52 Days

A year zips by like a springtime river. The trick is to put on your waders and get in there to seize all the potential within those 365 days. I rarely indulge in setting lofty goals and clever resolutions--really, a headstand a day will either happen or not--but there has been a bare minimum desire... Continue Reading →

Voices of Bears Ears

Voices are screaming, howling, pleading, and hoping for the protection of the canyons, sagebrush forests, and cliffs full of history and sacred messages. The chorus is diverse and loud, but drums beat a counter-point that appears to resonate with the ones making decisions at the highest levels. Rather than listen to land, the wind in... Continue Reading →

Learning to Overland

I was never the child that pushed the limits of outdoor play. I spent as much time outside as possible, but did not climb the tallest trees, jump absentmindedly into a creek, or dig a snow cave. I am a dip the toes in, obtain sufficient data, and develop a plan of attack kid to... Continue Reading →

Midlife and Overland

I started wondering what a midlife crisis would look like in our world a couple of years ago. I was pretty sure it did not involve surgical interventions, second homes, or fast cars, but there were murmurings and random admissions we could use an ATV to gain access to more terrain in the mountains. As... Continue Reading →

Salmon Fishing in Colorado

The plan is to get up tomorrow and go do something we have never done before. The kokanee salmon are running at Blue Mesa Reservoir and we are going to go try our hand at catching them. The key question tonight is--what color nail polish do salmon like? I have opted for a pinky-orange color... Continue Reading →

Fish-Troverts

Wallflowers should not build recognizable internet personalities. Blending in to the streambed and hiding in the current is not just for trout--I have always been exceptionally good at the art of invisibility, particularly at conferences. I reckon I could still stealthily work a meeting of attorneys or scientists, getting just enough eye contact to get... Continue Reading →

It is Yvon’s Fault

The provenance of this fishing obsession of ours has roots in Oklahoma, unlike us. It starts in 2012. There is Yvon Chouinard and the Mountain Fork River, from there it grows like laboratory bacteria on a perfectly poured petri dish of agar—something I used to do more of before I found fishing. We had a... Continue Reading →

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