One month is a long time to pass with no blog updates.  I apologize for leaving everyone out of the loop but I hope it is an indication for how nutty things have been lately. 

My logistical marathon started nearly one month ago with an amazing weeklong assignment on the Rogue River in southern Oregon.  We had sunshine, cool water and big smiles.  I don’t know how else to describe it except that it was the perfect fit for everyone on the trip.

My four-day return to Colorado had me pulling off long sweat filled computer days inside a very hot El Guapo (the van).  It was rough, but well worth it as it allowed me the time to hop on another plane for six very nice, unplugged days in Georgia with my family and friends.  In fact, it was the first vacation I have taken in my adult life! 

I stepped back ten years and it turned out to be exactly what I needed. Board shorts, sunglasses, family, friends and my old wakeboarding stomping grounds on Lake Lanier.  That was all I wanted and it delivered.

My return flight to Colorado and El Guapo dropped me right back in the thick of things.  I managed a few hours of sleep then kick started my life again with a few hours of emails and an editor meeting coupled with a 500-mile drive, a few phone calls and the audio version of The Alchemist.  Seventeen hours later I pulled into a familiar spot in Park City, Utah at my friends’ cabin.  We had a short visit in the morning and I was off again for the final leg to Lake Tahoe.

I have been here for a week working on few new developments that I was hoping to share by now, but unfortunately it looks like they will have to wait.

As always, my time here is short. I will be taking a break from the lower 48 on Wednesday and heading to Alaska.  Two full days of travel logistics will have me on a ten-day river assignment inside the Arctic Circle and I could not be more excited!  If there was such thing as the perfect assignment for me, this is it.  I have spent a lot of time in Alaska and the Yukon Territory and so far in my travels, I have not found a place that I like better.

After that, I have set up three weeks of personal trips, stock shoots and a quick trip to Mexico for one of my best friends' wedding.  Most of my time will be in the field or on the move so please bare with me if I can’t get another post up before September.

Hasta!

“7 days of no kayaking makes one weak.”

This quote is from a bumper sticker that you can see going by on almost any rack-laden vehicle in the Reno area.  For me, it is a sight for sore eyes and I can’t think of a better way to describe this last week.

It all started with the annual Reno River Festival.  This year marked my fourth year in attendance, but was only my first year as a true spectator.  For one reason or another, I have always shot this event (mostly self-assigning), so it was a real treat to just hang out.  The camera was along for a few images but, for the most part, I just walked around and caught up with all of the kayakers that I have spent so much time traveling and shooting with in the past.


(Jackson Kayak team member Clay Wright during the Reno River Festival.)

We all did the whole story-swapping bit for most of the weekend, but it was also a great chance to talk with everyone about summer plans, future shooting and new ideas.  By the time it was all over, this week’s paddling and shooting thoughts were in motion and I was in full planning mode.

I had Monday to recover from the weekend, work through some logistics and make communications that would allow me to disconnect for a few days and wait for the call.  As it always does when it comes to kayaking, the plan literally came together at the eleventh hour.  It was eleven o’clock at night before I had a solid grasp on where people were going before all cell phone service would be lost in the northern Sierra.  I set my alarm for a 4:30 a.m. wakeup and I was set to go.

The next morning’s travel was just shy of epic with a random snowstorm slowing traffic on I-80, my limited knowledge of where I was going, last-minute grocery and equipment purchases along the way and a group of kayakers so large that we actually ended up with a convoy of nine station wagons, vans or trucks and one RV pulling it’s own shuttle car.  We were definitely a sight for each small town we passed through.  Oh, and the convoy basically started with individual vehicles in different places that all met up along the way.  To put it short, logistics were crazy.

As we closed in on our final destination, about an hour from any phone reception, you could feel the excitement growing.  I was especially psyched because I knew that instead of my usual two to four paddlers, I was going to have upwards of fifteen people to shoot.  Not only that, but we were all on a mission to be there because of this creek’s known “edge of the world” steepness.  All of the elements for a successful few days seemed to be present.

