Hunting Truffles with Cowboy
We set out into the woods to find truffles. Our guide was a dog named Cowboy. He found something else instead—a long bone, possibly human. This is the story of a winter day in the Pacific Northwest, a quietly remarkable dog, and the woman who works beside him.
My Sinuses vs. Mexico City: A Telenovela
Our trip to Mexico City started with walking tours, tacos, and ambition. It ended with a cold, a curtain, and a surprising lesson in letting go.
Saint Teresa of San Francisco: A Tale of a Demon Driver and the Woman Whose Compassion Saved Us
Stranded on a dark San Francisco street, Mike slumped onto a stoop, looking less like a guy with motion sickness and more like someone who had lost a fight with a bottle of tequila. People crossed the street to avoid us. That’s when I realized: we weren’t just stuck—we were being judged.
My Run-In with Benjamin Bratt
Cartagena is hot. Not ‘Oh, let me grab my sunhat’ hot. More like ‘I am melting into the pavement and will soon become one with the earth’ hot. By midday, I had transformed from carefree traveler to overheated swamp creature. So, when we walked into a fancy restaurant without even changing clothes, I was already feeling like a sweaty disaster. But I was not prepared for what happened next: a full-body collision with Benjamin Bratt’s bare chest.