Twenty-two years of May 29ths, and the throughline is surprisingly consistent: Bill is either moving fast, tinkering with something, or stumbling onto a moment he didn't expect.
It started simply enough. Back in 2003, there was just a quick update pointing to a new site, a single sentence that was basically a forwarding address for life. A year later, things got more interesting with the Perma Road Race, standing high in the mountains waiting for cyclists to snake up through the rain, catching that electricity you only get from watching people suffer beautifully in the hills.
By 2007, a photograph had found its way onto someone else's corner of the internet, and the Web Lodge feature was a quiet, proud moment. Then 2008 brought a fish taco, a rainy Blackfoot River ride, and an honest reckoning with endurance, that broken man with hope figuring out that fitness doesn't wait around for you.
2012 went somewhere else entirely, a speculative fiction detour set in 2112 where Carrie and the narrator are fleeing something through a diner, spotting a telephone booth like a crack in the simulation. Unexpected, but honestly, not entirely out of character.
Then Copper City in 2020, brief and vivid, bullets and COVIDteers and the backside trails offering peace if you knew where to look. Two 2023 entries arrived close together: a Trek Fuel with a personality on the Pattee Creek trails, and a sobering walk at Fort Stevens among garbage and stranded whales.
And 2025, a WeBoost antenna on a windy Montana roof and a tiny carved figure hiding behind the oregano, which turned out to matter more than five bars of signal ever could.
May 29th keeps showing up with something to say. Turns out, so does Bill.