11,249 feet. Not ninety minutes ago, it had basked in the first rays of morning light before anywhere else, the sun spilling down from Mount Hood’s summit until it wakened the glaciers and, eventually, the forests below. Towering some 6,000 feet into the dizzyingly empty space above our heads, it’s a height difference that human minds aren’t fully equipped to understand. Judging with only your eyes, it might as well be 60,000 feet.
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On the Trail with Ulysses
Writing, like sleep, has never come easily to me. There’s a restlessness to it. Perhaps, because the search for the right words is a struggle that haunts every writer—the burden of imperfect communication. Then again, perhaps it’s because nearly all of my writing happens in the unlikeliest of places…
Rocky Mountain Wall Art
The Rocky Mountains. Perhaps no mountain range better resembles the image of the American west. Soaring spires of granite, vast alpine landscapes of lush greenery, and hidden lakes that serve as reminders of their glacial origin. The Continental Divide Trail (CDT) affords a front row seat to it all. From the snowy San Juans of...
Southwest Wall Art
The southwest is a land of mystery and contradiction. Sweeping desert landscapes, stately saguaro, and an arid ocean of seeming desolation that hides a wealth of life in plain sight. On thru-hikes of the Continental Divide Trail and Arizona Trail, along with a section hike of the Mogollon Rim Trail, we saw up close the...
Pacific Northwest Wall Art
Ice-capped hulking volcanoes. Mountains cloaked in ancient forests. Coastal beaches shrouded in mist adjacent to one of the quietest places in the United States. One word always comes to mind when I think back to the landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. No, not rain: diversity. Not far from our home, two trails wander—with unparalleled access—through...
Stone and Sky Wall Art
For all its challenges, long-distance hiking has one obvious upside: it affords you a front row seat to some of the world’s most spectacular scenery. Escaping to wild places via images on a webpage is one thing. Now, you can bring those landscapes into your home, with Stone and Sky wall art created from our...
Shortcuts in the Wild
Automation is having, shall we say, a moment. Spreading its tendrils through our lives everywhere from our homes to our cars and to the supercomputers disguised as smartphones stashed in our pockets, its promises are many. More efficiency, less time wasted on the perfunctory tasks of daily routines, and more focus on the things that really matter.
Pit Stop
Strange. I don’t remember there being rocks under me. In the trance-like state between dreaming and waking, not a whole lot makes sense. Yet, as the dust from my recent slumber settled, it was starting to making quite a lot of sense. I just didn’t like what it added up to.
Improvisation
One highway dividing two starkly different trails. That was the realization that was coming clear to us as we surveyed field upon field of rock leading off toward distant waves of low lying clouds.
Mirage
Deep in the heart of the world’s largest ponderosa pine forest is not the place one might typically think of evoking imagery of the ocean. In every direction, a uniform pattern of trunks and canopies extends toward all points of the compass in such a way that it’s difficult to imagine the forest ever coming to an end. The trail snakes its way through a labyrinth of sameness that makes it feel almost disorienting.
Starting Line
Since I’d first heard of it in 2016, the Arizona Trail has captured my imagination. Completed only five years earlier in 2011, it stretches nearly 800 miles north-to-south down the length of the state, from Utah all the way to Mexico. Along the way, the vast and often unsung diversity of Arizona is on display
Hidden Masterpiece
A person could get used to this, even in spite of the weather. The familiar pitter-patter on the roof of our tent at 4am sounded hesitant, almost apologetic, as though it knew that the clouds it brought with it would obscure nature’s masterpiece. The masterpiece we’d so looked forward to seeing.
Where Did Everybody Go?
I smelled my shirt just as a quick check. Yup, I smell terrible. But surely that can’t be the answer, can it? The reason for my olfactory investigation wasn’t because I was unsure of exactly how awful I stunk—I was already quite certain of that. It was because I couldn’t find an explanation to why we so suddenly had the trail all to ourselves.
The Agony and the Ecstasy of Nostalgia
When I was a kid, I loved geography. Couldn’t get enough of it. Maps, atlases, countries, flags, states, capitals. It was the first way I remember trying to understand the world I was a part of. To learn about my place in that world, and to exercise that childhood curiosity about places I would likely never see with my own two eyes…
Stone and Sky News & Updates - July 2021
Normalcy. Remember what that felt like? I’d very nearly forgotten myself. The 4th of July has come and gone and the heart of summer is finally here. But it’s not just any summer. Here in the U.S., it feels like we’re slowly tiptoeing our way out into the light, emerging from a state of pseudo-hibernation....
Triple Crown
One final night came and went, and the stars that had thrust aside the evening clouds dissolved into the gray light of morning. I rolled over and lit the stove for coffee before closing my eyes for a few more minutes thinking how, in spite of this being our last day on trail, it felt no different than any of the others.
Entr’acte
In less than 5 miles, there's only so much excitement that can happen. In the hours before taking even the first step of those 5 miles, we tossed and turned in our little home on the windswept and sun baked sands of the desert outside of Lordsburg. Like a prison spotlight, the moon had bathed even the small hours of the morning with a bright, white light.
A Trail Runs Through It
By the time we'd laid our heads to rest last night, the official CDT was miles away. Turning away from the Black Range, we'd opted instead for an alternate that would take us along the course of the Gila River and today would grant us our first glimpse of it.
Wyoming, Wyoming
The first time I saw the grassy hillsides sloping upward into dark green forest, I was 24. Hours earlier on the same cross country drive that moved me to Seattle, the flatland plains of the Midwest had stretched impossibly far into the distance, away from either side of my car as it zoomed down the interstate loaded with every one of my worldly belongings.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Food. Hot shower. Laundry. Grocery store. An easy hitch, or better yet, no hitch at all. Sounds basic enough, doesn't it? It's a simple recipe for the ideal resupply stop. And yet you'd be surprised by how few stops we make that check even that modest list of boxes.
