photo book: Dupont

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I began the last week of my 20's with a puncture wound- a dog bite to the middle finger of my right hand. It was not the dog's fault. I was being absentminded and I put my hand in its mouth as it was chewing on a stick. I was absorbed in editing fake sunlight into a picture I'd just taken of myself and I wasn't looking. So there you go. I'm not proud.

The next day I sprained my left wrist in a mountain biking accident. Now I walk around with both hands bandaged and hovering in space ahead of me so I don't knock them against anything. I like to think I look as pathetically endearing as those koala bears with the burned paws, the ones that the people of Australia knit mittens for. I'm typing with my nose.

I'm supposed to spend this week reflecting on the last ten years of my life- my youth, my young adulthood. I know it's a been a big decade for me and for the whole world, but for some reason the only things that come to mind is this: Lance Armstrong was lying- lying!- and Kentucky Fried Chicken made that sandwich with fried chicken breasts in place of bread.

What a world.

But anyway.

It's raining now, and the air has that soft, buoyant quality of spring. The dog is on the back porch getting the whole neighborhood riled up. There's a yapper in the yard of every house on this dead end street, sulking behind chicken wire fences, lolling in the dead, straw-colored grass. When one gets going they all start going.

It may be safe to say that winter has drained away from here. We're spending more and more time outside in the sunlight- the real sunlight, not the fake kind that leads to dog bites. There has been a lot of the everyday type of things, dishes and chiral carbons, turbo tax and struggling to get to sleep, virulence factors and lectures and laundry, and all the while the days are get warmer and lighter and longer. 

We spent the weekend biking out at Dupont, exploring waterfalls and finding the most enormous brewery on the planet. We spent the weekend the way I spent the last ten years: outside and energetic, falling down hard on rock, walking the steep sections, crossing cold rivers, getting worn out on the climbs, falling asleep in the car on the way home. Just me and the person I spent ten years looking for.

Forgive me for being so sentimental, but it's the truth. Cut me some slack, I'm turning thirty. And I'm wounded. Dog bite. Wrist. 

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This week, I wrote my favorite article yet- What Your Post Adventure Beer Says About You. For the record, I'm a Twin Leaf Juicy Fruit with a penchant for following Wicked Weed Oblivion Sour Reds into terribly dangerous situations, and I've frequently and against my better judgement fallen in love with PBRs.

Speaking of PBRs, I also wrote this Quick and Dirty Guide to Whitewater Paddling in Asheville.

Also, a little number on How to Spend a Snow Day in Asheville, which was poorly timed, since we're not going to have one of those for another year.

By the way- if you read everything I've ever written on the internet, you win your own jet.

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And now for the winner of last week's mystery prize. Thank you for sharing your beautiful things. Those comments read like a big bright bouquet in the center of the kitchen table. 

 Stephanie Abdon said...

I celebrated a special occasion with someone I love dearly who loves me back. It's not a romance...but a very nice relationship that sustains me and brings me joy. And I am absolutely amazed and happy to have it (and him) in my life.

Congratulations Stephanie! I have a friend like that. I had to leave him in Seattle and it breaks my heart. I'm so glad you got to celebrate with yours. A donation will be made in your name to help Maggie over at The Rural Roost get one step closer to bringing home a diabetes alert dog for her little boy. Also, something sweet will be dropped in the mail for you as well. Email thewildercoast@gmail.com and we'll get you all sorted. 

I'll see you back here soon, everyone. I hope you have a wonderful week. I hope your snow melts.