An achievement I'll be telling my grandkids about.
Florida’s Britton Hill sits at a dizzying 345 feet above sea level, towering over the flat swathes of land that make up the entirety of the Sunshine state. This peak (I’m using that term very loosely) is the lowest high point in the U.S. While Britton Hill is taller than both the Statue of Liberty and Big Ben, I’m here to confirm that it sure as heck doesn’t look or feel like it.
Read MoreThe wind picked up, howling as it buffeted the wooden sides of the cabin.
‘Adrian’
Adrian was staring past her reflection at the snowy yard surrounding the cabin.
‘Adrian, it’s going to be ok’
Read More
I had risen with the sun that morning.
The sky was pink and orange as Bucket and I set off into the Alabama hills (If you’re just joining us Bucket is my GMC Campervan). After clambering over a series of roads that rose and fell like waves in the sea, we cruised into the Lake Cheaha area of Cheaha State Park. The colors in the sky had given way to golden rays lofted down by the sun as it climbed over the surrounding mountains. My breakfast that day consisted of a banana, a Clif bar and a bug that flew into my mouth as I walked towards the trail. Ahead of me were 7.5 miles and the highest point in Alabama. I had no idea I would end up hiking quite a bit more than that.
Read MoreJack moved India slowly behind him, whispering, “Don’t move.”
Drool fell silently to the ground as the wolf took another step towards them.
Read More
I figured when going into this trip that there would be troubles along the way; that the metaphorical road would be bumpy and littered with obstacles (the literal road would be too; looking at you Mississippi). Van problems in particular seemed like a likely bridge to cross. I’ve mentioned the van’s age a few times already, but let me expand on that subject a bit. It’s twenty-four years old with over 100,000 miles on it (and more everyday). I was three when it was born out of whatever spare parts and industrial glue GMC could find. Yup, 24 years old; which in ‘car years’ is ,like, seven times that or something. What I’m getting at here is this thing is no spring chicken, but anyway, like I said, I figured there would be trouble…I just didn't figure they’d occur in the first week.
Read MoreI brought a red notebook with me when I moved to Barcelona.
I definitely didn't have any plans for it when I first packed it. It sat unused for at least the first month in Spain, but eventually I started writing in it. For some reason I began on the very last page and started working my way towards the front of the book. I filled it with ramblings and musings, small stories and vignettes.
It was a bit of a hobby I suppose. Sometimes sober, sometimes less so, I would throw on some music and begin etching out a (usually quite short) narrative in my abysmal handwriting. I've brought this notebook with me on the van trip and figured since it hasn't received much attention since I left Barcelona why not share a bit of the nonsense I concocted.
I'm going into this section of the blog with no exact plans other than transferring the writing from a few years back. Perhaps I'll comment on them, perhaps I'll add or amend parts. To each piece I'll attempt to create a fitting title and hope that you enjoy.
Read More
The sun sets o'er Shenandoah Nation Park, Skyline Drive
What they don’t tell you about blogs is that they don’t write themselves, apparently. I’ve been on the road about a month now and this is the first time I’m attempting to string some sentences together to tell you some stories.
Read More