We called it the The Year of Fire and Ice. The mountains were buried in record snow, and the fires that followed were just part of the deal that year.
For me, it was a season of learning to walk with uncertainty and confidence - across snowfields, through smoke, and into some of the wildest landscapes I’ve ever seen.
These photos are pieces of that journey many years ago. Moments between blisters and laughter, storms and stillness, fear and joy. The kind of days where you realize how small you are and how big creation really is.
The CDT is wild in every sense of the word. It’s not just a trail, it a “LaCroix” of trails that winds through chaos and beauty, often at the same time.
In 2019, I followed (made up) that line from Mexico to Canada, though storms, high plains, and mountains that seemed to go on forever.
Some days it seemed like pure freedom with a payment of tiring efforts. Other days it was stubborn faith - one step at a time, trusting that the next water source, the next sunrise, or the next bit of hope would show up exactly when it needed to.
In 2013 my close friends Jordan and Ruth invited me to join them on a journey through the mountains via the Sierra High Route. This began my first long trail.
If you look closely in the photos you will see Henry a stoic 2.5 year old who also did the route with his parents. Let me tell you this was an adventure of a life time and I still think back to it this day.
We traveled until the Rim Fire kicked us off the trial. The smoke was bad and impeded our breathing. Though we could have gone on we didn’t want to deal with a child having breathing difficulties out in the back country.
We had been hiking for six hours, after being dropped off by my friend in a bush plane and hiking from sea level to just under 6,000 ft., dinner was long overdue. It was nearing midnight, and to my disbelief, the sun was still fighting to stay above the horizon.
We needed sleep, tomorrow was going to be a long day, but how do you sleep in a tent when all the lights are still on outside? I laid my head on my pillow, reminiscing about he past few hours and trying not to think about the fact that I was camping on one of Alaska’s most active volcanoes.
Never in my life did I imagine tonight’s bed would be here. Somewhere between awe and exhaustion, I some how managed to convince myself being dropped off on an active volcano in the middle of the Bering Sea was a reasonable life choice…or at that moment at least the closest thing to it I’d ever attempt.
Some scents are better without color. The light and lack there of creates details that may be missed in the full spectrum. This is what black and white if for.
This is a small collection of moments I’ve captured from wide open landscapes, to quick fleeting details, these images share a different story.
Always worth a second look.
