I was standing on a granite ridge in the Lake District three years ago, watching a group of hikers try to “embrace the autumn colors” …
I remember sitting in the dust of a dry riverbed in Amboseli, watching a group of bulls drift away from the main line, and it …
Most “complete guide to bikepacking” articles I see online look like a catalog for a high-end outdoor boutique, filled with shiny carbon fiber components and …
I remember sitting in a damp bivvy bag in the Cairngorms, listening to the wind tear at the flysheet and realizing that my “lightweight” setup …
I once watched a group of hikers attempt a ridge traverse in the high heat of the Pyrenees, all of them clad in “high-tech” compression …
I once spent three hours in a damp valley near the Cairngorms, listening to the rhythmic, heavy tearing of nylon, only to realize a badger …
I’ve spent enough time on the hills to know that most “complete guide to lightweight backpacking” articles are just glorified shopping lists designed to make …
I’ve spent twenty-two years watching people mistake “wild” for “careless,” and nothing irritates me more than seeing a scorched patch of earth left behind because …
I remember standing on a sodden ridge in the Cairngorms, watching a group of “enthusiastic” hikers try to navigate a scree slope in heavy, leather …
I remember a group in the Cairngorms back in 2014—mist rolling in thick as wool, visibility dropping to five meters, and the group leader staring …