Trespassing tire tracks. Binoculars slightly out of place. Gun gone missing. Multiple clues confirming Mike Rust’s worst fears — someone had violated his home, a sanctuary nestled on 80 acres of wild land deep in south central Colorado’s remote San Luis Valley. Suddenly, two shadows buzz along the horizon. One man sets off alone in hot pursuit. It is the last thing he will do?? That was March 31, 2009, the last time anyone heard from this beloved 56-year-old hall-of-fame mountain biker. Evidence found, including a blood-stained gun butt and vest, suggests that Rust caught the perpetrators, a violent confrontation […]
by Chris Kassar on Jan 17, 2014Thunder cracks in the distance. Bolts of lightning illuminate the Colorado sky in flashes of pink. A warm breeze touches my skin, and the remnants of last night’s storm roll through our creek-side camp. It’s 2:32 a.m. Shadows scurry back and forth — gathering gear, disassembling tents, making tiny packets of oatmeal, downing instant coffee, fiddling with camera equipment and making last-minute adjustments to backpacks. Silence dominates the darkness, but excitement and nerves percolate palpably below the surface. Thirty minutes later, we gather and begin snaking through the black forest as a unit, guided only by tiny lights, intuition and […]
by Chris Kassar on Jul 18, 2013