This story originally appeared in The Gulch Magazine Issue 10. “Look Mr. Whiskers – we found your name again!” We stop to examine another trailside inscription along the sandstone flanking Navajo Mountain. Earlier this spring, my companions Steve and a husky mutt named Phil joined me on a backpacking trip circumnavigating Navajo Mountain. Equipped with a …
During a camping trip to Yosemite with my Dad our food supplies started getting low. We couldn’t stomach another round of beef or chicken ramen powder. So I came up with my first-ever truly dirtbag solution. From our camp spot, I walked over to the Tuolumne Meadows general store café and hit the condiments table. …
The Path Of Light was originally published in The Gulch Magazine Issue 8. Subscribe to keep these stories alive! John Wetherill near Rainbow Bridge in 1923. Courtesy of Harvey Leake. Ch-ch-ch-ch-cha. The gears of my Jeep grind to a stop as I attempt to reverse out of my U-turn in the middle of the two-lane …
This story is published in issue 7 of The Gulch. Subscribe here. Like a lone desert tower, I sit on the red dirt, eyeing a storm over Navajo Mountain. It’s January, a cold and dark time to be out camping, even in the desert, but I cannot resist any opportunity for quixotic exploration across …
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The interminable intervals of green trees and worn farmhouses below heavyset clouds along Interstate 91 in Vermont tugged at the tears buried in my eyes. Behind them sit visions of long runs beneath 12,000 foot peaks on dry dusty eastern sierra roads when Gabe would paint pictures of his home state and mountains, …
The mountains strengthened her legs, lungs heart. But the desert, it strengthened her soul. It’s silence sang loudly and it’s dirt danced wildly around her. The one place the kept calling her back. She cracked open the windows and let the summer rain inside and set her spirit free. There were burritos to make… A …
I wanted to lay down on the trail to feel the beautiful strangeness of it all–the cold snow under my back, warm sun kissing my cheeks, limbs kicking the sky and lungs laughing at the irony. I rolled around with the dogs in simple ecstasy, knowing life would never be the same. And then I …
Morgan Sjogren ➸ Running Bum 