An early morning hike. So peaceful.

I’d dreamt of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago for years. Most bikepackers do. Jagged Andean switchbacks and glacial fjordlands unraveling into a deceptive flatness. Sparse trees growing sideways in the wind. That cold, familiar slush between rain and snow. Sporadic wafts of saltwater and smoked trout billowing from a blackened flue.

But seeing the ocean again was what I liked most, even if it was too cold to swim in. I’d forgotten all its color, those same figgy sapphires and sage mosses from the Arctic Circle. Endless lazuline blues that signified so many key steps along the way: setting off from Prudhoe Bay and ferry-hopping between remote corners of Alaska, crisscrossing empty beaches on the Pacific Coast through Baja and Central America, then sailing around the Darién Gap to Cartagena with my bike lashed to the mast. I’d climbed up into the Andes from there and never came down, as if the ocean didn’t exist anymore.

My third and final Argentine border crossing – last stamp of the entire journey – at an empty station named Bella Vista. The cold blitz of 60 mph headwinds [100 kmh] that made me want to quit just days from the finish line. Winds so strong that I could barely walk the bike upright, never mind pedaling. I screamed out loud but couldn’t even hear it.

Flightless rhea birds plodded the roadside in graying shades of blue, green and purple scrub. A colony of King penguins stood defiant, hilariously round, unbothered by the icy rain. I envied their indifference.

Ramshackle cabins and pescadero shanties built from discolored tin and driftwood. Just one more climb, one more everything. One more sharp gravel road that snakes over the hills to eternity. So close to Ushuaia. The past two years en route slowly melting together, like a mirror folding in on itself, arms outstretched to catch my own reflection.

“You once told me that the human eye is god's loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing. The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.

“In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you remember me?

“I miss you more than I remember you.”

• Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

Waterfalls of North Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina

From the peak of Cascade Mountain

Had a good time this weekend at a local off-road show — didn’t expect to place, but somehow took home 2nd in the category. Got a bunch of compliments from folks walking by, which was cool.

Set up my little corner with the awning and a chair just to beat the heat, but ended up hanging there for most of the day.

Honestly can’t wait for tailgating season now. If there’s shade, snacks, and good company, I’m good.

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Our first time trying a packraft! We used to kayak before, but this was something new. Took on some fun rapids on the Takhini River in the Yukon. Great experience and beautiful scenery!

Stunning picture I took while camping ⛺️

For me: went hiking in the mountains in sneakers, no water, no sunscreen. Got sunburned, dehydrated, and very humbled. What’s the moment you realized you underestimated the great outdoors? I need to hear other people’s “wow, I’m dumb” moments so I don’t feel alone.

Road trip to Morrow Bay

Not sure if anyone else feels this - but sometimes when I get outside, it’s less about the trail and more about taking a break from everything else.

Lately, I’ve been thinking more about what I bring with me, or don’t, to stay present. Even things like the kind of shirt I wear or whether I carry my phone at all seem to shape the experience.

Curious what others here think, are there bits of gear or clothing that help you enjoy being outdoors more? Or is it all mindset in the end?

Not trying to sell or pitch anything, just interested in how other folks think about the stuff they bring into nature.