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.
PROLOGUE: AN ALPINE BOUNCE The Bernese Oberland, Switzerland ON THE SECOND day of June, 1993, I fell down a mountain. It was a spectacularly unpleasant thing to do. As an experience it isn’t something I’d recommend, but for the way it changed my approach to life I remain eternally grateful. The accident took place
A FAIR NUMBER of people have now asked me: “Why isn’t The Earth Beneath My Feet in colour?” It’s a reasonable question, and one I completely understand. I’ve only ever read genuine curiosity in it – never criticism. I usually answer by saying: “I wish it was!” After all, the wild Europe I walked across
OVER THE LAST month and a half I’ve been lost in the wild – well, lost in writing about the wild! I’ve been deeply engaged in an epic reworking of On Sacred Ground, taking all the feedback I’ve received from my incredible beta readers and fully developing and articulating all the book’s themes. I’ve been
A book that goes one step farther – a rare book of honesty and insight. The Farthest Shore by Alex Roddie is a rare book. It is rare for several reasons, partly for the journey it describes – a challenging adventure attempted at a challenging time of year – but mostly for its honesty, its
BACK IN JUNE, I forwarded the manuscript of my second book, On Sacred Ground, to six trusted friends. Their task was to read it and provide honest critical feedback, with a focus on picking up sections that were slow, redundant, or simply didn’t make sense. I asked them to comment without holding back, to
I FELT AS THOUGH I was in my early twenties again as I charged along the trail, expanding my lungs and my horizons, feeling excited by each twist and turn, by everything that lay ahead: the night in camp, the quietness, the simplicity and adventure, and by the season – most of all by the