There we were, jet-lagged, overdressed in rhinestone-studded velour Sweatsedos and out of sorts in an unattractive industrial area of Dubai. Our Tahoe band was nowhere near the 2,700-foot Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building, and we were not about to board some sheik’s mega yacht...
Summer skiing has never been high on my priority list. Unlike some of my Tahoe friends—like TQ contributor Brennan Lagasse, who has skied 226 consecutive months—my winter-centric brain cells are usually laid to rest by May, pushed aside by ambitions of hiking, biking and jumping...
In the spring of 2017, I salvaged an old Chevy Astro from my home near Lake Tahoe, built a bed frame in the back, and traveled around the western half of America and mainland Mexico. In the spring of 2020, I bought a colonial house...
Fear of missing out is real for many Napa Valley visitors. Both first-timers and veterans often arrive at the epicurean playground brandishing a packed agenda that leaves no tasting room or table unturned. Guilty....
We took our final trip together in the fall of 2018. I was 28 with no job and no money. She was 14 with no suspension and no reliable air conditioning. As an undisciplined freelance writer earning tens of dollars a month, I could no longer...
Sitting in the shade of a makeshift awning made out of an old vinyl billboard, we’re poured into our camp chairs like melted cheddar. The visceral desert heat wilts any ambition to move from our slumped positions. Icy drinks and breezy conversations are about all...
My wife, daughter and I were waiting out the midday heat in a casita in the southern Mexican city of Oaxaca when a text lit up my phone. Two of my Tahoe friends were planning a large group ski trip to Japan, and they asked...
Urumqi, China. Ever heard of it? The city boasts a population of more than 3.5 million, yet I had never heard of it until landing there in late January 2020. Its airport serves Altay, an even more remote prefecture in the far northern reaches of...
Sometimes it’s not about the destinations we visit so much as the in-between places along the way—even when those places are in the middle of nowhere....
Concrete chalk. That was the texture of the snow on Taos’ West Basin, a steep and slippery swath of terrain at New Mexico’s biggest ski area. It was also the venue of the next day’s big-mountain competition, which I was in. Hard as heck, but...