A postcard is a small picture with a letter on the back. Short, about a place, personal, but not hidden. My postcards are a little longer, I tend to ramble, I use my own pictures, and they’re usually a little sad cause I’m feeling lonely or lost.
Last time I was here I was rambling on, wondering about the connection between Movement and Growth, what it is that encourages us to seek out change through new locations and experiences. I don’t really think I got anywhere with those thoughts but sometimes it’s just about getting the ball rolling. Well here I am, half a world away from home, from my real home in New Hampshire as well as my adopted one in Utah, and little by little I’m starting to gain the some perspective. Perspective of my homes, my place in them, their meaning to me, their gifts and opportunities, as well as their problems and shortcomings. I won’t lie, to me, a lot of the time, the world seems like a fucked up crazy place on the cusp of bursting or burning up. But it’s hard to remove yourself from the world, especially your own, to get the perspective you need to know if this is true, or what can be done about it. Sometimes the easiest way to get a new perspective is to actually step back and walk around to the other side. Travel and perspective go hand in hand, and to sometimes all it takes is a little movement to get the perspective you need to see if things are really as bad as you think, or why, or what might be done to help. Continue reading →
Get out alone, into the wilderness, at least a week… Advice spoken by a ture friend that has echoed in my mind over the last few months. Words I’ve known and felt before, but coming from him they sounded like a clear bell that could split the fog. Near the end of the winter, my friend and his wife invited me over for dinner. We shared a simple, delecious meal and then talked. I cried. They offered support and well wishes for the season ahead. The snow began to melt and we parted ways. But the words remained. Continue reading →
We’re all seasonal creatures. Try as we might to insulate ourselves from the reality of winter, patterns change, and with them our habits and routines. Many of us chase the seasons from place to place, as if they are beholden to a specific location.
Every spring for the past ten years, I’ve rolled down the same small canyon in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains. And every fall, I stumble back, penniless and parched for powder.
As the nights begin to cool and the days begin to shorten, my thoughts look forward to the winter ahead. But before the faceshots, before the early mornings and frozen toes, comes the migration. Continue reading →
A lot of times I find myself unmotivated to share or write about our lives when I don’t feel like we’re doing anything noteworthy or significant.This happens to me often in the winter, when work dominates my day to day and I’m lucky to find time to get out on small ski tours and climbs.I think it’s basically a function of how much I feel like I’m challenging myself.When I’m out working towards larger goals or attempting them, I’m psyched to share my progress and experiences, but when my life takes a mellower routine, I’m content to go to the crag without a camera, and spend some time in the mountains without writing about it here.We all need our version of silent reflection, whether it be from our jobs, our partners, ourselves or the whole scene, this time can give us the perspective and inspiration to return invigorated and focused.
In light of all this, I wanted to share a little bit about our lives for the last few weeks, because while I might not feel like I’ve been challenging myself enough, our days have been full and there’s been a lot going on, in fact, we’ve got pretty big news, but you’ll have to read to the end for that.After all, if my goal is to advocate for a simpler, quieter lifestyle, one that might not always be as glamorous but continues to deliver satisfaction and adventure, well then what better place to start than here.With that in mind, here’s a brief look into the last month of our lives through some words and pictures.
I’ll always be an East Coaster who’s heart is pulled by the smell of fresh cut hay and cow manure, the thought of a steamy sugar house or a crisp autumn day filled with the fiery color of changing leaves. I don’t know what it is about growing up in New England that at once makes us so nostalgic for the simpler life of rural self-sufficiency, but at the same time lights a fire for the passion of a far flung adventure. Every so often I wander home and find myself torn between these sentiments, and as I grow older, I may not become wiser, but I certainly do gain the perspective of time, place, and experience to better understand these two sides of my personality. While this struggle has existed in me to some degree always, it’s when I return home that I consider it most often. The East versus West discussion can take on many forms; migration, motivation, mindset. Ultimately it’s about where we come from, and where we want to go, parts of ourselves that we can’t escape or deny.
I haven’t been cycling in months. Although this might come as some sort of sad irony in light of this blog being born from bicycle-powered adventure, I’m not really that broken up about it. Sure, I miss the bike, and those long warm rides in the mountains, but I miss it like I miss asparagus or basil, those ephemeral staples of spring and summer that might be short lived, but they have a time, and will be back next season. For now I’m loving the winter, the numbing cold, the short days parenthesized by extended darkness, the styrofoam crunch of snow under my skis, and the unparalleled beauty of the play of light on mountains dressed in white. I’m embracing the winter for what it is: now. Continue reading →