Published: “Four Directions of Standing Rock”

Check out my latest piece on the intense and short supply run I made to Standing Rock, ND, site of the largest inter-tribal protection of the sacred in modern history.

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There’s something up ahead blocking the highway. Look: Lights. Glowing like a football stadium. Military checkpoint.

“Hi, officer. We’re off to, uh, Fort Yates. That’s it. What’s all this for?”

Stupid question. He knows why we’re here, why my housemate Harrison and I are pulling up at 1 a.m. outside Bismarck, North Dakota, with a truck full of supplies.

“Oh, up ahead 20 miles we’ll find a protest?” I say. Officer peers into my truck.

“Supplies,” he murmurs to the soldier on his left. Won’t look me in the eyes though I’ve tried twice. Hard when he’s gripping a semiautomatic. “Move on through. Careful up ahead.”

Read the full article here. 

Featured Story in Hometown Paper

My hometown newspaper in Calaveras County, Northern California, ran a well-written story  on some of the adventures I’ve been up to since graduating high school. 

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Nick Triolo is a man on the move. An author, teacher and internationally recognized activist, the 32-year-old endurance runner finds peace and purpose by literally putting one step in front of the other.

A successful and affable student-athlete at Bret Harte High School, the 2001 graduate participated in sports, music and student government – all pursuits that ultimately influenced his future.

“At Bret Harte, I didn’t want to be pigeonholed by any particular clique, so I made inroads with just about everyone,” Triolo said about his “super-active” Bullfrog days. “High school was where I really cranked up my industriousness, getting involved in everything I could.”

Thanks so much! Grateful. Read the entire article. 

Twenty-Three Days

Back from three+ weeks in Peru. First half of the trip? Putting together a 3-day, 80-mile circumnavigation fastpack of the remote, rugged Cordillera Huayhuash with Portland friends Willie McBride and Brian Donnelly. Second half? A solo trip through Cusco, Machu Picchu, and Arequipa’s high volcanoes. Art. Coffee. Craft beer.  Festivals. Dogs. Earth-shattering trip. Photo essay below; writing pronto.

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Return to Todos Santos, Mexico

Ten beautiful days back in Todos Santos, BCS, Mexico, proved restorative, nostalgic, and productive. Photos + words.

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Todos Santos Music Festival. Death Cab for Cutie. Santa Cecilia. John Paul Jones from Led Zeppelin. David Fricke from Rolling Stone Magazine. Dharma Talks. Todos Santos Writer’s Workshop. Cerritos surf. Late night music jam with old friends and family. Fish tacos, ceviche, everything covered in lime. And arroyo running. Lots of arroyo running. Todos Santos in Southern Baja remains one of my favorite spots on the planet. Great trip south of the border this time, packed with inspiring people and events.

A synchronized sunrise run was organized around the world by my running sponsor Territory Run Co. so a dear artist friend and I went out for a hunt.

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Jackrabbit crosses the path as we start up, start in, start out. A swerve left. A swerve right. Sandy paths, fishtailing feet. Go. Go. Go. The sun is making things pink over there, over in the Sierra. Hurry.

Down the arroyo. Technical. Watch that prickly stuff—ocotillo, pitaya dulce, torote, cardon. Baja wilds have teeth; they bite. Catch a toe, take a fall, and you bleed.

Go faster. Sun about to crest. That knife-edge ridge above the cactus canyon is where I want to be for sunrise. Cross a wide arroyo choked in sand. Common to see coyote here. None today.

A climb. Colin behind me with a long stride, a graceful gait, an adjunct art professor from Bennington College, Vermont. Solid man.

Climb. Climb. Climb. Up the ridge we make it, only to flare off a pair of white-dotted birds. Rustle in the bramble right of my ankle. Once saw a six-foot rattler here. Only the wind this time. Onshore, 25 mph today, Colin tells me.

We reach the ridge of awe. I smell torote peel, like cinnamon. There’s my heart beating. There’s warmth. There’s red. There’s orange. There’s that fiery reminder that all things in nature reset. Everyday. The sun rises, and us with it. Bees nearby, too, have risen to collect pollen by the pound next to us. Industrious bastards.

Awe. Reverence. Simplicity. Migration. I think of my home in Missoula where ice fringes everything. I recognize my privilege to be here in Todos Santos, Mexico. And I’m grateful to my core for this place, this moment, this friend, this sun.

We keep noticing. We keep attending. The great dawn helps us attune and attend with its shadow and easy light. We descend through hundred-year old cacti that look like stampeding elephant legs and return to van, to coffee, to family, to life.

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In Photo: The Circumambulation of Mount Tamalpais

A photo essay from organizing the 50th year anniversary circumambulation of Mount Tamalpais, after poets Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, and Philip Whalen made their historic walk in 1965.

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This past weekend, I organized the 50th year celebration of the circumambulation of Mount Tamalpais, just north of San Francisco, California. On October 22, 1965, Beat poets Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, and Philip Whalen ceremonially walked around Mount Tamalpais to “open the mountain,” and pay respect to their local bioregion. The three stopped at 8 self-designed stations along this 14-mile loop to conduct prayer and mantra.

Since the historic circumambulation, a dedicated group from the area have done this ritual walk every solstice and equinox, starting and finishing at Muir Woods National Monument. The leader of the tradition, Matthew Davis, (co-author of Opening the Mountain) recently died, so this walk was also a celebration of his life and dedication to place and practice. His son, Oren, led the circumambulation in his honor.

Here are some photos from this incredible day, paired with words from The Living Mountain by Nan Shepard, an absolute lyrical masterpiece. Organizing this circumambulation was part of a larger creative project, and an article will be coming out January 2016 for the inaugural issue of We Move Magazine. Stay tuned.

May such place-based traditions continue, and with their continuation may they remind us to slow, to inhabit our local woods and hills with greater intimacy, curiosity, and humility. May we continue to develop our kinship with ever-revolving change.

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“The talking tribe, I find, want sensation from the mountain — not in Keat’s sense. Beginners, not unnaturally, do the same — I did myself. They want the startling view, the horrid pinnacle — sips of beer and tea instead of milk. Yet often the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him.”

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Cold Water: Reflections of Baja

A short, 4-minute film update “Cold Water: Reflections of Baja,” expressing gratitude for all the support for our documentary “The Crossing.”


Super excited to share with you “Cold Water: Reflections from Baja,” a short, 4-minute update and thank you for all the supporters of our film “The Crossing.” Includes some great video from our Spring 2015 screening at the Todos Santos International Film Festival, giving a $1000 scholarship for Ecology Project International in Mexico, and me awkwardly attempting to play the ukulele. Thanks again everyone for helping make this project happen. It’s been incredibly powerful. Much more to come.

 

Published: “Running in Circles,” Trail Runner Magazine

Excited to see my newest piece “Running In Circles” in print for the October 2015 issue of Trail Runner Magazine. A meandering article and photos about the magic found in choosing circuitous routes. Look for it at your local magazine rack. Excerpt below!    

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“Throughout the day, I sometimes felt strong and sometimes struggled–this is the psychophysical interplay that makes circuitous routes compelling. How I felt on one side of the mountain reflected the behavior of the exposure itself–its contours, its trail conditions, its shade and water availability.”

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