Before we start, let’s talk Yosemite
I usually write these newsletters about two weeks before they land in your inbox. It gives me time to research the hikes, double check my writing, change things I don’t like, and make sure I’m giving you something useful each month.
This September I planned it to be a very personal one. A year ago, I lost my corporate job of 18 years. Within days, I escaped to the Eastern Sierra and went hiking. This month’s five hikes retrace that trip, and the story of how one of the worst weeks of my professional life ultimately helped lead me here.
Then, on August 28, news broke about Yosemite: a private developer is pursuing a deal that could exchange land inside Yosemite National Park to create a much shorter private access road from an 83 acre property outside the park.
I’m leaving the newsletter I originally wrote below. You’ll still get the story behind the first year of my ‘new’ life, the five Eastern Sierra stops that helped me through it along with a road trip you can recreate yourself this September.
But I’ve added something else at the end: what is actually happening in Yosemite, how we got here, and what all of us can actually do about it. Showing you beautiful public lands is only half of my job; we also need to understand how to protect them.
As always thank you for being here and please make sure your subscribed to help support this platform!
****Start of originally planned monthly blog****
Exactly one year ago, I got laid off.
After more than 18 years at The Clorox Company, a career that had taken me from chemical engineer to R&D to sales and marketing and much more, the rug got pulled out from underneath me.
And I wish I could tell you I saw it coming…but I didn’t. I was 100% blindsided.
For nearly two decades, Clorox had been a constant in my adult life. I joined immediately after I graduated from University of Illinois. I grew up there professionally. I met mentors who changed my career, worked with people who became friends, earned my MBA from Berkeley Haas while working there, and built a life around the assumption that Monday morning would keep looking roughly like Monday morning.
One Tuesday, it didn’t.
There’s a strange thing that happens when you lose a job after that long. You don’t just lose the paycheck, you lose the routine. The meetings on your calendar disappear. The people you talked to every day suddenly aren’t part of your day. Your title vanishes. And whether you realized it or not, some portion of the answer to Who am I? had become woven into the name of the company on your email address.
When someone from IT turns off the email address, you’re left figuring out the rest. And maybe you feel like your kids, parents, wife…hell the whole world, is watching.
So I went hiking.
I didn’t have some brilliant reinvention plan. I wasn’t standing triumphantly on a summit declaring that I was finally going to chase my dreams. Far from it: I was shocked, mad, furious, betrayed.
But I do know that one of the few places where my brain (and fumes) seemed to settle was on a trail. So right after getting laid off, I pointed myself toward California’s Eastern Sierra. LinkedIn updates could wait.
I needed some space, some solitude, hidden gems that I never seen before…and, apparently, I needed to walk at pretty high elevation to search for a really old tree.
What I didn’t know then was that this trip would become a dividing line in my life. On one side of it, there was the version of me before, who spent almost 18 years building a corporate career.
And there was the version of me who came home and wondered: What if I actually tried this?
A phone call, one year later
A few weeks ago, one of my former mentors, Bob Richardson, called me. He had no ask or agenda. He just wanted to catch up and see how I was doing.
That’s Bob. He’s one of those people who understood that mentorship isn’t a scheduled quarterly conversation. It’s continuing to care about somebody’s success even when there’s nothing in it for you.
We talked about this ‘new’ life I’ve built with the hiking videos, my California map, my upcoming book, and this newsletter. The fact that my job now involves hiking around and trying to help other people do the same.
After we hung up, Bob did something that hit me hard…like really really hard: he paid to subscribe to this newsletter.
Bob lives in Texas.
I don’t think my map of hundreds of California hiking spots is going to be particularly useful on his commute. Which is why it meant so much to me. And it wasn’t the money, it was someone who had invested in me when I worked inside those four corporate walls finding a way to say: I’m still investing in you.
I’ve thought about that a lot over these past few weeks. One of the greatest privileges of this past year is realizing I get to do something similar now:
I get to help someone attempt their first real hike. I get to tell someone about a trail they didn’t know existed. I get to make the outdoors feel less intimidating.
