The trail into a not too recently burned patch of long leaf pine forest at Falls Lake. The bark is still visibly singed, but saplings are growing back.

Cursed with a nationwide shortage and blessed with a rampant garden, I made my own sriracha. It tastes pretty good, but the real test will involve tater tots and mayonnaise.

Virginia day flowers growing by a utility pole.

On looking down: Wildflowers along the Crabtree Creek and its tributaries

Thanks to whoever it was recommended (or at least mentioned) Matsuo Basho’s The Narrow Road to the North. I am enjoying it.

On the absurdity, and necessity, of walking in a technological age. Warning: This essay mentions bindlestiffs and name-drops Edward Abbey.

I have decided to start hiking the North Carolina Moutains-to-Sea Trail in stages over the next couple of years, and also to blog the experience on Substack: The Road to Jockey’s Ridge. Free and available for your consideration. I’ll link individual posts here as well.

Say hello to my little friend: or, contra myself on reference works and conviviality

I always wanted to write a blog post that began “Contra myself,” and now I’ve done it. Cross another one off the bucket list.

Hiked up to the high peak (2500 feet give or take) at Hanging Rock State Park last week with my daughter. From here you could see Mount Mitchell, except for all the haze. It’s pretty anyway.

If you are grilling hot dogs this weekend, consider topping them with pimiento cheese, watermelon pickle, and yellow mustard. I am completely serious, and you are welcome.