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Today, we’re showcasing a My Public Lands submission from Grayson Schaffer, a writer in Santa Fe, NM. 📸

"My favorite public land is Tesuque Peak. It's better known as Ski Santa Fe, because that's the name of the ski area draped across its western flank. What I love most about this mountain is that it manages to balance commercial, recreational, and conservation uses without anybody really pulling rank. You can mountain bike up or down it, riding fire roads or singletrack more than 5,000 vertical feet from the village of Tesuque. You can ski all winter, riding the lift or putting skins on and touring uphill inbounds, whether the resort is open or not. The ski area keeps open boundaries, which means you can duck under the rope and trek into the Pecos Wilderness and ski into the Nambe Basin to the north, or the run known as Big T, to the south. Most years the backcountry skiing is really good! (But not last year. Last year there was no snow.)

In the summer I take my stepdaughters hiking up Raven's Ridge, where they feed the camp robbers bits of sandwich from their palms. In August we hunt porcini mushrooms. In September I shoot grouse with my dogs.

One time, in the fall of 2012, I had a muzzleloader tag for mule deer while a film crew was shooting Lone Survivor on the mountain. I figured I'd try the north side, on the theory that all the fake army men crashing around might push some deer onto the trail called Sunset. Sure enough, a nice 4x4 buck came trotting out into the ski run a hundred yards ahead of me. I shot the deer, and just then the entire hillside erupted in automatic weapons fire. A year later I heard from one of the film's stars that the armorer was freaked out, because he thought someone had jumped his cue and shot too early. Nope. Just me, and I shot at exactly the right time. I love that mountain. It gets used hard and it gets used for all kinds of crazy things, but somehow everyone seems to get along."

🔗 Read “Send Us Your Public Lands” to learn how to share your story
📸 @graysonschaffer

Today, we’re showcasing a My Public Lands submission from Grayson Schaffer, a writer in Santa Fe, NM. 📸

"My favorite public land is Tesuque Peak. It's better known as Ski Santa Fe, because that's the name of the ski area draped across its western flank. What I love most about this mountain is that it manages to balance commercial, recreational, and conservation uses without anybody really pulling rank. You can mountain bike up or down it, riding fire roads or singletrack more than 5,000 vertical feet from the village of Tesuque. You can ski all winter, riding the lift or putting skins on and touring uphill inbounds, whether the resort is open or not. The ski area keeps open boundaries, which means you can duck under the rope and trek into the Pecos Wilderness and ski into the Nambe Basin to the north, or the run known as Big T, to the south. Most years the backcountry skiing is really good! (But not last year. Last year there was no snow.)

In the summer I take my stepdaughters hiking up Raven's Ridge, where they feed the camp robbers bits of sandwich from their palms. In August we hunt porcini mushrooms. In September I shoot grouse with my dogs.

One time, in the fall of 2012, I had a muzzleloader tag for mule deer while a film crew was shooting Lone Survivor on the mountain. I figured I'd try the north side, on the theory that all the fake army men crashing around might push some deer onto the trail called Sunset. Sure enough, a nice 4x4 buck came trotting out into the ski run a hundred yards ahead of me. I shot the deer, and just then the entire hillside erupted in automatic weapons fire. A year later I heard from one of the film's stars that the armorer was freaked out, because he thought someone had jumped his cue and shot too early. Nope. Just me, and I shot at exactly the right time. I love that mountain. It gets used hard and it gets used for all kinds of crazy things, but somehow everyone seems to get along."

🔗 Read “Send Us Your Public Lands” to learn how to share your story
📸 @graysonschaffer

Today, we’re showcasing a My Public Lands submission from Grayson Schaffer, a writer in Santa Fe, NM. 📸

"My favorite public land is Tesuque Peak. It's better known as Ski Santa Fe, because that's the name of the ski area draped across its western flank. What I love most about this mountain is that it manages to balance commercial, recreational, and conservation uses without anybody really pulling rank. You can mountain bike up or down it, riding fire roads or singletrack more than 5,000 vertical feet from the village of Tesuque. You can ski all winter, riding the lift or putting skins on and touring uphill inbounds, whether the resort is open or not. The ski area keeps open boundaries, which means you can duck under the rope and trek into the Pecos Wilderness and ski into the Nambe Basin to the north, or the run known as Big T, to the south. Most years the backcountry skiing is really good! (But not last year. Last year there was no snow.)

In the summer I take my stepdaughters hiking up Raven's Ridge, where they feed the camp robbers bits of sandwich from their palms. In August we hunt porcini mushrooms. In September I shoot grouse with my dogs.

