In the Beginning: Maple Syrup, Birches, White Hills
I grew up in New Hampshire, where I whiled away my youth hiking and camping in the White Mountains.
Steve in 110mph winds on Mount Washington, NH
Apart from a summer spent selling ice cream bars at Sea World in San Diego, I didn’t stray far from home despite an ever-growing urge to sashay.
Steel Town and France
After graduating from UNH (BA, English; minor Religious Studies), I headed for Pittsburgh to pursue a PhD.
In 1997, I obtained my MA (English Literature), finished my PhD coursework (Critical Theory), and was awarded a fellowship to study in Paris.
Somewhat ironically, it was in The City of Lights that I gained a profound respect for erudition while simultaneously realizing I was not cut out for scholarship.
Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood…
In late 1999, I returned home and taught writing at my alma mater (UNH) while serving as a wilderness ranger in the White Mountains.
The commute from North Conway to Durham was challenging at best, downright frightening at worst. So, I exchanged that commute for one of the worst best in the world, accepting a weather observer position atop Mount Washington (home of the world’s worst weather).
The allure of working in extreme weather and remote places was strong. But, in the summer of 2002, I met Adriana, a researcher for the Appalachian Mountain Club. Life in the woods suddenly seemed less intriguing.
Head West, Young Man
When Adriana received a job offer in Denver, I forsook the thick conifer forests of the North Country for the ponderosa pines of Colorado.
From 2002-2004, I photographed snow crystals, tested de-icing fluids, and built websites for researchers at NCAR. In August of 2004, however, I was lured away by the DATC job and I’ve been quite content ever since.
Atop Flagstaff Mountain, Steve and his cycling pals
Nowadays my adventures are mostly confined to the hour I have at lunch, which I spend in the company of hale and light-hearted cycling Frenz. Our lunchtime rides are renowned, less as feats of endurance than as trash-talk tours de force.
That’s it for me. I look forward to meeting you and hearing your story!