writing & photography with an adventurous spin
The first time I spotted a sign for Awendaw Creek was a few years before we went paddling there. We were doing what most visitors do in this part of South Carolina’s Low Country, zipping 70 mph down Highway 17 through a box canyon of longleaf pine trees… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
We considered it more of a hiking trip,” said the mysterious raft guide. “We looked at the river as an obstacle to going hiking.”
“Wait,” I said. “Did you just say hiking?”… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
How to explore the western rivers and wilderness on the route of legendary explorer John Wesley Powell… continue reading at Outside Online!
Hi I’m Gary! I’m old and don’t take hills too well … You can only get in me via the passenger door … Please put a bit of oil in me before you drive me … I’ve got a nasty little leak... continue reading about the Shuttle Vehicle Wall of Shame at Men’s Journal!
High noon on a hot summer afternoon in the Reno suburbs and I’m getting a lot of looks. It’s probably my odd appearance. Chaco sandals. Sunburned calves. Sky blue board shorts. Bright green paddling shirt with the hoodie pulled over a visor. When combined with a few days of boater stubble and reflective sunglasses, I’ve been told I resemble an aquatic version of the 1980s FBI Unabomber sketch… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog!
The view was startling. By standing on an old stone wall, in a clearing just off the gravel shuttle road, Big Piney Creek was visible far below. It was making one of those photogenic meanders through the Ozarks, a nearly circular 180, like the famous Horseshoe Bend in Arizona… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries!
“I’ll tell you where that treasure is,” declared a local fella at the bar. Me and my best buddies were in the mountains of Colorado. And our conversation about this hidden treasure had all the implications of a cowboy film… continue reading at Men’s Journal.
As I push off from Corn Creek into the clear blue waters of the Salmon River, I feel that rush of excitement that comes with paddling a new river. The canyon hillsides mix dark metamorphic outcrops with tall stands of pine and green grasses, making a mid-July fade into gold… continue reading at the Duct Tape Diaries blog!
I sort of knew what I was searching for and sort of didn’t. After rowing around a bend in the Green River, Rock House Canyon opened dramatically ahead. I tied my raft to shore and walked up a dry creek bed. Above rose buttes and fins of orange-brown rock, part of the Green River Formation… continue reading about Desolation Canyon on The Eddy blog.
VHWIRRRR, through dense fog, the sound of an approaching motorboat rises. I swivel my head left and right, listening closely to place the direction. There’s no way they’ll see me at speed, I realize, slightly panicked… continue reading about Bike-rafting to Cumberland Island at Men’s Journal!