Leaving on a Jet Plane

In an attempt to not fall off the radar while enjoying being off the grid, here's where to find me over the next four weeks:

Sept. 1-5 Vladivostok (persuading the Russian fish mafia to oppose offshore oil and gas drilling)
Sept. 6-11 Sakhalin Island (hoping for bear sitings--just not too close--while photographing construction violations along an oil pipeline route)
Sept. 12-21 Lake Baikal (catching up with colleague friends and plotting the next greatest campaign ever)
Sept. 22-24 Moscow (convincing paranoid journalists that Georgia is still irrelevant in the Wild East, where Buffalo Bill's West meets 1920s Chicago. Fine fine, outrageous oil and gas reserves might tip the scales, but who's counting?

Happy as a bee in the Trinity Alps

I want to tell everyone about the Trinity Alps. And yet I want to tell no one. The invigorating terrain, staggering biodiversity, affirming solitude, and voluptuous stary skies delight. In 2007 and 2008 I wandered into the woods there, heart eager, but confused. Each time, I emerged refreshed. It's not the place, but the hand behind it that guides my heart, reminding me of both my insignificance and inherent worth.