I get to advocate for public access and responsible recreation. I have to thread the needle between both protecting them and making it possible for more people to experience them.
And I get to share discoveries that might give somebody else the kind of day outside that I desperately needed a year ago. That’s a pretty incredible job, and focus, to have.
There are good people outside the walls, too
That first Eastern Sierra trip gave me another reminder I needed. I finally met back up with my friend behind Cal.Euphoria, who I met via Instagram. Social media can be strange: you can follow someone’s adventures, trade messages, share trail ideas and feel like you know them long before you actually spend meaningful time together.
Fast forward and you’re standing together beneath the Sierra knocking bucket list hikes off the list.
Yet this wasn’t about Instagram; it was realizing how many interesting, kind and passionate people existed beyond the world I’d spent nearly two decades inside.
An aha for me: my world doesn’t need to become smaller after losing my job, it can rather become bigger. A year ago, I just couldn’t see that yet.
So for this month’s five hikes, I’m going back to that trip. These are the exact five places attached to the moment when one chapter of my life abruptly ended and another one began.
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1. Wild Willy’s Hot Spring
Kicking off this trip is a hike in which you do almost no hiking whatsoever.
Wild Willy’s sits out in Long Valley, with the Eastern Sierra rising in the distance. After a career-altering week, sitting in naturally hot water staring at mountains is a pretty good form of therapy.
There’s a boardwalk leading across the open landscape toward the pools. Go early or on a weekday if you can. This isn’t exactly a secret anymore, and BLM has previously reported hundreds of vehicles accessing the area on busy days.
Treat the springs respectfully. Pack everything out, stay on established access routes and remember that public access only survives when we take care of public places.
My September take: Make this a sunrise or early-morning stop, not the centerpiece of your hiking day. Bring a thermometer to test the temperature before you go in; I found the first pools in the 110-112 range, while downstream it was 99-102.
Trail Details: <1 mile round trip, easy, very little elevation. AllTrails link
2. Methuselah Trail
This might have been the most unique hike of the trip. The Methuselah Trail is a roughly 4.5-mile loop through the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest in the White Mountains. You get to walk amongst some of the oldest living trees on Earth.
Some Great Basin bristlecone pines have survived for roughly 5,000 years. They grow in an environment that seems almost hostile to the idea of growing anything at all: high elevation, poor, alkaline soil, bitter cold, drought and wind.
Yet they endure. The famous Methuselah tree itself isn’t identified for visitors, but naturally, I went looking for it. You start examining every ancient, twisted tree wondering, Is that it?
Probably not. That one? Who knows? I eventually realized that was sort of the point. You’re walking through a forest where individual trees were prior to any modern human history.
I had just lost a job I’d held for almost 18 years…but standing among trees that measure their lives in millennia offered some perspective: eighteen years can be incredibly important, but it can also be just one chapter.
My September take: Don’t race this trail. Look closely at the trees. Let this one be a walk instead of a workout.
Trail Details: 4 miles, moderate (at high elevation), 800 ft of elevation. AllTrails link
3. Big Pine Lakes
And then there’s the showstopper.
The North Fork Big Pine Creek trail climbs into one of the most beautiful alpine landscapes in California. First, Second, Third Lakes, Temple Crag towering overhead, and water that looks photoshopped.
This is a really hard hike, though. And my recommendation for most day hikers is also slightly controversial: Skip Lakes 6 and 7. I don’t think the additional effort gives you enough return compared with spending more time around the earlier lakes.
And there’s something else I’d look for: between Lakes 1 and 2, there’s a bonus waterfall that’s very easy to overlook when your brain is completely occupied by the turquoise water and Temple Crag.
My September take: Make this your big objective. Start early, carry plenty of water, prepare for significant mileage and elevation, and give yourself enough time that you aren’t racing daylight on the return.
