Some journeys end when you get home. Others become part of who you are.
Some roads stay with you long after the journey ends. A winter road through California's Eastern Sierra, where you never quite know what's waiting beyond the next rise.
There's something about a road trip that has always gotten to me.
Maybe it's the anticipation of heading somewhere I love. Or the possibility of discovering somewhere I've never been. Maybe it's simply getting behind the wheel, watching the familiar disappear in the rearview mirror, and knowing that for the next few days, I have absolutely no idea what I might encounter.
I love that feeling.
The camera gear is packed, the car is loaded, and somewhere ahead there's a mountain road, a stretch of coastline, or a little town I haven't explored yet.
And inevitably, there will be a moment when I'll have to pull over because the light is just too incredible to keep driving.
Those are some of my favorite moments.
But the older I get, the more I realize that the roads we travel aren't always just about where we're going.
Sometimes they're about where we've been.
And sometimes, they're about the people who taught us to love the journey in the first place.
Where It All Began
My love of road trips didn't happen by accident. In fact, it took years before I really cherished being in a vehicle for long periods of time.
It started with my parents.
Growing up, traveling was something we did together, and those adventures planted a seed that never really stopped growing.
My mom especially encouraged me to get out, explore, and see what was beyond the places I already knew.
This is where my love of photographing my journeys really began. Winter visits here with my mom were some of our favorite adventures together. I didn't know it then, but those snowy days would help inspire a lifetime of chasing beautiful places and capturing memories along the way.
I don't think she could have imagined just how many miles that encouragement would eventually lead me to travel.
Or how many times I would find myself standing beside a road somewhere, camera in hand, waiting for the light to do something extraordinary.
But here I am.
Still chasing those moments.
My mom passed away in 2019 after battling ALS, and there are times when I wish more than anything that I could share another road trip with her.
Tell her about an incredible sunrise. Show her a photograph I almost missed. Laugh about something ridiculous that happened along the way.
But in a way, I still take her with me.
Because every time I head out on another adventure, I'm continuing something she helped start.
And that's a pretty wonderful thing to carry down the road.
Some Places Just Keep Calling You Back
There are places I've photographed once and places I've returned to more times than I can count.
Big Sur is one of those places.
I can't explain exactly what it is about that stretch of California coastline, but it has a hold on me.
Maybe it's the rugged cliffs, the endless Pacific, or the way the ocean can go from peaceful to downright furious in a matter of moments.
Or maybe it's just how I feel when I'm there.
The drive along Highway 1 never gets old. Even when I know what's around the next bend, I still find myself looking forward to seeing it again.
Bixby Bridge, Big Sur, California. I've traveled this stretch of coastline more times than I can count, and somehow it never gets old. Some places have a way of pulling you back, no matter how many times you've been
And somehow, it's never quite the same.
The light changes. The weather changes. The waves change.
Sometimes the coastline is wrapped in fog. Other times, the sun breaks through the clouds and suddenly everything comes alive.
That's the beauty of returning to a place you love.
You might know the road, but you never really know what you're going to find.
The Mountains Have Their Own Way of Calling
The Eastern Sierra has that same effect on me.
There's something about heading north on Highway 395 and watching the mountains begin to rise alongside the road.
The landscape opens up, the towns get smaller, and before long, I can feel myself settling into a completely different rhythm.
In autumn, it's the golden aspens that pull me back.
In winter, it's the possibility of fresh snowfall turning an already beautiful landscape into something almost unrecognizable.
And sometimes it's simply the road itself.
A winding stretch of pavement disappearing toward the mountains.
A dirt road lined with golden trees.
The Road to North Lake, Eastern Sierra, California. No matter how many times I travel these mountain roads, that first glimpse of autumn gold still makes me want to pull over and grab my camera.
A familiar turnoff that leads to a lake I've photographed a dozen times, but somehow still feels like seeing it for the first time.
I've had trips where everything went according to plan.
And plenty where absolutely nothing did.
Unexpected storms. Roads covered in snow. Wind that seemed determined to blow every leaf off the trees before I could photograph them.
I've learned to laugh at some of it.