One time, in the fall of 2012, I had a muzzleloader tag for mule deer while a film crew was shooting Lone Survivor on the mountain. I figured I'd try the north side, on the theory that all the fake army men crashing around might push some deer onto the trail called Sunset. Sure enough, a nice 4x4 buck came trotting out into the ski run a hundred yards ahead of me. I shot the deer, and just then the entire hillside erupted in automatic weapons fire. A year later I heard from one of the film's stars that the armorer was freaked out, because he thought someone had jumped his cue and shot too early. Nope. Just me, and I shot at exactly the right time. I love that mountain. It gets used hard and it gets used for all kinds of crazy things, but somehow everyone seems to get along."

🔗 Read “Send Us Your Public Lands” to learn how to share your story
📸 @graysonschaffer

Today marks 30 years since a squall swept across the upper reaches of Everest, killing eight climbers that night in what was then one of the deadliest mountaineering disasters of all time. (By the end of the season, twelve climbers had died on the mountain in all.) Worse, this was at the dawn of Everest’s guided era, when strong, competent Western mountaineers thought they could pacify the mountain’s myriad death traps and build, as Mountain Madness guide and owner Scott Fischer famously put it, “a yellow brick road right to the summit.”

Writer @krakauernotwriting was there as a client of Kiwi Rob Hall’s Adventure Consultants on assignment for Outside, and the magazine story he turned in became the book Into Thin Air, which immediately surged to #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. Far from dissuading would-be clients and guides, the book seems to have supercharged the commercialization of Everest. By the time I was reporting on the mountain regularly in the early twentyteens, mass casualty events had become a regular feature of many seasons. There were the four climbers who couldn’t get themselves down in 2012 despite the good weather, the 2014 serac collapse that killed 16 Sherpa porters, and the avalanche set off by the 2015 Nepal earthquake which took at least 19 lives in Base Camp. The death toll climbed and so did some 13,000 summiters’ apparent ability to memory-hole the disasters and keep coming at the mountain, decade after decade.

Now, 30 years on, Krakauer has written a new foreword to Into Thin Air, chronicling those changes as Vintage Books re-releases the book. I spoke with him at length about that dark and stormy night and the after-effects that are still haunting him today.

Edited text of the interview is at Nationalgeographic.com. If you really want to go down the rabbit hole with us, you can find the full conversation over on YouTube: https://youtu.be/D1u5r4cyY-Q

Still such a thrill to get a magazine story printed! Last summer, @natgeo sent me out to the eastern highlands of Angola to write about a herd of Ghost Elephants thathad disappeared during four decades of war. @drsteveboyes and @_kerllencosta are working with local leaders to protect to the herd that has such profound cultural and ecological importance to the region. It was such a treat getting to romp around the bush in Land Cruisjasperdoesters and canoes with photographer @jasperdoest , who is a true master of documenting the intersection of the animal and human kingdoms.

...and because I know some of my nice friends like to listen to these, I made an audio version and parked it on my soundcloud. Link in bio.

I started reporting this @natgeo profile (link in bio) on the skier @jimwmorrison in 2023 just after his first attempt on Everest’s Hornbein Couloir. That was right around the one-year anniversary of the death of his partner @hilareenelson, and it was not at all clear that he’d ever succeed.

A couple of things to say here that I didn’t get to explain in the piece. First, it’s really hard to overstate the level of skill and risk. It looks like skiing, but it’s every bit of FreeSolo. It was also really dangerous for the crew that climbed with him. The film crew had to ascend one of the true alpine routes of Everest while carrying camera gear in addition to their climbing gear. Their success more than doubled the total number of people who have ever climbed this route.

Second, there’s some confusion, especially among non-skiers, between Jim’s descent and Polish skier @andrzejbargiel descent of the regular southeast ridge route without oxygen. In some ways it’s unfortunate that these feats happened only weeks apart because it means people are going to have to keep explaining the differences rather than just appreciating each for what it was. Bargiel’s accomplishment was superhuman in its own way. Having the fitness to make ski turns without the benefit or warmth of oxygen at the summit of Everest is a mind-blowing, freak-level athletic feat. There’s a reason it didn’t happen until 2025.

On the other hand, Jim’s descent is a difference in kind, not a difference in degree. It’s easily the proudest, most difficult ski descent ever. The Hornbein (about 9,000 vertical feet of 50-degree white ice) would be one of the world's most difficult, aesthetic ski lines even if it ended at sea level. It’s only been tried twice. The first person to attempt it, Italian snowboarder Marco Siffredi, was never seen again. This one was so dangerous that my editors had me prewrite a draft of an obit. That’s a first for me.

