When Andrew Terrill’s ice axe hit a bump and flew from his hand, he lost his only hope of self-arrest. As he hurtled headlong down the precipitous slope of the Hohtürli Pass like “a rag-doll on the way to oblivion”, he realised this is how it feels to die. Yet miraculously, he didn’t. As he
The outdoor diary of a writer, photographer, and wilderness wanderer
TWO MONTHS HAVE passed since my last blog – an update is probably well overdue! On Sacred Ground is pretty much finished. The book has been fully written, edited, typeset, proofed, and proofed again, and I finally have the first sample copies in hand. Getting this far has taken an epic amount of work, although
RECENT DAYS HAVE been full. Walking, camping, running, climbing, working, playing, cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring, presenting, learning, singing, sleeping, laughing; alone and in company: with family, friends, with strangers. Yes, full. Too full to have made time to pen any well-considered blogs! Over the last three weeks I’ve spent plenty of time on foot, several more
THE EVENING IN CAMP at 11,600 feet was undeniably peaceful, and deeply, deeply soothing. From the shoulder of the mountain, I watched day transition into night. It was a gentle ‘letting go’ of brightness and urgency, almost like a sigh, or a long-held breath being released, and it was made all the more peaceful by
FOR EVERYONE WAITING for On Sacred Ground I have an announcement and a sincere apology to make: I’m pushing back the release date to October 1. To be clear, I regret doing this. Many of you have told me how much you are looking forward to On Sacred Ground. Some of you – especially those
CHANGE IS THE only guarantee, stability is but a fleeting illusion. Few things illustrate this more clearly then the annual winter-spring-winter-spring seesaw that takes place here in Colorado’s Front Range foothills. Last week, temperatures soared. The sun shone with soul-caressing warmth. I strode across hills and open space watching the land emerge from its covering
EARLY LAST WEEK a backpacker made a comment on a social media group page that stuck with me. ‘I can’t wait for camping season,’ they wrote. ‘Does anyone think April is too early to start?’ Of course, several people chimed straight in, boastfully claiming that there is only one season for camping – all year.
NORMALLY, I’M EXTREMELY organised when it comes to backpacking – especially winter backpacking. But I just demonstrated the opposite – I forgot the bloody matches, again, exactly as I forgot them last June. Ironically, I forgot them upon the same mountain. I realised my mistake at the trailhead this time, not once I reached camp.