Most people that know me will tell you that I can’t go very long before the urge to leave the city and get to nature becomes over whelming for me. The feeling is kind of like someone has a pillow over my face. I want to get out that bad.

Without trips like these I wouldn’t have become the type of photographer I am today. And certainly not the person I am today. One of the great things about being a photographer is that you can pretty much do it anywhere. So this month I took advantage of modern technology and took my ‘office’ to Tahoe.

I arrived in the afternoon and went to take a run just as the sun was setting on the lake.

The air smelled of cedar and spruce and the light filtered through the trees.

The next morning I scoped out a few cafes with wifi where I could work. Full signal and friendly staff are prerequisites when on the road. I spread out at this place several days. I spent so long here they could have charged me rent.

When the full moon rose above my campsite on the 5th night it lit everything up. I’d test shot it every night and was ready for the final show.

A few days into it and the storm that was forecast finally came as I was heading to Lovers Leap a favorite climbing spot to go shoot and climb with friends. By the time I arrived in the parking lot the rain was coming down steadily. But Jake my faithful climbing partner wouldn’t dream of letting something like rain dampen his spirits as we stood and drank our wine out of tin cups. All while strolling along the route of the old pony express trail and pondering the 600 ft walls that we would climb for the next few days.

I love people with a lust for life and a desire to do things that push one outside their comfort zone. Jake is one of those people. From a little town that you might have heard of called Woodstock he has been climbing for probably 25 years. No other person has convinced me more times than anyone else that I can do something on a wall of rock hundreds of feet up in the air when I am steadfast sure I cannot.  When I’m in that place where I can’t figure the move and it looms over me like a giant and I can’t go down, the only way to go being up. Up and over what seems like an utterly impossible move. Times like this Jake has uttered some seriously convincing words.

But really the only one who can physically get you there is yourself. Which is why when I stand at the top of a climb and I have my feet planted firmly on solid ground again, what I just accomplished makes life’s challenges on the ground seem like small fry.

When you have become so zoned in on nothing but a piece of rock in front of you with your whole body, mind and senses it is has an uncanny ability of making you feel very much alive. Not forgetting to mention the fact that you’re highly aware of your own mortality as the wind whistles in your ears as you balance there. So I take it all in afterwards, thankful for the accomplishment and my safe arrival.

After hanging out with Jake at the Leap I headed back to west Tahoe to do a hike in the Desolation Wilderness which is right out my ‘backdoor’. I’ve spent many weeks in the Desolations Wilderness over the years and whilst it can be crowded (the most visited wilderness in America) and solitude alludes you sometimes, it is nevertheless beautiful. Miles and miles of trials where if you pick the right one(the PCT) you could go all the way north to Canada or south to Mexico.

In one day I hiked 14 miles roundtrip up into the wilderness behind my campsite. I made the mistake of leaving camp with the wrong shoes on and by the time I got back I had a raw blister on the sole of each foot about the size of a quarter. How I managed to do this after years of experience I will never know. In hindsight I should have photographed my feet to show you just what kind of  state they were in.  However as I marched along uttering expletives to myself and my own stupidity this was some of the scenery I was greeted with.

I had reached my half way point at Fontanillis Lake when I bump into a couple arguing in the middle of nowhere with what appeared to be their 12 year old son stuck in the middle of them. The anger and bad energy exchanged during those moments seemed wholly out of context in what I was surrounded by. I felt sorry for her as the tears rolled down her face and her partner stood mute perhaps guilty for making his wife cry.  Love can hurt but it can hurt even more when you’ve lost yourself in it. And she was definitely lost in it.  My thoughts were hey look on the bright side lady, if you’re going to be sad at least you’re looking at this.

And the only person casting a shadow on my scene was myself.

You could be forgiven for thinking I was in the pages of a Grimm brothers tale.

I wasn’t. Just somewhere equally as enchanting. And like a storybook lying on your bedroom floor, you can pick it up, take a look, maybe be inspired enough by the story told within. Or. You can turn around and go to sleep.