As the Trail Turns

When men are sexist to me on trail I can usually out hike them; however, it's going to happen, even on routes you do alone. I was in nowhere New Mexico, cross country, and some guy said "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here?" Like that has anything to do with anything. I … Continue reading No to Bros

The air is heavy and sweet, the smell of rain in the desert, toasted wet sand, sage and lavender. Up ahead gray and black clouds blow in, curdle, drop hail. Crap my rain jacket is at the bottom of my backpack. Quickly empty contents of backpack. Cover self and backpack with poncho tarp. Watch hail … Continue reading Storms 

On shit faced boozey Bourbon Street, me and Willy are touching knees and elbows with well behaved strangers in a packed low lit European pub where a tall man with long fingers and an old hat plays like Jelly Roll Morton.  The pianist we are listening to is Richard Scott, who is probably Jelly Roll … Continue reading New Orleans 

In valleys, over passes, and through forests of the Canadian Rockies I followed big paw tracks, and big paw tracks that overlapped, grizzles, and I stepped over their large piles of shit, sometimes still warm.  It's at once perverse and invigorating when you're alone next to a large pile of steamy bear shit. You've spent … Continue reading While on the Great Divide Trail 

I grew up white trash in an Ohio township that has a nuclear power plant.  A lot of the townspeople wear construction hats because they work at the power plant and think it's a good deal because it pays for cable TV and a good public school. The power plant is built alongside a very … Continue reading Perry

When you hike, you must live with the wind. It is an invisible impetus, a friend or foe. It will tangle hair and tickle your nose, then turn around and cool your toes. It gets mad and roars, pushes me along ridges and passes, but it sighs and moans from protective canyons. It drives like … Continue reading Living with the Wind 

It takes three quick hitches to get from Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley to Las Vegas.  The first ride is from a coupla fellow long distance hikers who recognize me from Instagram. We shoot the shit about our favorite variety of granola bar,  and what pack is so hott right now (just kidding).  The second … Continue reading Vegas