• Felling a Tree

    There are over 3 trillion trees on planet earth. No, I haven’t counted them. I might’ve missed one or two that way.

    I’m surrounded by pinyon, juniper and ponderosa, with an understory of angry oakbrush that’s like a crowd at Wal-Mart on Black Friday to get through. A lot of the trees are dying. The pinyon, […]

    ... read the entire post


  • The Nearer World

    I live in an area forested with pinyon-juniper trees. Groves of ponderosa and underlying oak brush take up the higher ground. In spring, draws carry the mountain runoff from the La Plata Mountains, about 13 miles away. The stems of the oak snap back across the face of the hiker like angry plastic plants. He […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Is This It, Then? The End?

    Oh shit! Did you put out the campfire?

    A lot is happening right now: Covid. Stock market collapse. World War. Political instability. You could be forgiven for concluding that the world is at an end. There are certainly enough websites out there that are saying that.

    People have been predicting The End since the beginning. […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Red Canyon, Utah

    Like Yale Forestall, the hero in The Dirt, a novel of mainstream-contemporary fiction, I live on the edge of the Colorado Plateau, which means I’m on the verge of red rock country. While I love the mountains which I’m also perched on the flanks of, a slight favorite is the high desert of southeast Utah. […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Gooseberry Mesa

    Cedar Breaks

    Campsite envy is a horrible disease, a pernicious gangrene of the soul. I’m on Gooseberry Mesa, a couple miles from Smithsonian Butte. It’s the backdoor to Zion NP. I drive with a few miles of red dust as my rooster’s tail to find the perfect spot, only to see someone snap up […]

    ... read the entire post


  • My Own National Park

    North Rim Vista

    Amazing how the cosmos cosmosizes.  I wonder to the wind and sky where I should end up today, after my few days at Parrisawampitts.  When I get back to camp, two hunters drive up.

    “I’ve been thinking about heading to Indian Hollow,” I say.

    “Oh, Indian Hollow’s nothin’.  It’s not even on the […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Narrow Canyon

    After a breakfast of cold oats and an orange, I take Highway 95 a few miles to Rec Road 633, which comes in on the north between the Colorado and Dirty Devil rivers. This crimson track traces around the base of a thin rock wall decaying into fins. I ride the red, flakey shale for […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Riding the Sturm Out

    I reach camp. The backpackers parked about a mile north have gone. Now, I’m truly alone at the end of this road. I gorge on two cans of cold tuna and a huge bag of toffee cashews. As an afterthought, I decide to check the weather.  The forecasts have worsened. Rain all night. Thunder and […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Return

    At day’s end, I hike back toward camp, down the red clay of Hole-in-the-Rock Road. Another storm rolls off the Straight Cliffs which loom in the west, taking up half the sky. Lightning strikes to the south along a flat expanse of rangeland dotted with sage. I climb down to a low spot. Black veils […]

    ... read the entire post


  • Getting Away from YOU

    Where would you hide something from the public?

    I’d moved out to the Four Corners so I could savor the solitude, 11 miles from the nearest town (pop. 1,100), five hours from the nearest city. But that wasn’t alone enough. So, I drive out to Escalante, hundreds of miles from home. But that’s not […]

    ... read the entire post