Given all that this team went through—losing Hilaree and then making three attempts on this route—I’m imagining that the documentary that comes out of it will be an epic on another level. Excited to see it! Working title Everest North.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

My latest story on the rise of a new class of ski resorts is out in the April issue of @GQ. Photos by @michaelfriberg. Edited by @kstoeffel.

Before I started reporting this story, I thought I was clued into the world of private leisure. Some of my earliest memories are of jumping golf carts off the cart paths at the Congressional Country Club outside of Washington, D.C. and trying to explain to my dad how I’d managed to eat 14 Nutty Buddies in a single billing cycle. When I was nine, we moved out West to a farm outside of Sandpoint, Idaho, to ski and be among nature. I went to a fancy east coast boarding school. In short, I had in my mind a picture of the landscape of wealth and privilege in America.

But private ski resorts are a peephole into another strata entirely—one that’s not only flush but teeming. There are enough ultrahigh-net worth people in America to fill Aspen, Telluride, Deer Valley, and Jackson Hole among a dozen tony mountain towns. According to the Fed, Baby Boomers are holding between $84 trillion and $146 trillion in assets, much of which will be inherited by Millennials in what economists refer to as The Great Wealth Transfer. Add to that spoils of the tech boom, American energy independence, the AI trade, crypto, and a firehose of pandemic-era government spending, and you can start to see how millions of Americans may soon need a fancier place to ski.

Very exciting getting to break the story of Sandy Irvine's discovery for @NatGeo. Link to their website in bio. Thanks to @geoffgagnon for such a solid real-time edit (we had like eight hours to put this together) and Julie Summers for being such a wealth of information on the topic of her great uncle.

Photos by @erichroepke @jimmychin @rgs_ibg

Very exciting getting to break the story of Sandy Irvine's discovery for @NatGeo. Link to their website in bio. Thanks to @geoffgagnon for such a solid real-time edit (we had like eight hours to put this together) and Julie Summers for being such a wealth of information on the topic of her great uncle.

Photos by @erichroepke @jimmychin @rgs_ibg

Very exciting getting to break the story of Sandy Irvine's discovery for @NatGeo. Link to their website in bio. Thanks to @geoffgagnon for such a solid real-time edit (we had like eight hours to put this together) and Julie Summers for being such a wealth of information on the topic of her great uncle.

Photos by @erichroepke @jimmychin @rgs_ibg

We’ve all been driving Toyotas for years, so it was exciting to get tapped by our friends at AMC/Sundance to shoot this BBC America branded piece featuring the new 2024 Tacoma. Bird’s Eye View was Directed by @shaandiin , DP’d by @simonasher , and stars legendary wildlife cinematographer @coneflower_studios , this piece is about finding the quieter moments in nature. You can watch the long-form piece on BBC Americas YouTube.

Client: AMC Networks Content Room
Agency: Saatchi & Saatchi
Director: @shaandiin
Production: Talweg Creative @graysonschaffer @ryanheff7
Line Producer: @og_rylan
DP: @simonasher
Cinematographer/Producer: @leroygrafe
1st AC: Rob Salviotti
Score: Gustav Karlstrom
Sound New Haven: Javier Caso
Sound Tucson: Luke Hunt
HMU: Maricela Saucedo
Locations: Jim Gross
Pursuit Car: @rockymtngande @mrjezak @jmenk @benjamingoertzen
Precision Driver: Chris Tuck
PA: Robert Gastelum-Ruiz
Special Thanks: US Forest Service, Film Tucson

Congratulations to @lucywalkerfilm and her talented crew on turning @mountain_queen_10 ‘s story into a brilliant documentary. It’s been thrilling to watch Lhakpa’s star rise over the last decade as she’s taken control of her life and career. When I met her back in 2015 for the @outsidemagazine story, she was literally hiding behind a deadbolt-locked door and changing up her daily routine to avoid detection by ex-husband. Now she’s famous. This story was also special for me because it’s the only one I’ve had anthologized in the Best American series.💥

Congratulations to @lucywalkerfilm and her talented crew on turning @mountain_queen_10 ‘s story into a brilliant documentary. It’s been thrilling to watch Lhakpa’s star rise over the last decade as she’s taken control of her life and career. When I met her back in 2015 for the @outsidemagazine story, she was literally hiding behind a deadbolt-locked door and changing up her daily routine to avoid detection by ex-husband. Now she’s famous. This story was also special for me because it’s the only one I’ve had anthologized in the Best American series.💥

Congratulations to @lucywalkerfilm and her talented crew on turning @mountain_queen_10 ‘s story into a brilliant documentary. It’s been thrilling to watch Lhakpa’s star rise over the last decade as she’s taken control of her life and career. When I met her back in 2015 for the @outsidemagazine story, she was literally hiding behind a deadbolt-locked door and changing up her daily routine to avoid detection by ex-husband. Now she’s famous. This story was also special for me because it’s the only one I’ve had anthologized in the Best American series.💥

My profile of skier @codytownsend in the February 2024 issue of @gq is out. It’s always thrilling and a little intimidating to ski in the backcountry with guys like Cody and Bjarne because they make it look so easy that it can be challenging to figure out whether I’m in over my head. Ultimately, Bloody Couloir was a lovely warm day in the mountains with a big crew of fun people.

