Avoid a broken heart (and breaking his ego): learn to identify a posturing mountain man.
By Adam W. Chase
Why, pray tell, would a guy ever want to look faster, more rugged, or stronger than he is? It just sets him up to fail and breaks his inflated ego. Who does he think he’s fooling, anyway?
And yet it happens all the time, and we men, peacocks that we are, do it with fervor and panache. You know the city-guy type, the metrosexual, who embellishes himself with hair product and designer jeans. But many of my women friends complain about the athletic version: the guy who breaks in his Castelli chamois on a café stool instead of his bike saddle, whose Arc`teryx jacket won’t ever protect him from summit winds, and who avoids puddles to keep his Salomon trail shoes from getting muddy. He’s what I call a mountainsexual.
What are they thinking—that they’ll fool a trail goddess or snow bunny? That you can’t tell the difference between a six pack and a beer belly? The mountainsexual sets himself up for failure—in his high-altitude pursuits as much as his relationships—by building a false pretense of competence and achievement.
He’d be so much better off being honest. There are laid-back lady riders and madam mountaineers—all looking for men their speed. Mountainsexuals end up turning off both groups; the former judge him too hard-core and the latter see straight through his GPS-app dependence. He ends up a well-dressed disappointment, getting dropped on bike rides and under-achieving in his Under Armour.
To compound matters, the mountainsexual’s prowess with unsuspecting urban hotties inflates his own expectations of himself. Thanks to his sensitive ego and insecurity, he also has a bad attitude when it comes to getting chicked.
Aside from keeping an eye out for these frauds, I’ve got another piece of advice for you: Apply a little self-scrutiny and don’t lose sight of the image that you, yourself, are projecting in your Patagonia dress or your too-core cycling kit. One of the arts of womanhood is misleading men, and it’s especially easy when men see past your imperfections, labeling you a trail goddess or underestimating the toned arms of a one-time ballerina—who couldn’t climb a jungle gym much less a 5.9 crack. Keep in mind that mountainsexuality isn’t gender specific and it’s sometimes better to sandbag and impress us than it is to disappoint us with a powder-puff performance.
What to look for? Clues to Mountainsexuality
- No muscle tone, despite shaven legs
- No chalk marks on his climbing shorts
- Gear is new, sparkly, or totally matching (i.e., he’s not a pro, he’s a “proser”)
- Chain grease on his right leg or other amateur scars or marks
- A bike, skis, or kayak are permanently attached to a rack that matches his car
- He uses product, so his hair is always combed and never helmet-sweat–set.
- Leaves his race number, body markings, finisher’s medal, or race shirt on long after the event is over
- Carries his avalanche beacon but leaves behind his probe and shovel, or vice versa
Ask Adam a question by e-mailing info@womensadventuremagazine.com
