FLYING chips of ice sparkled in the July sun as I hammered a pick into the 1,200-foot-high sheet of ice and snow called the Dana Couloir in Yosemite National Park. I was suspended on the side of a mountain in a couloir, an icy gully, by the points of ...
MAMMOTH LAKES, Calif. For many years, cars loaded with skis and snowboards sped past the turnoff to Hot Creek in the eastern Sierra on their way to the Mammoth Mountain Ski Area. Now, some winter visitors are stopping to fly fish at one of California’s ...
STOCKTON, Calif. A web of interconnected rivers and sloughs, the California Delta drains the northern Sierras into San Francisco Bay and is home to about a million striped bass. Like the anglers who fish for them, the striped bass here are the ...
Doug Nidever, the former chief guide at Yosemite, climbing Horsetail Falls in the Sierra Nevada. (Bill Becher for The New York Times) JUNE LAKE, California: Pinned 100 feet up a frozen wall by the picks I have hammered into the ice and the toothy bite ...
ANSEL ADAMS WILDERNESS, Calif. — The sound of drumming hooves rolled across Thousand Island Lake toward Banner Peak, draped with gleaming white glaciers. A dozen riders on horses appeared in a cloud of dust — a sight I had seen before only in Western ...
Michael Reardon, an internationally renowned rock climber who climbed without a rope or safety equipment, is presumed dead after he was swept away by a wave Friday off the coast of Ireland. Reardon, 42, was on Valentia Island off the southwest coast ...
MUSTANG. The word conjures up images of the Old West — a wild horse running free on the range in a big blue-sky world, a renegade. I watch as a tall mustang stallion escorts his six mares. He pulls his ears back in warning, and the other wild horses ...
Michael Reardon hanging out on the gritstone at Stanage during a free-solo climbing trip to Peak District National Park in Derbyshire, Britain. CALABASAS, Calif. — Forty feet up a sheer rock face without a rope, Michael Reardon reaches out and touches ...
Paragliders must kite their canopies before they can begin to soar. "Run, run like Wile E. Coyote," yelled my instructor. His directions boomed like the voice of God from the small radio clipped to my helmet as I charged off a 200-foot-high ...
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