Word: soft
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...down to three: besides me, Fairchild and his army buddy Rich Galli, who met each other in Italy, where they were mountain-warfare instructors. Galli was infantry and Fairchild artillery--as were Lewis and Clark, respectively. Soon we are skirting 10-ft. snowdrifts, now and again postholing into a soft patch up to our thighs. By midday we crest the ridgeline, where we can start to make out the vast wild expanse that stretches away on all sides. To our north are 1.8 million acres of the Clearwater National Forest, to the south are 1.3 million acres of the Selway...
...luck too is holding with the weather, although the snow keeps getting deeper. As we climb to Indian Post Office, the highest point on the trail at 7,033 ft., the drifts are 15 ft. and up. We have covered 13 miles in soft snow, and we barely have enough energy to make dinner. After a meal of chicken and couscous, I sit on a rock outcrop on top of the ridge. There is no light visible in any direction, not even another campfire. For four days we do not see another human being. We are isolated...
...these particular 100 acres this spring, I am unable to find any certain tracks. The forest rings with health: soft, undisturbed duff underfoot, soil of the centuries carpeted with trillium, wild violets, mushrooms, lupine, ancient lichens and mosses--an outrageous diversity that is so rare elsewhere in the West. Like some lost explorer, I make little maps on scraps of paper about what I find, and I wonder what the future will bring. In Backtracking, Long quotes a wildlife biologist on the future of the bear in Montana: "Eighty years ago, there were grizzlies leaving their tracks on the beaches...
...says his rigorous training makes it "impossible for me to present a dish that is anything less than perfect." The surf crashing on the rocky coast of his native Brittany inspired his signature dish, dressed spider crab served in its shell with a soufflé of "sea foam." "The soft element melts in the mouth, while the crunchy one releases its flavor beneath the teeth," he says, likening the feel to Häagen-Dazs, "the first to make ice cream with little crunchy bits in it." Klein, whose career has been the most unconventional of this year's chefs...
Walter Russell Mead is sitting in his office at the Council on Foreign Relations in midtown Manhattan on a soft June afternoon, at work on a book that was born last September. He published an acclaimed history of U.S. foreign policy last year and was working on a study about building a global middle class. But he has put that aside. Piled around him now are the Koran, a Bible, books on technology and a stack of Left Behind books. When Mead predicts that our century will be remembered as the Age of Apocalypse, he does not mean to suggest...