Freedom and the Great American Road Trip

Before flying off on my European adventure a couple of years ago, I sold most of my possessions, including my car. Well, all great adventures eventually come to an end, and when I returned home—halfway through autumn 2015—I had to find alternative forms of transportation until I could afford to buy another vehicle.

I moved into a downtown Bellingham apartment, so I walked a lot. I finally figured out the bus schedule and took buses to all those far flung places my feet couldn’t carry me. My friend, Pam, lent me her Toyota Matrix during the worst part of the winter so I could get to work and school. I got by. Even so, I ended up feeling like a prisoner within the borders of my hometown without my own car.

Most places in Europe have amazing public transportation systems, and it isn’t unusual to go without a car if you live in a big city. And even if you want to travel across the country there’s probably a bus or train that goes there, so it’s not a big deal. In the United States, however, (unless you’re within a major metropolitan area like L.A., New York City, Seattle, etc.) public transportation isn’t the greatest. Americans are very spread out, and not having a car can be a huge disadvantage. I think for that reason, many Americans look at their driver’s licenses as not only proof of their personal identity, but an expression of their cultural identity—that we are a free people who can go where we want, when we want, without many restrictions.

And I wanted to live without restrictions. I wanted to wend Chuckanut Drive’s narrow curves and take in the view of the San Juan Islands at sunset. I wanted to drive out Highway 20 to Mount Baker or to Whidbey Island to visit friends or hell, just meet a friend at a moment’s notice on the other side of town without having to wait for the next bus or for someone to pick me up. So, seven months after my initial foray into public transportation, I bought a new car.

Seeing the odometer at zero (or, close to it–I think it read 11 miles when I took it out for a test drive) sent a twinge of excitement through my belly. I had my freedom back, and I wanted to hit the open road and go somewhere. So, at the end of the summer, I went on a road trip from Bellingham, Washington to Buena Vista, Colorado to visit family. I tossed my camera onto the passenger seat, rolled down the windows, and drove away. There’s nothing like a great American road trip. Nothing. You see so many things you’d miss on a train, plane, or bus. I may never go carless again!

Here are some photos from last year’s freedom ride (click to enlarge or view slideshow). I would love to take another road trip someday. What are some of your favorite routes?

 

The Mystery Remains

If I open the door and step inside, all of the mystery will be over.   I’ll know the darkness hides only a lawnmower, broken chairs, and discarded motor oil containers.  If I remain outside, I can continue to imagine more interesting possibilities: 50 year-old calendars of faded pin-up girls, stacks of dusty books, or maybe coins scattered across a work bench.  Forgotten things, not discarded things.

Not every door needs to be opened.

Urban Backdrops

While driving through my hometown with my youngest brother last week, I spotted a red wall glowing in the afternoon sun.    This turned out to be the perfect backdrop for several of his wedding photos.  (Nevermind it was on the side of a bar.)  We had been en route to a different location for his photos, but this deserved a quick stop.  By the time I returned with the bride a couple of hours later, the sun wasn’t shining on it anymore, but the color was still a good contrast with her flowers and dress.  

I love these urban backdrops.  They’re different and fun and work well with portraits when I’m looking for something unique.   I’m also including a couple of examples of portraits taken in Washington.

Anthony in Glenwood, Minnesota
Jenina in Glenwood, Minnesota
Jen in Leavenworth, Washington
Matt in Port Townsend, Washington

Thoughts on Love

 

Love is an explosion of life and beautiful expectation. Every second is quiet rapture. 

The wrong person can elicit feelings of trepidation.  While it’s good to take chances, not every threshold is meant to be crossed.

There are some people I’ll love my whole life, no matter how many years pass and no matter what rises and falls around me.  Every time I hear their voice the years crumble, and I find myself living in yesterday.

Living in the Pacific Northwest

As I walked away from breakfast yesterday morning, hot coffee cup warming my hands, camera bag on my back, and raindrops collecting on my eyelashes, I smiled.   To live happily in the Pacific Northwest, one must learn to accept the ever-present clouds and look for something beautiful to photograph on all of those gray days. 

The quick trip I made to Port Townsend this weekend for my friend Erica’s birthday not only afforded a few snapshots, but a few chance meetings and new discoveries.  It was a great weekend.  And because I need to save my energy for the two American Lit papers I still need to write today, I’ll stop here and just show you the pictures….

Eagle sighting distracted me, and I missed my ferry by five minutes. I was actually okay with that!

  

A little red on the gray-blue horizon
A glimpse of a lighthouse behind a colorful hillside
A little bit of color along the road
At Fort Worden State Park

 

Rust, peeling paint, and a shallow DOF...this is what I love!

SOLD

SOLD.  It must be one of the best words in the English language.  SOLD means someone liked one of my framed photos enough to actually buy it.  SOLD means profit.   SOLD equals success. 

When I pulled the card out of my jacket pocket this afternoon, I felt satisfied.   I may never get rich doing anything I love, but the small successes give me enough joy to make it worth it. 

Anyway, my photos are no longer being displayed at Harris Avenue Cafe.  They are now back at Tony’s Coffee…and still for sale!

The photo that SOLD!