Closed For Powder Day
My right ski slips and all at once I’m tangled up like a baby deer on ice. I topple into a snow hill. My camera slings around my neck and lands, lens first, in the powder. “Dammit!”
The Road to Fish is Washboard Gravel
I glance over to the dash clock. 12:42pm; we’re getting into the heat of the high desert afternoon now. Another bump in the gravel road jars the truck…