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He tried with wind, then with a Volvo. Now the Reaper tries with my own stupidity.

With a flick of the wrist, Death finally got my attention.

Wordsworth’s bones weren’t enough for a detour. It was little Catherine who gave me pause.

Episode includes lying to Australians. Listener discretion advised.

Where was I. No really, I'm asking.

Now the real Northing begins.

Look on my Gift Shoppe, ye Mighty, and despair!

Right around the Crown & Trumpet, a visitor begins to sense that something is…off.

The British haven’t quite figured out how they feel about their lunatics.

Their children's CHILDREN will tremble to hear of the day Oogaboo crossed the field.

It would take a hiker of epic inability to screw this up, a statement known as “ham-fisted foreshadowing.”

I was finally going to stand on that bright red line.

A bad death, a good pee, and my first hallucinations.

Pepys wrote about sex, death, and beer enemas, often in the same paragraph. But mostly he wrote about being Sam Pepys.

I’d wanted some Death to contemplate, but London was way too eager to comply.

At the end of the final hike, I'll be plenty impressed with myself. But not at the end of this one.

In the center of your chest is a pump made of meat.

As I flew toward the 100-foot drop-off, I realized I was going to die. The only question was when.