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From the field.
Twenty-six days on the Pacific Crest
Started in Campo with eleven pounds on my back. Ended Kennedy Meadows with new shoes, a beard, and a healthy distrust of bears.
32.6079° N, 116.4709° W
03 . 14 . 2026
Eight passes, one bike, no plan
The Trans-America Trail isn't a road. It's a rumor passed between riders. Here's what I found between Tennessee and Oregon.
35.9606° N, 83.9207° W
02 . 28 . 2026
Down to a hundred feet in Bonaire
A wreck, a turtle the size of a card table, and the strange acoustic quiet of being properly weightless.
12.1784° N, 68.2385° W
02 . 09 . 2026