Reminders of humanity in Mexico
One of the greatest advantages of traveling the world is being reminded how similar we all are, regardless of culture, race, language or religion.
‘We ride these waters dark and dusty, so ride my people ride’
Hello from Room 26 at the Thunderbird Lodge within earshot of Interstate 90 on the outskirts of the small city of Mitchell, South Dakota. Most notably the hometown of the late politician George McGovern, the 1972 Democratic nominee for president.
This must be the place: ‘Lost man singing for his soul, I saw it on Rio Bravo’
Hello from Room 205 of the Dude Rancher Lodge on North 29th Street in the heart of Billings, Montana. It’s 10:29 a.m. Already 82 degrees with a hot sun. Expected to top out ‘round 100 degrees when all is said and done on this Wednesday.
Trail volunteers visit Japan for exchange
This July, the Carolina Mountain Club (CMC) is embarking on a landmark journey to Japan, marking a momentous step in the club’s history.
This must be the place: ‘I’m headed for the Bozeman Round and it’s goodbye to Old Missoula, sleepy town’
Hello from 26,982 feet above Southern Appalachia. Somewhere near southeastern Kentucky. En route to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Over an hour flight delay leaving the Asheville airport. Ground speed is 539 miles per hour. About 760 miles to our destination. One hour and 41 minutes left before touchdown in the Twin Cities.
Lessons learned in the wilderness
My last column was written just before I returned from Wilderness Trail. I’m not sure what propelled me to sign up for this adventure, other than I felt it was time to challenge myself.
This must be the place: ‘In the woods from far away, from across the fields and pastures, in the cool misty morning air’
Hello from atop the roof of my parents’ 1840 brick farmhouse. Some 20 feet up on the back end of the structure. It’s hot as hell walking across the old roof in the midday sunshine and heat of early summer in the Champlain Valley of Upstate New York.
This must be the place: ‘17 has turned 35, I’m surprised that we’re still livin’
Hello from the coast of Maine. About an hour northeast up along the shoreline from Portland. The small, quaint community of New Harbor. More specifically, Pemaquid Beach Village.
Reflections on lessons learned at Bonnaroo
Wednesday morning, June 12, I left my sister’s house in Sapphire for my very first music festival.
I’d been to plenty of other concerts, raves and shows but had never dedicated more than a few hours to live music at any one time.
Into the wilderness we go
When this column is published, I’ll be emerging from five days in the wilderness of Southwest Virginia. A group from First United Methodist Church of Waynesville will be participating in the Wilderness Trail experience from June 21-26.
