A self portrait in the stripped-out shadow of Mount St. Helens.
A slice of life in the Washington Cascades: mountains, elk, heaven-sent convenience stores and "worship centres" masquerading as churches. After a long climb into the mountains from the east, I spent a day and two nights loitering around Randle and sleeping behind the local Methodist church, recharging for the ride to Mount St. Helens.
In southern B.C. I was so busy worrying about bears and cougars that I was caught totally off guard by the little guy pictured below, who (I think) is harmless. I found him near a campsite down by the Similkameen River (pictured above), and after we scared the living daylights out of one another I groaned with dismay as I watched him slither into the bush where I’d left my bike.
A couple of years after I took this photo, I ended up living in a different Pacific Northwest city, and there’s something about this image that captures the region for me: a kelpy ocean bounded by islands and mountains, an population squeezing as much outdoors time in before the big dark descends, the comings and goings of tankers headed around the world. I took this shot and felt ready to mount my bicycle and start the adventure.
During a February week, everyone living between the western slopes of the Cascade Mountains and the Pacific Ocean chased snow across the weather forecast. We were like the survivor of a plane crash in the Gobi Desert tottering after a lake receding into the horizon. We were like an old, arthritic dog wagging its tail… Continue reading For One Weekend Only: Snow in Seattle