Los Angeles Times

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The climate anxiety crush conundrum. 2023.

"A crush is a craving, an aspiration, a will to live. It is an empty calendar, mine for the filling. At least, that used to feel true. The more I see the swiftness of the climate crisis, the less sure I am of what’s reasonable to ask of the future."

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Noema Magazine

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The Mystery of the Disappearing Tree. 2024.

"In this way, whitebark conservation is a paragon of all climate change adaptation work: a way of acting out our conscious and unconscious notions of who deserves to survive."

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Summit Journal

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Maker of Mountains. 2024.

"Like Wheeler, I have pointed the lens of a camera at Mt. Sir Donald. Like him, I have obsessed over every nook and cranny of the range. Unlike him, I have never relied upon that marrow-deep intuition of where one ridge ends and another begins, hard-won through summers romping across the alpine, to commit murder."

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No Protocol. 2024.

"But whether or not I wanted to shield myself from love’s obligations turned out to be irrelevant. I’d miscalculated. The risk didn’t begin when I left for the mountains. It began the instant I became somebody’s friend. "

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The Writing on the Wall. 2025.

"The comments seemed to assert that any American has the right to refuse to witness even the most oblique reminders of
geopolitics; that Park visitors are perhaps uniquely entitled to that experience, given that they are “opting outside” and thereby, it seems, opting out of the whir of news notifications; and that, therefore, the climbers had a duty to honor these rights—by not disrupting a tourist’s experience, by not hanging an almost-invisible banner that someone would have to go out of their way even to read."

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Observer Arts

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The Promise and Impossibility of Belonging. 2025.

"But the fine print of belonging reveals that it is not a passive enterprise but rather an endeavor of compromise, bad timing and perpetual effort. "

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Oregon Humanities

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What We Owe Each Other. 2024.

"Somewhere along the way, many chronically ill patients lose sense of who they are, because they have spent so much time listening to different doctors tell them contradictory stories about who they could or couldn’t be."

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Life After Running. 2024.

"A young person is in the best shape of their life. They act as if they were invincible. They dream with the kind of folly only a young person can sustain. They believe achieving their dreams is not only possible, but inevitable. They are wrong."

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Metronome: An excerpt from LIVE THROUGH THIS. 2024.

"It’s like a rusty hand mixer has been shoved through my skull and into my brain and it is slowly churning the matter around. On top of this feeling are other, worse ones: that someone is using a potato peeler on my eyes, that someone has taken the bound nerves in my spinal cord and stretched them straight out to the moon."

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Authors Guild Bulletin 

 

Lessons on Vanishing. 2024.

"No one saw my body bounce from one ledge to another, my limbs spinning in a loose plié as I tumbled through stretched seconds, and my fall stacked into something building, something containing a distinct beginning, middle, and, mercifully, an end."

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​High Country News

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How California's Emergency Plans Fail Disabled People. 2024.​

"State-led programs operate under the mistaken assumption that it is possible to be disabled in America and trust the state to keep you safe. California’s emergency services are built around the idea that the individual — any individual — can simply find a way to make it work."

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Outside

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The Terror of Turning a Corner. 2024.

"When you’ve been sick for a long time, you realize feeling mellow is actually pretty great. It starts to feel how I imagine Olympic athletes feel all of the time–invincible, like their bodies are made out of lava, or light."

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The Dignity of Risk. 2022.

"If, before 1940, someone tried to run around the lake, four miles of this new route would have been twenty feet underwater. Several miles would have traversed dark, wet sand, sloppy to run in and stinking of salt. Instead, the shoreline is now flaky, shimmering from heat. Alkali flies leap and stagger, their bodies so small that 2,000 of them could squeeze side-by-side onto a single postcard."

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The Girl in the Gully. 2022.

"Still, the desert doesn’t deter successfully enough. It just kills more subtly than other border policies the United States has experimented with. If anything, what it deters best is our capacity to witness the harm caused by U.S. border policy."

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Following Trails through an Uncertain Future. 2022.

" Big Pine Pass slid, mud running hundreds of feet down its slope; Parker bench was buried in car-sized glacial erratics; the road to North Lake was covered in a hundred-foot-wide debris flow that trapped fifty cars at the trailhead. And then Pine Creek slid – not with mud, but with talus, as the sediment beneath the boulders became so saturated from the weeks of rain that its slope crumbled, slowly moving tons of boulders downhill, burying eighty-year old sections of rock retaining walls."

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In the Water-Starved West, Can Ancient Stewardship Practices Save the Soil? 2023.

"Recently, state agencies carbon-dated agricultural well water and found that it was 8,000 years old. The water being used to grow crops in the desert is glacial melt from the end of the Ice Age. Tapping those aquifers would mark an irreversible point of departure. It would take another Ice Age for those underground basins to be replenished."

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The Long Way Out. 2021.

"I realized after the words left my mouth that there were no words, only syllables and disjointed half-laughs, pent-up language pouring out of my body, all noise and no meaning."

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Fire Season

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Trust Fall. 2022.

"I keep finding houses in burn scars, I tell him. These property listings have an evergreen cheer. You could love it here, they say. Recently renovated! Find your forever-home! Most of the listings I come across are for the last houses standing in razed neighborhoods. They boast newly-panoramic views. Even in their glossy ad photos, I think I can see scrub marks on a few of the black-streaked exteriors."

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In These Times

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They Pick Food All Day, but Many Farmworkers Go to Sleep Hungry. 2022.

"First built as a labor camp, the low-income housing complex has become home to many of the county’s agricultural employees. Guerrero had planned to distribute information about the new virus. But what she found wasn’t a lack of information; it was a lack of good groceries."

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Sierra Magazine

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Where Glaciers Melt, New Ecosystems Emerge. 2022.

"When charting a glacier’s melt, one does not find a contour map of successional stages that mirror passing time. Ecological development comes in fits and starts."

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Briarpatch Magazine

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BC's Climate Change Adaptation Crisis. 2022.

"One July afternoon, Johansen looked out her window. The sky had had robin’s egg clarity all morning. Suddenly, it had blushed like a peach. The winds had changed. The fire was here."

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Undark Media

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A Recreation Boom Kindles Wildfire Anxiety. 2021.

"To campers, the little rock-ringed flames are indispensable, an essential iconography of outdoor recreation. But the shovel and five gallons of water, which the state fire permitting agency advises should always be kept on hand, are less frequently part of the reverie of fire-building. If a fire is not fully drowned, embers can catch in the wind. And then, what was started for smores spreads, igniting the dry brush around it. A wildfire begins."

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Alpinist Magazine

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The Geography of Absence. 2021.

"Massive boulders—glacial erratics—balanced at unlikely angles on the ledges above. Later, during the daily safety debrief, James observed that the place had the eerie, electric feeling of still being unsettled. The forefield was just an assemblage of discrete parts that hadn’t yet found their final place of repose."

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A Map of the Heart. 2019.

"Berridge’s research shows that whether dopamine (a neurotransmitter associated with motivation) helps cause terror or longing depends on the environment. Under my numb fingers, the older rock bands in the batholith gleam red as they dampen. I grab another spruce too tightly, and it slices my skin. The climb is a mirror. Do I want to feel fear or love here?"

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