Editor’s note: I haven’t done a lot of recreational writing as of late. This past winter most of my writing has been technical, professional, writing. In the process a co-creator…
Category: The Engine of Survival
Things that help keep me sane.
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…
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…
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.…
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…
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…
I knew there would be some choice words for the cars in front of us whenever we next stopped, but the truth is I am glad we were going twenty…
Editor’s Note: This was written in late May as I tried to settle into a pandemic routine at NOLS’ Three Peaks Ranch. Andy met me at the Steele House…
Editor’s Note: a compilation of various things I have written in the past mixed with new material, this is posted here today in honor of what would have been my…
NOLS courses are hard. My jaw thrusts downward and outward while my hands cup the sides of my mouth. “Rrreeddd tent, close your vestibule” I yell from my tent door…
Editor’s Note: Not my usual style of writing, but this grew out of an assignment for a class I am taking so I thought I would post it here…