Collegiate Peaks Wilderness (Huron, Missouri, Belford, Oxford)

Grand Canyon Explorations

Western USA Road-trip 2015

Ecuador Wanderings

He takes care of his little boys.

Happy Hour!!!!

I wish beer made me as stoked as the dude on the left.

Sanitary….

Quick Trip to Needles District, Canyonlands (Utah)

Alpine-Style Ascent of Kang Yatze (21,000ft./6,400m)

Sneaking Through Spiti (Kaza to Tso Moriri via the Parang La)

Check Out the Photos

June 15th – July 1st

They say, “An idle mind is the devil’s playground,” and this phenomenon was painfully apparent during the period following our Parvati escapades. Ben had departed on his multi-day journey into the heart of Nepal, so the three musketeers were stranded once again with chocolate brackets, mango strudels, and street cappuccinos tempting them at every turn in the Israeli-dominated, laid-back streets of Old Manali. We had planned for some short down-time, but tantalizing comforts and conveniences got the best of us. I had a few caffeine-charged marathons of blog-jotting and picture-sorting, but I easily transitioned back into grilled-cheese cook-offs and movie binging when I ran out of fuel. We became such regulars at our favorite German bakery location that the man behind the counter, RJ, hooked it up fat on our last visit (but I guess a few free coffees and chocolate balls is nothing compared to the loot we dropped during eight days of lethargic lounging). It didn’t help that the World Cup had just started, and because of the time difference in Brazil, the first game of the day didn’t kick-off until 9:30pm. We would have to wait around the hazy hashish dens until 3:30am for the last game to even start. Because most of the customers were too blazed or sleepy to stay up this long, the restaurants usually wrapped it up before the final scores were in. The only night we had an opportunity to catch the American team play, we plowed through some nonsense matches, were denied pizza that we waited two hours for, and eventually, were shut-out of every establishment in town because they either forgot to pay their cable bill, the electricity couldn’t hold a steady flow, or the businesses couldn’t keep enough people conscious or interested in the game. The night came to a disappointing end in our last viable hang-out spot surrounded by half a dozen other disgruntled Americans (more than we had run across in months). A rainstorm had ruined any chance of watching the match, and we were all forced to trudge through the soaking streets in search of refuge at our hotels. These kinds of late-nights obviously completely impeded any chance at a normal sleep schedule, and it was a miracle we even escaped the time-squandering black-hole.

Parang La (Spiti to Ladakh)

Parvati Valley Shit-Show

Check Out the Photos

May – June 2014

No strictly scheduled, 28-day outdoor course would be complete without a proper chill-fest afterwards, and the few days following graduation were perfectly spent doing absolutely nothing back in Rishikesh. Sadly, Dhruv, a joyful dude with a contagious laugh, had to get back to Delhi immediately for work, but the majority of our core-group was able to post-up above the Ganga and unwind. Luckily, I will most likely be seeing him again because he serves as a program director at the Himalayan Outward Bound, and I would be honored to give my time to the organization and kids. I whole-heartedly believe that exposing children to the wonders of nature is one of the most positive things you can do for them; it is an opportunity for them to leave behind their everyday external influences and allow the simplicity of nature to influence their bodies and minds. It didn’t take us long to kick the early-rising schedule of the course, but anytime we heard the familiar sound of a whistle of the clinkity clank of pots and pans, our minds told us it was time for tea or a meal. We decided to be ambitious and squeeze in a crazy low-budget rafting trip before our buddy Ez, and an animated Argentinean from the basic course, zoomed off to Nepal to conquer the three passes In Sagarmatha. It was much more rough and thrilling than I could have imagined after observing the smooth waters that flow through the central parts of the tourist district, but I struggled not to vomit after a night of celebratory inebriation centered around Eminem marathons and sloppy freestyle sessions. Victor, one of my favorite classmates, happened to be a huge fan of Mr. Mathers, so he was the perfect companion to bust flows with once the booze loosened us up a bit. In-between pizza-binging, we also managed to attempt the “momo challenge” for a second time. Lucas and I came up with this remarkable gut-test in Kathmandu, where a plate of street momos, basically dumplings with a superior name, costs only $.50. The goal is to consume one-hundred of these bad-boys before throwing in the towel. We failed miserably the first time around, so it was imperative to try again. After committing to the marathon of gluttony, we realized that Rishikesh wasn’t the best location for the competition (because of its religious significance, the food is mostly vegetarian), and there weren’t even many places that served momos, so the options were limited. We went for it anyway, and the owners of a tiny hole-in-the-wall refused all business for the night while we blasted tunes and scarfed cabbage wrapped in dough by the plate of ten. When a group of travelers stopped by and asked what we were doing and we told them we were Americans, they responded, “that makes sense, only Americans would have an eating competition.” They tasted alright at first, but I was soon shoving four or five in my mouth at a time just to get them down. Eventually, they were too undesirable to carry on. Lucas gulped eighty-three, the most by far, but even he was too turned-off by the bland, unexciting flavor. We called it just in time, because the owners started accusing us of taking drugs (not true at all), but I guess he assumed that only someone on substances would attempt something so ridiculous. Another challenge, no victor, but it definitely won’t be the last! The deed has to be done. The heat was rising in the town nestled in the foothills, so we departed from our buddies and traveled further north into the green, lush state of Himachal Pradesh.

Playing in the Snow: Advanced Mountaineering Training (NIM 146)

Check Out the Photos

The deliciously slow-paced months of low-key exploration and relaxation following last year’s intensive trekking season in Nepal will forever stick out in my mind as one of the most joyous and peaceful periods of my current hobo-sapien lifestyle. Since officially beginning my travel-binge in the fall of 2011, I have had one major objective in mind: explore as much back-country trail as possible. When I first left home, I had just wrapped up a month-long course in wilderness survival and felt ready to stretch this period of freedom and avoidance of responsibility as long as possible by steering clear of the high cost of luxuries and comforts in towns and cities (and by the end of my stay in the States I was pretty damn sick of city-life). Nature was primarily my way of getting to know the countries I visited. I also was reluctant to idly loiter around any tourist hot-spot too long because I felt like it was unproductive, but after a few months of some of the most intensive high-altitude, rough-going conditions I have ever faced, I was finally prepared for backpackistan. I let go of my preconceived judgments of the average traveler’s routine and dove in head-first. Months of beach-combing, taste-testing, booze-indulgence, ranting, sight-seeing, and above all, connecting with incredible human-beings gave me more joy than I ever could have imagined. My extended vaction-holiday from my long-term travels gave me the opportunity to just go with the flow and enjoy the vast variety of characters and settings that surrounded me on any given day. After almost two unforgettable months in south India, Lucas and I headed across the ocean to spend one month in the Andaman Islands and another in Sri Lanka. There are many stories to tell of all of these wonderful places, but frankly I was too much in the moment during these euphoric months to even bother writing. Maybe I’ll catch up in the future…. Eventually, I remembered my true reason (or excuse) for lurking around the Indian subcontinent and had to jet back to Delhi and transition back into my old ways. I had a seat in the Advanced Mountaineering Course at the Nehru Institute of Mountaineering based out of Uttarakashi, Uttarakhand. The start date was April 23rd. It was time to be a mountain-man again.