Matthew T Ryder

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Local Studies in Idaho

March 2025. Have you ever been in a phase where you were zipping through life so fast, you forgot where you even were? You forgot to look around. You forgot to savor your surroundings.A week in Idaho made me slam on the brakes and say, whoa buddy look at how good the backyard is.Sam has this mentality down to a T. He is ski touring his local mountains prolifically, with intention and reverence.He is documenting his project in a self-published magazine called Local Studies. The goal is to explore his most local mountains by climbing up and skiing down.At the breakfast table, his 4 year old son was asked what superpower he wants to have. Wes said "I want to climb 100 mountains." All to say, Sam's way of being is deep and radiates.

Do I Still Want to Be the Beet Guy?

February 23, 2025 I didn’t want to go. I was tired. We had argued. We got a late start. The engine hummed in 6th gear. Full speed, barreling west, the windshield overexposed to the afternoon sun. We were driving to Ojai to chop 30 pounds of beets from Steve Sprinkle*. Chopping felt like punishment, not purpose.My stomach was tight, my reactions were on edge. Nothing in my body said, now’s the time to prep beet juice for four weeks from now. But Jessica and I had never spent time with Howard at his farm. We committed. Still, I wondered: was I doing this out of devotion to an identity and fear of letting go? Of not being a beet guy anymore?We turned into the farm. The tires sounded like a pepper grinder on the course gravel road. The air was dry and wispy, wafting through the citrus trees surrounding us. The first person we saw wasn’t Howard. John and Brandy, who live in the vintage airstream and manage his farm, greeted us. “Howard told us about your beet kvass. If you don’t have plans for the tops, we’ll gladly plant them to grow seeds for next year.”I set up the beets, press, and croc on the table. My apron wrapped neatly around my waist and neck. I stood up into an athletic stance—necessary for 40 minutes straight of chopping. I started the motions: sever the tops and tails, cut into quarters, press, repeat. At some point Howard emerged. He and Jessica talked and prepared some dinner. They knew I was in a rhythm. I felt the calm of community presence. 5 people on the farm, each with our own idea about how we would be using these beets. The tightness eased. My eyes softened. I started to accept instead of react.What would have happened if we didn’t come today? Why do I need to make such a large batch of kvass? Kvass has been deeply personal for both me and for Howard. We share what we make directly, without charge. We have, at times, considered scaling and selling it. As I chop, I meditate. Would scaling it kill the magic? Turn a sacred act into a shelf item. Sterilized and impersonal, like so many other community rituals have become.I didn’t want to lose the magic of stained hands. I want people to taste time—especially the slowness of crops and seasons. Kvass slows me down. I want consistency and commitment to be as central to the experience as the viscosity of the drink itself. The effervescence of a fermented culture connects people to each other and to the story of the food they consume. The thought of sharing a glass bubbles bright inside me.The heap of beets sat on the table in front of me. I put double fist fulls in the crocs, covered them with salt and water, and loaded the car. The tops went to John and Brandy, who were delighted at the beet seeds they’d have later this year. We said goodbye to Howard. We drove off into the magical Ojai pink moment. I reached across for Jessica. Her hand was warm and welcoming; mine was stained in beets; our fingered intertwined. We heard the first little bubble come up through the croc—a cute familiar sound like an underwater kiss—and giggled. The culture was alive. We’d be taking our first sip the last week of March.*Steve Sprinkle of The Farmer and the Cook in Ojai.

Backyard hike & pizza

March 24, 2025. Dan and I hiked behind the house at the farm. We kept going up until we reached the Wright house. We sat and looked out at the ocean: first point and beyond.The walk back down was easy. We called Jessica and asked her to pre-heat the oven. By the time we made it down after our little detour, the oven was heated up and ready to go.Detroit style sourdough pizza coming up.Pizza has always held this place as a food for celebration. Birthday parties, end of the week, the one meal you want when you burned thousands of calories. The comfort and indulgence of pizza is one of the beautiful things in life. Pizza is universally loved. When you love pizza, it loves you back.

Malibu Fire & Water

December 11, 2024. A day not to be forgotten. The Franklin Fire arrives in Serra Retreat. A calm but ominous day on the ocean followed by a night that would escalate in severity.We had to evacuate. We went to a house in the Palisades (a house which would later burn down in the Palisades Fire). The animals joined, and we were in the news. Getting back home came with mixed emotions. Gratitude for our house to still stand, but our personal foundations shook...

Mt. Williamson

September 21, 2023. Summit Mt. Williamson in the fall. Scouting mission for skiing it the following spring.I fell asleep on the summit for nearly an hour. I descended and the first snowstorm of the year began.I went to bed at lower elevation. It rained all night. My hammock was nestled beneath a tightly cinched down tarp. I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink.I slept and woke up in the morning. Water, coffee, breakfast, and all was right in my world. Time to head home.

Mt. Shasta

May 21, 2023. This was my 6th attempt to summit Mount Shasta. It wasn't always natural forces that derailed our previous plans - sometimes just a forgotten piece of gear or a car engine failure. This day was beautiful and we made it to the summit.We started at 1:43 am and sumitted at 10:43 am. The weather was perfect for a summit day. I couldn't believe my fortune to be standing there. I told myself over and over, you are exactly where you want to be.The ski down wasn't necessarily as fun. The snow conditions were very mixed. Some, small, amounts of good corn snow. Mostly, it was lumpy, sticky, heavy, and icy.