Fifty-two week photo project. Week 1. OLD
Click through for more info.
I'm taking off on a 52 week photo project. One photo per week. A day in my life. I have themes for each week, but they won't be revealed until I put the photo up every week.
The thunder cracked, breaking the deadening silence of the snowstorm. The white sky was alight in a myriad of blues, greens, and a tinge of neon yellow. The wind stirred the snow piling up around me. Sitting in a curled ball on my rope and backpack in a small cave, I looked over at my climbing partner. Eric’s face was pale, eyes wide, and he was shivering – from both the cold and unfiltered fear. I was trembling; my eyes darted around as the sky exploded violently around us. We were isolated and dependent on each other. Read More
I curled my toes over a rock outcropping, staring at the alpine pond we had come across still half-shrouded in ice. The warm Sierra sun shined through the trees, illuminating the verdant grasses around the pond in an almost magical way. The air was still and silent; crisp, cool, yet warm and inviting. I could hear my heartbeat; I could hear the rustling of clothes being stripped off by my friends. The anticipation was palpable. It was juncture in time that the path of my life transitioned. Read More
As the patrol agent slowly came by I prepared myself for my usual rant and rhetoric with overly assertive peacekeepers. Though, it was raining - no pouring out - and I was on the move. I casually passed and with a smile, nod, and a polite wave the Border Patrol agent continued casually down the road. Here I was at the often ballyhooed start of the Pacific Crest Trail. Alone with all but Maura, my ride, in the sleet/rain/hail/maelstrom from the sky. Before you ask, no I’m not hiking it… all… this year. Maybe someday in the future, but not now. Read More
On a chilly Tuesday evening in April I made my way down the block to a field across the ravine from the parking lot for the Zoo. Having read about it and seeing track I was excited to find out that there were races and that this oddity wasn't just a training ground. San Diego is home to one of four Velodromes in California and one of 28 in the united states. It is here that you can witness the sport of track bicycle racing. Read More
As I drove up past the information board two people came into sight holding hands, the couple was taking a casual stroll down the road in the 100° heat. I had arrived at this oasis in the desert, a welcome home for hipsters, hippies, and freethinking types comfortable with everything around them. The first people I interacted with were two women towing a trailer behind their SUV which had inconveniently broke down in the middle of the road, I got out and helped them get on their way and found my way to a campsite nestled in the mesquite trees. Over my shoulder I watched as the burros chomped away at the foliage and over the gentle breeze laughter rang out from the children playing in the shallow pond in the distance. Read More
I’ve been climbing, backpacking, and skiing for longer than I can remember; yet perhaps my reasons for doing so have varied over time. Early on, the simple practicality of it was to get out and enjoy the mountain lifestyle with my parents, but now there is plenty of evidence that I do it for the moments of exultation and sheer joy. To say that there aren’t moments of fear and timidity would be a detraction to the real dangers involved. Whether seeking out the easiest passage through mountain barriers or figuring out a perplexing puzzle on a sport route, there are indeed few in this world who may be tempted to clamber higher for no more reason than the thrill of the morning, or for elevation and prospect and the satisfaction of doing what few have done before. The few who understand this are climbers like me. Read More