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Don’t make the mistake of comparing your twisted-up insides to other people’s blow-dried outsides. Even the most privileged person in this stadium suffers the torments of the damned just going about the business of being human.”
-Mary Karr

I’ve never been labeled rich before, unless we’re referring to life experience. I have, however, been called crunchy.

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Now that I am officially not guiding anymore, and my bike trip is over, and I’m back in the gentle rains of Washington, I find myself thinking hard about where I’m going to call home. Home has been just about anywhere the last six years. I’d stumble over my words when asked where home is for me on my bike ride. Saying Washington only used to be true, and saying Wyoming felt off too, if only because I was so in between at the time.


The height of summer can be so blissful, carefree, and unhurried. But here in Teton County, it is full-blown tourist-crazed, crowded, uncomfortably hot and the wildlife is hiding. I always seem to forget about Angry August until it arrives. It’s time like these that my mind remembers the sweeter, calmer places I’ve spent summers in. It makes me think of other places I’d rather be in.

Like Alaska. I wrote my old boss and dear friend a “letter of recommendation” for Alaska for the girl he really wanted to move there. I think she was a little put-off and confused by my letter, more specifically, why I wrote it. But she did move there. This letter is part memory-keeper, part inspiration for you to high-tail in up to Alaska in the middle of summer one year. It’s absolutely blissful, carefree and unhurried.

April 2017

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A year ago, I left for Wyoming, and as the miles between Washington and me continued to grow and grow, I wrote this:

Back in the wild sweet nothings of the interior west. It’s these lands, the ones void of busyness and distractions, where I am stripped of all but everything I’m sure of in this world. These lands own me. 

April 2017
When I packed up my things and tetrised them into the back of my truck, I recognized that I didn’t try that hard at all to find a place in between my leases. I totally neglected doing anything about it, and part of me thinks I did it for a challenge in the midst of the comforts of a 9-to-5 job. I used to tell myself that movement meant growth, a new place meant learning, new perspectives, stories, growth and…a challenge. Things couldn’t be dull if I was always in a new place, I would always have to be on my feet. And now that I’m growing up a little and seeing the benefits of sticking around, I have to find other ways to challenge myself. It’s a nice way to prepare for camping season. The air is delicious this time of year.