“… il y a simplement trop de monde,” a French hiker exclaimed as we walked by, referencing the increasing number of visitors into the city and its alpine hiking trails. And it’s true — Zermatt, or its well known mountain, anyhow, is a huge tourist draw. Its visitors office estimates roughly three million gawkers pass through each year, on average spending over 200 CHF per day. But even the prospect of needing to consistently assert that I wasn’t going to be a train-riding visitor but rather a gung-ho hiker wasn’t enough to keep me from coming back a second time this month, cheating on Rainier be damned.
Continue reading “Simplement trop de Monde”
After five weeks of not being in the mountains, I finally got a chance to drive into some valley and hike up some mountain again. This time, it was that valley. Deep in Switzerland to that iconic mountain, where all the tourists go.
Continue reading “Return to The Valley”
Since middle school, I always figured if I lived internationally it’d be in France — I spoke the language, I had studied abroad in the country, and I even visited the Caterpillar factory that was the reason behind my learning the language in the first place. It was also in Grenoble, I think, that my love of mountains was subconsciously awakened. It is thus admittedly strange that three of the past five Independence Days I’ve spent not in France but rather in Germany, and that the language I’m beginning to resort to is now German rather than French. This, the neighbor to what I thought would be my foreign language destination, is now my home for the next months. Round two began quietly, not in Stuttgart as before, but in the Allgäu, heart of the German Alps.
Continue reading “Cents of Adrenaline”
It’s difficult for me to substantiate what impressed me most about D.C.; the extent of its attention to history and technology is rather breathtaking given the political order the city is principally charged with keeping. More by coincidence than planning, a third element — culture — came across as yet another defining pillar.
Continue reading “Celebrating Culture”
Winter was rather cold in Charleston this year, though sometimes swings in weather bode well for colorful skies at dawn and dusk. I missed a good sunset two weeks ago so headed to Pitt St later that week to make up for it. Clouds extinguished the setting sun quickly, but the trees had started to bud: summer is coming!
Continue reading “Glimpse of Summer”
Partly due to missing last Saturday’s sunrise, partly due to not seeing much fall color, and mostly due to a completely-clear weather forecast, I decided to try my hand at backcountry camping one week after living the easy life in a Hendersonville cabin. This time, I’d be right next to my sunrise spot; take in the crisp, 6000 foot altitude air; and eat my heart out at the expansive views. They say that just a few days of backcountry camping can free the soul. Two days in the Pisgah wilderness and I’m in full agreement.
Continue reading “When it Begins to Feel like Home”
A few weeks after I got back from China, I drove out to the mountains to pick blueberries. We found them in droves, but I wasn’t really successful in substantiating that as I ate as I picked and never took a picture of the rather small blueberry bushes. Instead, I ended up going on four hikes and soaking up the awesome weather.
Continue reading “Hark! Blueberries!”
In my time here so far, my two favorite places to photograph in the Charleston area are the Ravenel Bridge and Botany Bay. The bridge is simply majestic, though I don’t feel like I’ve depicted its full grandeur yet. Botany Bay at sunrise is the closest definition of tranquility that I’ve found here. Naturally, it’s difficult to photograph the boneyard at Botany Bay from a place other than Botany Bay, but there’s plenty of vantage points for the bridge. One week ago, I decided to check out a new location to shoot the bridge at sunset.
Continue reading “Revisiting the familiar”