The first time I climbed Angel’s Landing, the weather was perfect. I’d caught the first shuttle to the trailhead at 6 a.m. It was in the days before lottery-won permits were required to hike what is a bucket list-topping trail carved into rock overlooking Zion Canyon in Zion National Park.
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.…
Read moreThe 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.…
Read moreWhen 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. …
Read morePART 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.…
Read moreDriving 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.…
Read moreIn 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.…
Read moreI 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.…
Read moreI 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.…
Read moreUpon 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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