Fall’s moody shadows, pine needles, leaves: all that starts from above one day will drop, past the mountain peaks Jack Kerouac walked, they probably looked the same to him too, it’s hard to believe those photos of people in the… Read More ›
cascades
Climbing cocks, steep peaks, dry tools (2)
Brad and I camp in the snow by an abandoned hunter’s cabin up Black Canyon with my dog Ginger, who puts her nose in Brad’s eye and causes it to swell up like a walnut because Brad’s convinced there’s foreign… Read More ›
Climbing cocks, steep peaks, dry tools
When I look deep inside myself to remember why I joined the Mountaineers climbing club, the only reason I can come up with is that I’m cocky. It may be a male-thing, too. I had already climbed Mount Rainier, which… Read More ›
Fourth Creek Trail Junction
We’re supposed to recreate the hiking-bonding moment with Charlotte, the same one I had with Lily, but we can’t because of a funeral, and I wind up taking both girls instead. That means carrying three sleeping bags, the tent, extra… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 