Four years ago on a warm June morning, I had just finished volunteering as a paddle boarder keeping swimmers in check during the Couer d’Alene Ironman, a race I had completed a couple of times myself. Skirting along the shore heading towards where my car was parked, my fit caught a rock and I was thrown off into the shallow water.
Only about three feet deep, there wasn’t enough water to slow my fall; I landed on my wrists and holy shit that hurt. Thinking it was just a bad sprain I iced it and touched it out for a few weeks. It got better and soon enough I was back to cycling and climbing and normal life.
But then after a few years, the pain came back with vengeance.
Again, I just dealt with it for awhile until riding my bike became too much. A nasty wreck on a gravel road because I was riding one-handed sealed the deal: I was no longer bike worthy and it was time to figure this thing out.
Turns out, that paddle board fall a few years back both broke my wrist and blew up a tendon in my hand. The tendon keeps some of the wrist bones, which kind of float in space, lined up and functioning. Mine had moved all around and were no longer useful. Wrist reconstruction was needed to remove those three bones and rebuild the joint with a different bone.
Lesson: go to the fucking doctor if you think you’re injured.
It’s about 30 degrees outside and I’m currently in my sleeping bag in a cabin at Field Springs State Park in SE Washington. Earlier today we celebrated the end of 2025 with a hike, some snacks at altitude, and a summit activation (for me, at least).
When the year officially rolls over (00:00UTC) all of the SOTA summit yearly points are reset, so a ton of operators go out and bang-bang a summit in both 2025 and 2026.
Field Springs State Park isn’t too far from me, about a 90-minute drive south. In the winter it has groomed XC and snowshoe trails, complete with a warming chalet right up on the summit. I booked a cabin in the park hoping we could backcountry ski or snowshoe up to the hut but the unusually mild winter didn’t quite accommodate. A simple snow hike would have to do.
Up at the hut, Corrie made a fire in the stove while I set up my antenna and snapped a few photos of the surrounding canyon. The views are pretty amazing, esp at sunset.
I cracked open an Aperol spritz and after spotting myself on 7.063 was fortunate to have several chasers come back to be nice and S-L-O-W. This was only my second CW attempt on the air, but it went relatively well. Better than the first time. I banged out a few more QSOs on SBB and then waited for the hour to flip. A few more to re-activate the summit in the new year and that was that.
Time for dinner. We packed small meal of nuts, olives, smoked salmon, and a baguette. Oh and that bottle of Cava that was chilling outside in the snow. We played a few rounds of card games and called it an early night. Now I’m just scribbling out some reflections and hopes for the year ahead.
Along with the year tick-over, I’ve also recently turned 46. Holy shit. Time is a fast-mover and I can’t help but to feel like I need to keep making the most of it.
In past years I’ve set a few large goals that required months and months of preparation to achieve. Ironman races, multi-hundred mile bike rides, complete shifts in careers… that kind of goal-setting is not only exhausting but is also risky. If you miss, it can feel like a total failure.
I’m going to lean more towards a consistent series of “hard things” sprinkled somewhat evenly throughout the calendar. Surely, not all will end in success, but they should all make be a slightly better person by the time I hit 47.
Goals I’ve Concocted for 2026:
read 26 books
amateur extra radio license
Log 260 CW QSOs
W7W/WE summits: reach 26 total activations (currently at 12)
W7I summits: reach 26 total activations (currently at 19)
run a pb at the seattle marathon (26.2 miles)
shoot *more* film (buy *less* cameras)
personal summit list (bag more of ’em)
Some of these are quantifiable, others are feelings, and a couple are intentionally vague. I don’t want to be more busy, rather I want to be more intentional with my time. Let’s see how that goes—I might just spend my weekends drinking beers and eating sandwiches.
I originally took on K2VFZ shortly after earning my Technician license. The 7 call area covers much of the Mountain West, which fits my time in Arizona and Washington. My grandfather (K2VFZ sk) also held a 7-area callsign after moving from New Jersey to Arizona in the early 1980s, so K7VFZ ends up as a natural mash-up of the callsigns we’ve both held.
About a week ago I had surgery on my nose and it hasn’t been particularly fun. I’m still in the “take it easy” phase and am not supposed to do any strenuous exercise or lifting until, I think next weekend. So this weekend, home alone, I’ve been diligently working on various side and personal projects.
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Every time I make some statement that I’m no longer going to take on sidework, a tsunami of inquiries rushes me and like an addict, I just take them all on. Finally, after some hours put in these past few days, I think I’ve got my side-job workload back down to zero.
As I’m sunken comfortably into my sofa devising this list, my nose is swollen to twice it’s size; recovering from a septoplasty & turbinoplasty less than 48 hours ago, I feel pretty rough and am instructed to “take it easy” for the next two weeks.
Mitigating the inevitable mental spiral whilst sitting around dreaming of what I could be doing: plan, plan, plan.
