ONE AFTERNOON in August 1946, I was riding along the bottom of a canyon cut into the rolling tundra of northern British Columbia by a little creek named after Billy Nevis (pronounced Neeves), an old ...
If you’ve been recreating out at Smith Rock State Park in Central Oregon long enough, you may have seen a middle-aged man going up and over Misery Ridge, carrying 20 pounds in his backpack. That tired ...
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