Lumberjack

It's not everyday that you're worried that logs will get picked up by the tide and roll over you. I started this shoot by being a debris mover. What's a debris mover? It's when a person moves stuff around. In this case, I was attempting to get the sand back to a blank canvas for the coming reflections. Some of these logs were scary enough to kill me, but light enough for me to carry further up the beach in what I deemed to be a safe position. "Safe" was just an educated guess based on the location of all the other large logs. I also crossed my fingers. As sunset approached, I really started to tidy up.

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Bright Idea

As I was getting my beauty rest, I was stirred awake by someone clapping their hands outside my tent and turning on and off a huge flashlight… or so I thought until I peeked outside and got a glimpse of this thunderstorm passing right through the campground. Being the smart person that I am, I tried to go back to sleep. Then I remembered something about how getting electrocuted wasn't a good thing and how being in a car with its fancy pre-made Faraday cage might offer better protection than my tent. So I made the move and locked the doors in case the lightning was planning on breaking in.

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Blowin' In The Wind

I don’t always know what I’m doing. I’m winging it a lot. On purpose. I like to be surprised. And that’s how I stumble upon these unique locations. I take the chance to be disappointed. When I was packing my vehicle, there was no way I could anticipate what kind of adventure I was looking for. I brought everything. Car camping to backpacking to everything in between. I somehow ended up in between.

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Deflated

For three trips in a row, I had an inflatable sleeping mattress that didn't want to do its job: stay inflated. The first time around I didn't have the repair kit with me on a quick backpacking trip. I chalked it up to bad luck for a five-year-old mattress and moved on with life by blowing it up every few hours for a couple of summer nights. I added a midday nap or two into the mix. I got home telling myself I'd fix it. Didn't happen.

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Spare Me

Sometimes the wheels fall off. Sometimes one wheel nearly falls off. I stopped here and camped for the night as a midway point on my way to Zion. I had a permit in hand for the Subway, a favorite of mine. I was excited, but something felt off. I kept hearing this faint clunking sound coming from the rear end of my car. It got worse the next morning. After I shot sunrise, after I broke down camp, and after I was back on the road to Zion for an hour or so, I pulled over and stopped in a small town. I walked around my car, looked underneath, and bounced my trunk. Nothing. I couldn’t pinpoint it. Sure enough when I started driving again, it came back. Except worse. I stepped out and called my wife. After a lengthy conversation, and with her encouragement, I came to the conclusion to turn around. I was already 7+ hours away from home and had another 3-4 hours ahead of me. I was prepared to cut my losses.

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Mousetrapped

The morning of the day I took this shot was eventful, to say the least. I let myself sleep in and sacrificed shooting sunrise. It was a welcome treat to a landscape photographer used to waking up in the wee hours of the day. I figured I'd have a low key morning and shoot sunset later. Not to be. After getting up, I decided to eat breakfast like a normal human being. I opened up my trunk and saw a little black shadow move about. I pulled some of my bags out. Nothing. So I carry on with my routine. I write it off as my mind playing tricks on me to start the day. I grab my bagels and sit down only to find a hole in the bottom of the bag. So I grab more food from the trunk. Another hole. This time in the popcorn bag. Terror. Panic. This isn't going to be a relaxing morning.

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Spineless

One of the backcountry sites we reserved had a solar composting toilet. No idea how the solar part worked and I didn’t bother to investigate. I still preferred the nearby sandbox. Upon coming back late after sunset, we found a squatter at our site. I didn’t realize at first. As I headed towards my tent, my traveling partner and fellow photographer, Jacob Hanson, matter of fact told me that it wasn’t my tent. It was dark, but I know where I parked my tent by golly. And I figured he was just pulling my chain. But low and behold it wasn’t my tent. I’m sure I frightened the mystery man as I was confidently walking towards him and grabbed his zipper. Close call. That night we quietly ate some soup and called it a night.

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Midnight Rider

I like to put a couple of my favorite things together: PB&Bananas. Coffee and chia seeds. On this occasion I went with mountain biking and photography. As I was packing the car, I decided to throw my bike up top. Spur of the moment decision. Turned out to be a good choice, if not out of necessity. I have a little coupe that simply won’t make it down some of these roads, but somehow, someway I’ve always managed.

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Vandalism

Not a whole lot of people go where I go or stay out as late. I love wilderness areas or national forests where you can head anywhere you want. I quickly get myself off the beaten path to explore. I didn’t see anyone all day long. On the hike back I went ahead and broke a cardinal rule in the wild: Don’t play loud music. I turned it up. I was getting all into it. Singing along like I should be considering a new career. Clapping my hands. Then all of a sudden my hands were tied. Literally. The elastic ends of my winter gloves twisted together during my performance. I was handcuffed. Guilty as charged.

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