I was born in Idaho. And though I’ve lived in many places and seen a good bit of the world, anyone who has spent any time around me knows my panhandle roots. I grew up under cedar trees and on gravel roads, in a time and place in America that I’d give far to much to recreate.
You could still feel a palpable expansionist Western ideal in Idaho in the 80’s and 90’s. The Nez Pearce National Forest had 4 million acres of land to explore and if you paid your taxes, you owned it. That meant skis in the winter, bikes in the spring and fall, and swimming, rafting, and camping in the summer on the whispy tan sand beaches of the Clearwater River.
I picked up a camera at 11. And since then I’ve never gone anywhere without one. I don’t call myself a photographer, more a careful observer and someone who loves to tell a story.
Through my childhood and into college I couldn’t get enough time on a motorcycle, mountain bike, skateboard, skis and everything else action sport. I couldn’t shake the feeling that making a living in and around those sports was my calling. And so I made it so.