Our first day of section two on the Colorado Plateau with the Wild Rockies Field Institute (WRFI), we hike five miles into Dark Canyon Wilderness, formerly part of the recently reduced Bears Ears National Monument. Prior to entering Dark Canyon Wilderness, my mind is foggy. Troubles of the past haunt my brain. Loss, uncertainty and

I sat perched several hundred feet up on the side of the crumbling sandstone cliff, looking out of the large hole that had been formed in its side. I gazed out at the vast expanse of land laid out below me, the hills of sage and towering white stone pillars reaching for the sky, and

As I sit writing this the waning gibbous just less than full rises gold in the East, fighting through a haze of clouds. We are expecting storms but rain in the desert would be only a beautiful privilege to breathe, smell, and be a part of. For now, we let a warm wind wrap us

Tromping through a tangle of bushes and grasses, I listen for a trickling sound. I know there must be a small waterfall nearby. We’re in Halfmoon Park – a massive, halfmoon shaped wall stands at the top of a valley. It’s our destination on our backpack and today we have a layover day. When I

My sleeping pad popped on the sixth day of the semester. Gear failure was my worst fear for the course, and it came true at a time when I least expected it. I woke up on a flat mat on the third day of an eight-day hike, and because of my lack of preparation, I

“In the Western tradition there is a recognized hierarchy of beings, with, of course, the human being on top. But… we must look to our teachers among the other species for guidance. Their wisdom is apparent in the way that they live. They teach us by example.” -Robin Wall Kimmer “Hey bear!” A deceiving call,

I can’t get to my binoculars quickly enough. The dark shape soars above us in effortless circles. I can see the flash of white tail feathers in the sun. I fumble with the protective covers of my binoculars and finally squint through the eyepieces as my kayak twists sideways in the water. The bald eagle

A beautiful crest of the Rocky Mountains forms the background as I enter a handmade home on the Blackfeet Reservation in northern Montana. I enter and a warm woman greets me at the door to offer coffee and hot chocolate. This helps to break the semi-awkward ice. We go outside and look at a lush

I was standing in a feedlot in Choteau, Montana with malt sprout dust and chopped-up hay blowing around me, as thousands of Charolais, Angus, and hybrid cattle were getting ready for their feed. The general manager was giving us a tour of the operation and the place he called home. I never thought I’d be

Prior to traveling with WRFI, I had never seen mountains in person. As I am writing this blog, I am sitting somewhere in Jumbo, surrounded completely by land structures that were only an image to me five weeks ago. I am also surrounded by students, professors, hosts, and speakers who were only names on an