I grew up I’m a forest full of trees. My home was chock in the middle of the San Bernardino National Forest. My street emptied into fields of Live Oaks, Jeffrey Pines and cedar trees. Pussy Willows sprouted as weeds do lush and every where along the trickling creek bed. I grew up hiking …
To this day I cannot eat a Cliff Bar. I blame THAT on the Sierras. Altitude sickness is no fun. Neither is explosive diarrhea 15 miles from the nearest bathroom. Oh believe me, I lived through that shit. Literally. It began with a backpacking trip in Southern California. Sounds simple enough. Add 6 friends. Try …
Rainy days were meant for blogging in front of a roaring fire. This been a pretty phenomenal rainy day. All day long as I sit in my cabin in front of a roaring fire enjoying this amazing fall weather, friends and family have been texting to tell me they saw my column in the local newspaper. …
Sometimes I feel like I must repress some of my childhood memories and then they come flooding back to me at the mention of a subject like mushy lettuce. Oh yes, mushy, chewy slime-like lettuce brings back the memories of the Whoppers and the summer of eighty-nine. In the summer of 1989, …
Every time I pull myself dripping with sweat, muscles screaming in pain, to the top of another peak, I start dreaming about what I will make for dinner. After six hours of hiking uphill gaining near five thousand feet of altitude all I can focus on is when will I have another meal that is …