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Story

what makes me

This Day

This day should be every day. I knew a guy whose first words, every morning before his feet hit the

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The River

The headwaters of the Salmon River empty into this fertile basin, bordered on one side by the Sawtooth range and

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The Impassable Canyon

I was alone. Alone, in a group of 13 strangers, running a river through the largest swath of roadless land

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Twins

The sun was barely cresting the ridge this morning when we saw them. Emma growled low and I told her

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And They Flew

The evening before I left for the mountains, I headed down to the makeshift house to say goodbye. More for

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The Barrel

I dragged an empty barrel next to the trailer, where I set up a shelter with a few pavers and

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The Little Egg

Today is Mother’s Day. I’m not one. I’m apparently surrounded by them, though. There are signs of new life everywhere,

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Ride

what carries me