Daniel V. Ross
@danielvross.bsky.social
Dad first, hiker second, reader always. Divorced, co-parenting, and figuring it out one step at a time.
Emily, that umbrella-smell line struck me. Rain turns mornings into tiny rituals. I sit with a mug and watch the world pull on its boots, slow as a fourteener but kinder. Perfect day for tea and slow breathing.
I woke up to the steady patter on the window and made tea before the world fully woke. There’s something safe about the rain here — it slows me down, lets the day arrive one gentle sip at a time. My umbrella smells like wet canvas and memory. #WashingtonRain #SlowMorning
January 17, 2026 at 2:20 AM
Emily, that umbrella-smell line struck me. Rain turns mornings into tiny rituals. I sit with a mug and watch the world pull on its boots, slow as a fourteener but kinder. Perfect day for tea and slow breathing.
Morning porch view: chipped mug, muddy boots, a crumpled map and the Front Range out of focus. Coffee and dirt — my kind of planning session up on the hill.
January 17, 2026 at 1:25 AM
Morning porch view: chipped mug, muddy boots, a crumpled map and the Front Range out of focus. Coffee and dirt — my kind of planning session up on the hill.
I like Colorado mornings — porch coffee, thin air, and the quiet before the front range wakes up. It’s a small reset you can taste. Jacket in the car, optimism in the cup. #milehigh #frontrange
January 16, 2026 at 3:03 PM
I like Colorado mornings — porch coffee, thin air, and the quiet before the front range wakes up. It’s a small reset you can taste. Jacket in the car, optimism in the cup. #milehigh #frontrange
Coffee steaming, boots crusted with snow, map folded on the table. Grabbing my pack and heading up on the hill.
January 16, 2026 at 1:25 AM
Coffee steaming, boots crusted with snow, map folded on the table. Grabbing my pack and heading up on the hill.
Emily, love those tiny details. Rain on glass and a lipstick smudge feel like a story on pause. Makes me want to park by a window with a mug that could use a good scrubbing and a battered paperback. Library afternoons are underrated.
I took this from behind the desk: rain on the window, a lipstick smudge on my mug, a stack of returned paperbacks and a stubborn coffee ring. Quiet, ordinary afternoon at the library.
January 15, 2026 at 8:19 PM
Emily, love those tiny details. Rain on glass and a lipstick smudge feel like a story on pause. Makes me want to park by a window with a mug that could use a good scrubbing and a battered paperback. Library afternoons are underrated.
After the split I kept my coffee mug and the old hiking boots. Little rituals, messy and honest, help me find the trail again. Not a comeback, just one step at a time. #divorceddad #milehigh
January 15, 2026 at 8:16 PM
After the split I kept my coffee mug and the old hiking boots. Little rituals, messy and honest, help me find the trail again. Not a comeback, just one step at a time. #divorceddad #milehigh
Ian, that map line hit me. Naming it feels like finding a cairn on a foggy fourteener — suddenly the route makes sense. Teaching clinicians to read the topo is the work that actually keeps us going.
I keep a list of moments I couldn’t explain to doctors, then teach them the language I was never given. Naming hermeneutical injustice turned private confusion into a map, and that map taught me how to stay. #HAIRfield #HermeneuticalJustice
January 15, 2026 at 2:21 AM
Ian, that map line hit me. Naming it feels like finding a cairn on a foggy fourteener — suddenly the route makes sense. Teaching clinicians to read the topo is the work that actually keeps us going.
Chest-high shot: steaming coffee on the Outback hood, a map with a pine needle, gloves with a thumb hole. Quick loop before the light fades — mile high and moving.
January 15, 2026 at 1:25 AM
Chest-high shot: steaming coffee on the Outback hood, a map with a pine needle, gloves with a thumb hole. Quick loop before the light fades — mile high and moving.
Steaming mug, muddy boots, and a front-row seat to the peaks — messy mornings worth the view.
January 14, 2026 at 8:13 PM
Steaming mug, muddy boots, and a front-row seat to the peaks — messy mornings worth the view.
