We are the only thing more fickle than the weather. Our skis are too narrow for the deep snow, too fat for the bumps. The trails are too muddy for the bike. The forecast is questionable; we’re not sure about camping. The rain is here, and gone is the motivation for that walk or run.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, weather is always an opportunity or an excuse. It took my wife and me most of our first year here to get past what the weather was doing here in the city to realize that no matter what, it was almost always better, and worth it, if we just headed straight up into the mountains instead of making that extra coffee or round of waffles.

And for a while it got easier. We planned trips around good looking windows of opportunity, and then we went regardless when they evaporated. We scored a lot of dawn patrols in good conditions, and wound up with a few night skiing trips forgettable for the conditions, but never for the company. We took right turns instead of left on a whim, and followed springtime roads east to the sunshine when in doubt.

Then we had a kid. An amazing, wonderful little personality that changed me, and changed us. Our adaptability transitioned right into many other aspects of raising our daughter, but it seemed to evaporate out of our outdoor spirit. It took longer to get going on each morning, and when we did, we worried that it might be a little too cold, or that the rains might start on that walk. Eventually, like our first year in the PNW, that too eased. We relaxed as she smiled, baselayer-clad with rosy cheeks after a walk on skis. We walked in the rain, and went out with her to play and splash.

It struck me one afternoon, as I wandered a circuitous route home from lunch with my girls. My wife headed out to run errands, and I started walking with my daughter, still a little baby in the stroller. We walked for almost three hours before getting home, through neighborhoods and deserted paths along Puget Sound. Storm clouds swept in and out, and rains fell, though hardly felt through a canopy of trees along the way. When you’re inside, or have the option to be, we worry so much more about the weather. Walking as the squalls rolled through was a great reminder that when you’re outside, the weather just is.