Boundary Waters, Part 3: Memory of Sounds

All our shoulders are sore. My feet incite anxiety when they get wet. Tired legs. Today is more or less a do-nothing day but my body is in a funk. I’m quiet. Almost somber. Energy low. Raging headache. I ask Hatie for some of her Advil. I’m in an endurance hangover, it seems. I don’t even want to expend the energy talking so I daydream about napping. … More Boundary Waters, Part 3: Memory of Sounds

Boundary Waters, Part 2: Lost

I can’t explain everything, honestly. We got lost. We might have been in Canada for a few hours, who knows. The water levels this year are high, Hatie says, and the islands don’t look the same – nothing really was matching the map anymore. So we paddled and paddled. Sonya brought an Oru Kayak and her paddling was even more exhausting I’m sure. We also decided to wear stick-on mustaches today; I have my silver leggings, Hatie has gold, and Sonya is decked out in champagne leggings and a matching tutu. We could most certainly be the lost girls of Peter Pan. … More Boundary Waters, Part 2: Lost

Dither Me This #9: Control

I caught myself pondering what aspects of my life I controlled. Are they small things? Big things? Strange things? How do I even define control? I started jotting down a list and eventually categorized them into three groups of things I feel I control, have trouble controlling, have no control. Then I made it look pretty, because that’s how my brain works best (a fine example of control): … More Dither Me This #9: Control

Who Do You Write For?

My husband has a point, despite his phallic humor. Giving people the benefit of the doubt, I’m sure many are simply curious. Maybe they’re aware of how difficult writing can be going solo and that successful writers often do write for an entity. And in relation to the outdoors, I admit, that exposure tends to come on behalf of a company or magazine promoting your work, hiring you on, or sponsoring further content. But more often than not, I get the feeling that I’m about to be judged when people ask me. … More Who Do You Write For?

Mother of My Dreams

The following is an account of a series of dreams, strange in their nature, and thus only that. However, dreams seem to offer insight and sometimes an uncanny meditation on life and death. In 2009, I lost my mother to genetic breast cancer, after 7 years of fighting. I’ve had many, rather mundane, dreams with … More Mother of My Dreams

Giving and the Pursuance of (Unknown) Space

Words and photos by Sara Aranda Creeksgiving, 11.24.2016 Hungry, fervent hyenas, eyeing the foil and fire, giggling with the steam and prospect of turkey. Side dishes begin to pop up around the table: sweet potato, mac and cheese, sausage vegetable medley, cornbread stuffing infused with mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, broccoli cheese, pumpkin … More Giving and the Pursuance of (Unknown) Space

Costa Rica, Part 4: The Undulate and the Imaginary

10.9.2016 The undulate sea lifts us up and down. Soft, salty belly. We are flecks of flesh roving the coral reef. Our goggles dig in beneath our noses and my jaw wears from biting the snorkel mouthpiece. This world is so bizarre. Large mazes of brains, bulbous and alien in their nature, and striking fans, … More Costa Rica, Part 4: The Undulate and the Imaginary

Climbing Masochism

By Outdoor Prolink Editorial Intern Sara Aranda. Sara likes to climb, trail run, travel and adventure. She comes from California but is making Boulder, Colorado her new home. Sara also works at Mov… Continue reading: Climbing Masochism