I'm feeling nostalgic for the west, for those wide open spaces that by the mere fact the combined feeling of smallness and awe bring tears to the eyes. The sound of Pink Floyd blasting through the car speakers, windows down, wide open road ahead and mountains in the distance. I can't remember the pain of hiking to 10,000 feet, alone and afraid that because of my aloneness I had better not twist an ankle because then, then I would be totally screwed. Living on the edge and knowing without a shadow of a doubt how fortunate I am to be alive. How much my family means to me, how much I miss them, and why, some day, they will be with me in these places.
I don't get out a photograph much these days, and that's OK. I'm doing what needs to be done so that one day, it IS what I will do. Today is my day to make that some day come true. Success beyond my wildest dreams.
For now, some images of the past to predict the future to come ...

The Tombstone Mountains in the Yukon Territory in Canada. This view is from the Dempster Highway, a dead end dirt road as long as Florida is tall.

My first solo mountain backcountry trek – Sawtooth Wilderness, Idaho, 2005. Fifty miles in five days. This was the last time I shot film. Fuji Velvia. Digital ... it's a game changer.

Surreal Utah. Nothing like it. Anywhere. This view is of Sixshooter Peak and the plateaus outside the Needles district of Canyonlands National Park. I shot this a few feet from my car, parked off the dirt road in the Canyon Rims Recreation Area. Free camping on free land. The public owns this land. So easy. If the world only knew ...

Aaahhh ... and my beloved Cascades. Who would have ever thought a Florida boy would stake a claim in the most rugged the West has to offer, much less a claim staked on his own terms. Day 7 of my 14-day solo trek through North Cascades National Park. This is my Japanese Garden, a place of restful sleep for the spirit within, a place of peace, a place for God.
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