Trail Details: 15 miles+ depending on how many lakes you visit, hard (at high elevation), 4000 ft of elevation. AllTrails link
4. Lundy Canyon
For this trip, I only wanted to explore the lower portion of Lundy Canyon and the first waterfall. My legs said no (they were burned out from hike #3). But my I decided to push through…and loved every minute of it.
Lundy Canyon has scenery that forces you to keep stopping for reasons that have nothing to do with being tired.
My September take: This is the counterweight to Big Pine Lakes. Use it when you want a beautiful Eastern Sierra outing without committing most of your day. Try to time the foliage right and you will never forget this one.
Trail Details: 2 miles out and back, easy with a small bit of offroading to get to the trailhead , 250 ft of elevation. AllTrails link (follow to first main waterfall and turn around)
5. Buckeye Hot Springs
And finally, another soak. Buckeye Hot Springs near Bridgeport feels completely different from Wild Willy’s. Instead of soaking in the openness of Long Valley, Buckeye gives you a strange Eastern Sierra combination of creek, offroading, mountains and naturally heated water.
After days of hiking, there’s something deeply satisfying about lowering tired legs into warm water and realizing that tomorrow’s agenda doesn’t contain a conference call, a PowerPoint, or a quarterly business review.
Just another trail.
Trail Details: Very short trail; head down the hill behind the parking lot and follow down to river; hotsprings will be on left (near side of river). Google maps link.
One year later
I want to be careful about romanticizing getting laid off. It freaking sucked. I didn’t know if everything was going to work out, and I’m still not sure what I am doing is financially sustainable.
I didn’t walk out of Clorox thinking, Finally, the universe has given me permission to become a hiking creator.
I really was scared. I have a family. The sensible path would have been polishing the résumé and finding another version of what I’d already been doing.
Instead, I, and more importantly, my wife, gave me permission to see what might happen if I bet on something I’d been building on the side.
One year later, I’m writing this to you. And I don’t regret those 18 years, in fact, quite the opposite...I’m grateful for them.
But I’m also grateful somebody forced the door closed, because I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to close it myself.
And on the other side were people I hadn’t met yet, there were mountains I hadn’t climbed, there was a community I hadn’t built.
There was Bob, still checking in. There was a friend waiting somewhere in the Eastern Sierra to knock out a bucket list hike with me. And there were hundreds of thousands of people on the other side of a phone who wanted to learn about hiking from a former chemical engineer wandering around California.
So this September, one year after the worst professional phone call of my life, these are my five hikes. They are part of the trip that helped me figure out that when you have absolutely no idea where you’re going next, you just start walking.
Sorry if this one had too much writing, but I felt it important to provide the context behind the selections, and share a little ‘real’ me. If you read all the way down here, here’s one last gift: a google maps link to all five spots (starting from the Bay Area, make sure to research whether or not Tioga Pass is open): Google Map link
UPDATE: And now we need to talk Yosemite.
If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve probably already seen me talking about this. I’ve also seen a lot of comments and posts that make it clear there is some confusion about what’s going on. So what is actually happening, and what is being proposed?
A private developer, Kingsbarn Realty Capital, a Nevada based real estate investment firm, controls approximately 83 acres just outside Yosemite National Park’s western boundary, and historically known as Hazel Green Ranch.
Kingsbarn wants a dramatically shorter road connecting the property through Yosemite to Highway 120. Right now, the property is accessed by an old, winding road through U.S. Forest Service land that begins more than 10 miles from a park entrance. Kingsbarn’s attorney, Lanny Davis, has described the proposed new route as an access road “under a half mile” in one statement and “under a mile” in another.
To make that possible, federal officials have been considering either an exchange involving a narrow strip of Yosemite National Park land or an easement across park property. Under the exchange being discussed, Kingsbarn would provide the federal government with other property of approximately equal value, either within Yosemite or within another national park in California.
This fight is more than 20 years old.
Here’s the brief history of this property, which started long before most of us heard about it.
1998: Developer Lewis Geyser purchased Hazel Green Ranch through an LLC. Plans eventually called for roughly 300 lodging units, including cottages and tent cabins, and the owner pursued direct road access through Yosemite.
