Beyond the Anchor

There is something about ribs on the grill that makes me actually forgive summer for its heat. Maybe it’s the rich ribbon of woodsmoke drifting through the campground before dinner. Maybe it’s the barbecue sauce that inevitably ends up on knuckles, cheeks, and picnic table benches.

Almost a year ago, I sat down at my keyboard. Never once in that moment did I sit down with the intention of writing a book. I was just writing to write.

Follow Highway 20 into Washington’s North Cascades, where family memories, hidden roots, small-town history, and the turquoise waters of Diablo Lake come together along one unforgettable road.

People walking their dogs along a paved road through a wooded campground, surrounded by tall evergreen trees.

Let me paint you a picture of my mom, since you already have one of my dad. Where he was high-octane and theatrical, filling every room until there was no air left in it, she was crafty, frugal, gentle, and possessed of a patience I still don't fully understand.

Cape Disappointment earned its name from treacherous waters and hidden sandbars, but for my family it became a place of campfires, history, and memories that found their way into The Unbreakable Anchor.

Every family has one. The person who walks into a room and becomes the room. The one whose name alone, when dropped into a sentence, makes everyone lean in a little closer, because whatever comes next is going to be a story.

Most people have a general picture of military deployment. Phone calls with bad connections. Care packages. Video chats that freeze at the worst moment. They know it's hard. What most people don't know is that there is a corner of the military where none of that exists.

There is a version of RV life that exists on the internet, and then there is the version that actually happens to you.

A prenatal diagnosis can feel like a verdict before the first breath is even taken. When doctors start handing you pamphlets focused on grim statistics, they are often sketching out a limited version of your child’s future. But what if they’re wrong?

Some places stay with you long after you leave them. Lake Wenatchee is one of those places for me. Nestled in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State, it’s where towering pines meet clear blue water and the world seems to quiet down for a while. Over the years, trips to Lake Wenatchee became more than just camping weekends; they became chapters in our family story.