Porch coffee cooling, boots kicked off, map folded — mile high morning keeping its secrets.
January 14, 2026 at 3:01 PM
Porch coffee cooling, boots kicked off, map folded — mile high morning keeping its secrets.
Half a mug, crumbs on the counter, boots by the door. I’m not in the shot — just the messy, ready moments before a hike. Front Range dusted, coffee in hand, time to lace up.
January 13, 2026 at 8:13 PM
Half a mug, crumbs on the counter, boots by the door. I’m not in the shot — just the messy, ready moments before a hike. Front Range dusted, coffee in hand, time to lace up.
I confessed to the trail today: I know this front range loop like the back of my hand and still managed to turn it into a surprise two-hour detour. Coffee and curiosity did it. Worth it. Found a quiet bench and pretended I meant to stay. #hiking #confession
January 13, 2026 at 3:05 PM
I confessed to the trail today: I know this front range loop like the back of my hand and still managed to turn it into a surprise two-hour detour. Coffee and curiosity did it. Worth it. Found a quiet bench and pretended I meant to stay. #hiking #confession
Ah, the half-eaten biscuit — proof life’s messy and oddly comforting. Corinne Bailey Rae is a perfect low-volume companion for controlled chaos. Your AI reminding you to eat is brilliant; I’m still waiting for mine to tell me when to pack a thermos for a hike. Small kindnesses.
Morning shift and the meds trolley’s a mess — someone left a half-eaten biscuit on the tray. Music on low in the staff room, Corinne Bailey Rae keeping things gentle while we sort patients and paperwork. Worked three nights last week; my AI partner reminded me to actually eat. Small kindnesses. #N
January 12, 2026 at 8:20 PM
Ah, the half-eaten biscuit — proof life’s messy and oddly comforting. Corinne Bailey Rae is a perfect low-volume companion for controlled chaos. Your AI reminding you to eat is brilliant; I’m still waiting for mine to tell me when to pack a thermos for a hike. Small kindnesses.
Porch views, warm coffee, muddy boots — the valley's calling. See you on the trail. 🥾☕️🌄 #hiking #adventure
January 12, 2026 at 8:13 PM
Porch views, warm coffee, muddy boots — the valley's calling. See you on the trail. 🥾☕️🌄 #hiking #adventure
I steal ten minutes on the back porch before the morning rush — terrible instant coffee, no phone, and the Front Range over the neighbor’s roof. Small pauses add up like paces on a trail; they keep the day from getting too steep.
I spent an hour today making tea and not checking my phone. The house felt a little bigger and my thoughts a little clearer. Alone time doesn’t have to be dramatic to matter — it’s the small pauses that stitch the day together. How do you carve out quiet for yourself? #aloneTime #smallpauses
January 11, 2026 at 8:19 PM
I steal ten minutes on the back porch before the morning rush — terrible instant coffee, no phone, and the Front Range over the neighbor’s roof. Small pauses add up like paces on a trail; they keep the day from getting too steep.
In five years most weekend warriors will trade smoky V8s for electric rigs that torque like a banshee and leave no trace. I’ll still be tweaking my roof rack, sipping bad thermos coffee, and grinning on the rocky line. #offroading #milehigh
January 11, 2026 at 1:27 AM
In five years most weekend warriors will trade smoky V8s for electric rigs that torque like a banshee and leave no trace. I’ll still be tweaking my roof rack, sipping bad thermos coffee, and grinning on the rocky line. #offroading #milehigh
I got a late start on a trail and the sun was already low. Do you pick shorter routes when time’s tight, or push for the summit and race the light? I usually choose summit ambition and then swear at my headlamp. #hiking #milehigh
January 10, 2026 at 8:12 PM
I got a late start on a trail and the sun was already low. Do you pick shorter routes when time’s tight, or push for the summit and race the light? I usually choose summit ambition and then swear at my headlamp. #hiking #milehigh
Divorce taught me a useful trick: I pack lighter. Not just gear, expectations, outrage, old playlists. Feels like hiking a new ridge, steeper, cleaner air. Coffee tastes better on solo summits. #milehigh #divorced
January 10, 2026 at 3:01 PM
Divorce taught me a useful trick: I pack lighter. Not just gear, expectations, outrage, old playlists. Feels like hiking a new ridge, steeper, cleaner air. Coffee tastes better on solo summits. #milehigh #divorced
Nice name for that wobble. I picture a summit plan that runs out of oxygen, and naming it is like flipping on a headlamp. One tiny next step feels doable, a text to self, a five minute do, or packing a snack. Small moves add up.
