I will be 27 years old in two days.  It is my birthday and like all birthdays, it is special.  I am sure I will talk with my family and friends, and I am hoping to be out shooting (the ultimate present for me), but it is today that is the real celebration day.  Two years ago today I had my life changing moment; my epiphany, my realization, my shot of clarity.

            March 8^th, 2008.  It was a perfect Saturday afternoon in South Lake Tahoe.  I was relaxing in front of the gas stove in my cozy studio apartment after a blissful powder day with friends.  I was sipping a mug of hot tea and was completely content with the day and with my life in general.  I was pretty busy smiling from ear to ear when my stomach hit the floor.  I felt terrible and even a bit panicked.  My elation had turned into near depression and the toughest part was that deep down I knew why.

            The same reasons for my happiness were actually the root of my despair.  I realized that I was comfortable.  I was sitting in that grey area between doing something and talking about doing something.  I had moved to South Lake Tahoe to work, learn and grow, but now it was time to make a decision.  I could keep living a fun, enjoyable and stable existence or change everything and challenge myself to move forward into the unknown.  My sinking feeling came from within because I knew which choice I would make.

            Three days later I called my Dad and gave him the news: I needed to move on.  He was proud of where I was in life and I was afraid he would think I was spoiling a really good thing.  I kept waiting for the sound of disappointment in his voice, but he just took it in, thought about it and replied, “Okay, so where do we go from here?”  Shocked and stuttering, I hit him with the second, and most outrageous, aspect of my plan: I would move into a van.

Over the course of the next month and a half, I quit my jobs (photographer at local newspapers and Digital Asset Manager in another adventure photographer’s office), sold my car, moved out of my apartment and flew down to Ventura, CA to shakily hand over a check to my future.  It was a future on wheels and my ticket to adventure, freedom and above all else, my own career path.

It was by far the scariest move I have ever made, but looking back on my life and work since then, I know it was the best thing I could have done.  I am busier, happier and working harder than ever.  Ideas have become realities and previously distant thoughts are now on the calendar.  I am pitching stories, earning assignments and talking about projects far down the road.  This is it.  This is what I was envisioning two years ago on this day and I just can’t explain how powerful that is for me.

I want to thank my family and friends for their support from the start.  I know there must have been a point (maybe there still is) where you were all thinking, “Oh no, what is he getting himself into?”  You didn’t want to see me struggle or face more hardships. You were wondering when enough is enough, and whether or not this might be the right time to intervene, but nobody expressed any of this.

Instead of showing me fear and doubt, you all gave me encouragement. It sounded crazy on paper, but those who know me saw beyond the black and white description.  You saw a defining moment in my life and I know you were all scared because of the decision you knew I would make.  All I can say is thanks for sticking by me.  You may never know how much it really means to me.

            So on this anniversary, I want to send my greatest appreciation to all of those who supported me from the beginning and who support me today.  To my loving parents, siblings, relatives, friends and perfect strangers, I would not be here without you.  Thank you.

            Today is a special day.

***Sorry there are no photos in this post, but I wanted it to be more about the words.  If you would like to check out a few new images, just click on the “Latest Photos” block on the Homepage or “Latest” in the Portfolio Menu.***

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.)

(The new "office" and old windsurfing van / home for a few weeks.)

The return to van living.  My last update left you all with images and tales of living a life of comfort on a cush sailboat in Honolulu, HI.  I even named warm weather as my toughest adversary.  It was pretty hot, but honestly, that is weak sauce.  I deserved any amount of razzing and “tough life” comments that came my way after that one.  The truth is, I actually WAS pretty comfortable, and that was my toughest adversary.

Sounds crazy, and might even insight more razzing, but let me explain.

The feelings of routine comfort and I have never really see eye to eye, and probably never will. Routine is something I have tried to step away from for as long as I can remember, and as nice as it is to have somewhere to be and somewhere to go back to, I find it keeps me from the world I work so hard to be a part of.  The world of random happenings, chance meetings with great people and the beauty and power of the unexpected.  That is the world I love, and there is nothing I won’t do to stay in it, making photos.

So I did what any sane person would do when they have it made.  I left.  I jumped ship, flew over to Maui and moved into an “old windsurfing van.” It is more stalker-ish and creepy than anything I have ever been associated with, but I love it.  The second I moved in, I felt instant freedom.  Freedom to go wherever, whenever with no concerns for planning around any one place I have to be.

No qualms with the sailboat or with my brother, I just needed to be mobile again. After all, it is all I know.

On another note, Maui has been great.  I have connected with a few great people here and have enjoyed some of that unexpected.  I have had beers with local fisherman on a rock for an evening, been pounded in the surf while shooting one great waveskier, almost kiteboarded my way back to Oahu, slept in houses and on driveways and beaches, had an in-depth paddling conversation, eaten sand-blown chicken wings, listened to an amazing Ukulele player, laughed with new friends and welcomed an old buddy into the Maui van life for a few weeks.

It’s all part of the beauty, as long as you leave yourself open to it.  Change is scary, and so is the unknown, but the fear of not photographing and experiencing everything I can plays heavier on me than the thought of changing my entire situation.  Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s all I know, and I love it!

(Tom Albritton throwing down on his skimboard at Sandy's Beach.)

(Waveskier Tyler Lausten watching the surf in Paia Bay.)

(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.)