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On our way to the Appalachian Trail – White trash doing white trash things.

DAY ONE Somewhere in Illinois. . I pulled the mummy bag down so that only my face was exposed. Even having been tucked deeply into the bag, the tip of my nose was numb. “Remember when I forgot the tent poles and ruined the trip?” I said out loud into the air inside the van. […]

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36

Spanish Wells. The shooting.

Adam had been gone for two weeks and would be gone for two more. I am very comfortable being alone on the boat by myself. It is safe here. You won’t believe this in a minute but I swear it to be true. The first thing a local said to us when we arrived in Spanish Wells […]

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35

Key West. And the really windy day.

It has been said that sailing is 90% boredom and 10% terror. One day in early January, Adam and I were entertaining my mom and her husband in Key West. We were walking back to them, from moving their car, when a friend texted me and said, “there are boats in the channel by you, […]

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34

Cuba. The closest I have come to dying.

“You think we should turn back?” he asked. I cocked my head to the side and met what I could see of his concerned eyes in the dark, over his hands, which were tightly gripping the steering wheel. His muscles were taut at the tops of his tanned arms. His body swayed harshly back and […]

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