The experience I had in Arches National Park made me realize this: that I’m happier when I’m interacting with a natural environment than I am when I’m doing anything else. That’s a profound thing, really – to know what makes you happy.
Arches National Park
I found a trail description that seemed to be everything I wanted: Difficult. Longest of the trails. Includes Double O Arch, Landscape Arch, and primitive trail. The name of the trail? Devil’s Garden. It sounded weird and creepy and perfect.
Capitol Reef National Park
You’ll realize that God does exist; that a man can find prosciutto in the desert; that there is a meaning to this wild, crazy life. You’ll find coffee: real, good, coffee. You’ll buy a fresh, organic avocado. And then, you’ll continue driving to Capitol Reef National Park.
Bryce Canyon National Park
Bryce Canyon National Park is really quite small compared to some of the other parks I visited this summer. The hubristic (read: stupid, naïve) part of me was tempted to try to run all of the trails in the park during the two days I was there... So, I laced up my trail runners, filled up my water bottle, and descended into the canyon.
Zion National Park
My summer of traveling across the country has taught me that even the ruthless, rugged mountains have their own stories; that we can have an intimate relationship with the world we live in; that it, like us, is fragile; that we must treat it well.
Mount Rainier National Park
I’ve come to enjoy my trips to America’s national parks not only because they’re these beautiful, sacred places, but because they’ve consistently provided me with an opportunity to get away from some of the chaos of living in a city. They’ve become places where I can slow things down a bit and clear my mind.
Olympic National Park
Though Olympic is special for more reasons than one, the one, unique feature of Olympic that’s always stood out to me is the park’s Pacific coastline: the way that the old-growth forests seem to spill out onto the shore, with the coast’s rocky cliffs looking down to haystacks and sandy beaches.
North Cascades National Park
Visiting North Cascades National Park was proof that you don’t need to get on an airplane or drive across state lines to see something amazing. Climbing into the mountains in the North Cascades was truly incredible; I felt like I had teleported into another country after hiking for less than an hour.
Grand Teton National Park
I was balancing on a log, hanging over a creek, within thirty feet of an animal that could maul me if it decided it wanted to. Do mooses attack people? What is the plural form of “moose,” anyways? Meese? Ignorance and Stupidity.
Rocky Mountain National Park
And I was down. I was passed out in a boulder field on one of the tallest mountains in one of the most remote places in Rocky Mountain National Park. Short of a search and rescue team combing the mountain, there was no shot of me receiving any sort of outside help.
Yellowstone National Park
“Dude, we should get you on a horse in Yellowstone.” Fast-forward a few weeks, and Nick and I are boarding a red-eye flight headed for Bozeman, Montana.
Yosemite National Park
You’ve gotta learn to make do with what you’ve got; you’ve gotta be flexible; you’ve gotta learn not to get too attached to anything. And so, when a coastal storm destroyed some of the ports in the Channel Islands, de-railing my plans in the park, I didn’t cancel my flight. Instead, I rented a car. I made a new plan. I was driving to Yosemite National Park.
Glacier National Park (Part II)
We were paddling twice as hard and barely moving through the water. The glassy surface we’d started with was shattered into choppy, rough water. And suddenly, the concerns we’d had the night before – that the weather might turn against us and leave us unable to make it back to our car – started to feel all too real.
Glacier National Park (Part I)
Uhh, Matt… There’s a bear. And, sure enough, over my shoulder, there was a massive brown bear walking down the trail towards Nick and my pack. I should have known that the first time I saw a bear up close I would be in the middle of peeing.
Joshua Tree National Park
So, we’re talking about a casual 40 or 50-mile, three-day backpacking trip through the Mojave Desert into the Joshua Tree Wilderness… Dear God, I thought to myself, remembering how miserable it was to run out of water on a three-day, 30-mile backpacking trip into the Saguaro Desert only two weeks earlier.
The Sky Islands of Saguaro
I ran out of water about a mile from Manning Camp. My premonition about this trip suddenly becomes fulfilled: I’m wandering through the desert, alone, looking for water. The only way to water is to keep climbing, I tell myself. And I keep going.
On My Way to Saguaro
As this trip has been approaching, there’s been this image that’s been burned in my mind: I’m walking through the desert; my sunburnt skin is streaked with salt and sunscreen; I’ve run out of water, so that’s what I’m looking for, now; and I’m alone. Every time I’ve thought about the Saguaro Wilderness, that’s the image that comes to mind.
Water, and Other Things More Likely to Kill You
Note to self: both mountain lions and black bears are afraid of tall shirts. I start wondering if what I scream loudly at the approaching mountain lion or black bear is important... Is there a safe word, or something? I notice that they don't have any advice for what to do if a mountain lion actually attacks...
An Origin Story: The National Parks Project
Here I am: wholly committed to the less than sexy summer plan of backpacking through seventeen of America's National Parks. So, how did I wind up here?