We Interrupt Your Regular Overdue Winter Break Content to Give You This Unimportant Message, specifically a shortish story about a psychiatrist and I haven’t really published fiction here in a really long time so here is the short story, for your reading pleasure. Or not if you do not enjoy the story. But here it […]Read more "Psychiatrics, Chapter One: A Study in Trust; Patient-Psychiatrist Relationships"
I wanted it to be warm. It’s Death Valley, the warmest place on Earth, the valley plunged between two ten thousand foot tall mountain ranges where the crust is thin and the warmth of the Earth’s mantel seeps into the air, trapped by the mountains. It has been above one hundred thirty degrees Farenheit here. […]Read more "Foodless Near Furnace Creek"
I wake at sunrise, but I always do that, because I have no tent. It’s an unusually warm morning, almost 10 C, and I pad around my camp, staring up at the canyon walls. The spring, coated in green algae, the animal bones, where every creature this side of the Panamints come to eat and […]Read more "Over the Panamints"
It’s frigid when I wake up, a thin layer of frost formed over my sleeping bag and mat. I’m sore, having rolled off of my sleeping mat onto the ground sometime in the night. I stretch, surveying my kingdom, my bike on its side below a rather out of place, decidedly none desertish tree. Breakfast, […]Read more "Day Six: On to the Roadless Canyons and the Flooded Valleys"
The night is miserable. I sleep well until about 3:48 am, when the wind wakes me up, battering against the drying tent shell, which I could still perhaps use as a bivvy. The rain fly, also wet but stupidly stuffed into the tent sack as a paperweight, is on top but the wind is intent […]Read more "Headwinds and Hannukah in the Great Basin (or Mojave)"
In the morning my water bottles are frozen, even though I have taken them into the tent with me. My bike is coated in frost and small shards of ice where water once was. I break camp sluggishly, the frigid mountain air warming only slightly as the sun rises over the still rotating windmills. A […]Read more "Fuck You Winter Storm Europa, Back to the Desert I Guess"
I wake up early, already accustomed to sleeping on the ground, the warm bed in Lancaster feeling almost out of place. But of course it’s easier to linger in a warm bed with ELECTRICITY (sleep is what happens in nature after all), and after logging onto Instagram and reading and even attempting valiantly to catch […]Read more "The Desert Isn’t the Desert Without Freezing Rain, Cement Plants, Wind, and Lost Credit Cards"