Fort Bragg: A Moment to Say Thanks

After selling our Ashland, Oregon home two months ago, Sue and I vowed to remain focused on the moment and make the most of our freedom.

We came to Fort Bragg, California, planning to stay a few days. The weather, charming town, spectacular trails, combined with fun times with old and new friends, have stretched our stay to three weeks.

Four state parks, practically within shouting distance of our camp at Pomo Campground, offer trails that took us to coastline scenes that exploded in beauty and to redwood giants that displayed their rugged beauty.

And my friend Bob, whom I met 10 years ago through an Ashland area bicycling club, invited me to join his biking group here. (Fort Bragg is his primary home.) Friendly members of the Seniors on Bikes (SOBs) welcomed me on several rides on the bike path along the coast to MacKerricher State Park.

We felt part of the community during our stay, taking part on the Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot, a fund-raiser for the local food bank and high school track and field team.

Now we say so long to Fort Bragg. Thanks for the memorable times. And for so many great moments.

Age, Race, and Altitude on a High Sierra Trail

Benje Williams and his dad on their High Sierra journey. Photo: Backpacker, Outside+

Writing for Backpacker, Benje Williams chronicles a Sierra Nevada adventure, describing how he and his dad battled high-altitude fatigue and haunting memories of his parents’ miserable trek decades before. The son poses questions: Why don’t more blacks take up backpacking? Is fear of discrimination holding them back? Is age a barrier for people considering a challenging trek?

During our 10 distance treks, most in Europe, Sue and I have seen very few black hikers. It has been a subject we have discussed with hopes that all are welcomed on the trails. For Benje Williams and his 65-year-old dad, racism surfaces on their adventure, even finding its way through silence.

As for age being a blockade, we were in our 60s when we tackled the John Muir Trail, also in California’s Sierra Nevada. I was among three in our group who were 69 and I may have been out of breath more than the “youngsters” we met on our 30-day experience, but I made it to Mount Whitney’s peak and finished all 246 miles, albeit aided by mules who carried most of our group’s gear.

Although it is not unusual to walk with people in their 60s–or occasionally even older–in Europe, there were few senior citizens in the High Sierra when we were there. But at every place we have trekked, age has never prevented bonding around the campfire, at trail stops, or during shared meals. However, language has affected our sense of camaraderie several times.

Earlier in 2025, Sue and I walked nearly 400 miles on Italy’s Via Francigena and England’s Cotswold Way. Both were hard, but being 73 was not an overriding factor for me and Sue’s 68 years did not keep her from conquering steep climbs with gusto.

I hope Benje and his dad will continue to make adventure a part of their lives. Click on the link above to read Benje’s article.