“Even when I’m a thousand miles away from my roots, I’m home.” -Zac Brown Band Growing up in a small town in Southern New Jersey with not many things to
To the fathers of eight exceptional young women: You sent your girls off into the backcountry of Montana and Canada. I would have been nervous being a father of three
No one wants to carry around an encyclopedia in their 75 liter pack through the Scapegoat Wilderness. Even if I did want to carry around my phone, there is no
With this piece I am portraying two of the values of the wilderness; accessing the concrete, physical attributes that surround you and the reflective thought that they provoke. Some choose
I sit perched on a sandstone ledge overlooking a bend in the wash of Larry Canyon. From here I can see the white salt deposits from the stream, blanketing the
As our group sits beneath the glow of the evening sky, the smell of a warm peanut butter, soy sauce, brown sugar, veggie, and rice noodle feast wafts around us.
My wristwatch alarm goes off at 7:30 a.m. I am snuggled up to my two other tent buddies buried deep in my sleeping bag with a hat, long underwear, and Smartwool socks
If you’re a WRFI student meandering down Horseshoe Canyon and it happens to be both Easter and April Fool’s Day, consider yourself lucky. We departed our sandstone haven of a campsite and
It’s funny how road tripping and being in the backcountry for two months has brought me to realize how much food plays an important role in shaping who we are.