And I've learned never to leave my winter gear at home just because the forecast promises sunshine.
That was a lesson I won't be forgetting anytime soon.
But those unpredictable moments are part of what makes every trip memorable.
If everything always went according to plan, I think we'd miss an awful lot of the adventure.
It's Not Always About Getting There
I can't tell you how many times I've set out with a particular photograph in mind, only to come home with something completely different.
Sometimes I never even make it to the original destination when I thought I would.
Because I'll spot something along the road.
A beautiful patch of light moving across the mountains.
Storm clouds gathering over a valley.
A winding road surrounded by trees glowing in the afternoon sun.
And suddenly, whatever schedule I thought I had doesn't matter quite so much anymore.
I've pulled over for scenes that lasted only a few minutes.
I've waited for hours hoping the clouds would move.
And yes, I've packed up my camera thinking the show was over, only to watch the sky erupt with color and find myself scrambling to set everything up again.
Minaret Afterglow, Eastern Sierra, California. I thought the show was over and had already packed up my camera. Then the mountains lit up, and I found myself racing to get my tripod set up again. A pretty good reminder that sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them.
You'd think I'd know better by now.
Apparently, I'm still learning.
But I think that's one of the greatest things photography has given me.
A reason to pay attention.
To notice those little moments that are so easy to miss when we're focused on getting somewhere.
Sometimes the best part of the journey is the moment you weren't planning for.
The People Who Travel With Us
As much as I love photographing beautiful places, some of my most meaningful memories have very little to do with the photographs themselves.
They're about the conversations, the laughter, the shared experiences, and the people who were there.
My dad still shares in my adventures, and there's something incredibly special about continuing those journeys together.
The miles feel different when you're creating memories with someone you love.
Roseman Bridge, Iowa. One of those road trip memories I'll always treasure, exploring with my mom and niece. Looking back, it's moments like these that remind me the best part of any journey isn't always where you go, but who you share it with.
And when I think about my niece and all the adventures still waiting for her, I hope she'll carry that same love of exploring that my mom passed along to me. Maybe that's one of the greatest gifts we can give someone. The curiosity to get out there, take the scenic route, and see what might be waiting around the next bend.
The Miles We Carry With Us
Every now and then, I'll look through photographs from years ago and find myself transported right back to the moment I took them.
I remember the cold.
The wind.
The excitement of watching the light change.
Sometimes I can even remember what song was playing as I drove down the road that morning.
Yosemite Valley after a fresh snowfall. Some places never really leave you. One photograph can bring back the cold air, the quiet, and everything you felt standing there.
It's funny how a single photograph can bring all of that rushing back.
And that's probably why I love photography as much as I do.
It lets me hold on to little pieces of these adventures.
Not just the places themselves, but the feelings that came with being there.
Of course, not every trip produces an incredible photograph.
Some days the weather doesn't cooperate. Sometimes the wildlife never shows up. Sometimes I drive hundreds of miles and come home with very little to show for it.
At least, photographically speaking.
But I never really come home empty-handed.
There's always something.
A memory. A story. A place I want to revisit.
Or simply the satisfaction of having gone.
And as the years pass, I've come to realize just how much those experiences mean to me.
There's Always Another Road
I don't know how many more miles I'll travel or how many more sunrises I'll stand outside waiting for.
But I know I'm not finished exploring.
There are still roads I haven't driven, places I haven't discovered, and familiar destinations that keep pulling me back.
And there are still moments waiting out there that I can't possibly plan for.
I think about my mom sometimes when I'm heading down a beautiful stretch of road.
How much she loved getting out and seeing the world.
How grateful I am that she passed that love along to me.
And how something as simple as taking a road trip can become a part of who you are.
Maybe that's why certain roads stay with us.
Not because they're the most spectacular.
Not because they lead somewhere famous.
But because of the memories we made along the way, the people who shared them with us, and the little pieces of ourselves we discovered while traveling them.
And when I find myself packing the car for another adventure, I still get that familiar feeling.
That excitement of wondering what's out there.
What's around the next bend.
And what might be waiting when I get there.
Because some roads don't really have an ending. They just become part of the journey.
Life's an Adventure!