We hunker. The ambient air temperature is 45 degrees and last night’s dusting of snow cloaks Gannet and its cohorts. A cold wind whips down from the Dinwoody Glacier, pushing…
Tag: Mountaineering
Is it possible to de-assess myself? Stress is weighing on me, heavier than the sixty pounds of gear and food I am shouldering up this long, steep gully. Kick, kick,…
They are the best of times, they are the worst of times, they are places of wisdom, they are places of foolishness, they are places of belief, they are places…
The following is an essay that I wrote shortly after returning from my first NOLS course as an instructor. I am posting it here, today in remembrance of the events…
As usual, I wished for rain. It is always easier on the ego than feigning a case of the Sphinx Sphincter or Gannett Gut, things that are failings of the…
26 December 2013 — It has been almost two years since Carlyle Norman perished on the south side of St. Exupery in the Patagonian Andes. Since that time she rarely…
“Why do we have to go so early? Will it be a long day?” Hannah asks. “That is a good question” I think to myself. “Well there are a couple…
“I like the sound of rain on the fly” Jim says, half prone in his red, mummy bag. “It is especially good when you know you don’t have to go…
Twenty-four hours ago we waded, almost thoughtlessly, across the calf deep McCoy Stream, climbed the stony embankment and walked to the small hut on the north side of the creek.…
October 1st 2013 1100 — “Man, sometimes the group decision making process drives me insane” Sean utters as he crawls into the vestibule. One hand holds the tent door fabric…
“Want to bet on what the weather does mañana?” I ask Christian. “I think it will be clear” he says after a moments reflection. “Hmmm, what makes you think that? …
Porters Ski Field Winter 2012 — “Shiddaduduh” Hayden Gemmell points out to a skier as they are getting on the tow line. The skier turns around and gives Hayden a…
25-27 November 2012 — Blue sky is somewhere above. Christian sits in “my” vestibule and pumps the Whisperlite. The smell of white gas permeates the tent. Then comes the soft…
The nighttime silence of the Cameron River valley seeps in through the yellow fabric of our tent. The pale green glow of the light on the Timex watch I wear…