My wife and I have always lived in the type 1 fun world, although there've been times when we may've had type 2 staring us in the face. But we aim for type 1, and my aim is true. Mostly. Over the years we've both been on trips of discovery, what we love, what we don't, and what we've learned. She's learned that despite my sometimes shaky aim, she'll always stick with me, but now there'll be canoe trip conditions.
I've never lived with this word before, conditions, so I guess it's another learning curve for me. These conditions are :
No deep water.
No big water.
No bumpy water.
No cold nights.
I must admit that the last couple of trips probably hastened her formulating those conditions, seeing as how we experienced all four. What I'd assumed was a jackpot of a teeny bit of envelope pushing was in fact to her absolutely terrifying. No amount of bigging up her confidence and congratulating her tripping ability changed anything. So I did what every thoughtful husband does...eventually. I listened to her. And learned.
Regardless of my promises of perfect aim in future she has feigned deafness and disinterest. That was until I started firming up plans for some base camp trips with the kids. I tossed around some routes and destinations over the phone, while she pretended to be aloof and bored, but I think she betrayed her interest when she muttered "Oh, I really liked that lake. We had a beautiful site there", and "That would be a nice trip."
I won't push things. I'll continue to make paddling plans without her, respecting her homebody plans. But I would really love to go on one more happy memorable canoe trip, and if it happens to be our last together, then at least I will have perfected my aim when it counted most.
I introduced my wife to canoe tripping in Killarney - including the 3K from Killarney Lake to Threenarrows, and then the Pig.
I horribly overestimated our capabilities on that trip. We were behind schedule the whole trip, beginning from a bad start. Looking back, we had a good time. She got to see otters frolicking in the morning sun. She still talks about that.
But she was
sick, starting from about day two. *I* was physically capable of it, but *she* was not. But because I begged and pleaded for her to come with me, she did. She does not hold it against me nor does it eliminate the possibility she will do such a trip with me again, but it sure set some limits. This was the trip on which I learned the value of always packing backup chicken noodle soup.
In my case, she's now fine with deep water and bumpy water. She has reservations about big water (as do I, but less than her), and so long as we plan for it, she's OK with cold nights. I get it. I too want to share my love of the wild with my wife.
See, she wants to share it with me. But it's not so easy for her. It seems to be easier for me. The bugs, the food, the climbing, the paddling... it all just seems to be
easier for me. But I think I understand you.
Plan your trips around your wife. It is better, in my opinion, to have someone like that with you and challenge yourself to provide a good trip, than it is to just... challenge yourself. If for no other reason, if the crap hits the fan, you will not be alone.
(And, those otherwise lonely nights with two adults in the middle of nowhere - they can be... fun)