A Traveller’s Eye, A Thinker’s Heart
I like to tell stories. I like to take photos.
And I like to share them. Enjoy.
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ON THE CORNER IN WINSLOW
I was standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona. Seriously, I was! I had just finished watching the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles and got off the train in Winslow. My Peace Corps mate, Denny Hildreth, lived in Winslow and worked for the US Forest Service. He was no girl in a flatbed Ford slowin’
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OLYMPIC SERENDIPITY
I was on an LA-bound Amtrak train out of Salt Lake City in July 1984 and found the snack bar. I got a beer and sat next to some men who were comparing the Olympic tickets they had: track and field, gymnastics, swimming. They had event calendars spread out on the table and had marked
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ABOARD THE VICTORIA
When the Costa Rican National Park Service asked if I could join a group of American tourists on a cruise on a Swedish schooner to Parque Nacional Isla del Coco, I just couldn’t refuse. The Park Service always required that a representative join groups to the Island and my name came up on the list.
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SELVA LACANDONA – NO PLACE FOR A GRINGO
Day 1 – 28 March 1981Lagos de Montebello to Huistan on the Rio Delores They were the best tortilla I had ever eaten. Made of freshly ground corn, they were thick, yet not tough and still warm. I folded one and used it as a spoon to scoop up the scrambled eggs served in a
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California Odyssey
In December of 1979, the road once again called me. It was a time to head west, a time for vagabonding, a time to visit my birthplace and meet with my grandfather and father after 11 years of absence. My travels would take me to the Pacific coast, to Southern California, to the San Jacinto
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AT THE RAILS IN GUAPILES
I was 21 and found myself pressed against the rough timber rails of a makeshift arena in Guápiles, the Caribbean heat clinging to everything. It was August 1981, and I’d wandered into a Tico-style bullfight with no real understanding of what I was about to see—only that the crowd was electric, loud, and unmistakably local.
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BIG BEAVER TRAIL
Hiked in August 1980 while I was working as a park ranger at the North Cascades National Park. Noted for its old-growth forest.
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DOWN UPON THE SUWANNEE RIVER
Spring Break. April 1980 Spring break is a time to head south and party on some Florida beach. After weathering a Wisconsin winter, I had Spring fever, no doubt about it. But I wasn’t keen about the beach party scene. So some mates and I decided to go canoeing in Georgia’s Okefenokee Swamp. My hometown
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BAJA’S RED CARPET
Just say the word. Baja. Think of towering cordon cacti, grotesque elephant trees and winding boojum trees. Baja. Imagine long-tailed man of war birds, sailing pelicans and plummeting brown footed boobies. Baja. Dream about a remote wilderness peninsula 1280 kilometers long where the footprints of man are as scarce as rainfall. Baja. The very name
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