As a result of hanging around Colorado hardman Nick Duttle, I found a new passion.
Though I hated hiking as a child, I’ve loved the mountains. Summiting a really far object covered in freezing misery was never an inspiring thought until this morning, when I realized something.
The real catch to mountains is in the details, and the simplicity.
There are pretty flowers, sloping meadows full of marmots, and talus. (Since I was a floppy little girl living on the California coast, my mom would take me to find shells in the barriers, and I loved the haphazardly large and reckless hops over negative spaces.)