So many things can make or break a hike. What makes a hike a good hike for you? Here's what I noticed last time I went to the woods.
Basalt cliffs rose up straight up before us, and I imagined the floods advancing and receding repeatedly at the end of the Ice Age, the entire area being underwater, wiping out whatever was here before.
I spent April chasing Oregon's elusive wildflower bounty, hoping to catch the brief moment in time when tight little buds transform into fields of color.
The Coast Starlight train trip from Oakland to Santa Barbara is a beautiful nine hours long. I had frequently traveled up and down the U.S. west coast, but the train was just never as cheap or quick or convenient as flying or driving. But when all you have is time...
An old railroad is given new life, and a reminder to mix life's sweetness with the challenges.
Looking for color in the Dog Days of summer.
The Columbia Gorge hides a wealth of secrets, and I'm unlocking them by getting up close, learning their names, making them mine.
An afternoon hike in Lacamas Park turns into a hike into history, ecology, botany and more. The retired life!
All of Portland loses its mind on a day like this. We head out to soak up a winter's worth of soul sustaining sunshine. It's the promise that yes, change will come, even if it rains all the rest of this week. It's the acknowledgement that we did survive whatever personal hell was our winter.
Weather is the quintessential superficial conversation topic. In Southern California there's not much to say about it. Sunny today, sunny tomorrow, sunny next week. Now I have four winters under my belt, and everyone asks, "So, how are you liking the weather?"