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isthmus | September 25, 2009
Follow me upstream at night, into the heart of extinction. Read
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Isthmus | April 15, 2009
Coconut Train to Cuero Y Salado
I am on the coconut train to La Union. I share the second train car with Germàn, my wilderness guide from the Pico Bonito Lodge. In the daytime, you can see how this old track passes over marshes on rotting bridges and through fields of palms and oxen.
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Desert Southwest | February 2, 2009
Mud Road to Coyote Buttes
Low clouds move with surreal speed along the cliffs above the Colorado River; they swirl, shapeshift, and from time to time, they seem to disappear altogether.
Day will come soon, but until then, the movement of the clouds brings unexpected shapes. Now, a monolith rock emerges from a landscape of slickrock from shifting clouds.
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Great Plains | May 2009
St. Tammany Parish
I write a series of letters to a mysterious pastor over his public support for a documentary that argued for intelligent design. From my perch high up in the Panama jungle, I am better prepared to argue my case that Pastor Paul Viggiano should retract his support for the movie.
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isthmus | January 8, 2009
Letters from the Canopy
I write a series of letters to a mysterious pastor over his public support for a documentary that argued for intelligent design. From my perch high up in the Panama jungle, I am better prepared to argue my case that Pastor Paul Viggiano should retract his support for the movie.
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Northern Seas | August 29. 2008
Midnight Road to Beringia
I drive slowly along the coast; the Bering Sea is silvery and only tiny waves lap at the sand. I pass a great stretch of inland water over a narrow bridge, and three locomotives from another age are left to rust in the swaying coastal grasses.
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Desert SOuthwest | March 7, 2009
Skateboarding Las Vegas
An In an ongoing project for Notes from the Road, I skateboard across Las Vegas, meeting people on the street and photographing the city from the side few outsiders see.
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Pacific Northwest | Updated August 12, 2008
River Civilization
The Oregon Hotel – it’s old,
rickety and delightful – and in the geographic center of Oregon, in the
smallish town of Mitchell. Weather has me holed up here –
snowstorms east, rain west – a good night’s sleep eludes me.
Read It
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