It's well past dark when we finally make the second creek crossing and drop our packs. The halfway mark offers a brief solace. But we still have the big climb – two miles and nearly 2,000 feet of icy elevation before we gain the saddle, then a relatively flat final mile back to the truck. Sitting in silence we down chalky energy bars and nurse the last of our dwindling water. Lost in thought. Recalling what's recently behind and daunted by what lies directly ahead. I tug off

Overview: I've been a backpacker for nearly 30 years – hiking trails across the country from New Hampshire's Mount Washington to Oregon's...

Overview: I was heading out for my first big game hunt in Montana; a trip with my son in the works for nearly two years. Simply put, I...

We cut our first elk tracks five miles in, post-holing our way through heavy snow often reaching past the knee. Kyle has taken the front,...