Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


The "Big Three-Oh." What's the big "Dealy-Yo?" After work, I spent a few hours of my birthday wandering aimlessly among the boulders and trees, taking a nap on top of a house-sized chunk of moss-covered granite, then making my way upwards to encounter (unexpectedly) the bottom tricklings of Ribbon Falls, which spits its meager allotment of snowmelt over the precipice of El Capitan, the tallest granite monolith on the planet.

Note the little rainbow.

Note the very little airplane.

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