I spent a weekend with my girls camping and reaffirmed my belief that what girls want is to get out and do. Twenty five of us went to our neighborhood encampment with different agendas for the girls based on their age. My newly minted Juniors got in some archery action and my Cadettes headed up--as in they participated in a high ropes challenge course. I am not even sure there are words to describe the experience for them. They started their morning with some team-building activities and then took a break for lunch. Full of energy, they were eager for the afternoon, which promised to take them three stories into the air and back down via a zip line.

The instructors started with all the basic safety information and then walked the course, or rather the girls walked under the course. Then an instructor went up and demonstrated what the girls would be doing and what would happen if they fell. The safety harnesses ensured they would be safe at all times and the instructor dangled in mid-air to prove the point.

Then the girls were ready and my niece was the first in line and went up the ladder with a grin, transferred over to the embedded spikes for climbing and arrived at the first stop where she immediately looked panicked. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. The pictures show the fear that she battled across the log and halfway across the second part of the course, which was basically a tightrope walk, before her smile re-emerged. She managed a full recovery by the time she was halfway down the zip line.

Next up was my daughter, who I dubbed "the fearless" after watching her practically dance up the pole, across the log and wire, and on down the zip line. I am not sure how I raised a child who is so self-confident in her own body's abilities, but I am betting it has to do with being a gymnast and having a mother who has always let her try anything and everything. She can do things I never dreamed of attempting as a child.

I examined the remainder of my Cadettes and realized that those who had not raced to be first had definite apprehension if not fear on their faces. The four most athletic girls had lined up first and it was the last four who would need the most encouragement. One by one, though, they each ascended, negotiated the safety apparatus on their own, and made the crossings to the zip line before racing down on it.

Watching was exhilarating; I can only imagine what they all felt to have conquered their fears and taken the journey, together but ultimately alone.

So my plan for next year is to sign them up for the night-time course. The troop that did that adventure reported that the course looked like a winter wonderland set up with 400 glow sticks and that negotiating the climb was an experience they will never forget. Travelling downhill on the zip line in the dark was akin to flying for them in that they could not see the wires to which they were attached....

Now that, my friends, is what I call a journey, and we never once cracked a book.