I am a lover of the great indoors. Give me cable TV, a VCR, a decent stereo, a good book and a cordless phone, and I’m set for days.

So what possessed me to go down to the YMCA and sign my son, Terry, and me up for Indian Guides?

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That was the question I asked myself on our first camping trip. Hanging around the cabin Friday night was fun (I dominated the junk food competition), but I knew I had to ride that horse Saturday morning – the one thing I dreaded most.

At the stable, the wrangler asked if there were any novices in the group. I owned up to my inexperience.

“Got a horse named Old Blue?” I asked.

“Give him El Diablo,” one of the other dads chided.

“Yeah, or Whirlwind,” said another.

My son was a little scared and asked to ride with me. I somehow mounted our horse – Rawhide – without embarrassing myself. The wrangler lifted Terry up into the saddle and instructed us on how to get Rawhide to do what we wanted. I was skeptical.

We were barely out of the corral when Terry said: “Hey Dad, can you get your own horse? This is cool.”

It was cool.

I love being a dad. It’s really my favorite thing. And being in Indian Guides is one of the coolest parts of dadhood. Y Indian Guides is for boys in kindergarten through second grade and their dads. The girls/dads version is called Indian Princesses.

The motto of the program is “Pals Forever.” That’s what attracted me – a City kid – in the first place.

Let me tell you about the Seminoles, the most fun tribe in the East Dallas Nation. And about the big impact this little program has had on me.

We are participators. The cry of “Ya-Ta-Hey,” our all-purpose exclamation, is heard often. We’re a hands-on group. You don’t see us sitting around the cabin reading the paper while the kids go off and play. There’s plenty of time for dad-talk around the campfire when the kids collapse at night.

On one camp-out, Saturday’s activities included breakfast in the mess hall, horseback riding, trips to the archery and rifle ranges, fishing and canoeing. And that was before lunch.

We play a dads vs. kids soccer game on each camp-out. So far, the big braves are winless, usually falling on a dramatic goal in overtime. Maybe next time.

We wear matching T-shirts with our Indian names on the back. I am Burning Arrow. Terry is Brave Wolf.

The list of things I experienced for the first time at age 33 because of Indian Guides is lengthy. The thrill of drilling a tin can with a bee-bee was exhilarating. Having my face war-painted by Terry, I mean Brave Wolf, for the big Saturday night procession and council fire is something I’ll never forget.

This isn’t bonding, it’s super-gluing.

I risked and joined Indian Guides because I thought it would be worthwhile and the kind of adventure my dad and I never experienced together. As an adult, I realized there were certain kid things I had never learned to do.

Although you won’t see me in any L.L. Bean ads anytime soon, I’ve learned about campfires, Coleman lanterns and how to make a horse turn left.

I have made terrific friends who have accepted and encouraged me. Along the way, my self-confidence has grown, I’ve become a better dad and have had a blast.

This fall my daughter Amy will be an Indian Princess.

Ya-ta-hey.