Emma Walker: International Snow Science Geek

Despite that I’ve spent most of the last two decades enrolled as a student in one way or another, I’d be hard-pressed to describe myself as an academic. Perhaps it’s that my most-of-a-master’s is in camping, a degree most would probably consider too casual to be called scholarly, or maybe it’s that I dread the socializing: the answering of questions I’m unsure about; the politics of academia.

Whatever the reason, I feel fairly uncomfortable with jargon like “synergy” and “network,” a point on which Alaska and I see eye-to-eye. Besides occasional department open houses and parties for retiring faculty members, my presence is required at few university-related events, which suits me just fine.

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Return to the North: My Alaskan Odyssey, Part 3.

A slamming car door jolts me from sleep. Light is flooding in the windows, despite my meticulous arrangement of towels and sweatshirts in an effort to keep it out. A few hours ago, I could hardly keep my eyes open; now I can hardly wait to get on the road.

“Good morning,” a groggy Bix greets me. “Aren’t you glad I arranged our stay at the luxurious Hotel Subaru for our anniversary?”

Continue reading “Return to the North: My Alaskan Odyssey, Part 3.”

No rest for the wicked: How my morning run turned into a discourse on feminism

This morning I had a very positive check-in with my thesis advisor and, feeling uncharacteristically favorable about the state of my manuscript, decided to reward myself with a run on my favorite trail before the temperature soared from “hot” to the forecasted “blistering.” (By reward, of course, I really mean stave off self-loathing, but I suppose that’s for another post.)

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Musings on mentorship, middle school, and other things I’m not qualified to discuss

Immediately after my college graduation, I embarked on a three-week backpacking trip in Montana’s Beartooth-Absaroka Wilderness with the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS, as it’s more commonly known in outdoorsy circles). I’ve written a little previously about the long-reaching effects this experience had on me. Still, I don’t think I realized the depth of its impact on my life until another recent backpacking experience, but I’ll get to that.

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The art of letting go, and other things I haven’t really mastered

My summer is not going as planned.

Okay, wait; let me start over: My summer is off to a much better start than last summer, when my personal life was a wreck and my dog died and I was unemployed and moved back in with my parents. Like an emotionally inept phoenix from the proverbial ashes, I had nowhere to go but up. Literally—I spent the vast majority of my time traipsing around the Rockies in pursuit of lofty summits and inner peace, both of which I am still looking for.

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