South Africa

South Africa

Papua New Guinea

Papua New Guinea



West Papua, Indonesia

West Papua, Indonesia

Quotes That Keep Me Going....

"There are only three sports: Bull fighting, motor racing and mountaineering; the rest are merely games." Ernest Hemingway

"Adventure is a path. Real adventure--self-determined, self-motivated, often risky--forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the ear and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind--and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white."
--Mark Jenkin

"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are."
--Samuel Johnson

"Tourists don't know where they've been. Travelers don't know where they're going."
--Paul Theroux

"Not all those who wander are lost."
--J.R.R Token

"On a summit the entire world is beneath us, horizons are expanded, and clarity envelops our senses. It is this feeling that the mountaineer seeks, and perhaps it is the feeling that we all seek as we search for love and purpose in our own measured lives. In reaching for the summits of the heart and holding on to them, love and hope transcend the tragedy of our ultimate end." Jennifer Lowe-Anker



Devils Tower

Devils Tower



Sunday, July 26, 2015

I have been away...

Apologies to all as I have been absent for quite some time now. It has been a busy couple of years.... I am now a full time resident of Telluride, CO, a full time mother, a full time wife and a full time entrepreneur. Yes, you read correctly, I am now the ridiculously proud and happy mother of a beautiful two year old girl. And just to be clear, although absent from my blog, I have not strayed from my wanderlust ways.

There is nothing easy about traveling with strollers and pack and plays, NOTHING. is very doable. So listen up all you fellow wanderlusters, don't think parenthood means you have to stay put.

Come on people, we don't want to raise uncultured weenies.  Lead by example and show your children that traveling changes you.  It puts you in places that will force you to care for issues that are much bigger than you. It makes you see that the world is both large and small. And most importantly,   it will teach you to respect pain and suffering.

Help me spread the word!  
PS: Pictures soon to follow! 

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Hong Kong

After getting WFR certified and falling completely in love with Colorado, Cody and I made our way back to LA to catch our flight to Hong Kong. Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated areas in the world. In other words, it was a huge contrast to the Rockies and we found ourselves jetlagged and slightly overwhelmed.

Traveling with a backpack full of backcountry climbing gear, we did not have the right attire to get into any of the yummy restaurants I had been salivating about nor did we have any desire to shop for various real and/or fake luxury items. This left us with nothing to do but people watch, stroll around town during a typhoon in head to toe Gortex, and embark on my favorite urban hike in the world.

If any of you end up in Hong Kong and find yourselves in a similar situation, I highly recommend the Dragon’s Back trail in Shek O Country Park. The trail is a fairly easy stroll rather than a hike, but truly well worth the little amount of time you need to complete it.

The views from the ridge are spectacular. If you look to the east, you’ll see the Clear Water Bay peninsula islands, and if you look to the west, you’ll see the Stanley peninsula. The hike makes you feel like you’re a million miles away from everything. In case you need more convincing, the Dragon’s Back trail had been voted the best urban hike in Asia by Time magazine.

Hong Kong reminds us of Manhattan in Hawaii filled with busy Asians and ex-pats: a truly intense place to visit. All in all, we are stoked to make are way onward to Thailand.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Wrapping summer up...

After a few miserable workweeks in LA, Cody and I headed north to Yosemite to fill our little souls with the best climbing in the world.

We quickly found Yosemite climbs to be crazy hard. The glacier-polished rocks offer few handholds and thus, force you to jam your limbs into cracks and smear on virtually nothing to get up walls. Climbs here require extra water, mosquito repellent, patience, balance and a tolerance for crowds. 5.9 climbs feel like 5.11s. Everything is trad and nothing is easy.

We spent two solid weeks bumming around Camp 4 at night and battling it out with classic climbs like Bishops Terrace and The Nutcracker during the day. My body has never hurt more. I think I was even less bruised after my Mount Shasta fall than my stint in Yosemite!

Feeling defeated and dehydrated at the end of our Yosemite stay, we made our way to Tahoe in hopes of cooler weather and easier climbs. We were also super excited about having a real home to live in for six weeks!

Tahoe without snow is a whole new world. Our winter home base was now barely recognizable and full of so many more activities than we had imagined. Climbing and mountain biking had been our original priorities this summer, but sitting on the shore of the lake while drinking beers, floating down the Truckee River and barbequing became priorities as well.

Big Chief, Donner Pass, and Lover’s Leap gave us days of great climbing. Northstar gave us days of great downhill mountain biking and the abundance of peaks and alpine lakes gave us great days of backcountry hiking. The one drawback to this ideal location is the plethora of people, “gapers” as locals call them, that pour into the Tahoe basin every day of the week.

Looks like next stop is Boulder, CO for a Wilderness First Responder course with NOLS. Can’t wait to be outdoor safety savvy!

