“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 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 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 at Men’s Journal!