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I sat across from my coach, a man I’ve known for more than thirty years. HUGE personality, big successes, multiple New York Times bestsellers. You’d think he wouldn’t need to trample all over and hijack other’s work, but he does.

I know his personal history, which isn’t for publication. That’s his journey. Mine has ever been establishing a kind “no” when he’s stomped all over me with his Doc Martens.

Years ago we worked on a book together. I came to him in January 2010 with a very clear idea in mind, as well a title: “Wordfood.” My idea, my…

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Sisyphus: a legendary king of Corinth condemned eternally to repeatedly roll a heavy rock up a hill in Hades only to have it roll down again as it nears the top.

Bet you know how that feels. Me too.

I woke up in my own bed about an hour ago, the smell of my neighbor’s dog poop wafting into the open window. Sigh. I’m home. I lit a candle, turn the fan on. No biggie. Small rock.

This is about the Big Rocks.

A moment ago I hefted a very large rock that I had harvested off the small highway…

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The older I get (I’m 68) the longer I am in the fitness world as a practitioner, and as a consumer of The Next New Idea, the more annoyed I get at the endless exhortations to fast (in other words, starve) or to push til you drop (which is a good way to die young) and here’s what I do to get PERFECT SIX PACK ABS.

Kindly, we all have six or seven -pack abs. They may well be hiding, for most of us, under plenty of padding from IHOP pancake feasts, but they are there. …

the view from the kitchen Julia Hubbel

The dry needles crunched underfoot as we hiked through the high forest. We’d just come out of the rolling meadow where the late spring flowers were in exuberant bloom. Orvel Ray exclaimed that I couldn’t possibly have stayed with them at a more perfect time, as all the wildflowers were at their peak. As far as the eye could see, wild iris and wild rose and every other imaginable bloom swayed prettily in the mid-afternoon breezes.

This is Rocky Mountain high country. By mid-June the aspens are completely leafed out, the migrating birds have settled in for the summer and…

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Tomorrow I head back across Wyoming to spend two more driving days on the road, which will wrap this short-for-me vacay cum business trip. I just spent a quarter of an hour on the phone with my social media buddy JC, with whom I’d planned to spend more time. That plan got shot in the butkus by Idahoan summer hotel price gouging.

Together we searched the hotel bookings, and found out that the average hotel was at least fifty to a hundred bucks or more higher than anything else either on the Oregon side or the Utah side. Pandemic travel…

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The moment there is a path, others follow. Widen the path, it becomes a street. Widen the street it’s a highway.

Soon there is nothing left to see but concrete.

Last week I drove to Denver via Boise, and spent the weekend driving south to Santa Fe. In my wanderings around the Denver area, which I called home for fifty years, like all the generations before me, I noticed what had happened to the land I once loved, and what continues to happen in the name of the brute force we euphemistically call “progress.”

I am quite unabashed in my…

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Dear Reader: I do not have a financial arrangement with any of the locations in this story. These people are part of my life and I share their post-Covid stories with you in hopes that you will, like me, be highly motivated to find, support and refer to the small, dedicated business owners in your area.

Denver, Colorado, June 2021

Two businesses. Two stories. Two very different outcomes. I found both during my wanderings around my old home of Denver this past week. Both had been significantly affected by the pandemic.

After a year under quarantine, I drove from Eugene…

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Dear Reader: this is a further exploration of a trip in progress. I drove from Eugene to Boise, then to Denver. Here are some of my observations along the way of what’s changed in the year since I last drove these roads.

In my previous article about hitting the road early in June to retrace my steps from last year back to Denver and then add on a weekend in Santa Fe, I had just refilled my gas tank in Laramie after coasting into town on fumes. My tank full, I pulled back onto the highway, hours later than planned…

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Note to Dear Reader: as an adventure traveler, being home bound due to my move to Oregon and a slew of injuries has been brutal. This was supposed to be a mini vacay before I get surgery or a brain transplant, whatever keeps me upright. My first cross country trip since I moved last year. I’m sharing my experiences over a few stories.

It’s four-thirty pm and change Mountain Daylight Time. I’m chowing down on a Panera Bread salad, after stopping into three restaurants to find a combination of quiet, an open table, a salad and wifi. Two places didn’t…

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The last few days fellow Medium writer Yael Wolfe and I have been exchanging comments, and one of hers inspired me to write this piece. (For those of you kind enough to be paying attention, this is how I walk my talk when I say that my readers and other authors are among my primary sources for article ideas; plumb the brilliance that shows up in your comment threads. It’s there).

Yael and I are twenty-three years apart in age, but we are Velcroed at the hip in the agony we both feel about how we’ve been treated by the…

Julia E Hubbel

Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

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