Saturday, August 27, 2011


By the time I got back from the Alps, I had to face the harsh cold fact that winter was over and it was time to put my K2 Got Backs to rest and resuscitate my Trek Fuel EX8 mountain bike and trusty Metolius climbing harness.

Before my muscles had very much time to readjust to summer activities, I eagerly left LA to join up with fellow rock climbers, Dave, Tara and Walter at Red Rocks. The weather was certainly not conducive to climbing, but we made the best of it. The first day was shockingly cold and windy which made our exposed 4-pitch climb one hundred percent more scary. We climbed in our puffy coats, yelling at the top of our lungs during the entirety of the route. Who would of thought Red Rocks would be so cold and unforgiving in mid-May?

As a little side note, I'm so proud of you Walter for starting a climbing consulting company that can be viewed at !

We all let out a few stingy tears the next morning as rain graced us with its cold sloppy presence. In turn, we grudgingly decided to spend the day gorging at all-you-can-eat buffets and gambling on a plethora of casino activities. Expectedly weary of Vegas, I decided to leave the following day to meet Nicole, Joe, Asher and Matt in Moab for a mountain biking adventure.

After seven hours of driving through a series of isolated, torrential downpours, I quickly reached Moab and quickly fell in love. After meeting up, my friends and I quickly decided to find refuge at the Slickrock Campground, holding our breaths all evening as the ominous clouds sporadically drizzled on us.

For those of you that don’t know, the Slickrock trail made Moab the mountain biking Mecca it is today. Hosting nearly 100,000 mountain bikers a year, Slickrock is perhaps the most popular trail in the world. Interestingly, the name “Slickrock” was conceived when early settlers noticed their horses sliding on the barren sandstone in the area. In contrast, however, mountain bikers find the same barren sandstone to have amazing grip, allowing riders to go down the most radical angles. Needless to say, my friends and I were all excited to experience the hype for ourselves.

Morning came and with great relief, we all stepped out of our tents and indulged in warm beams of desert sun. It was the perfect day for mountain biking!

To put it as simply as possible, the Slickrock experience is intense, steep and unique. The whole trail crosses an elevated platform of sandstone surrounded by petrified sand dunes and cliffs cut out by the Colorado River all complimented by the La Sal Mountains to the east.

I honestly didn’t think I’d make it the finish line as I huffed and puffed my way up and down behind my four amazing mountain biking friends. To my surprise, I found just enough strength to make it through 12 miles of steepness. Not until the end did I realize I had just completed the best mountain biking trail I have ever been on!

Immediately after the four-hour Slickrock experience, my friends and I drove straight to the grocery store and purchased everything we could find with a high calorie count. It took a family-sized bag of Doritos, a few slices of pepperoni pizza and copious amounts of beer before my puny mountain biking muscles began to de-cramp enough so that I could go to bed.

The next day was another sunny surprise. Despite the pain and odd new cuts from slipping on clip less pedals, I followed my friends on the Porcupine Rim trail. Another fantastic trail that was less strenuous as it was mostly downhill, but much more technical than the Slickrock trail.

The Porcupine Rim trail is probably the second most famous trail in Moab. It is 15.6 miles of everything you would expect out of a highly technical trail, perfect for fit expert riders. However, don’t let it intimidate you. As a relatively novice mountain biker, I was able to survive by walking my bike down dangerous sections that required god-like mountain biking skills.

Needless to say, I left Moab knowing I’d definitely be back.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

I'm alive and ski-mountaineering the French and Swiss Alps!

No idea how this happened, but I have no broken bones, just nasty scars and nightmares! Whohoo! Therefore, after a few weeks of pain induced by Mt. Shasta, I became myself again. In other words, I began to look for the next big adrenaline-filled adventure.....

What better way to celebrate the end of the ski season then in the most sublimely elegant, yet rugged place on earth--the Alps! Stretching from Austria and Slovenia in the east through Italy, Switzerland, Lichtenstein and Germany to France in the west, it is quite the mountain range.

My fellow mountaineer, Catherine, and I decided to make our way to Europe in hopes of experiencing the famous Haute Route that begins in Argentiere, France and ends in Zermatt, Switzerland. After a lengthy flight from LAX to Geneva, a beautiful two hour shuttle from Geneva to Chamonix, one day of logisitcs and a short bus ride to Argentiere, we were off.

Our highly anticipated first day on the Haute Route (via Verbier) was hell. It was a long vertical 12 hour stretch that required vexing transitions between, skinning and boot-packing. But somehow or another, we pushed through and reached the Trient Hut.

The days passed rather quickly due to the inexplicably captivating alpine scenery. I barely noticed the sweat and pain as peak after beautiful peak and couloir after beautiful couloir unfolded before my eyes and glistened under the bold European sun.

