author of books & stories with an adventurous spin
During the War of 1812, hundreds of enslaved African Americans gained their freedom on Cumberland Island by joining the ranks of the British occupier. For some, liberation was fleeting… continue reading at National Parks Magazine.
An Adventurer Finds a Similar Pull towards the Recreation Opportunities—and the Heat—in Seemingly Opposite Regions, the Southeast and Southwest U.S…. continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
It was a warm and sunny morning in early spring when we arrived at Awendaw Creek Canoe Launch, the type of day when better-known put-ins across the country would be swamped with paddlers. But we were the only two boaters in sight… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
Upon reaching Nebraska, I exhaled in relief. Every direction offered nothing but rolling hay fields, plots of corn, and patches of wildflowers. I drove through the occasional rural town, mostly empty except for a few locals chatting around pick-up trucks in the shade of grain silos… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
The Old Cahawba Archaeological Park, in Alabama, preserves over 500 years of mysterious ruins… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
Have you ever driven past a certain body of water—possibly for years—without giving it much thought? Here are some lessons for finding creative paddling options closer to home… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
Carolina Bays are elliptical lakes with a mysterious geologic origin: Driving into Bladen County, I catch my first glimpse of why I’ve come. Brief gaps in dense vegetation reveal the inky blue waters of mysterious lakes that have baffled observers for centuries… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
The middle part of this story is the best known. Learn what happened before the 1869 expedition led by John Wesley Powell down the Colorado River to the Grand Canyon… continue reading in Terrain Magazine.
Things didn’t look promising. We’d left pavement behind and I was—not exactly driving—sort of skidding my truck through a mud trough in the rain. Up ahead, a soiled hatchback made like wet clay on a pottery wheel and spun around, slogging back toward the interstate… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
The first time I heard a visitor calling for help, it came from the old ferry lake. Following the yells, I walked onto the aluminum fishing pier. Two bewildered college girls sat cross-legged on a floating platform, in the middle of this blackwater inlet of the Waccamaw River… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.