Stories from the ridgeline
Reflections on fatherhood, faith, healing, leadership, adventure, and the spaces between expectation and reality.
October 3, 2026
A few summers ago, I visited Banff National Park and stood at the water’s edge of Lake Louise and Moraine Lake. Frigid, teal water stretched out beneath towering mountains. Both lakes draw water from glacial melt, and standing beside them, I found the beauty breathtaking. Magnificent. But what stayed with me was the thought of […]
September 9, 2026
Some questions don’t feel like questions at all. They feel like that moment on a trail when the ground changes beneath your feet; solid dirt giving way to loose scree. You stop, not because you’re tired, but because something underneath you has shifted. This was one of those questions for me: What good is empathy […]
September 7, 2026
Above the Tree Line In 2023, my daughter Anna and I stood on the summit of Torreys Peak in Colorado. We had spent hours climbing toward that moment. The trail had been clear, our bodies felt strong, and when we finally stepped onto the summit, we had what every climber works for: the view, the […]
September 3, 2026
I spent most of the day cleaning my house. Not the ordinary kind of cleaning where you wipe down the counters, run the vacuum, and feel satisfied because everything smells faintly like lemon. I was purging. I opened drawers I had ignored, pulled boxes from forgotten corners, and decided what still belonged in my life. […]
August 30, 2026
I have carried a trauma bag for years. It goes with me on adventures because I’ve learned that the wilderness rarely asks permission before something goes wrong. Rivers change. Rocks move. People fall. Bones break. Kayaks flip. Weather turns. A peaceful afternoon can become an emergency in seconds. So I prepare. Inside the bag are […]
August 28, 2026
When the Old Trail Still Feels Like Home I’ve hiked trails enough times that I no longer have to think much about them. I know where the roots cross the path, where the rock gets slick near the creek, which switchback steals my breath, and where the trees finally open enough to see the ridge. […]
August 26, 2026
Sometimes someone says something so simple that it stops you in your tracks. There’s no polished language, carefully constructed insight, or attempt to sound profound. Just a sentence. Today at Cedar Ridge, I was talking with one of the residents about some of the decisions that had brought him there. Like a lot of young […]
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 22, 2026
A while back, someone told me they didn’t think I was emotionally intelligent. The comment caught me off guard. Not because I believe I’ve mastered emotional intelligence. Far from it. I still get things wrong. I become overwhelmed. I retreat when I should lean in, and occasionally lean in when I should step back. I […]
August 7, 2026
Some days, the most important thing we build isn’t a trail, a fire pit, or even a program. Sometimes, we build a memory that should have existed years ago. Today was one of those days. I spent the morning supervising a group of at-risk teenage boys on work detail. Many of them are navigating the […]
