That Time I Drove To Maine | Travel Essays

I’m in a cocoon, nestled in my duvet and a thick blanket. Something stirs, and I open my eyes. I can only see the silhouette of a man. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat of my SUV, hot steam bellowing out of what looks like a stainless steel travel mug. He takes a sip.

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.

20 Strangers & Even More Clichés | Travel Essays

There are two things I’m not very experienced with. Skiing and West Virginia. So it seems counter-intuitive that this past weekend, I ventured to Snowshoe, West Virginia to ski. With 20+ strangers. (That last part seems more like me.) It’s not that I have anything against West Virginia – I just haven’t spent a significant…