Mark Twain, Fabius and Troublesome Creek

If you travel at all around Mark Twain’s boyhood stomping grounds, you’ll likely cross the Fabius River. There are three branches, paralleling Troublesome Creek as they all wind their way to the Mississippi. The Fabius rivers are named not for … Read More

March Paddleness

My bracket was busted. I had little interest in Duke and Kentucky. Besides, a more compelling shade of blue was luring a platoon of paddlers to the Prongs. And our submarine. So we headed to the Prongs. 33rd year. 33 … Read More

Ride to the Devil

The Great Flood of 1993 pushed the Grand River into the streets and homes of Pattonsburg and residents moved up the hill to form a new Pattonsburg. They left behind beautiful buildings like the old Methodist Church. When Ang Lee … Read More

Alma Right

Three types of sliced cactus surrounded the taco al pastor, lovingly lavished with carnitas and pineapple. I glued them with guacamole. doused the mixture with tomatillo salsa, and washed it down with gulps of Cheryl’s margarita. El Alma Cafe y … Read More

Keep Austin Weird

Barbecue has its own dress code, its own language, its own religion.  We stumbled onto the Green Mesquite, a local Austin favorite. Entering this deliciously shabby shack we slid into a booth next to a photo of Delbert McClinton who … Read More

Have An Agave

Anchoring San Antonio’s Market Square, Mi Tierra makes Mariachi music and Mexican food 24 hours a day. They’re proud of their margaritas, and why not? Margaritas cure ricketts, wealth and marriage.

Pumped In For Your Pleasure

The desert flower waits for months to bloom. Forgive me, great spirit of agua: We rolled into a desert oasis grimy with the soot of snow removal after sliding sideways out of a Flagstaff snowstorm at 7,000 feet. Through a … Read More

Print

Walked into a bar in Las Cruces, saw a young man sitting at a table, tattoos over most of his exposed skin head, face and arms protruding from dirty biker leathers. He was reading a book. Reading a book. We … Read More

Desert Dusk

Sun’s last rays against the Little San Bernardino Mountains, Palm Desert.

Finding Wild

No car. No motorcycle. Not even a mule. The mountain doesn’t care. The sun fled the scene like a burglar, tossing back its last rays into the dusk. Cold crept into the mountain’s desert cusp even faster than darkness. Safety … Read More