Many people told me that coming back to the place you left after a journey like mine would be hard. I didn’t really believe them—I love Montana, and my tribe there. But they were right. I left a life in New Zealand: friends of the soul kind, interesting work, endless adventures, mountains that imprinted their ridge lines on my heart. I grieved for leaving it, wondered how I could ever be as happy or fulfilled again.
From cowboy hats, jeans, and sandals, to whiskey and dance parties, Montana weddings are unique–and FUN. A very good friend of ours got married on Flathead Lake last weekend, and we took the chance to go all out to celebrate.
Q: What happens when you get together three stand-up paddleboarders (including two beginners), one duckier, and one packrafter with a leaky craft for a post-work float through Missoula on the Clark Fork river in mid-August?
Coming back to the same place after seven months of a life-changing, life-expanding, mind-opening journey is weird, to say the least. It makes those months seem like a dream—a waking one, but still a dream. Continue reading
Above us, Naomi slowly untangled her skis, poles, and limbs, and picked herself up from a snowy crash high on the east face of Single Cone. Below in the distance, the lifts had closed on the Remarkables ski field. The sun was setting, and the cold wind that had hounded us all day had begun howling again. She carefully skied down to us.
“I think I tore something in my knee,” she gasped out.
This is not about how women skiers and riders are as good as men. This is not about how we’re better. This is not about comparison at all. This is about celebrating the fact that we live in a new era of winters where there are so many more women on the slopes, in the parks, and in the backcountry that we can honor our strengths on their own. Continue reading
I have discovered that skiing is the only time when I am absolutely and completely in the moment. I don’t think ahead to tonight, think back to yesterday, analyze that conversation, worry about whatever it is I’ve found to worry about that day. Continue reading
I passed a marker the other day. Not a marker on a trail or a road, but a marker in my mind. I have more time behind me now than I have in front of me on this journey. Continue reading