Gretchen Steele: Remembering outdoor adventures that made us

I realize that Father’s Day will have come and gone by the time you read this, but it is Father’s Day when I sit down to pen my upcoming column on an early Sunday morning. My own father, a man of few words but immense wisdom, has been gone a very long time now, but I seem to be in a reflective mood.
It’s a familiar image, almost mythic: a father and child setting out into the great outdoors, a tackle box in one hand, a trail map in the other, and the quiet promise of discovery stretched ahead.

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