Sometimes I think I enjoy planning a trip as much as I enjoy taking the trip. Over the years, I’ve honed the planning to a careful craft. There are spreadsheets, methods to the madness, and research that includes checking to see if anyone else has shared an itinerary for the trip I’m attempting.…
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The first time I visited Mojave National Preserve, I was just passing through. It was at the end of a 10-day trip split between L.A., Palm Springs and Death Valley. I spent about five hours in the park that first visit. In those hours, I managed to hike 3.2 miles, met a coyote, got butt-ass naked in a parking lot and vowed to return.…
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When five-time Iditarod finisher Jeff Deeter asked me how I got interested in the Iditarod, I blamed Winterdance, Gary Paulson’s 1994 book on his 17-day run to Nome. But really, it seems like at least a small awareness of the Iditarod was always around. Maybe that’s just what happens when you’re raised by wolves. …
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PART I: The Arrival
When I pulled into the designated parking spot for my campsite at Big Bend, I became immediately concerned it was, in fact, just a pile of rocks. I couldn’t see any semblance of a campsite from the car. The website said the sites weren’t level, sure, but this seemed excessive.…
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Driving toward Hayden Valley, legendary land of Yellowstone’s wildlife, I decided to temper my hope. I would, I thought, release my expectations. I wanted to see critters. That’s why I was awake before the sun, why I was already on the road by six something, but I knew better than to hope.…
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In the immediate aftermath of a loss, you may find that you wake without remembering. Maybe it hits you within seconds, maybe it takes whole minutes. Either way, grief will strike. It might hit you like a wayward wave, bowling you over, ripping the air from your lungs. Maybe it’s a quick strike, less cinematic, more like a gut punch, a face slap, a snake bite.…
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I was fresh off the loss of her, hadn’t made it more than 10 hours without a full-body cry and I was probably running from the devastating emptiness of a single-dog house. But, I was there, in Montana. Work sent me there, and I, being an opportunist, added an adventure to the backend of the work.…
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I spent the drive there pushing away the weight of it, singing with the windows down. It was day one of a five-day getaway and I was reveling in it, that good vibe sensation of free, open days spread out in front of me. I let it creep in as I got closer.…
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Upon receiving my cousin’s wedding invitation, I turned into a cartoon villain. Fingers and brows tented, I smirked. “Excellent,” I said. With that invitation, I had reason to go to Maine, the only state east of the Mississippi River I’d never set foot in and home to Acadia National Park, an almost 50,000-acre wonderland of rugged and rocky Atlantic coastline, woodlands, lakes and ponds.…
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There’s a lot I find appealing about lighthouses. I like that they exist to guide us through troubled waters, the way they serve as bright beacons of assurance in the midst of a mess. I like their history, the stories of harrowing rescues and narrow escapes from catastrophe, stories of vanished lighthouse-keepers or vivid tales of bravery and independent existences.…
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