What About Bears?
Remember this post? Yeah, me neither. Aside from navigation, it's true that questions (read: fears) about bears seem to be at the top of most people’s minds, but the reality is I’d be sorely disappointed to hike a long trail without seeing them. Having seen bears perhaps a hundred times in the wild, I can say with certainty that it never gets old.
Yosemite East
Did we miss something? Not five minutes down the trail from where we'd slept, it looked like a great hand had swept through the forest and toppled everything in its path, both the living and the dead. What looked like perfectly healthy trees, some several feet in diameter, lie one upon the other like match sticks that had spilled from their box.
Gear Porn
I'm beginning to sense a pattern. Up until a few short days ago, warm weather and clear skies had been the norm since we'd returned to Montana. Two days south of Helena that all changed as the blue skies with long views vanished, replaced by a smoky haze that has stubbornly refused to move on down the road. Each Montanan we cross paths with tells the same story…
Trailside Chats: Beardoh
New Mexico at last! A few short miles delivered us to Cumbres Pass and another hitch in the backup of a pickup truck to the nearby town of Chama. After being turned away by the miles of snow slogging in Montana, spending the month of July traversing the state of Colorado was a redemption of sorts.
500 and Counting
It sounds like a reasonably long distance when I say it out loud. I can't even tell you two cities that are roughly 500 miles apart, but if I could my next suggestion would certainly not be to walk from one to the other. That's what planes are for.
The Good Old Days
Right on schedule, 45 minutes early. That's our friend Hoa, having changed her uber-punctual habits not at all in the years since she had left Seattle and relocated outside of Denver. Appearing from the woods for our rendezvous at 7am as we were, she was striding across the parking lot having driven all the way out to meet us for the morning. Marathoner, ultra runner, ultra human. That's Hoa.
Endurance
In August 1914, with the world peering into the void of what would become the First World War, a wooden ship unique among all but one set sail from Plymouth, England bound for Antarctica. Apart from its cousin ship, Fram, no other wooden ship had been built—or has been since—with such attention given to strength and the ability to withstand the crushing power of an Antarctic winter’s ice floes.
Back in the Saddle Again
The cloudless sky was one giveaway. The temperature in the 80s was another. I don't think we’re in Montana anymore.
Is This the Right Border?
It's always strange when things you've looked forward to for so long are finally right in front of you. The past several years have in a very real sense all been leading up to this—a humble looking dirt path branching away from an otherwise un-noteworthy patch of road.
Red Rock, Meet Blue Sky
There's very little that the Pacific Northwest and the desert Southwest have in common, except for one important detail: they're both landscapes defined by water. So much of the lush green Pacific Northwest and it's snow-capped peaks is owed to its surplus while the arid desert and mesa of the Southwest have a character shaped by its near-complete absence
Solitude
Just as the sun began to crest the distant ridge, we were already saying our goodbyes to the Desolation Wilderness. The uncharacteristically rock-choked trail that had begun almost upon entering the wilderness yesterday continued for a few final miles as we hewed closely to the shore of Echo Lake…
Evolution
It took me a moment to recognize what I was looking at. Scattered flecks of grey and white were sprinkled on my hammock as I went to turn in last night, and it was then I realized that the smoke hanging on the horizon that had given us such a scarlet tinged sunset had also given us these little flakes of ash. It was odd to have that connection to something happening so far away.
Roots
Nearly one year ago, I arrived at an unassuming stripe of cleared forest that would never have been identifiable as an international border had it not been for the small silver obelisk marking precisely that. A few feet away, a collection of square wooden posts also declared this the end of a Pacific Crest Trail adventure that had begun 2,650 miles and…
Mental Endurance
The moon was bright and clear in its corner of the sky as it rose above the shoulder of the mountain we camped high upon last night, but it didn't last--it too was soon swallowed by the clouds that cast a light but cold rain down on my tent overnight. When I woke this morning, little had changed and it was off again in full rain gear once more, hoping for the best.
Thank You Sunshine
It was an exhausting night trying to keep things as dry as possible, and sleep came only in short spurts. The sweetest sound of the morning wasn't even a sound at all but rather the absence of one: the absence of rain falling on the tent. It was a big weather break if it would only hold out long enough to climb up and find a spot with some sun if there was any to be found.
Forgiveness
A relationship with nature is, surprisingly, not altogether different from any other relationship with a loved one or a friend. Motivated by the conditions on a day like yesterday, it's the easiest thing in the world to feel frustrated, angry. But weather is simply an inextricable part of the wilderness, and how can you hate a thing you love for being itself?
Frustration
Mentally and physically exhausted. That's how I began the day. For me, the surest sign my fatigue is setting in is my utter and complete lack of patience with anything and everything: the disgustingly dirty state of my feet, the rock that I stubbed my sandal on, hell, even the ant that is stupidly clinging to the mosquito netting of my tent as I packed up this morning.
Blueberry Forest
Since crossing I-5 outside of Ashland, I've felt closer to civilization in Oregon than any other stretch of the trail so far. The best evidence is the number of consecutive road crossings, many separated by less than half a mile, that we seem to encounter every day here.
The State of Jefferson
The town of Seiad Valley hardly qualifies as a town at all, complete with its population of 350 and comprised only of a cafe, store, post office, and RV park that occupy consecutive lots. Aside from hosting a pancake challenge--anyone who eats 5 pounds of pancakes, gets them for free--its real claim to "fame" is…
What Do You Mean There's No Water?
Just when memories of the searing heat and long waterless stretches of the desert had drifted deep into the recesses of my mind, it all came abruptly flooding back...but I'll come back to that.