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 and On Sacred Ground. 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.
IT’S NOT EASY running a new independent publishing imprint dedicated to wild nature when wild nature itself calls. Talk about distractions! There are a thousand and one details I ought to be taking care of to make certain that The Earth Beneath My Feet doesn’t sink without a trace when I launch it on
WINTER HAS RETURNED to the foothills of Colorado’s Front Range, as it so often does this time of year. Mid April? Spring? Hah! With flakes wafting down and cold nipping at one’s exposed digits you’d barely know it. Which made it the perfect time to share a night in the hills with Igloo Ed. Igloo Ed is
Or, The Unexpected Benefits of Sleeping Without a Tent. ONE OF MY goals this year (aside from successfully publishing The Earth Beneath My Feet) is to sleep out at least fifty-two times. That’s once every week on average. Fifty-two mountain nights. As quests go, it should be easy, right? Once upon a time it would
The location wasn’t anywhere well known or especially scenic. It was merely a rustic little cabin perched beside a modest little brook, a tumbling watercourse similar to many thousands right across Colorado. At first glance it looked like ‘just another mountain stream splashing across a few ordinary gray rocks‘. Nothing special. And technically, that was
IT WAS A fairly typical spring week along Colorado’s Front Range: snow one day, warmth the next; clear one moment, cloudy the next. As winter ebbed into spring and then slipped back into winter each day brought something new. For a wanderer on foot, it was just about perfect. Despite a busy week I
I’M A LITTLE LATE with this blog… but that’s okay: the snowstorm it covers was a little late too. Storm ‘Xylia’ (and who else dislikes the naming of regular weather systems as though they are hurricanes?) trundled through seven days ago, dropping almost two feet of snow on Golden – but for a while it