Since my first Pct adventure in 2016, I have shed my perceived exterior a multitude of times. I consider myself an onion, gradually peeling back one layer at a time, on the ultimate quest to discover myself and embrace the authentic being residing in my inner core. The loss of some of those layers makes me cry, some cause me to scream, some to laugh. All are pre-conceived notions placed on me by society, other people projecting onto me, or false identities I have adopted. The process is brutal, but one I am committed to. Who am I? I am a warrior. I am a survivor. I am stubborn as hell. I am a high school dropout. I am sometimes a mess. I am weird. I am gay. I am an advocate for all those hikers that dont fit between the lines. I am proud of the person I am finally letting myself be. I am Matador. I am a thru-hiker.
Posts
A 40-Mile Day, Drawn by the Lure of McDonald’s
My feet propel over gritty sand in boisterous strides, as my eyes scan the five feet of visible trail ahead of me. The narrow beam of light produced
Dirty Water and Magic in the Desert
I open my eyes to darkness enveloping my surroundings like inky satin. The shadow of a dream tickles my consciousness, in a vulnerable place behind
It Feels Like Coming Home
Small pebbles of milky quartz and granite studded with shimmering mica crunch satisfyingly below my brand-new trail runners. Beneath them is a
Ancient Wisdom, Timeless Grief on the Choquequirao Trek
I round a corner on trail; vivid, violet wildflowers grope my sweaty shirt as I pass. Lazy, looping vines wearing a shade of forest green dangle
Embracing Pachamama on the Choquequirao Trek
The slow-moving fog encompasses me in an eerie embrace, as the world is lost in a sea of gray. It presses against my chest, questioning my presence,
Stolen Hiking Shoes, a Leaky Tent, and the Art of Spanglish on the Ausangate Trek
Hey Matador, Lapsang mutters to me from the darkness, is your sleeping bag all wet? Yup, pretty damn soaked, I mumble back from my state of
Two Gringos, Swarming Children, and a Persistent Dog on the Ausangate Trek
Hola! Hola! Hola gringos, parrots a group of dirt-smeared Peruvian kids. The mud appears almost regal on the youths, complementing their beautiful
I Hear a Beautiful Symphony in the Call of the Trail
The purest, most enchanting note emanates through the air. Its vibrations course down my body, pooling in the delicate space in the center of my