And just like the deer, and how the creek left ridges and curls in the sand, did I leave notions of myself, too. Just like that — we take and are taken. … More In Brief, 2018: My Human Craft
These feats seem narrow and superficial when I compare them to the work my brain does when dreaming at night. The nightmares are such because they contradict me, risk everything, go beyond the threat of death by hypothetically starting the process. … More The dreams that scare me and how they nurture my curiosity
When I think about it now, I’m honestly not sure whether I was addicted to the mountain views or to the fascination these trips inspired from others waiting back at camp. Either way, the moment allowed my power to manifest in a way that was visible to the world around me. … More I have a theory.
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
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
Sonya has started the fire and the light against the lake fools you into believing that if you follow the stone steps down to the water’s edge, you’ll fall away, airborne. Yet as romantic as it all may be, the mosquitoes are what keep you sane and seated, layered in clothing and swatting, occasionally smearing blood that is hopefully yours. … More Boundary Waters, Part 1: Inception
I step hesitantly across the catwalk, trying not to glance down into the ice-coated gorge. My steps are wobbly, partly because of the mountaineering boots, but more so, terror. I’m offered a rope as we descend a narrow iron ladder to secure it to my climbing harness in case I become apprehensive about falling deep into this yawning cavern. Sweat drenches my woolen undershirt. The inch-long barbed crampons make balancing… … More Dither Me This #6: Risk
Mad. Does thinking too deeply of one word mark a symptom of near madness? At what point does one fall into it? How deep does madness go? Can you fall out of it or do you have to climb? These thoughts can get disorienting. I can get lost. … More Dither Me This #5: Mad
First breath
I begin and morph
oval eyes
oval mouth
soft things and round roots of noise, touch— … More Dither Me This #4: Ovals
From underprivileged communities lost to the vastness of the Inland Empire in Southern California, the first post in this series will feature 3 women who have found climbing and the great outdoors in different and inspiring ways, despite defined gender roles and financial hardship. … More Falling for Nature: Stories of LatinX Women
By Sara Aranda This piece takes a look at mental health issues that often coincide with an extended injury. I write from my own (current) experience, and that is it. But the more I talk about these things, the more I learn how common they are; yet how silent and detrimental the rabbit hole can … More Injury Diary: Cyclical Mourning
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