On top of all of that, I had an old college friend lined up to hang out and join us.  He had a great time, helped me out a ton (being the photographer, my logistics are usually harder than even the biggest group of paddlers) and even shot some images of me at work.  Thanks again Billy, I can’t wait until the next time we cross paths!


(Jackson Kayak team member Phil Boyer leaving the lip of one of the cleanest 50 ft falls on the planet.)

After using my first day mostly as a scouting trip, I realized that there was no way I would be able to get the image I really wanted by paddling.  My vision would require hiking all of my gear down to the river, then paddling across the river only feet above a 50 ft waterfall, then a burly bushwack of a climb up the other side of the gorge.  It seemed like a lot of work for one set of images, but that was the set I was after.  There was no question in my mind about whether or not to go for it.

I put in the time, the miles, the sweat, blood (no tears) and ensuing poison oak rash, but we got it.  The rapids lined up exactly how I had hoped they would and I was able to photograph one of the most impressive displays of athleticism and gumption I have ever seen.  It was beautiful.

It was so impactful for me to see this through my lens that I have decided to run this section of whitewater next spring.  I have some work to do before then, but I want someone out there to hold me to this.  I want to know what it is like to paddle up to the lip of this set of drops without any view of where it ends, and go anyways.

All of that aside, it was also just great to hang out with old friends and familiar faces on the water and in the woods.  After a few weeks of office work and a stomach virus, this last week really solidified why I do this.  I can’t imagine  any other life.

Now, it’s off to Downieville, California for a few more days of the same: paddling, camping, shooting and reveling in the state of being disconnected, even if only for a little while.


(Demshitz crew and Pyranha team member Jared Seiler styling "99 Problems".)


(Demshitz crew and Pyranha team members Jeremy Laucks and Graham Seiler doing a real man's portage.)


(Jackson Kayak team member Stephen Wright dropping in on 50 feet of free fall.)

This post is a part of a publishing experiment called A Steady Drip.  Go to the table of contents at www.asteadydrip.com to see more.

El Guapo (the van) and I have been on the road together for 733 days.

It all started with an epiphany explained a few posts down while I was splitting my time between South Lake Tahoe, California (SLT) and Reno, Nevada.  That epiphany snowballed into a master plan very quickly and here we are, back in the same area two years, 39,968 miles, hundreds of thousands of photos and countless experiences later.  Man it feels good to be back!

In no way is this a signing off post.  Guapo and I are still going strong with many plans for the future, but it really feels like we have arrived “home” after a long trip. This is something we can all relate to, but for a pair with no address, this “home” feeling does not come easily. 

There are a few other places I cherish the same, but professionally, it all started here.  This is the last place I lived, worked and shared a community of friends.  I love the people, the mountains, the rivers and lakes.  I am really happy that for the time being, the Reno / Tahoe area is “home”.

Last Saturday, April 17^th, 2010, was the official anniversary with Guapo.  It was on that day two years earlier that I flew from Reno to Santa Barbara to pick up the van and start a new life.  I have written at length in my posts about how that move and several others have added unforeseen value and experiences to my existence, so I won’t go into any more detail about the actual transition.  What I really want to commemorate is the fact that two years have passed and we are still rolling, still growing and still hungry for more.

So how did I spend the two-year anniversary?  I participated in a Boater-X event on Mt. Rose where about 20 of us geared up in a mix of skiing and kayaking equipment, sprayed Pam on the bottom of our kayaks and raced down a bobsled style course.  I definitely did not win, but it was fun to be around kayakers I have met, shot and traveled and paddled with along this two-year journey.


(Current World Champion Nick Troutman in first, Brian Tupper in second and me in third.  Many thanks to Reno local and photographer, kayaker and skier extraordinaire Scott Sady of TahoeLight.com for the image.)

