alcoholic; a shower and four walls provided to me right now. The line between words and actions quickly becomes blurred, so we don’t usually speak of our deepest doubts, or acknowledge that we could cause our own undoing. Today I don’t care. I can think of no reason to continue,

But we’ve known the power of the wild, the all-consuming demands of rain and snow and wind, the callousness of mountains and rivers. We’ve been cared for by strangers. We’ve felt part of something much

Tedium is a regular part of my job. But today the graphs and calculations fall away as I inhale the scent of dirt and spruce needles. Out here, I am half scientist, half disciple. I’ve left the laboratory far behind and, with it, the need to quantify and contain. In its place, I’ve reconnected with the simple act of observation.

carefully planned, our route detailed, the logistics ironed out? But uncertainty has become the only constant. Rather than adhering to schedules or itineraries, our days are shaped by the landscape; each valley, each river, each pass slightly different from the last.

He’s a study in contrasts, a rare person who sees little conflict in owning many identities at once.

four thousand miles of roadless, trailless terrain through a landscape

Observation can guide us to wonder. It’s also the foundation of all scientific inquiry. Without observation, we have little hope of understanding an individual, a species, or an entire ecosystem.

The idea of worrying about only as much as I need to for today, or tomorrow, has finally taken hold.

After almost two months in the constant company of the sea, we will head inland, traveling north into Canada’s Yukon. If our mountain crossing goes well, we’ll be in Whitehorse in less than two weeks.