This was the first time my dad offered me his collection of hiking and backpacking books to read. I remember that most of them were engagingly, even humorously, written. I felt welcomed into a new world, where people argued good-naturedly about the merits of leather versus canvas boots; a realm where, even though sleeping bags were rejected for weighing extra ounces, serious campers accepted the weight of a camp stove rather than strip the forest of its natural deadwood.
Most meaningfully, I felt that I was entering a society in which my dad was already a member.
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