Welcome to my blog, the outdoor diary of someone who prefers to feel the earth beneath his feet. It’s what I am passionate about, it’s what I live for: to feel the earth beneath my feet. Not pavement, not concrete and especially not carpet, but the wild earth in its many natural forms.
I have written two books about this passion: The Earth Beneath My Feet (published June 1, 2021) and On Sacred Ground (published October 1, 2022). The books take readers on a 7,000-mile wilderness walk into the heart of wild nature, and the purpose of this blog is to add extra background to the books. But it is also to share and celebrate the wild, and perhaps even to inspire. From engaging deeply with nature I’ve received extraordinary rewards, and if this blog can lead even one other person towards those rewards then it will have served its purpose.
Many of my wilderness journeys take place alone, but through this blog I hope you’ll tag along and share the miles with me. Thanks for stopping by!
And for further details on the book, select the BOOKS page in the menu above.
THE MOUNTAIN THAT sweeps upwards above my Colorado home is pretty small as mountains go. In fact, arguably, to call it a mountain is to stretch the definition of what a mountain is. For one thing, it only rises a thousand feet from the valley floor to the highest point – hardly a big altitude
A FEW WEEKS ago I made an appearance on a podcast: The Mind Fit Method, hosted by author, entrepreneur and podcaster, Michael Fancher. (Available HERE.) As you might guess from the title, one of the podcast’s main themes (from among many) is an exploration of ‘mindset’, and in this instance the focus was on my
Since The Earth Beneath My Feet was published I’ve received a variety of messages and emails from people I don’t know. To be honest, I hadn’t expected any. I had no idea if anyone would read my words, let alone react to them and reach out. But strangers have, and it has frequently been humbling
COLORADO IS FAR more frequently a sunny place than a foggy one, offering three-hundred sunny days a year – a bright gift from the climate gods that I would have appreciated while growing up in Britain! But it’s funny; one can have too much of a good thing. Too much sun often means too little
I ENJOYED A memorable encounter this weekend. It occurred while I was walking home from camp, and it involved a young couple, the only two people I met all morning out in the snowy woods. We didn’t speak for long – less than five minutes – but the exchange was unforgettable. It was heart-warming at
IT’S FASCINATING TO ME how ‘green’ summer can look when viewed from the far distance of winter. Apparently, the grass is greener on the other side of the year! I took the photos in this blog early on a July morning on the eastern edge of the ‘Blue Sky Wilderness’ – or The Quiet Side,