no melodramatic conflict tearing us apart: No one’s being sent to war; he didn’t turn out to have a secret wife in Texas. We can’t even claim a run-of-the-mill “whoops” pregnancy to lend a little drama to this last chapter.
Nope, we’re just having a grand old time doing what we do best: running, riding, skiing, and hiking our merry way into the sunset. It’s a far cry from where I started: When I first moved west, I was a mountain rookie nervously navigating the adventure-dating scene. Somehow I’ve joined the ranks of the happily coupled. But before you write me off as just another boring chick in looooove, remember this: I put down plenty of footprints on that winding trail from there to here. I’ve been scammed, fooled, left in the dust, brokenhearted, and caught in more than a few thunderstorms along the way.
But there’s an upside: I learned a whole lot about the men who populate our wilderness playgrounds. My parting gift to you ladies still traveling that winding trail toward love: a handy field guide to your male options, compiled from years of careful observation. Whether you want true love or just a few truly hilarious tales to tell the girls, the guy you’re looking for is out there somewhere—so get out your binoculars and start scoping your native habitat.
The Climber
Spot him: Harness, pointy shoes, low-slung prAna pants, sculpted back and shoulders
The upsides: He is focused, loves to travel, and is way chilled out.
Beware: Good chance he lives out of his van; he has a weird man-crush on Chris Sharma; chalk fingerprints on your black cocktail dress
Your opening line: “I’m looking for a ride to J-Tree … know anybody?”
The Triathlete
Spot him: BodyGlide, GU packets, exhausted expression
The upsides: He works hard to reach goals; he’s in it for the long haul.
Beware: 4 a.m. training sessions mean bedtime is 8 p.m. sharp.
Your opening line: “Got any pointers for a smooth bike-to-run transition?”
The Cyclist
Spot him: Spandex, clipless pedals, quads that eat 10 percent grades for breakfast
The upsides: He cooks great pasta dinners for pre-ride carb loading; he’ll save you a fortune on bike repair.
Beware: His legs are smoother than yours; he’s always demanding calf rubs
Your opening line: “Wanna draft me?”
The Backpacker
Spot him: Three-day beard, solo tent, tattered copy of Desert Solitaire
The upsides: He’s in touch with nature, loves animals, and won’t tease you about pooping in the woods.
Beware: Stinky polypro long underwear and even smellier socks; you might catch him weighing your toothbrush.
Your opening line: “Need any help hanging that bear bag?”
The Skiier
Spot him: Shovel, beacon, sweet backcountry setup, six-ski quiver
The upsides: He’s thrilling, skilled, and hucks like there’s no tomorrow.
Beware: He’ll be late to your wedding if it’s a powder day; he’s too cool to go in-bounds skiing with your little brother.
Your opening line: “Let’s earn some turns, brah.”
The Mountaineer
Spot him: Crampons, rope, steely-eyed determination to summit
The upsides: He’s a winner who won’t settle for anything less than the best; he’ll show you a whole new world above the clouds.
Beware: You’ll never be as sexy as the Eiger; high odds he’ll die on K2.
Your opening line: “I just got a screener for Touching the Void 2: Double the Pain.”
The Paddler
Spot him: Chaco tan lines, fresh-from-the creek hair, PFD, roof rack
The upsides: He’s sleek, swift, and has a way of whipping his wet locks out of his eyes just so.
Beware: He’s whacked his head against underwater rocks one too many times; get ready for many a date night spent watching kayak porn.
Your opening line: “Show me your Eskimo roll.”
[...] American Dudes Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan’s farewell column is a field guide to spotting Mr. Right: identifying traits and how to approach him safely. [...]