Afterwards, I went straight to Downieville, one of my favorite towns in Northern California, to camp and kayak with some old friends.  I found them in a heap of wet gear on the side of Highway 49 after one long, failed attempt at hitchhiking the shuttle back to their car after paddling all afternoon.

I picked up the two stragglers and we caught up over a campfire by the river.  The sun was out the next morning, the coffee was strong and the water brisk.  We were all smiles as the day was spent dissecting rapids, taking in the scenery and talking and laughing about whatever we could think of.  It was the perfect transition into summer, and into being “home,” at least for a little while.

Here are a few photos of Guapo along the way these past two years.

This post is a part of the publishing experiment called A Steady Drip.  Go to the table of contents at www.asteadydrip.com to see more.

El Guapo (the van) pulled into a pretty special parking spot last night.  It is a spot that I first experienced with my older brother (Rush) four years ago.  We were unemployed, living in his Nissan Exterra and soaking in everything the winter west had to offer.  It was the first time either of us laid eyes on the Tetons and it was too overwhelming to keep going.  We parked, took some pictures, pretended like we were the characters in a Patagonia catalog and even went for a small (very small) backcountry ride on a nearby hill (fresh out of our Avy 1 course, we still had no clue so we didn’t take any chances).

When I woke up yesterday morning in Park City, Utah with the knowledge that my day would end in Jackson, Wyoming, I knew I had to go back to that initial parking spot.  I had to pay homage to that wonderful memory, and more importantly, that wonderful trip. 

  (Now you see why this parking spot is so great.  Reading and relaxing.)

It was a trip that changed our lives.  It taught us to trust our instincts and go after the things we want.  It was also the beginning of a few self-directed opportunities that snowballed into where we are today.  Rush is now married to the love of his life.  They have a house near the beach, a dog they love and jobs they look forward to.  In other words, they are psyched!

And you all know my deal.

Simply put, that trip was the first in a series of bold decisions for both of us.  Every turn we made and every lot we pulled into helped shape our future and the notion that we might have some control over it.  To others, we were just out being irresponsible and having a good time while we were young, but to us, we were learning very important lessons about the power of going and doing.  I can say with full confidence that it all started with that trip, for both of us.

Rush is busy with his life now and I am busy with mine.

Since my last post, I have been managing the usual responsibilities while also watching the weather, lining up athletes and shooting a lot of backcountry skiing.  I am working on a project that is taking me into a new field and testing every bit of resourcefulness I can come up with, and I couldn’t be more excited about it. 

This assignment has me shooting stills, video and learning about audio (really, I am learning about all three together).  Even better, it has me charging the backcountry to do so.

My legs have earned some elevation, but they will be resting a bit this week as I have another assignment that will have me shooting at Jackson Hole and Grand Targhee resorts all week; all chairlifts and no hiking.  Actually, I have only had one other day on my resort board this entire winter, so it is a welcome change.

The next few weeks will be really busy, and I will do my best to post updates as often as possible.  In the meantime, I will see if I can dig up some images from that first visit to this now infamous parking spot of mine.

Ahhh Utah.  I have made it back to the West and more specifically, the snow!  I have been dreaming about powder days and backcountry trips for months now (even while hanging out in board shorts in Hawaii), so it is really exciting to finally be here.

Since leaving St. Louis soon after my last post, El Guapo (the van) and I have traveled roughly 1,500 miles, stopping in Denver, Boulder and Cheyenne to reconnect with old friends and to meet with new ones.  We were on a tight schedule and managed to make it to Salt Lake City just in time for a solid few days of Outdoor Retailer Show (OR) madness.  It was all a bit overwhelming at first, but in the end, I met some great people, learned a lot about the show and connected with some characters I had only previously known through social networking.  And if that wasn’t enough, I somehow managed to try on the new Champion SuperSuit while hearing stories of an expedition to Mount Pumori in the Himalaya.

These tales of experience were everywhere, from adventure racing in Tierra del Fuego to sledge hauling across Antarctica and expeditions on Everest.  It was all pretty impressive, but my favorite story was of a van dweller turned editor.  This was definitely my crowd, and definitely worth the long distance sprint.

