Hiking the Zion Narrows, a Life Long Intention

Hiking the Zion Narrows, a Life Long Intention

I have wanted to hike the Zion Narrows since I first learned of them on spring break of senior year. (My best friend insists it was our senior trip; I maintain it was spring break. An insignificant detail to everyone but us, for whom it 

How to Hike the Zion Narrows, a Guide

How to Hike the Zion Narrows, a Guide

Now that you’ve decided to hike the Narrows (if you haven’t, read my first post here and allow me to convince you), you’ll need to start planning. In order to enjoy yourself, you’ll need to be thoroughly prepared. I hope this guide helps you pull 

The City Escaped | Eclipse 2017: Wendover and the Salt Flats

The City Escaped | Eclipse 2017: Wendover and the Salt Flats

On the border of Utah and Nevada, just outside the salt flats, stands the small gambling town of Wendover. Montego Bay and the Wendover Nugget rise directly over the Nevada side of the state line. The Peppermill, The Rainbow, and The Red Garter just up 

The City Escaped | Grandeur Peak, Salt Lake City

The City Escaped | Grandeur Peak, Salt Lake City

In Los Angeles, I hike. Living in East Hollywood, my most accessible trails are Griffith Park, Beachwood Canyon, Runyon Canyon, and Fryman Canyon. All are in the heart of the city, but allow me to climb above it, spying some nature along the way. When 

The City Escaped: Ojai

The City Escaped: Ojai

One thing that makes life in LA great is how easy it is to get away. A plethora of scenic destinations are just a short drive away. Recently, I spent two days in Ojai for my cousin’s birthday. A 90-minute drive from Hollywood leads to 

The City Escaped | Skiing Utah

The City Escaped | Skiing Utah

I’m not just from Utah, I am of Utah. Utah is more than my home; it is my heart and hearth. I carry it in my blood, my skin, and my mind. Though I haven’t lived there full-time in twenty years, I’m proud and grateful 

Alone in Bogotá

Alone in Bogotá

I keep asking myself why I am alone in Bogotá. In November, I spent a week in Cartagena and Mompox, as part of a journalism fellowship. I intended to travel solo for a week thereafter, but flew home to Los Angeles in a hurry, to address 

Automne en Juillet

Automne en Juillet

July in Paris has decided to skip to autumn. 62 degrees the other day, and rain for a straight week. I packed for summer. Skirts, sundresses, flip flops. I did not pack warm jackets, or pants. Or closed-toe, non-porous shoes that can be worn in 

Je Suis Ici

Je Suis Ici

Je suis à Paris. After a thirteen hour over-night flight on which I did not sleep a wink, I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport with a fifty-pound suitcase, a fifteen-pound shoulder bag, and a head both heavy with fatigue and soaring with excitement. I took