Saying Goodbye

11873734_10153259138319877_880496385833480022_nI said goodbye to my girl yesterday, eight years after we met in the Missoula pound. She was three years old then, and huge. Her papers listed her as a lab/husky/shepherd/pointer, which is pound-speak for “giant mutt.” I’m convinced she was part wolf. Continue reading


Why Ski Films Never Show Mission Fail

Skinning 3Because mission fail sucks. That’s why.

You know what I’m talking about: it’s the best powder day to date and you spend it digging your car out from the road you had no business driving up in the first place without chains or much clearance to speak of. It’s digging your sled out of a tree well—or crashing it somewhere more creative, requiring elaborate pulley systems and the rest of your daylight hours to rescue it.

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