Twenty years ago, I fell in love.
Camping is our favorite thing to do…
People say they love the desert, and they probably do … at Thanksgiving when they’re visiting family in Tucson and walking around in sandals
If someone asks you if you want to see them breathe fire, do not say, “Yes. Yes, I would like to see you breathe fire.” Or there will be trouble.
It was Charlotte’s idea to sign up for a women’s hiking trip run by a wilderness tour company with a Native American bent.
Right now, choices are being made in corporate and government offices that will decide the mix of power generation in the rest of this century.
I am climbing Granite Peak, the highest mountain in Montana, and sweat is pouring off my brow.
There is a buried and meandering channel of history moving unseen through the Moab Valley’s narrow, rimrock embrace.
In the white brick courtyard of the 16th century Catholic church in Managua, Nicaragua, a dark mob of angry Central Americans were screaming two familiar epithets: “Yankee go home!” and “Vaya Gringo!”
After that outing, we cast ourselves as Lady Emily and Lord Willard in a Gothic adventure story inspired by my English ancestry and favorite novelist in adolescence.
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