2007: Hazel Green Ranch sued the federal government, asserting rights to use historic routes through what is now Yosemite National Park.
2010: A federal district court dismissed the remaining claims.
2012: The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed the dismissal.
Importantly, the property was not landlocked. It already had access through surrounding Forest Service land, even if that route was longer and less convenient. For years, the issue appeared settled.
February 2024: An LLC controlled by Kingsbarn Realty Capital purchased the undeveloped 83 acre property for a reported $4 million. Kingsbarn contacted Interior about reopening the access issue almost immediately.
2025-2026: Federal officials began actively exploring whether a land exchange or easement could provide the desired access through Yosemite. NOTUS (news of the United States) first reported those discussions on August 28, 2026.
That’s where we are today. There is currently no formal public review process open for this proposal, and the Department of the Interior says no final decision has been made.
Which is why this is so important right now.
“But don’t land exchanges happen all the time?”
Yes, and federal land exchanges aren’t inherently bad. Sometimes they consolidate fragmented public lands, protect habitat, improve public access or bring environmentally valuable private property into public ownership.
That’s fundamentally different from what’s being asked here. This proposal starts with a private property owner seeking a more convenient route across land already protected as Yosemite National Park. The public isn’t asking for this road, and Yosemite doesn’t need this road to improve general public access. Its primary purpose would be providing dramatically shorter access to privately owned property that could subsequently be developed.
That’s the line I think we should never cross.
Yosemite isn’t a bank account.
You can’t convince me that giving up an interest in one piece of Yosemite is automatically fine because another piece of land with the same appraised value gets deposited somewhere else. And it raises a bigger question: what precedent does that create for the next developer, or the next national park?
So what can we do?
There isn’t a formal public review open for this proposal yet. That means I don’t want to send you to some imaginary comment portal just so we can feel like we did something. But it also doesn’t mean we sit around and wait. Here’s what I think are actions we can take right now; if you think of others feel free to add them in the comments.
Pay attention: this story is moving quickly, and I’ll continue following it and share important details.
Talk about it: share credible reporting and help keep Yosemite top of mind.
Tell your representatives where you stand: You can contact your members of Congress and tell them you oppose transferring, exchanging or granting an interest in Yosemite National Park land primarily to facilitate private development.
If Interior begins a formal environmental review or opens an opportunity for public comment: show up, loud, and for Yosemite.
If you’re in California, three relevant offices are:
Sen. Alex Padilla
padilla.senate.gov/contact
Washington office: (202) 224-3553
Sen. Adam Schiff
schiff.senate.gov/contact
Washington office: (202) 224-3841
Rep. Tom McClintock
California’s 5th Congressional District includes Yosemite National Park, and McClintock serves on the House Natural Resources Committee.
mcclintock.house.gov/contact
Washington office: (202) 225-2511
So, what might you say? Identify who you are and that you oppose transferring, exchanging or granting an interest in Yosemite National Park land to facilitate private development. Ask the representative to publicly state their position and use whatever legislative or oversight authority they have available.
Don’t. Trade. Yosemite.
A year ago, I went into the Sierra because I needed these places. Ultimately, those public lands gave me something I didn’t know I was looking for: a direction for what came next.
The five places I just shared with you exist because generations of people made choices about what land should remain accessible, what should be protected, and what we’re willing to pass down to the people who come after us.
Now some of those choices are ours. But only if we choose to advocate for them, because public lands can’t speak for themselves.
And I promise you, together we can. When there’s something specific we can do to help Yosemite, I’ll make damn sure you know about it.
And as always, I hope to see you on the trails.
Thank you so much for sharing the honest emotion behind your story, Dan. I'm so proud of what you're trying right now, and just like any hike, we're all taking our journey one step at a time. You always have my support no matter where your path leads.
We are dealing with people that bull dozed the East Wing and turned Jackie Kennedy's beautiful rose garden into a Margaritaville patio. It makes me sad especially for Yosemite and all our national parks. 🏞️