I see Facebook posts mourning children. And the immediate response from those who side with killers. I grow weary of these men. Bearded and begutted, bellies hanging low over the belt with the weight of years conforming to stereotype. Words, so meaningless, thrown into the wind of social media. Rights. Constitution. Patriotism. Men whose identities have become so wrapped around a constructed narrative they can no longer question it.
Uncomfortable ghosts haunt our dreams, wearing us down. We haze their faces across memory, bright again every time we add to their ranks.
Now I grew up most of my life in Nevada, and I deeply love my state. Nevada also happens to be home to one of the least visited National Parks in the contiguous United States--Great Basin National Park--an unofficial starting point for the east-west journey along the Loneliest Highway in America, Highway 50. Highway 50... Continue Reading →
When the first snows start to bury the Sierras, one need not retreat to the gym. To the north of Reno, near Pyramid Lake, lies Pig Rock--a volcanic outcropping in the desert that stays warm enough to offer shredded tips all winter. If the temperatures outside are chilly to frozen, the wall stays in the... Continue Reading →