I grew up exploring Pingree Park near Poudre Canyon in northern Colorado. It’s a beautiful place, and I never thought much about the name “Pingree” even as an adult. I just accepted it as fact.

Then in 2015, Colorado State University renamed its Pingree Park Campus to CSU Mountain Campus, and I learned why.

When a much-anticipated backpacking trip gets canceled, I settle for a staycation at home. The free time invites me to slow down, open my eyes, and better appreciate the natural wonders in my own backyard.

One thing the Colorado Trail taught me, is the power of community to help a solo hiker get over the next steep climb. Sometimes you just have to ask for help, so I’m asking. Check out 12 easy ways you can support an indie author without spending a dime.

When I published No Man’s Land, I figured not everyone would like my book. But what I failed to predict was that a reader would give it a bad review because they didn’t like the person I was ten years ago.

With so much violence and unrest in the world, the river offers lessons in patience, momentum and hope.

If you’re missing someone you love, this one’s for you.

Why did I choose the title No Man’s Land for my memoir about hiking the Colorado Trail? Despite its title, this is not a book against men.

“Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.” In today’s post, I share a few thoughts about what this Rumi quote means to me.

Happy birthday, America. You know I love you, but I don’t like you right now.

At age fifty-one, I need only take a short walk outside, and look down at my feet, to feel the lingering shame of one parent’s lesson from childhood, and the positive reframing of another. In this post, I explore how we can take the best parts of a lesson and reject the worst, to parent our own kids … and ourselves.