The Rim

At the rim there’s a full silence. A silence that grabs words and whisks them into forgotten crevices. Syllables can’t enclose a place where time and force are masters. We see the canyon and its maker—the muddy ribbon of flow in its shadows—as they are now, as they have been during the paltry span of … More The Rim

Snow Script

I look for coyote prints first. Last night, yips then growls and snarls cracked the cold Wyoming air. Nick was running and my mind strayed from logical-think to woods-think. Could the coyotes be growling at him? Could a pack down a lanky, awkward elk calf in running tights? I slid the door open and gave … More Snow Script


Two trucks barrel down the embankment where we’ve parked high in the Uintas Mountains. We heard them pass a few minutes before but they’ve turned around and come back. They park close, their lights glare through the gaps in our window insulation. We hear a door open and close. I slide open our door expecting … More Utah

Settling In

Monday The Westy emerged from the garage. We bolted the exhaust to the engine, added oil and coolant, hooked up the battery, and started her up. She belched exhaust. We screwed the oxygen sensor into the gaping hole in her exhaust and started her again. She sputtered and gave a rumble, but she was working … More Settling In

In the Garage

It’s the thinking about tomorrow that frustrates us. It’s the wanting to be on the road, humming along, singing Fleetwood Mac and knowing that we’ve started our journey. Instead, we’re stuck in the garage, using wrenches and sockets to pull out cold metal parts. The Westy’s guts sit on the floor. Our home won’t budge … More In the Garage

On Goat Time

The mountain goats have claimed this trail. We name it Alpine Trail No. 717 passing between a concrete microwave relay station and Mt. Aeneas. The ridge forms the first tooth in a serration of the earth stretching north and east across the Bob Marshall Wilderness and Glacier National Park and south along the parallel ridges … More On Goat Time