I have since spent my time plowing through a few items I haven’t been able to handle in the previously mentioned craziness, but am looking forward to getting on a mountain this weekend and really diving into winter.  In the coming weeks I will be shooting something I have been planning for more than a year, and can’t wait to really have at it.

On a side note, my friend and fellow adventure photographer Michael Clark (no relation) has recently published his new book Digital Masters: Adventure Photography.  It is an all encompassing read on how to capture high-end adventure sports images, from equipment and techniques to the many approaches one can take in becoming a pro.

I learned about this book one morning last spring when I was surprised and honored to receive a call from Michael asking if I would be a resource for the whitewater section.  I of course said yes and am now very proud and excited to announce that it is on the shelves.  You can order one online at Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble, or just pick one up at your local bookstore.

Nice work Michael!

That’s right folks, after a month of rest, catching up, planning, holidays, family time and van upgrades, El Guapo (the van) and I are finally rolling again, and IT FEELS GOOD. 

A full month sounds like a long time to rest, but after an eleven-month stretch on the road, it was a wonderful respite. The truth is, I actually had no idea how run down I was until my head hit the pillow for the first time, inside the house and on a real bed.

Life has been very busy, productive, and fulfilling, but in different ways.  I traded shooting, driving and outside time for planning and family time, which proved invaluable.  I never know when I will see my family next, so for the past few years I have dedicated this time of year to just being there, enjoying morning conversations over coffee (where any topic is fair game), watching movies after dinner (when I might usually be working) and, of course, eating a lot of good food and laughing as much as possible.  On top of all of that, I was able to reconnect with a lot of old friends.  It was a great month.

I do apologize for taking a little break from updating the blog, but time just went too quickly.

Since leaving home on Wednesday morning, Guapo and I have already driven a full day to St. Louis, met up with an old friend (and made some new friends), met with our web designers (www.simpleflame.com) to discuss some new projects and the upcoming year, started hands on work with this year’s Trevor Clark Photography swag (among other fun things), shot cycling in freezing fog and we are currently parked in the driveway of one of my favorite families.  The upcoming schedule is more of the same craziness, with a drive to Denver on Monday, Boulder on Tuesday and Salt Lake City on Wednesday, complete with meet ups and meetings along the way.  It’s life back on the road, and I love it!

(Great friend Blaine Deutsch working hard.)

(Great friend Blaine Deutsch playing hard.)

            It’s that time of year again.  Yep, the holidays, but also my time at home to hunker down and plow through mounds of catch up work while also pulling off all of my Christmas duties and planning for the next year on the road.  It’s like working forward and backwards at the same time, while still having plenty to do in the present.  I don’t want this to come off as a complaint; I’m really just explaining what I have been up to.

            Filling the desk jockey role for the last few weeks, I have definitely neglected my need to be outside for all but two half days and one amazing full day.  That is not much outside time for someone who, for the most part, lives outside, but it has put a few things into perspective for me, and that is what I would like to share.

            Life is short.

            We have all heard this phrase as an inspiration to go do whatever it is that makes us happy or fulfilled.  It seems to reverberate deeply into our most basic understanding of life as a timeline and the idea that what is most important should not be pushed aside for what is (in the big picture) less important.

            I bring this up because a week or so ago, I was sitting at my computer, handling my workload while witnessing a perfect blue sky, 20 mph wind day on the lake pass me by. 

I was going through some files in a storage room when my Mom came in to look for Christmas decorations.  I mentioned what an amazing day of sailing we were missing, which prompted me to ask if she thought my Dad would drop his home repair project for an afternoon on the water.

Always the responsible one, I was surprised to hear my Mom blurt out, “Oh my goodness, ask him, go sailing, life is too short!”

Done.  Life is too short.  It is such a simple phrase, but it does it every time.  Suddenly, nothing was as important as spending a few quality hours in a boat with my Dad.  I asked, and he reacted the same way my Mom did.  He dropped everything and even beat me in getting down to our little 30-year-old J-24.

