The Cache la Poudre river is home water for me. I can usually bring a nice brown trout or two to hand anytime I go out. As a child the water was dominated by rainbow trout. An occasional brown was a thrill. And rarer still were brook trout, cutthroat, and the mountain whitefish (I’ve caught…
The study in my cabin, the space I spend time in beneath the shadow of Boston Peak. I suppose Little Dave the cat, hanging out on the windowsill, is my muse of sorts, a source of inspiration to write about things wild and free.
Wandering the mountain trails of northern Colorado, there’s seemingly always a moment one can stop, remain still, and let the forest speak. The trees have voices, ancient and wise, like guardians of secrets held for centuries. They whisper quietly on calm days when a gentle breeze brushes through their boughs, creating an enchanting melody that…