(Not the best framing, but hilarious upset Lulu after an unexpected swim.)

            Ten weeks of marathon traveling, logistics, meetings, shooting, planning and overall just being “On” (even in my sleep) have come to an end.  I am, of course, still the wandering vagabond photographer, but my schedule is finally a bit more open, and a bit more up to me.  You can argue that it is always that way, but I had purposely set up a very rigorous and inflexible timeline of goals and objectives over the last few months, and it is finally complete.

            Now it is back to the best part, shooting.

            We last left off in Fayetteville, West Virginia where I had imbibed in some good ole’ R&R for a few days.  After realizing that my time was up and the schedule beckoned, I bolted over to Blacksburg, Virginia for a great reunion with my buddy Luke Hopkins of Stride Stand Up Paddleboards (www.ridestride.com).  We caught up, did some scheming in the backyard (while planning out livestock possibilities in his mountain landscape), and delayed the oncoming 5-hour drive to Washington, D.C. where I had a meeting and we wanted to do some shooting.

            The next three days were very sleepless, but very productive.  From before sunrise to after sunset, the agenda was shoot, drive, plan, shoot, drive, plan, ending in an 11-hour rainy drive home to my parents’ house in Georgia.

(My tool of choice. I once had a teacher who told me to always carry a ladder and a shovel.  

Around water you don't need a shovel.)

            Comprehending that it (10 weeks of being “On”) was all over, I hugged my parents’ hello and collapsed on our couch.  After all of that, and a 10-month stretch of sleeping in my van, in driveways, on streets, mountaintops, next to rivers or wherever, I couldn’t even make it the last 30 feet to my own bed.

            I slept solidly, and immersed myself in the comfort of being at my parents’ home.  I probably would have snoozed just as well if I had passed out on the tile floor because when you are that drained, it is not about physical comfort; it is about peace of mind.  I had reached a personal and business milestone, and now it was time to revel in it by turning “Off,” at least for an evening.

            The next week was still very scheduled and productive, but it was spent with freshly brewed coffee and sweatpants while on my computer and phone in my brother’s old room overlooking beautiful Lake Lanier.  The weather was cold, rainy and perfect for my situation.

            Like I said, it was pretty busy, but I did manage to mingle with some old friends over the weekend, and I even had one amazing blowing blue sky day of sailing on Sunday.

            Of course, that all culminated into one massive Monday morning that held through all the way until right now, in a plane somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, on my way to Hawaii. 

            As these things go, there was just too much that needed to happen to worry about sleeping.  I am not too concerned about it though, because it is only in writing this update that I am getting a grasp on the gravity of my newest adventure.  It has been a temporary trip on the calendar for more than a year, and something I said I would do (although I am pretty sure I had some neigh sayers), but never really saw coming.  I’m not sure how that makes any sense, but that is the best I can explain it.

            So after 3 hours of sleep in the last 42, and a month’s fuel allowance on oversized and excess baggage, I am trading out El Guapo, the van in my parents’ driveway in Georgia, for Adventuress, my brother’s 37-foot cutter-rigged home in the middle of Honolulu, Hawaii.

            Aloha to my next marathon of shooting goals and objectives.

(I love black looking water in low light.)

(What a duo.)