Stories from the ridgeline
Reflections on fatherhood, faith, healing, leadership, adventure, and the spaces between expectation and reality.
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 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 […]
May 14, 2026
There is a kind of person who stops on the trail after conflict and looks back. Not because they are weak. Not because they are guilty of everything. Not because they enjoy pain. But because something in them wants to walk honestly. They want to know if they stepped carelessly. They want to know if […]
February 20, 2026
The Choice Some journeys look perfect on paper. Wide. Well-marked. Affordable. Efficient. They promise predictable footing and a gentle grade. No technical scrambles. No exposure. No risk of sudden storms rolling over the ridgeline. And yet, when your boots finally touch the dirt, something in your body hesitates. Your breathing is shallow.Your shoulders don’t drop.The […]
January 18, 2026
Deep Questions Yesterday in my sixth-grade English class, we were talking about emotions. Not the tidy, laminated-chart versions that live on classroom walls and get trotted out during advisory periods; but the real ones. Anxiety. Fear. The feelings that arrive without asking, settle into the body, and refuse to leave quietly. The kind that tighten […]
January 11, 2026
Some stories don’t stay where you leave them. They don’t fade when the chapter ends or quiet down when the trail curves away from the past. They linger; like fog in a low valley, like footsteps you swear you hear long after the campsite has gone still. I’ve started to believe that ghost stories aren’t […]
January 7, 2026
Several years ago, I wrote my eulogy. Not because I was morbid.Not because I was giving up.But because I wanted a compass. I wasn’t trying to predict how my life would turn out. I was trying to decide (before the fog rolled in) who I wanted to be when the trail got hard, the weather […]
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 […]
