It’s an easy eight miles into town from the shelter. I’m on the trail before seven, hiking fast across the ridgeline as the sun tries to burst forth from behind the slate-colored clouds. Thousands of feet below, an explosion of green. Roads snake through pastures and trees. Tiny doll houses dot the landscape. Everything big … More Lightning Hangover: A Zero Day in Pearisburg
Today the trail is a mess of roots and rocks. Spiderwebs stretch from branches and trees, strands of sticky silk criss-crossed like caution tape across the trail. I brush them off my face, arms, neck, sunburned calves. Trip over the roots and rocks while doing so. Today, I decide, the trail is trying to kill … More The Trail is Trying to Kill Me
The birdsong begins before my alarm, an overlapping chorus of tweets and peeps and chirp-chirp-chirps. It’s a comforting sound, a sound that sounds like home. Which it is, really. Over the past year, I realize, I’ve spent more nights sleeping outside than in. I roll onto my side and open my eyes. They fall closed. … More Big Miles, Big Bears
We pull into the parking lot at Clingman’s Dome in the early evening. Alanna keeps the car running while I take too long to gather my things. Her heater is turned up all the way. Outside, the sky sags dark and heavy, unrelenting rain. “I can take you back to Asheville if you want,” she … More In the Smokies I Sleep in Shelters, In the Smokies it Always Rains
It’s raining when I wake up in the half-light at Fontana Dam. Raining when I take down my sopping wet tent and shove it inside my sopping wet pack. It’s raining when I set out on the trail as it winds up, up, up into the Smokies. I slept like shit. My gear is already … More A River Runs Throught It: Welcome to The Smokies
I Could Drive Forever 