I don’t need to describe the day any more to let you know that it was completely worth it.  We came in at sunset, warmed up and I hopped back on the computer and worked late to finish everything I had planned for the day.

The next morning, I opened my Facebook account and saw a few comments on my update about sailing and life being short.  It seemed that quite a few people agreed, and the father of a friend even wrote me a note about taking advantage of every moment available, especially with family.  He had just come in from a funeral for his son’s 18-year-old friend who was killed in a car accident.  It is extremely unfortunate, and my heart goes out to the family.

The lesson is, unexplainable and tragic events happen, and we never know when or how, so we must try to remember to live everyday.

The following weekend, I had the opportunity to spend a morning mountain biking with two old friends.  It was a Saturday, and I had plenty to do.  I was hoping to take advantage of time with no business communications (being a weekend) and hammer out other tasks that get set aside during the normal week.

Same thing.  I thought about my afternoon on the lake and the advice from my friend’s father and realized that everything else could and should wait, so I went mountain biking with my friends.

We had a great time, got some exercise and reconnected in a beautiful setting.  And all of that aside, we also shared something that you only get (or maybe I only get) from being outside.  It is a comaraderie among those who experience life outside together in its simplest form.  Everything else fades away when the situation demands only one thing; get up this hill, get through this rapid or over that next ridge.  It is simple, it is pure, and it is beautiful.  Once again, it was completely worth it.

Those are the two half days, only a few hours each, but they meant so much.

The one full day was this last Saturday.  A rainy Friday meant the rivers in the area would be up.  A buddy’s text message and a phone call later and I was set to paddle a “southeastern gem” called Overflow Creek.  I haven’t paddled anything really steep and challenging in months (many months), so I was a little hesitant until my paddling buddy said something that was all too reminiscent of my mom’s life is too short comment.  He said, “Man, this creek is a gem, when it’s running, you paddle it.”

And once again, done.

He was right, the creek is a gem and I was truly lucky to catch it with water and such a great crew.  I was the only one who had never been on the run, but everyone made me feel completely comfortable with it.  Good decisions were made, beta was given, safety was set when we needed it and there were no bad lines (Although I missed two strokes that would have made my life a little easier.  Still, nothing serious.)  Thanks again guys!

Hours later, I met up with some old friends and ended up climbing for a few hours.  I am no climber, but I had a great time challenging myself in something different and clowning around with old buddies.  I honestly cannot think of a better way to spend time with people than being active outside.

Whether it is biking, climbing, kayaking, sailing or anything else, being outside in open spaces actually brings us together.  It shrinks us down and separates us from everything that seems so important when we are inside.  Be it an email, a phone call, paper, proposal or whatever, it is all very insignificant when you are staring down a waterfall with butterflies in your stomach or cruising a wide open lake at sunset with your Dad.

My thought for the day is, do what is really important for yourself and those around you, because life IS short.

As I finished that closing thought, I received a text message from my friend.  It reads, “If I get home tonight and my extra light works do you want to go night riding?”

I answered, “Yep.”

            (Me terrified, keep reading.)

Cray-Z.

One phone call changed my entire situation from traveling in a beater van on Maui one week ago, to my brother’s boat on O’ahu two days ago, to my folks’ house in Georgia today, to a big trip with El Guapo (the van) to Tennessee tomorrow. 

Yikes!

You may be wondering what kind of phone call would make me leave Hawaii in such haste to come back to winter in the southeast, but unfortunately, I am going to have to keep it hush hush for now and fill you in at a later date.

In the meantime, we’ll get caught up on the happenings in Hawaii.

After changing my schedule and realizing I could no longer plan very far into the future in Hawaii, I tried to take a mini vacation.  I say I tried because I ended up shooting during three of my last seven days in the islands.  That said, my time was still very relaxing. 