Photos @bjarnesalen
Edited by @alhoyt , who totally fixed the lede
Layout, typography, and this fun instagram arrangement by @michael_houtz

My profile of skier @codytownsend in the February 2024 issue of @gq is out. It’s always thrilling and a little intimidating to ski in the backcountry with guys like Cody and Bjarne because they make it look so easy that it can be challenging to figure out whether I’m in over my head. Ultimately, Bloody Couloir was a lovely warm day in the mountains with a big crew of fun people.

Photos @bjarnesalen
Edited by @alhoyt , who totally fixed the lede
Layout, typography, and this fun instagram arrangement by @michael_houtz

My profile of skier @codytownsend in the February 2024 issue of @gq is out. It’s always thrilling and a little intimidating to ski in the backcountry with guys like Cody and Bjarne because they make it look so easy that it can be challenging to figure out whether I’m in over my head. Ultimately, Bloody Couloir was a lovely warm day in the mountains with a big crew of fun people.

Photos @bjarnesalen
Edited by @alhoyt , who totally fixed the lede
Layout, typography, and this fun instagram arrangement by @michael_houtz

My profile of skier @codytownsend in the February 2024 issue of @gq is out. It’s always thrilling and a little intimidating to ski in the backcountry with guys like Cody and Bjarne because they make it look so easy that it can be challenging to figure out whether I’m in over my head. Ultimately, Bloody Couloir was a lovely warm day in the mountains with a big crew of fun people.

Photos @bjarnesalen
Edited by @alhoyt , who totally fixed the lede
Layout, typography, and this fun instagram arrangement by @michael_houtz

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

Glad to finally have Pecos Hank out in the world. We shot this @yeti film in April 2020, at the height of lockdown, and started filming four days after I shattered my collarbone mountain biking. Along with @leroygrafe , @kahlilhudson , @ryanheff7 , and of course @pecoshank , we racked up something like 7,000 miles across the Great Plains and managed to see some pretty amazing storms. We also ate more than our combined weight in McDonalds and roller-grill hotdogs.

I’m so excited that this @yosemitenps documentary that I directed with @kyledickman83 , @simonreinertdp , @cheynelempe , and @leroygrafe is out in the world.

A couple of years ago @kyledickman83 explained that his brother Garrett, a biologist at Yosemite, was instituting some unconventional methods to save the last remaining sequoias in the national parks and beyond.

The problem is that, with climate change producing hotter fires and taller flames, giant sequoias are no longer immune to fire. Trees that are 2,000 years old and have historically required low-intensity fire to stimulate their cones to release their seeds and propagate are now getting torched just like the rest of the forest. As a result, California, the only place where sequoias grow in the wild, lost more than 20 percent of its sequoias between 2020 and 2021.

Garrett and other managers within NPS can’t solve climate change, but they’ve begun taking proactive steps around prescribed burning and fuel removal and supporting research into a novel infestation of bark beetles that have begun to devastate the drought-stricken trees.

This film has been shown in Congress over the last year by a bipartisan coalition of lawmakers who are attempting to pass legislation that would declare the situation an emergency, allow better coordination between federal agencies, and streamline approval for more aggressive fuel reduction treatments in the highest-risk groves. If you google “Save our Sequoias act,” you can read about it.

Kyle Dickman, former hotshot and author of On the Burning Edge, also wrote a fantastic feature in @outsidemagazine about the sequoias that you can find on Outside’s website.

Note: All drone shots were done in private groves and not in the national parks. Don’t drone in the parks.

Produced: @kyledickman83
Edit: @simonasher
Camera: @leroygrafe , @cheynelempe, @simonreinertdp
Music:
Thank you so much @linneaborealis, @christybrigham , Joe Suarez, @savetheredwoods and the Arrowhead Hotshots for your support and trust.

The second of two spots we did over the winter for the @garmin InReach satellite messenger. We spend enough time out of cell phone service to know how valuable the InReach is for emergencies but also when you’re just going to be late for dinner. Thanks to @asphalt.and.beyond for the performance and Garmin for the trust.

Garmin Creative
@therealmaggiewasserman
Ryan Glendening
@mbowne
Directors @ryanheff7 @graysonschaffer
DP @simonreinertdp
Aerials @leroygrafe