I'm a nice fella, and witty. Not everyone gets me, but the ones that do are usually rolling around.

I have been told numerous times that I can be intimidating. Those that know me find this to be both laughable and understandable. I can admit to agreeing with them.

I simply love the outdoors. Many of my vacations are spent backpacking across mountains, with the odd trip to Europe in lieu. I'm first generation Irish with dual citizenship and an E.U. passport.

I've worked as a cook, chef, and butcher in another lifetime; now I help people who are trying to be healthy, and love it. Vitamins and bodycare is my gig. I get most places on my bicycle, and I don't care what the weather is like. I have a deep respect for trees.

Two years ago I decided to walk from Georgia to Maine. Then I went and did it. It took 165 days.

I reccomend it strongly. If you've got six months, anyone can do it.

I work for a great company that encourages us to do that kind of thing. I love what we do and the people I work with. We are encouraged to lead a healthy lifestyle, and to be a force of good in our communities and wherever we do business.

Looking serious when I'm foolin'.

Rakish demeanor.

I lack a superfluous third nipple.

Mainly historical fiction and non-fiction, stuff about the outdoors, high adventure, or techno-thrillers. Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series.

Bird watching.

Coconut oil. Maca. Turmeric. Green drinks.

Boots of Spanish leather.

Never is a long time. And terribly absolute.

The inexorable passage of time. The undeniable effects of wind and water. Evolution. The Sun.

And really, very little of the rest of the shite everyone else mentions.

My next leave from work: Pacific Crest Trail, 2015

On my new acupressure mat, as I drift off to sleep. It is pretty cool, once you get past the hurty part.

Blisters on top of blisters. The Flu. Back spasams. A broken toe. Shin splints and a sprained ankle. Food poisioning. A thousand miles of undiagnosed Lyme disease. Another sprained ankle and more spasams. Innumerable bug bites, scratches and bruises. Bloody nipples. Altitude sickness. Full-body chafing. Loss of a fifth of my body weight, and a badly bruised coccyx .

I bore these, and a thirty-five pound pack, through record rainfall, heat, the remenants of a tropical storm, and the full brunt of Hurricane Irene.

That part where I said anyone could do a through-hike? I lied.

You need to be at least a bit of a badass.

I will gladly endure it all again in the future. Except the shin splints. They suck.

If you would like to lay beneath a tree and listen to the birds with me.