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Since 1990, Patagonia field reports have offered intense glimpses of nature’s front lines through the eyes of athletes, travelers and adventurers.

Covering the diverse ground between geography lesson, sport journal and anecdotal meandering, these essays all share a passion for life. A passion we tap into whenever possible and celebrate time and again by sharing our stories with others. We hope that reading these essays provides you with insight, amusement and inspiration for journeys near and far, engaging in the environment and exploring your comfort zone. We’ll be adding to this collection throughout the year, so be sure to check back for more.

To Catch Fish

Twenty-five years ago, a Japanese friend gave me a telescoping fiberglass pole with no reel seat. It was a beautiful, precious gift; light, sensitive, and elegant. When I received this tenkara rod, I didn’t really understand what I was getting. I stored it on a shelf in my cabin for 15 years until one day I decided to try it on a willow-lined meadow creek in the Wyoming Range.

To Catch Fish

Crazy Charlie

The basic ingredients of any fly are simple: feather, fiber, thread and hook. But when combined in a way that consistently triggers a strike in a fish—those simple ingredients become the stuff of legend. The “Crazy Charlie” fly is one of these.

Crazy Charlie

What’s the “Why?” Notes from a crash-test dummy

About a half-century ago, the French mountain guide and author Gaston Rébuffat wrote one of the rare nonpoetic, strictly practical sections of his classic book Starlight and Storm: “Personal equipment should be warm, light, strong and of first-class quality … [it] will be severely tested, and it must be in perfect condition before every climb.”

What’s the “Why?”: Notes from a crash-test dummy

Reinvention

One-thousand-foot streaks of water oozed down the mass jumble of gray rock like dripping black fangs. Ice chunks floated peacefully by until one landed close by and exploded, spraying us with shrapnel. Clouds rushed overhead, then dissipated as they entered the cirque we’d hiked through earlier that morning. We were at 14,000 feet, high on the Diamond, Colorado’s premier big wall.

Reinvention

Deep Fatigue

My red and white umbrella casts a meager shadow over the path; puffs of hot dust lift from each footstep as I lengthen my stride across the flat ground. Around the next corner, I finally see the summit of Kunyang Chish East (24,278 feet), another unclimbed peak in the Karakoram Range of Pakistan.

Deep Fatigue

Old Friend Fear

“Yotei is not a challenging climb. It’s a six-hour walk – no ropes, no crampons. All you’ll need is a pair of snowshoes and a couple of Asahis,” my husband assures me. He knows mentioning my other love – beer – will help me forget about my fears, if only for milliseconds. “What about Friday’s surf spot? What kind of break is it?”

Old Friend Fear

Merci Beaucoup

“I can take you there, but you can’t write about it,” says Dave, looking over a tree-choked mountainside blanketed in 15 inches of fresh. “I dipped down there this morning,” he adds, “you can almost see my skin-track under that cliff.” He points with his pole, a bent one emblazoned with the logo of a ski shop over 2,200 miles to the west.

Merci Beaucoup

Stash

There it is. A shot of powder so pristine, I almost feel guilty tracking it up. There’s no point in looking over my shoulder—no one is there. I could never explain exactly how to get here: A few turns, a traverse, a side step, a tree duck and then it opens up. A magical alleyway. My stash.

Stash

Field Reports Archive

Since 1990, Patagonia field reports have offered intense glimpses of nature’s front lines through the eyes of athletes, travelers and adventurers. Covering the diverse ground between geography lesson, sport journal and anecdotal meandering, these essays all share a passion for life.