Climbing Max Patch

It’s hot. My grey tank has become another layer of skin. I run my hand through my short, cropped hair, taking a deep breath as I push forward.

Liz | Travel Essays

It’s a Thursday evening, at dusk. The residential street I’m walking down is lovely. Cozy homes snuggled into hilltops. Vibrant red and yellow leaves scattered beneath cars, aside curbs.

Max Patch | Travel Essays

It’s hot. My grey tank has become another layer of skin. I run my hand through my short, cropped hair, taking a deep breath as I push forward.

Cycling in Asheville | Travel Essays

“Matt, smile.” I hold my phone at a different angle, cutting out my face. Tess smiles and Matt glances over. “Let’s do another one,” I say. We try again. Matt’s face is even more awkward. “Matt doesn’t need to be in the picture,” Tess decides.

“C’mon, Iceland.”

My favorite thing about travel are the surprises. I travel with the intention of being surprised. Most of the excursions, restaurants, and people I encounter are by chance.

Gratitude and joy.

“Wait, am I still in your phone as this?” My thumb is hovering over a contact, “Melissa W from Queensboro”. The petite, dark haired girl driving confirms it, then offers to update it. “It’s fine,” I say, texting myself the photo I wanted. We’ve just left Chimney Rock. She’s carefully steering our Nissan Note (a rental) back down the…

Read This Before Going To Asheville, It’s Urgent(ish)

A lot of my readers are from North Carolina, however, many are not. When I told my co-workers I was headed to Asheville for Halloween weekend, I got the mandatory Carolinian response: “Awww, Asheville? Have you ever been? YOU’LL LOVE IT THERE.” With the exception of Smoopsie (Lane), no one from outside the state knew…