Running the Ridge

Through the fog they come, through the early morning mist: two hundred loping crusaders, steely-eyed and sweat-soaked, rushing forward like a herd of wild horses – side-stepping boulders, hurdling fallen logs, and propelling themselves, chests heaving, through the steep and rocky terrain.

Three Days, Three Rivers

The river was huge. Swollen and discolored from the previous night's rainfall, it looked like a swirling sea of chocolate milk. As I stepped into the water and felt the current against my legs, the first of what would be several visitations from the dreaded anxiety demons sent a violent shudder through my body.

"Cold?" my friend Shawn asked from inside the raft, where he was tying down the last of our gear.

A Yellowstone Winter

It’s deep winter in Yellowstone and the evening air is crisp and still. My breath hangs in the last weak rays of the sun which is setting behind the trees to the west. The crusty snow creaks under my boots. Occasionally, I break through to deep fluff and fight back to the top. I stop to listen. Absolute silence. The temperature is dropping so fast that all the forest seems to be holding its breath. I am near the road now and relish the thought of a warm car. In winter, simple pleasures become lavish delights.

Give Us Our Dailey Wind

Sure, you could drive north to Martinsdale or Canyon Ferry Lake, east to Harrison Reservoir, or south to Ennis or Hebgen Lakes and probably find wind. A wind phone service will even tell you how hard it’s blowing at some of those places. But ask Bozeman windsurfers what their favorite lake is, the one they head to for morning thermals, evening sessions, and every puff of wind in between, and they’ll say Dailey.


As you hike slowly up through the deep snow, the cold air stinging your face, you hear a CRRRAAACK so loud and deep it echoes down the canyon and shakes the new snow off the trees. You turn to move, but, before you can, you’re tumbling. Down and down the slope in a tidal wave of ice and snow chunks. You’re thrown about like a shoe in the dryer. If you don’t smash into rocks and trees you may be crushed by the ice chunks falling with you. When you stop, if you’re still alive, you’ll likely suffocate with the tons of concretelike snow compacted all around you.

Dancing on Ice

For a moment, a brief, dark, terrifying moment, I am trapped under ice.

My breathing accelerates, my heart pounds, every muscle in my body goes rigid. The blood roars through my veins like a river undammed. I’m looking upward at a vast, impenetrable sheet of bluish-white; but I see nothing, feel nothing. There is only a paralyzing coldness; a deep, intense, overwhelming sense of dread.

Stepping Into the Wild

As if in a dream, I’m gliding down a snowfield, the silence caressed by the gentle sound of the powder snow moving beneath my feet. The slope is so steep that, in reality, I’m falling, but the pillow of snow on which I’m balanced, and the shear volume of snow, cushions all hazards.

Yellowstone Rendezvous

Best skiing of the year.

Fire Myths

It's a myth that wildfires burn with greater ferocity in wilderness areas than in population zones. That the reverse is true is another myth. What is certain when it comes to wildfire is that environmental elements like wind and drought conditions, along with vegetation, land-management practices, and an area's fire history are the keys to its capacity to burn. These factors weave a complex web, leaving us with very few absolutes or easy explanations—and a whole lot of myths.

Myth: Wildfire is a purely destructive force.

Building Community, One Bike at a Time

All about Strong Frames.


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