It’s beautiful driving down State Route 20 at 8 o’clock in the evening in my old, beat-up 1989 Toyota Corolla that I never, ever clean. My radio is dead and so I sing “Baby, I miss you” through the four arched scratches on my windshield towards mountains of trees.

I’m getting the hell out. Away from all the stress and shaking off the day. Onward to North Cascades National Park.

It’s getting dark by the time my best friend Alia and I turn our wheels into Goodell Creek Campground. We pick a spot in the trees with the sound of the Skagit River pinging like windchimes in a winter storm. Perfect. We make a fire, s’mores and stare up at the stars in dumb awe as we rehash all the stupid shit we used to traveling around Latin America. Read More