Perfectly Useless Concentration

There seemed to be so few dark hours in Banff. By 5:30 a.m., the sun was already gilding the edges of the window shades. Moose Hotel and Suites had opened just a few weeks earlier, and the lobby still smelled of sawdust and paint, that heady promise of new construction...

                           Photo by Adrian Collins Photography 

We woke up at 7 a.m. on the fifth day of our trip. By now, I had such little concept of what day of the week it was that I messaged a friend,...

Waterton Lakes is a town too beautiful, too idyllic, to be real. It's a movie set of quaint log cabins and flowerpots hanging from windowsills, the bright gardenias and carnations and poppies decorating even the older, shabbier motels so that they look charming and Eur...

Glacially eroded pebbles on the banks of Lake McDonald, by Adrian Collins Photography

In the women's cabin, no one slept well or for long--we were too concerned, ironically, with waking one another up. So for the five or so hours of darkness, the silence was marred only...

Somewhere in Montana. 

When our alarm went off at seven a.m., the motel room in Sandpoint was already bright with sunshine. I groaned, but Adrian hopped out of bed as if he'd been awake for hours.

"Come on!" he chirped. "It's our first day of riding! It's going to be glo...

 Photo by Adrian Collins Photography

I like to think I have an adventurous spirit, a tendency to say, Sure, why not? before, No, I don't think so. Adrian calls me his little "goer" because I'm usually willing and excited to try new things, especially if those things mak...