Posts
Last Exit To White Blaze
I woke the next morning with that same trail anxiety that had kept me up the night before. It hadn't eased with sleep—just settled deeper in my
In Which the Rain Persists, the Knife Glimmers, and Lefty Keeps Too Quiet And the Trail Starts to Break
The days in Virginia blurred into a singular, sodden trial—less a march forward than a slow baptism by mildew. The notion of dry socks had long since
Yeah Bear: The Elegy of Cubby, First Fat of Spring —with apologies to sense, decorum, and the National Park Service
Spring cracked open like a soft-boiled egg over the Southern Appalachians, somewhere after Lick Creek but before that long, slow surrender toward
Concerning the Enchanted Farm of Ceres, the Curious Case of the Charm That Would Not Progress
First off, whoever said that Virginia was flat is wrong. Our entry into the state was marked by consecutive days of storms—rain and lightning poured
On the Nature of Trail Days and the Kingdom Beneath the Canopy
I hopped off the trail at Damascus, VA, with a dream and a broken trekking pole. Welcome to where all the hikers hang out—the friendliest town on the
No Exit: A Smokies Tale in Three Acts
The pack was packed. The thunder had passed, and morning broke over Fontana Dam with the hush of wet judgment. Permit? Check. Food?
Ode to the Pebble in My Trail Runner
A nonsense poem in the ancient tongue of Trailish, for sufferers of the skritchsome curse In which our hero, maddened by friction
Which Relates the Pilgrim’s Solitude, the Return to the Path, and the Trial of the Golden Pebble
The zero had passed. The page turned, the die cast. I stepped back upon the serpentine ribbon they called trail—Winding Gap—the Pack once more lashed
In Which Our Pilgrims Found No Wisdom in Gear Videos but Much in Coffee and Fading Light
Having escaped the eye of Many-Sayings, I found that the old rumors of North Carolina were not without substance. The land grew merciful, or at least
In Which Nobody Leaves Georgia, Meets Many Sayings, and Commits an Accidental Blinding
It had been just over a week on trail, and today, I was leaving Georgia behind. Dawn broke lazy and slow at Dicks Creek Gap, Mile 69. I packed up