These posts for the next week or so are from a recent backpacking trip I made on the PCT with my dear friend Brad Shaffer. The post titles are taken from the great climber Fred Beckey from his Cascade Alpine Guide which… Read More ›
Memoir
The vertical pattern relief
I took the 530 east off 5 toward Darrington, past the town Oso where they had that landslide in 2014 — but the fog came down at Union Slough and though the sun was up it made everything turn ghostly,… Read More ›
Frou-frou foxes in midsummer fires
I dropped the kids off at theater camp with the other awkward-looking children not cut out for sports, pale and withdrawn, future artists: and Charlotte’s outfit, a riot of stripes and patterns — she’s still doing that thing where she… Read More ›
The pink question mark of chance
I asked Dawn if she wants to pet the dog to please do it outside because she’s shedding again and I have to vacuum like every day, and though it’s only the den, it fills the canister in just one… Read More ›
Touched by autumn’s finger
A low pressure system came down from British Columbia, had us in a headlock all week, the house around 60 with the windows open in the morning, you could almost see your breath. I was out in the dark one… Read More ›
Up Red Marble Quarry Road, Waitts Lake, Washington
I thought it was the shadow of a butterfly but it was just a leaf falling, they’ve started gathering on the ground. More days in the hammock with just the sound of wind chimes and jets, birds, kids: realizing I… Read More ›
What I learned giving speeches when I was 12
In last week’s Democratic National Convention comedian Sarah Silverman quoted her shrink, who said ‘we don’t get what we want, we get what we think we deserve.’ I don’t remember why I chose to compete in an oratorical contest when I… Read More ›
How the wind played us like an instrument that night
The morning feeding ritual at Mike’s, two dogs, two cats, the quiet crunching of animals chewing, a dishwasher churning, the bathroom fan, the soothing sound of it like rain hitting the roof, going down the drain spouts into the ground:… Read More ›
High-profile blogger launches attack on Basset Hound owners
The problem with Basset Hounds is they suck. If you’re a Basset lover, I’m not sorry for writing this, I’m sorry for you. Right now as you’re reading this there’s probably something you need to clean or repair, something that got… Read More ›
Three hundred and seventy-four words
Lily texts me, something like Dad, where’s the money you gave me for dinner?, which pisses me off and I write back right away, the immediacy of it, YOU TELL ME where the money is (I gave it to you,… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 