My good friend and traveling partner, Mike D, and I took a few nice drives, including the infamous Road to Hana.  It was one of two places our beater van rental company told us not to go (because the tow back would cost more than the entire rental), so naturally, we deemed it good and took the risk.  My feet were up, we had freshly picked avocados and starfruit on the dash and I was doing a little bit of Twitter bragging before we ran out of cell phone service.  Of course, as Karma would have it, my envious audience was granted its wish and by day’s end my photo taking, Twitter posting iPhone was nothing more than a paperweight.  No qualms here, I deserved it.

It all came about with a mini expedition up four waterfalls that entailed tossing our gear into a drybag (I never leave home without one) and hiking and swimming our way as far upstream as possible.  We made it to the fourth waterfall, and as I worked through the gear in the drybag, I accidentally laid the iPhone on a towel on top of a very slippery slide shaped rock.  You know where this is going.  I grabbed the towel, the phone went down the slip ‘n slide and off of a very nice ramp and into the water.  The funny / ironic part is that when I made it to the phone, I could see that under three feet of water, I had a voicemail.   It was the voicemail I had been expecting.  It was the one that would change everything or change nothing.  When I tried to check the message, the phone merely dribbled water into my ear.  Yep, I had that one coming.

Losing a phone is not a big deal to most people, but for me, and especially in this situation, it is my lifeline.  I run every aspect of my life and business through my phone, and particularly when I am away from El Guapo.

(When the trail disappears into the water, swim.)

Seeing no immediately helpful alternative, we finished the drive to Hana with old stories, jokes and thoughts of the future, then headed back to town in order to hit up the AT&T store the next day.

Our remaining time on Maui was consumed by one last evening of hanging out and shooting with Waveskier extraordinaire Tyler Lausten at his waveski shop in Ha’iku and one amazing Thanksgiving with great people in Kula.  It was a holiday of all sports.  If there is a backyard game that you can think of, we played it, and we played it with all of the intensity you might expect from a Superbowl matchup.

(Tyler Lausten working on a new board in his shaping room.)

After the holiday of team sports was over, we made our way back to O’ahu where I spent the next two days kiteboarding and teaching Mike some of the basics in Kailua.  After being skunked by wind and adverse conditions for nearly four months, I finally got out on the water with good wind.  The icing on the cake was spending that time under a beautiful sunset while riding full speed only feet above intricate reefs in turquoise water.  It was one of those perma smile experiences that I will not forget.

Suddenly, it was our last day.  I shipped a few reflectors (too fragile and expensive to check w/ my luggage), made some calls, packed my bags and finished off the trip with a last minute one man outrigger canoe shoot.  I had been trying to shoot this during my entire stay, so there was no way I could pass it up for a lack of time.

Always working for a new take on things, I talked the folks in the support boat into letting me jump in the water with my housing.  Of course, I was doing this at sunset in known Tiger shark waters.  Not smart, but I had been talking about this forever and it was time to walk the walk.  After all, if it was easy and less scary, everyone would do it, right?  That’s me justifying a dumb move.

(Kamanu Composites team paddler near China Walls, East side of O'ahu.)

The real fear hit when I entered the water, looked down and could only see blue.  I spend my life in water, but the thought of a predator grabbing me from below while my mind is focused above the surface is just plain terrifying.  I worked my way over to some impressive walls, hoping for shallower water and a nicer background and found it.  Not saying I helped my chances at all, but being in 30 feet of water and seeing the bottom helped my psyche big time.

We shot until the water turned black, then kicked it in gear, showered up and made it to the airport, soaking wet camera bag carry on and all.

My time in Hawaii was shorter and much different than I expected, but that is the name of the game.  If we could somehow expect the outcome of our adventures, then what would be the fun of swimming in the unknown.

A big thanks goes out to John Puakea and Kamanu Composites for making that last shoot happen.  You guys are great, and I hope to meet up with you again sometime soon, maybe in shallower waters.

(SPAM and avocado wrap.  Bad idea.)

(Leaving our mark.)