The Struggle I Choose
You can’t run from Mother Nature. At least, I can’t. I grunted up miles of switchbacks, tracking thunderheads as they flexed their fluffy might maybe a ridge or two over. Now above tree line, a judgment call grounded in so…
On Departure’s Eve
After a week of firsts and fist bumps, I huddled around a campfire, all raw muscles, beer in hand, love in heart, singing and shaking tambourines with good, good folks. One by one, our little impromptu Valley family band eventually…
Things I Have Ingested While Backpacking: An Incomplete List
Swedish Fish candies (red only) Chocolate pudding containing all of the things we couldn’t fit into our bear canister that night The charred remains of a solitary square of over-fried SPAM Multiple unidentified winged creatures, raw Crushed Pringles, with a…
To Love A Mountain
To love a mountain is to get up close and personal with it – but also it, to you. It starts innocently at first, a glance out the car window or a set of concentric lines on a map leading…