And so here is my list of 10 peaks I’d like to bag in 2025, in no particular order:
Chewelah Mountain, 5776 ft | Selkirks, WA Looks to be so straightforward, I’m not sure why I haven’t yet done it. May be a good early season hike, perhaps in May or early June. peakbagger.com
Calispell Peak, 6858 ft | Selkirks, WA Not visually impressive, not technical, but it has some good elevation. peakbagger.com
Black Peak, 8991 ft | North Cascades, WA I’ve camped at the base of Black Peak before, one of the most beautiful overnighters I’ve ever had. Unortunately due to some poor navigating and suboptimal sock choices, I ended up with severe blisters that prohibited me from climbing anything sketch. This year, I want to go back. peakbagger.com
Earl Peak, 7039 ft | South Cascades, WA Attempted Earl last summer with my bro-in-law but we got off-route on the approach from Bean Peak and had to scramble down the side. It’s absolutely doable as a day hike but worth the effort to string together a couple of other summits. peakbagger.com
Mt Stuart, 9419 ft | South Cascades, WA Will hopefully tackle this Bulger with my bro-in-law later this summer. He did it last year and had invited me, but I had obligations or some such bullshit. peakbagger.com
Halsey Butte, 5399 ft | Blue Mountains, WA The Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness Area is known for its remote, rugged terrain. This peak is not oft visited and has earned my attention. peakbagger.com
Eagle Cap, 9572 ft | Wallowa Mountains, OR The Wallowas are one of our favorite places to explore—just shocking beautiful scenery. With how many times we’ve camped, hiked, biked, etc. it’s surprising to me how little of the range we’ve actually gotten up into. peakbagger.com
Ironview Peak, 5024 ft | Superstitions, AZ Unfortunately in all of my years of hiking Arizona, I never got into peak bagging. It was all low land, canyoneering and cross-country exploring. Maybe after I recover from this nose job, I’ll book a weekend flight and nab this sucker under the guise of a family visit. peakbagger.com
Reeti*, 9042 ft | Northern Alps, SWI This is a symbolic summit in that, I’ll be traveling to Switzerland this summer to do some trail running, hiking, photographing, and chocolate eating. Certainly, a summit in the Alps will be gained but which one specifically I don’t yet know. peakbagger.com
Mica Peak, 5203 ft | Selkirks, WA A solid day trip, perhaps with snowshoes. Hopefully this will be done and dusted before April. peakbagger.com
Boy, this last year was a real fuckin’ churn. Trying to make sense of all that swirled around us can bring on the most piercing of migraines–yet here we are. Looking over our shoulders while blindly anticipating the next few steps.
Despite the shitshow that the world continuously reveals itself to be, life around here has been quite tender lately. Some personal progress and time-well-spent with my loving partner has superseded the things printed in the news.
The calendar has flipped as well as my age. The time to reflect is here, once again, in the form of some non-committal list making.
The Outs 👏
chaco
digital
gin & tonic
run it dry
fleece sweater
“what-ifs”
trails
0.7mm pencils
internal thoughts
papa murphy’s
racing to the start line
posting
lattes
teevee
In/Still In 🤘
birkenstock
analog
wine
zipper lube
waffle hoodie
1% improvements
bushwhacks
0.9mm pencils
journaling
crock pot meals
enjoying the process
printing
cappuccinos
card games & puzzles
One tradition I dodged this past year was event-driven endurance racing. Besides a turkey trot there were no marathons, bike races, trail runs, triathlons, or any such sort. That was all fine and well, but I do miss the buildup to and the effort during these events. So here are a few I’ve scribbled on the calendar for 2025:
No big reaches there, just some milestones that’ll require consistent good ‘ol fashioned work.
I’m also preparing for a long-term photography project that should be both challenging and rewarding. No specifics to share yet but at some point this spring/summer I’m sure that I will have a working page dedicated to it’s progress.
Am also hoping to make progress learning two new “languages”: German and Morse Code.
And finally, while there are no tickets yet purchased, there are some travel plans to exciting new places in 2025.
To summarize: I’m hoping to maintain a level of chill and a smile. Do more with what I have and let go of the wants for things I don’t have.
One of my “ten essentials” when heading out into the backcountry is my Garmin inReach Mini 2. It’s been an incredibly useful tool for getting texts out to my partner (or whomever) when completely out of cell service, which tends to be quite frequent ’round these parts. Aside from the convenience of friendly texts, it provides a sense of security as an oh shit device incase things get real bad and self-rescuing is not an option.
Downside: the little sucker tends to fly out of pockets as I’m biking down bumpy trails or ‘shwacking through thick vegetation. Using a biner to clip it onto a pack is 100% advisable and I follow that advice 90% of the time.
Last month I got out for one last bikepacking overnighter before the cold season fully took grasp. My inReach was tucked into a little pocket on the side of one of my handlebar bags and lived there the entire trip–sans clip. The ride was a rough one, both in road surface and in general effort. We were pretty spent by the end of it.
Following weekend as I prepped for a hike it occurred to me that the inReach wasn’t anywhere I expected it to be.
Not in my usual drawer of outdoor electronics. Not connected to my SOTA backpack. Not in my bike bag pocket where I had the weekend before. Not floating around in the back of the Honda. And not in my buddy’s truck.
Sure, when we were bombing down that one hill on Day 2 and hit some of the roughest washboard this side of the Cascades, the little guy musta jumped out my bag and bounced his way to freedom. I immediately began looking for a replacement, but it hurt to think about paying for a brand-new one… even though, it’s invaluable.
I gave it a week. Then two. Occasionally looking through the local Craiglist for postings of a found, or even recognizable for sale, inReach. Nada.
Well fuck me if just a few hours ago I didn’t go looking for a usb power brick when there it was. Sitting right in the drawer where it shouldn’t be, but I can see how it seemed logical at the time in my post-ride haze.
All this is to say, I’m glad that I’ve found my inReach. And I swear that I’ll never travel with it unsecured again.
I’m no longer taking freelance work* so there was no real need to keep a professional site going for design stuff. If you arrived here via https://mackey.design you’ve got the correct online presence.
This is the new manifest—an untidy home to anything I deem worthy of the time it takes to upload & type.
