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How the Worst Crag Dog Saved My Life
In the thirty-fourth year of my life, I walked into a ring of oak trees in the foothills west of Carbondale, Colorado, to kill myself. Pixelated by panic under a bright autumn sun, I was fresh off a rapid taper of the final psychiatric medication I would (or will) ever take, the antidepressant nortriptyline. It had plunged me into a fat, apathetic fog that left my mouth dry and heart palpitating each time I stood up.
Why Climbing 14ers is Worth Your Time
Rock climbers have long scoffed at the 14er-bagging goal as fodder for ‘hikers’ and old men who fancy themselves mountaineers after a summer tick of Whitney. They’re wrong, and here’s why.