Stories from the ridgeline
Reflections on fatherhood, faith, healing, leadership, adventure, and the spaces between expectation and reality.
August 24, 2026
The weeds had not taken over the parking lot all at once. They arrived quietly; one seed carried by the wind, one green stem pushing through a hairline crack, one neglected edge stretching a little farther across the pavement. No single plant looked powerful enough to reclaim an entire parking lot. Yet, given enough time […]
August 20, 2026
Somewhere along ten miles of trail, a conversation about faith wandered into deeper country. I don’t remember exactly what led us there. That’s often how the most honest conversations happen on a trail. You start by talking about the weather, the climb ahead, the view through the trees, or how many miles remain. Then, somewhere […]
February 2, 2026
Some days, when someone tells me they want me to be happy, I have to pause. Not because I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but because the word doesn’t quite fit the terrain I’m walking. Happiness feels like a summit word.Joy, maybe.Relief, perhaps. But happiness assumes ease, or at least resolution. There are seasons of life; […]
January 5, 2026
The Silver Screen Movies speak to me.They always have, and I suspect they always will. Stories find us when we stand at the edge of something costly. They slip past our defenses and give us language for courage before we know how to live it. They remind us of truths we already carry but haven’t […]
October 12, 2025
When the Trail Disappears It’s strange how quickly the world can vanish. One moment you’re following a well-marked trail, the crunch of gravel steady beneath your boots, the trees parting just enough to show the next turn. Then the fog rolls in (quiet as breath) and suddenly everything you trusted fades. The path you were […]
August 21, 2025
The Canyon Isn’t Silent Grief is a canyon. Wide, but not quiet. Every sound, every memory, every doubt ricochets off the walls and returns in a different form. What starts as a whisper of sadness can come back as a roar of regret. What we thought we left behind suddenly sounds like it’s still ahead. […]
August 13, 2025
When the Bikes Vanished: There was a time when a pile of bikes at someone’s house meant the neighborhood had awoken. That was our trailhead: pickup games, scraped knees on driveways, and the steady hum of collective mischief. We climbed the day together, step by sunlit step. But those piles have disappeared. Now, for many […]
August 11, 2025
The Search for Something Sacred When I was in high school, I was a Boy Scout. One summer at camp, a few friends and I decided we were going to do something bold. Something that felt half adventurous and half forbidden. We were going to try and find an old Indian burial ground. It was […]
August 2, 2025
Let Curiosity Lead the Way Some birthdays are like ridgeline pauses: quiet, reflective, a moment to take in the view. Others feel like full-on jungle treks: chaotic, electric, and alive with riddles you never saw coming. This year? It was the jungle. After a slow morning with Gracie wandering the Denver Art Museum, where brushstrokes […]
July 27, 2025
Some hikes test your legs. Others test your lungs. But the rare ones, like the climb of Torreys Peak with my daughter, test your heart. We started late and unhurried. Trusting the forecast that promised clear skies through midday, we planned to summit and descend both Grays and Torreys before the storm rolled in. We […]
