I went to the Woods: A trip outside

Published 1:30 am Saturday, September 5, 2026

I don’t seek out conferences, but every once in a while, I’m tempted. I’m happy to report the Outdoor Writers Association of America conference in Madison, Wisconsin, did not disappoint. It did what a good conference should do, inspire, inform, and make you regret you hadn’t been going all along.

I’ve been to conferences where people gather in tight groups and wait their turn to complain. Where people skip out on the workshops. Where the biggest names act like the biggest names and the middle names act like the big names. There’s no time for the newcomer because time with the newcomer is time away from face time with big names.

So, it was a great conference in a big city by Alaska standards (about the same population of Anchorage) though middle tier compared to other state capitals, and provided workshops on the state of humanity.

Here are a few other non-conference related observations from my time in the Lower 48…

I don’t know why it bothers me to see someone walk into a coffee shop and retrieve their online order from a shelf. It’s not that dissimilar to ordering to-go or for pick up, it’s just how the pick up is done. It’s indifferent, anti-social. At least it feels that way. It’s another step in our effort to distance ourselves from others, and eliminate a chance meeting, casual conversation, or interaction with others. Are we really so important we can’t be bothered with a short line? Ever?

There’s nothing more natural than providing people space to do with what they choose, so the Union Terrace at the University of Wisconsin-Madison is as unique as it is simple and practical.

”Go to the lake” usually means some measure of work. Loading up coolers, hoping for a good spot. But it’s right there. You can see it from where you order a beer in the student union! Had I attended the University of Wisconsin, I would have struggled to achieve academically with such architectural design…

Souvenirs go on shelves and end up being sold for $1.50 at a garage sale or donated. A useful purchase doesn’t. Other than cheese, my shopping memory of Madison is an American leather billfold made by the man who sold it to me at Journeyman Co. The store itself seems like the type of locally owned business that was neglected during the proliferation of online shopping, and went out of business. Two decades have passed since that cultural and technological shift, eliminating it as a legitimate excuse. The online vs. in-person retail balance is now baked into the contemporary business model. The shop does a lot of online business, but understands the unmatched feeling of smelling a store. I forgot how soothing it is to be surrounded by businesses that aren’t owned by cruise lines, dedicated to tourists or shut down for half the year…

Concerning cheese, I thought I found the cheese place near downtown, but it turns out I found a cheese place, because one that claimed to have the largest selection of cheese was just around the corner. A sign by the counter read “We’re here for locals, but we’ll ship for you.” That was appealing, but my idea of a good cheese joint is similar to what I look for in a burger place, deli, or bar: a lived-in feeling that brings intimacy and legitimacy. The space is filled but not crowded. It’s not designed to accommodate large crowds because all the thought went into the product, yet it attracts crowds precisely because of that.

I liked the first store better and bought my cheese there, so much cheese that I had to take six pounds out of my checked bag to avoid paying $100.

That’s how you conclude a conference.

Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Juneau Empire.