I have already discussed my wife’s love of Cracker Barrel restaurant.  (Post #233)  I took her there for brunch this morning, but we both stuck with the breakfast menu.  It’s the newest in the Cracker Barrel chain that just opened a month or so ago here in the Portland area.  She was particularly thrilled to find out that the have an app where you can put your name on the wait list before you arrive.  It would have come in handy today, since there was a half-hour wait for a table.  We sat outside in the sunshine, drinking root beer and waiting for our name to be called.  Right next door is a Cabela’s, another fast-growing chain of stores founded in 1961.  They specialize in hunting, fishing, boating, camping, shooting, and related outdoor recreation merchandise, so you see why I’ve had no need to visit one of their stores.

My wife needed to buy some groceries, so rather than sit alone doing nothing, I decided to venture inside this cavernous Cabela’s store to see what I might be missing in life.  There was a hunting lodge entrance with a massive stone fireplace and leather furniture, a wildlife display, large fresh-water fish tanks, a Grizzly Bear skeleton hidden in the darkness, and a snack bar in case I wanted to stay longer.  I walked quickly through the clothing section, feeling the chills of the great outdoors.  Directly ahead was fly fishing, tackle boxes, accessories and poles of all sizes.  I did not feel a single urge to touch any of this stuff.  Kayaks and small fishing boats were suspended overhead, boots filled an entire adjacent section, and camping gear occupied the front of the store.  I had just purchased a sleeping bag for my one-night snooze during Hood to Coast.  There were many elaborate styles that looked very comfortable until I pictured myself sleeping in a tent. Cooking gear, campground accessories, and even outdoor grills did not give me pause, since  I’ve never even owned a backpack.  I then turned left at fishing and went into a crouch as I passed by the bow and arrow section, and felt even more uncomfortable in the gun department.  It was so busy that they calling out numbers like Cracker Barrel for people waiting for service. They also had a secluded Gun Library where you could privately admire next firearm, or trade-in an old side kick.  I couldn’t get out of that section fast enough and was glad I wasn’t wearing camouflage.  There was plenty for purchase, along with beef jerky and other manly merchandise.  I could have gotten a Diet Coke at the snack bar, but had more than my share at Cracker Barrel.  In back of the store was the entrance to Tualatin Trail in case I was in the mood for a hike.  Instead, I just sat on a bench and waited for my wife, wondering how my recreational tastes were so different than the average Pacific Northwest human being.  I also couldn’t help but notice how many women were enjoying their afternoon at Cabela’s.

I’ve already written of my encounter with “The Hand,” while camping with the Boys Scouts (Post #150) .  My dad served in two wars, so he had little interest in spending another night in a tent.  My grandfather made fishing the most boring experience I’ve ever encountered.  I also clearly remember the unpleasant kick-back from a shot gun that injured my shoulder as a kid.  All these things account for my lack of fondness for weapons, camping, fishing, and hunting.  However, one of my more memorable experiences was at an event called the “Cast and Blast.”  It was a business outing put on by an Insurance company and sponsored by Cabela’s.  We spent the morning fishing for sturgeon on the Columbia River inlet, and the afternoon shooting skeet and other weapons.  We actually won the fishing contest, catching and releasing over 35 six-foot or longer sturgeon in four hours.  It was an amazing adventure, far overshadowing those quiet moments with grandpa.  However, in the afternoon I nearly shot my boss, when my high-end shotgun fell apart and misfired.  It left a scary thought in my head that had I been pointing that gun in any other direction, it could have led to a tragedy.  The manufacturer of that shotgun was on hand, and couldn’t have acted any faster, grabbing that gun and all the bolts that fell to the ground.  I could tell he was embarrassed at the performance of his product, but it was far from the emotions I was feeling.  I even liked my boss, so there was no need to kill him. We still laugh about that day, and have the pictures to prove our fish stories.

Needless to say, my cart was empty when I left Cabela’s this afternoon.  I guess I’ve saved a lot of money through the years on buying equipment for the great outdoors.  Guns and I will never get along.  My younger sister was into cowboys and guns when we were kids, while I didn’t even like to ride horses, or play outside for that matter.  She hunts, fishes, camps, and owns horses to this day.  I did shoot a bow-and-arrow at day camp one year, and even won some awards.  You notice that I only attended “day camp,” where I could go home and sleep in my own bed each night, rather than a cabin or tent.  I’ve also never owned a motorized boat, camper, or R.V.  These are the many reasons why I’m a loyal fan of Marriott Rewards Points and the Marriott Vacation Club, because it’s as far from camping as you can get.  I guess I’m just not a manly man, but my sister certainly is!