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“He may be just a tramp, a guy that likes to roam about this great country without any special aim, just to thank the Lord for these beautiful mountains.”
-B. Traven, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
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“. . .here, where there are still the silences and the loneliness of the earth before man, . . .”
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Recently Read
- Eating Poison Oak
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- Condor Cave Reference On Redwood Log, Disney California Adventure Park
- The Day Hell Hit Santa Barbara; Third Hottest Temperature Ever Recorded on Earth
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- Summer of Serpents of Rattlers Beware
- No Halibut, One Arrowhead
- Resuscitation
- Wolves, Grizzlies and the Howling Wilderness of Change, Santa Barbara National Forest: Race and Recognition In the Woods
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Clint Elliott in Costa Rica
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Tag Archives: Fiction
Condor Man
Sespe Wilderness The condor soared for hours on its nine-and-a-half-foot wing. The great vulture had drifted one hundred miles without a single flap floating on plumes of heat blowing skyward, the radiant land shimmering under the sun far below like … Continue reading →
Posted in Santa Barbara
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Tagged Adventure, Condors, Fiction, Hiking, Los Padres National Forest, Nature, Nature Writing, Public Lands, Santa Barbara, Wilderness, Wildlife
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1 Comment
Resuscitation
Car headlights swept the blackness revealing a whirling glimpse of dirt parking lot that flashed in the night. Boulders ringed the empty lot before a backdrop of lumpy drab forest. Two men stood bound in a sleepless stupor gazing at … Continue reading →
Posted in Santa Barbara
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Tagged Adventure, Fiction, Hiking, Hiking (2), Los Padres National Forest, Nature, Outdoors, Santa Barbara, Stories, Wilderness, Writing
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2 Comments
The Sign
Santa Barbara backcountry The men emerged at dawn from the confine of darkness with strained faces wet and ruddy as writhing newborns and the forested land materialized before their bloodshot eyes by the minute in the lightening day, ever larger, … Continue reading →
Posted in Santa Barbara
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Tagged Adventure, backcountry, Backpacking, Fiction, Hiking, Nature, Non-fiction, Outdoors, Santa Barbara, Wilderness, Writing
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12 Comments
The Sarsaparilla Drifter
The bat-winged double doors flew open smacking the saloon’s walls with an emphatic clap. He stood there, a bulky figure, face obscured in shadow, the dim sooty flutter of tallow candles warping his features into a caricature. His flat brimmed … Continue reading →