Second night was spent at the nearly empty Montfort Hut, third night was at the also nearly empty Prafleuri Hut, fourth night was at the packed Dix hut and the last night...well it was suppose to be at the Vignettes Hut...but to no surprise, things didn't quite go as planned and we made are way to the city of Arolla instead. Weather didn't seem conducive to muscling through two long days to Zermatt, so we decided to play it safe and duck out.

After a near death experience on Mt. Shasta, I didn't want to risk another injury. I guess Shasta really was a blessing in disguise. It taught me to respect the sublimity of mountains.

Emergency Room!!!

My adventures have suddenly come to a halt after a miserable evening in the emergency room.....let me fill you in on the last couple of weeks....

After my fill of Utah, I drove north to an eclectic town called Livingston, MT about 30 minutes east of Bozeman. Livingston is a great place to be if you love the burly Montanan wilderness, don't crave food post 10pm on a weekend night, and if you know a man name Ryan Von Luit. Ryan is the ultimate mountaineer Yoda. He radiates with knowledge, which is why I'm so pleased to see it shared through his company, Outdoor Safety Institute (

Ryan took Cody and I on an epic back-country ski adventure up Emigrant peak (10,921ft). After a solid 4,000ft ascent, we found a lovely stash of snow to ski down. Once we reached the car, we made our way to Chico Hot Springs Resort and Spa. For an entry fee of $5, I melted away quad pain as I submerged into the comfort of 120 degree water.

The following day, we made a significantly shorter ascent (approximately 2,000ft) to an unknown peak about 45 minutes outside of Livingston. The ice luge section of our descent was certainly entertaining to ski down, but quite challenging at the same time. Split boarders beware!

After a few days of relaxing touristy fun, we attacked Bridgier Bowls' side-country terrain. It was a freezing, icy day, which inspired us to go find more back-country stashes and pure Montanan solitude. We decided to hit up Emigrant peak again. This time, the mountains granted us an abundance of powder, which encouraged us to climb a bit higher and hit a few more turns on the way down. The only drawback were my goggles, which had frozen during the ascent and were thus of no visual use on the descent. I made the 4,000ft plus descent with my eyes closed. It was not an ideal situation.

It was hard to leave Montana, but my climbing partner and I eventually made our way to Mt Shasta where we imprudently decided to conquer the 14,162 ft beast the next day. Outfitted in a black diamond ice axe, black diamond crampons and brand new Kayland mountaineering boots, I thought I was adequately prepared for our one day, 7,000ft ascent.

We left at 3am, seemingly impervious to the strong head winds that were blowing ice chunks at us. Our crampons screeched in the ice as no snow had graced the mountain since December. Needless to say, my climbing partner and I did not listen to the mountain. We kept going, eager to slay the summit.

As noon approached, we were in between the top of Red Banks and the base of Misery Hill at approximately 13,000ft. We could not keep pace due to the icy conditions and headwinds and thus decided to turn around as we would not be able to summit and make it back before nightfall.

The down climb was uncomfortably treacherous. The sun did very little to ease the slippery daggers of ice that covered the mountain (see picture to the right of this paragraph). Just below the top of Red Banks, my left crampon slipped, my self-arrest didn't hold and I slid down the steep grated face of Mt.Shasta for about a 1,000ft until I reached the bottom of the Heart.

According to my partner, I slid down about 200ft directly into a boulder, went limp, then proceeded to somersault my way down until I was out of sight 400ft from the start of the fall. My partner assumed I was either unconscious or dead as he followed a trail of gear and blood before reaching my mangled body about 45 minutes later.

To his surprise as well as mine, I was hurt, in shock, yet conscious. After being able to wiggle my fingers and toes, a small painful sigh of relief escaped my lips. 9 horrifyingly long hours later, we reached our car and anxiously made our way to the emergency room.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

In search of the good stuff...

To the dismay of many Lake Tahoe transients, our mountains were graced with another warm, snow-less weekend. Despite the spring conditions, three fellow mountaineers and I decided to venture out for some overnight back-country fun in Desolation Wilderness. Although skinning on ice and skiing down wet sticky snow was frustrating, we seemed to make the best of it. There was laughing, eating, discovering the sweet warmth of Bailey's and stumbling upon the ultimate snow shelter.

After the weekend came to a close, I decided it was time to find actual snow to play with. It just so happened that my powder compass pointed towards Utah. After several unsatisfying laps at Deer Valley Resort, Park City yesterday I headed straight to the back-country today. I took a mellow approach via Days Fork in Big Cottonwood Canyon South. After a long tiring ascent to an unnamed point at 10,561 feet, I took a few turns down a pleasant, semi-powdery and semi-crusty drainage. Not perfect, but much better than Tahoe. Can't wait to find more stuff to play on tomorrow.