Harmony & Hope


Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe. —Anatole France


The impulse to travel is one of the hopeful symptoms of life. —Agnes Repplier


Politicians wanted to mine the Grand Canyon for zinc and copper, and Theodore Roosevelt said, ‘No.’ —Douglas Brinkley

A Vote For Dave


After twenty-four days and six seven Western states, I came home a few nights ago, the last miles cloaked in classic Oregon fog ‘n rain. What a great trip! My friend Ulrich and I enjoyed front row Toyota seats to landscapes that changed daily. We stopped in towns that cling to life by a thread, and in busted ones that couldn’t. I think we saw every color of rock and bush and tree and rusted automobile, all of them on a wide, bright screen.

When we needed them, kind people saved the day with their music and stories, and character. We never had a bad day.

On our next-to-last evening we stayed in a back room at a haunted bar in Goldfield, Nevada. That’s where I met Dave, a regular customer and genuinely friendly fellow who is rumored to be the favorite in the next mayoral election. Dave also happens to be a Basset hound, but that’s beside the point.

Until that night I’d kept The News at bay—only a couple of sports pages and an accidental glance at a TV had sullied that—and I can tell you, I traveled with a clearer mind and heart. But Dave’s motives were quickly and utterly convincing—how can there ever be scandal or rumors when a candidate’s only desires are sleep, pizza crusts, and affection? A few rubs of Dave’s big soft ears sealed the deal for me.

You can bet I’ll hesitate a second or two when I mark my ballot.

I love a dog. He does nothing for political reasons.Will Rogers


In the American Southwest, narrow may be found almost anywhere.

AZ-1025-2012-040 ON1.jpg

A narrow band of sunset light.

UT-1011-2012-194 ON1.jpg

A sandstone canyon, narrowing in on itself.

UT-1018-2012-010 ON1.jpg

Time and water flowing through a gooseneck.

Under The Big Sky


Montana’s name is derived from the Spanish word for mountain, and while it has those in abundance many know it by its unofficial nickname—Big Sky Country. It’s the fourth largest state, but ranks near the bottom in population, and there are long stretches of empty on the way from one town to the next, and plenty of room for lonesome.



The Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River, in the Grand Canyon
of the Yellowstone. Photographed from Uncle Tom’s Trail.

Open Water

A lone coot, at Oregon's Malheur Natl. Wildlife Refuge
A lone coot, at Oregon’s Malheur Natl. Wildlife Refuge


“Many a trip continues long after
movement in time and space have ceased.”
—John Steinbeck

Now, Where Was I?

Nature is methodically reclaiming a stone barn at Candlewyck.

I began posting photos from our May-June visit to England about two weeks ago, but then I was distracted by the flower garden and one thing or another, and lost my way. The Cumbria Way, to be exact. And that certainly wouldn’t be proper, as they say in Ulverston, the traditional starting point for the walk northward to Carlisle.

We stayed two nights in Ulverston (and should have booked another) but nevertheless enjoyed the town. Candlewyck was the first of several B&Bs that were home for us, and with its edge-of-town location (the Cumbria Way is just a few hundred meters up the lane) was a quiet precursor for the friendliness we’d find everywhere on our visit.

Herdwick sheep are an icon on the Cumbrian landscape.