My neighbors got a “new” truck last summer. The white, extended cab, Ram 2500 with an eight foot bed sits and idles its diesel engine on the street; there is…
Author: admin
A little bit less of a nomad now, Jared still likes to refer to himself in the third person.
Home is where you find it and where you make it; that is what I try to tell myself. I sit in a curvy, plush Victorian-esque rocker, worn on the…
I could hear Anna cussing even though I was twenty yards behind. “There are two parties ahead of us.” It was exasperated and whispered, but the words drifted down through…
Years of outdoor education have helped build a habit of referencing things by cardinal directions and their ordinal “in-betweens”. “Use the entrance on the south door” I might say to…
Editor’s Note: This piece evolved from some prompts I had in a writing class I took two years ago from author Katherine Standefer. Pieces of the current news coverage have…
Editor’s Note: I wrote and published this post in 2014. It has always been one of my favorites and so much of what I have reflected on still resonates with…
Thick, pungent smoke billowed from between the two pieces of wood. First, wispy and upward in strung out curls, then heavy, grey, and everywhere. The lungs, laboring from the arms’…
Devil’s Slide rises almost 800 feet above my boyhood hamlet of Stark. As a child the deciduous forest that stretched northward across the railroad tracks from our house felt immense.…
Any time my friends and I end up at Del Taco in Las Vegas at midnight, there has got to be some sort of story. “Well, what do you want…
Editor’s Note: On the table by the window here at 616 Washakie sits a sun faded copy of Daniel Doan’s book, Our Last Backpack. It was a gift to…
The slots rise hundreds of feet upward, the narrows windy, twisty, sandy, muddy, straight, steep, flat, red, black, orange, grey, everything in between all those. These cleaving slices through the…
Author’s Note: The November 7th of 2021 marks the 25th anniversary of my father’s unexpected passing. He was 46. In the 23rd year after his death I actively engaged with…
My tears take the long way to the pillow. They trace a line over my cheek bone and down to my chin, being slowed by week-old stubble, before depositing themselves…
The pandemic reinforced my love of tea and tacos. Here is the beginning and the end to 2021’s daily grind: ~ the pot: with Andy home it is a two…