The Columbia River Gorge is 30 minutes and another world entire from my door. I’m so grateful for its infinity of exploration, and for great friends to go there with. Running, backpacking, day hiking, spelunking; with flask, memorial candle, camera that may or may not work that day; in wind, rain, mist, trails of ice: it’s all out there.
I spent the first week of November traveling between worlds, this one to others, in a number of ways. The easiest to explain is flying from the grey and fire of Portland to the gentling sun of Santa Barbara. After a week of workshop in the desert foothills, the wealth of the locals paling next to that of those scrub hills, I spent my last night in California right by the ocean. In both locales I ran, swam, explored inward and outward, and took a few photos along the way. Autumn is vastly different down there, but it is known nonetheless.