I have 2 Condoms...
Before leaving for my hike on the West Coast Trail, a friend of mine purchased her kiddo a Costco-sized box of condoms as part of their university prep kit. Her kiddo generously gave me two and suggested I bring them on my trek because, as they put it, “You never know.”
Oh, I knew. But I thought I’d humour them. After all, who was I to argue with such sound… protection advice?
As I prepared for the trek, I packed the two condoms and tucked them into my carry-on luggage so they wouldn’t have to suffer the deep freeze of the airplane’s underbelly. Little did I realize that these two little rubbers would become the unofficial mascots of our West Coast Trail adventure.
They quickly became our go-to one-liner, much like the ever-popular “That’s what she said” after someone inadvertently offers up a double entendre. They also became regular photo props, with the occasional, “Hey, Jenni, take a picture here!”
Honestly, the number of photos these two condoms appeared in would make you think they were the stars of the trek. Move over, breathtaking coastal views. Step aside, old-growth forests. We had condoms to photograph.
But these two little guys did more than provide endless entertainment. They brought people together in some surprisingly fun and interesting ways. I’m not sure this is what the folks at Durex had in mind when they designed their product, but perhaps they should consider adding “excellent conversation starter” to the packaging.
Every so often, one of us would casually drop a “I have two condoms” or “She has two condoms” into a conversation. Naturally, this would raise a few eyebrows and prompt people to ask for more information about these alleged condoms. And so, a conversation would begin.
A little help… and a little oversharing
At one point on the trail, one of my friends needed some help climbing down from a rather high ledge when a very handsome man appeared from around the corner. I asked him if he could give my friend a hand and then, because apparently I have no filter when armed with prophylactics, jokingly added, “I have two condoms.”
He looked understandably surprised, so I quickly explained that it was an inside joke.
Thankfully, the conversation didn’t end there. We chatted briefly about the trail and where we were all from, had a few laughs, and went on our way.
A perfectly pleasant encounter, all thanks to two condoms and my questionable conversational skills.
Apparently, condoms are mid?
One of the more memorable encounters involved a group of younger lads we had bumped into at a few campsites along the trail. They were an entertaining bunch, to say the least. These were the guys trekking with seven pounds of butter and who had purchased all their gear on Temu. I’m still not entirely sure whether they were preparing for a multi-day hike or opening a remote bakery.
At one campsite, we got talking about water. Since we were relying on various rivers and streams to meet our H₂O needs, we suggested filtering the water and then treating it with purification tablets. They didn’t have any tablets, so I offered them some of my extras.
Then, naturally, I added, “I also have two condoms if you need them!”
Cue curiosity and laughter, followed by the response:
“Oh, we don’t use those.”
Excuse me. WHAT?!
As a mom of young adults, I was both concerned and curious. What exactly did they mean by they don’t use those?
They explained that, in their experience, condoms weren’t something their generation seemed to use very often.
I was genuinely shocked. Weren’t they worried about sexually transmitted infections or pregnancy?
Apparently not. The response was essentially that they relied on the pull-out method, or that the woman would take care of the pregnancy part. As for STIs? They didn’t really think about them.
I’m sorry… WHAT?!
And so began a lengthy discussion about how differently our generations approach sex and contraception. Those of us who grew up during the AIDS/HIV epidemic had a very different experience. The risks were drilled into us. Safe sex was a serious conversation, and the fear of contracting HIV or another STI was very real. If you were anything like me, you also had the fear of teenage pregnancy pushed so deeply into your brain that the thought of unprotected sex was enough to make you say, “Forget it!”
I’ve since had similar conversations with other young people, and the responses have been surprising. Some say they don’t have penetrative sex; others admit they simply don’t use condoms.
I find this genuinely concerning. Condoms might not be the most romantic accessory in the bedroom, but neither are an STI, an unexpected pregnancy, or an awkward conversation with your doctor.
Perhaps my two little trail companions had a more important job than I initially realized.
The Crab Shack: Where condoms bring people together
On our final afternoon, we stopped at the ever-famous Crab Shack, where we had spent the night. I decided it was the perfect opportunity to photograph my two condoms on the docked ferry boat.
Because, of course, that’s what one does on a hiking trip. Other people take photos of the scenery. I was documenting latex on a ferry.
A group of hikers was having lunch nearby, and, predictably, someone asked, “What have you got there?”
And so began the story of the two condoms.
Laughter followed, along with some great conversation with a group of guys from mainland BC and a couple who had lived in Ontario but now called somewhere near the BC Interior home.
New conversations. New connections. More laughs.
Connections: check!
Who knew contraception could be such an effective networking tool? Forget LinkedIn.
Apparently, all you need is a couple of condoms and a willingness to embarrass yourself in public.
Passing the torch… or the condom
The further along we got on the trail, our little group had become a group of five after joining up with a mother-and-daughter duo early in the trek. We got along like a house on fire and had a fantastic time together.
The daughter was newly single but not quite ready to start dating. I offered to break up my dynamic duo and give her one of my two condoms, just in case she eventually found herself in a situation where "you never know".
There was only one condition: she had to document the condom’s journey, just as I had documented its adventures so far.
She was absolutely up for the challenge.
And just like that, one of my two trusty companions was off on its next adventure. I wished it well. I mean, I’d grown rather attached to the little guy.
The following morning, after coming off the trail, we stopped for breakfast at what appeared to be the town’s gas station, corner store, diner, and general hub of civilization all rolled into one. While we ate, we chatted with two women who were just about to start the trail.
Naturally, I told them the story of my two condoms and their adventures. I also mentioned my friend’s daughter and the challenge to document their travels.
Then I offered them my last condom.
Because, you know… you never know.
They accepted it as a just-in-case travel companion and were also happy to take on the challenge.
I was officially down to zero condoms, but my work here was done.
The reunion
Sure enough, the next day I received a text message from the women. The two condoms had been reunited, and new friendships had been formed!
Apparently, the women had walked into the same campsite at the same time and started chatting before the condoms made their grand entrance.
I can only imagine the moment of recognition.
“Wait a minute… is that the condom?”
“THE condom!”
And just like that, the circle of life was complete. Well, the circle of latex, anyway.
The moral of the story?
Those two condoms had quite the journey. They travelled by airplane, hiked the West Coast Trail, posed for countless photographs, sparked conversations about sex and safe practices, helped strangers connect, and even managed a reunion worthy of a Hallmark movie.
They certainly weren’t used for their intended purpose (yet), but perhaps they fulfilled another one: bringing people together.
Sometimes all it takes to make a connection is a shared experience, a little curiosity, and a willingness to laugh at something completely ridiculous.
So, thank you to my friend’s kiddo for the original gift, to everyone who played along, and, of course, to Durex.
You may want to rethink your marketing campaign, though. I have a few ideas for your next slogan:
Durex: Bringing People Together, One Awkward Conversation at a Time.
Or perhaps:
Durex: You Never Know.
Although, after this adventure, I think we can safely say that sometimes you do know.
And sometimes, two condoms are just two condoms… until they become the stars of a hiking trip.
The end.
(For now. I hear there may be photographic evidence of their continuing adventures.) #ihave2condoms
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