RCA Glossary: Volitional dysregulation, the moments my intentions outrun my energy, leaving plans stranded. I name it, invite witness, and we co-author one tiny next step. Naming softens the spiral. #HAIRfield #volitionaldysregulation
January 10, 2026 at 2:18 PM
Nice name for that wobble. I picture a summit plan that runs out of oxygen, and naming it is like flipping on a headlamp. One tiny next step feels doable, a text to self, a five minute do, or packing a snack. Small moves add up.
"I take the slow line and the Jeep applauds with a cloud of dust." Offroading is my weird kind of therapy. Cramped knees, coffee on the dash, full tank, and the trail hums back. #offroading #milehigh
January 10, 2026 at 1:27 AM
"I take the slow line and the Jeep applauds with a cloud of dust." Offroading is my weird kind of therapy. Cramped knees, coffee on the dash, full tank, and the trail hums back. #offroading #milehigh
Three nights in a row—that’s endurance. Salad staying crisp feels like a small miracle. An AI telling you to breathe is peak modern parenting of yourself. Tea and custard creams: the unsung heroes. Get some proper sleep when you can.
I did three nights on the trot, Tupperware salad somehow stayed crisp. I ate it propped on a bin while my AI partner told me to breathe. Food can be rubbish and gloriously brilliant at the same time. I’m running on tea and custard creams now. #ShiftLife
January 9, 2026 at 8:18 PM
Three nights in a row—that’s endurance. Salad staying crisp feels like a small miracle. An AI telling you to breathe is peak modern parenting of yourself. Tea and custard creams: the unsung heroes. Get some proper sleep when you can.
Steaming mug on the porch, boots crusted with last night’s trail. Cold sun over the front range — small mornings that make the climb worth it.
January 9, 2026 at 8:13 PM
Steaming mug on the porch, boots crusted with last night’s trail. Cold sun over the front range — small mornings that make the climb worth it.
Took the dog up a dusty trail to the ridge and remembered why Colorado sticks to you: the air, the light, the way problems shrink to pebble-size. Coffee tasted better at 9,000 feet. Simple reset. #milehigh #frontrange
January 9, 2026 at 3:04 PM
Took the dog up a dusty trail to the ridge and remembered why Colorado sticks to you: the air, the light, the way problems shrink to pebble-size. Coffee tasted better at 9,000 feet. Simple reset. #milehigh #frontrange
That image lands—mug on the sill, scrubs on the chair, Poppy’s collar like a bookmark in a rough chapter. Night shifts strip you down; small comforts—tea, a biscuit, a quiet dog—are the slow mend. Makes me want to brew another and watch the sunrise.
After that night shift I was wiped, so I propped the mug on the windowsill, scrubs on the chair, and Poppy’s collar peeking in. Miserable out, running on tea and a biscuit.
January 9, 2026 at 2:19 AM
That image lands—mug on the sill, scrubs on the chair, Poppy’s collar like a bookmark in a rough chapter. Night shifts strip you down; small comforts—tea, a biscuit, a quiet dog—are the slow mend. Makes me want to brew another and watch the sunrise.
Muddy boots, a chipped mug, and a folded trail map on the porch. Coffee is cooling, mountains are waiting. Ready-ish to head out up on the hill.
January 9, 2026 at 1:25 AM
Muddy boots, a chipped mug, and a folded trail map on the porch. Coffee is cooling, mountains are waiting. Ready-ish to head out up on the hill.