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Deux Who
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Tag: travel writing

August 5, 2019 / 0 comments

What happens in the dry suit, stays in the dry suit.

July 7, 2019 / 0 comments

Religion, Politics and Lance Armstrong

April 28, 2019 / 4 comments

I Was Wrong About The Grand Canyon

March 9, 2019 / 0 comments

Slow Your Roll in Lanesboro

January 27, 2019 / 2 comments

Beware of the Botlass Fly

January 6, 2019 / 0 comments

Twice Is Nice (and other travel lessons we’re learning too late)

May 14, 2018 / 2 comments

Alternative Ending

January 10, 2018 / 3 comments

“Best Nine” of 2017

November 17, 2017 / 2 comments

The Ranger is Always Right

October 31, 2017 / 2 comments

To the Top of Zion

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I love winter so much more when I can leave it on the mountain and return to perpetual spring.

Remember that Jimmy Eat World song, “The Middle?” That’s how life feels right now. While many things are getting easier, some things are getting harder. Mainly, I miss my people. The weight of this, compounded by a stressful day at work, made me wish I could just go home. As I was struggling with this thought, I looked up and saw Mt. Hood surrounded by so much color. It filled my heart with joy and reminded me why I came here in the first place. To be inspired, to stretch my boundaries and to explore the great unknown. Nature knows what’s best for us and often times, that involves taking us out of our own heads.

Getting my greens

Pendleton’s wild streak runs deep. @laurel.bybee, @woods.es and I spent a weekend exploring its bright side and underbelly. Read all about it on the blog (link in profile).

Umpqua Hot Springs, located about 200 miles southeast of Portland. The four-hour drive was incredibly beautiful as I wove in and out of low clouds and brilliant sunshine. I met another solo roadtripper hiking to the springs. Sarah and I ended up spending the entire afternoon together. Nothing bonds two people like public nudity and deep conversation.

Today’s run wasn’t my fastest time, but it was one of the best times I’ve ever had on the trail. It took me nearly two hours to run 8 miles through Forest Park. I stopped every quarter mile or so to look around and exclaim, “I can’t believe I live here!” and “I’m so lucky to live here!” Brilliant sunshine was bookended by rain and hail. If I ever find myself taking this beauty for granted, I’ll know I’m officially dead on the inside.

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