I'm writing today's newsletter from the Uinta Mountains. I'm up here with Dodger—my golden retriever—and we're doing our best to stay out of trouble. I've spent a good chunk of my life up here. Earlier, I rode my Honda Trail 125 past the spot where I crashed Dad's four-wheeler. I didn't stay out of trouble that day.

No, that day, I broke my arm.

I've been thinking about the kid version of myself. Do you ever do that? I like that kid. I find myself rooting for him even though I know how his story goes. He's a better person than I am, albeit more naive.

He'd freak out if he knew we ended up owning a Honda Trail 125. He'd get a kick out of Dodger, but he wouldn't be able to wrap his mind around the fact that he played a role in creating four children. I know he’d have a lot of questions about that process.

What if we thought back to who we were as a kid more often? That kid with all of their anxiety, flaws, and innocence. What if we gave ourselves the same grace and latitude we give that kid? You know that kid is rooting for you with unwavering enthusiasm.

What could be more motivating than that?

Clint and Dodger walking in the mountains
We belong in these hills.
Dodger laying on grass
If I can't take my hound to heaven...
Dodger chasing after Clint on his bike.
Afternoon ride.
Clint typing on his laptop in the mountains.
The office.
Clint riding his bike on a trail in the mountains.
Toxic masculinity.