I recently earned a Masters in Biography & Creative Non-fiction at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, England. I am also a Film Independent Screenwriting Lab fellow.


Between November 2014 and March 2015, I walked 3,000 km down the length of New Zealand with my Dad and produced a new media project about the experience. I wrote weekly articles and produced a 16-part web series. The project also included regular newsletters, written and visual content for sponsors, and a bit of freelance work on the side.

“The Domain of Courageous Men,” Hinterland, Issue 5

It isn’t whitewater. It’s a frothing red wave, surging over boulders, crashing into itself, roaring downriver. Three handmade wooden boats – the Wen, the Botany, and the Mexican Hat – rollick toward it like flood debris. The Wen drops into the rapid first. It skirts around a wave where the current has formed a hole: the water running upstream and downstream at once. It could easily trap the boat and its passengers. Read more…

“Few Hikers Do the Pacific Northwest Trail. Should It Stay That Way?”, Sierra

Montana’s Yaak Valley was one of the most remote places Emma Vigers had ever set foot in. Tucked into the corner of the Idaho state line and the Canadian border, this heavily forested region offered the type of solitude Vigers had been looking for in a thru-hike. She was just a few weeks into her trek along the 1,200-mile Pacific Northwest Trail, which connects the Continental Divide in Montana to Washington’s Olympic Coast. At dusk, Vigers and her hiking partner were plodding uphill toward a mountain summit when they noticed a large set of grizzly paw prints underfoot. Reluctant to continue walking, they decided to stop and make camp. Vigers would spend the remainder of the evening wondering if they truly were alone.   Read more…

15481038001_2cf445556f_k“Going to Ground,” Finalist in the Nowhere Magazine Spring 2018 Travel Writing Contest

It was snowing. I didn’t know it snowed in Texas. I stood in the doorway of our little pop-up camper, my back warm from the electric heater and my face cold in the night, watching the snow softly settle on the sage. A white flash of lightning strobed on the canyon walls. Thunder rattled off the Llano Estacado and fell over the rim. It tumbled down the sandstone cliffs and splashed into the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River. Normally, someone would have yelled at me for standing with the door open, but tonight we huddled together and watched the thunder snow. Read more…

IMG_1880“How climate change is impacting specialty outdoor retail,” SNEWS, May 2019

Last year a Congressional report confirmed what many within the outdoor industry already knew: climate change will transform the way we do business. The report projected that unless serious action is taken to curb global warming, the U.S. economy could shrink by nearly 10 percent in the next 80 years. Read more… 

P0341n02_15_04“The first women to raft the Grand Canyon were badass botanists,” Adventure Pro, Spring 2019

The Grand Canyon is gray. Muddy black and white water crashes and surges. A handmade wooden boat jitters through the rapids at 18 frames per second. On board is a small, short-haired woman in a cork helmet clutching the stern line. The newsmen describe her as a bespectacled “schoolma’am,” yet Dr. Elzada Clover is an accomplished botanist who has explored much of the Southwest.

47247252_2207677629498342_5468490891142365184_n“The Sound of Nowhere,” The Gulch, December/January 2018/19. 

There is wet panting outside my tent.  Paws run through the sand, pounding against the earth like a fluttering heart. I hold my breath; my core tightening and tendons coiling, ready to escape the sleeping bag. And do what? I haven’t thought that far ahead. The animal snaps its mouth shut and sniffs. It sounds like it’s right beside me. 

I quietly dig around for my headlamp, then shine the light underneath the fly, searching for paws. 

The sound of sand shifting underfoot as it pads away. Gone. It must have been a dog. Perhaps a loose pet from a neighboring campsite. Another stampede of soft feet and the same smacking breath. It’s back and this time it brought friends. Read more…

Liam-Doran-1739-1024x683“Avalanche forecasting is like reading stories in the snow,” Adventure Pro, Winter 2018

“Not everything is face shots and high fives,” says Jeff Davis, though something in his voice tells me there have been plenty of both. “It’s also lots of endless hours, looking at weather models, early mornings and late nights.”

Davis is a forecaster with the Colorado Avalanche Information Center(CAIC) and for the last three winters, he has worked in the San Juan Mountains evaluating avalanche danger and providing daily forecasts. Backcountry users should be as familiar with the CAIC as surfers are the tide report. The state government agency produces backcountry avalanche forecasts for 10 zones throughout Colorado, as well as separate reports for highway maintenance. Read more…

IMG_1804“Think Like A Forest,” The Gulch, August/September 2018

The fading scars of the 2002 Missionary Ridge Fire were an ever-present reminder that it could happen again. All it would take was one long drought, one wayward spark. Sixteen years later, winter never came. Southwest Colorado suffered one of its driest winters on record and locals knew it wasn’t a matter of “if,” but rather “when” Durango’s next big fire would ignite. It happened on June 1st, 2018, approximately ten miles north of town in the bedroom community of Hermosa.

Screen Shot 2018-10-31 at 8.37.49 AM“Walls,” The Gulch Magazine, April/May 2018

In a grainy black and white video, a furtive figure casts his gaze from side to side. It’s nighttime. Moths flitter in front of the camera and Sombra’s eyes glow like two full moons. The video is high contrast and pixelated, like footage of a fugitive caught on a security camera. Unaware he’s being filmed, Sombra holds his head up, alert to opportunity and danger. Both may find him in the Chiricahua Mountains of southern Arizona. Read more…

c02810_e50ab2d736a248bca078463950cee61d~mv2_d_2442_3468_s_4_2“Mouse House,” 2017 UEA Biography & Creative Writing Anthology

There was a warning etched into the rusted metal door. The spidery letters looked as if they’d been hastily scrawled before the unknown victim fled his attackers. It read:

Mouse House.


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