The Impossible Project X Urban Outfitters X Yours Truly

A few months ago,  Urban Outfitters and The Impossible Project got in touch with me about being part of a show in their NYC Space.  As a child of the digital generation, especially with regards to photography, I have grown accustom to bracketing shots and filling up a few 16 gig flash cards on an outing.   I'm a firm believer in doing new things outside of one's habits, so I took them up on their offer. Equipped with a few hundred exposures of their 600 film and a few cameras, I documented two months on the road.   Shooting with film forced me to slow down and consider each shot more.  I really enjoyed it.  Here are a handful of the shots I picked for the show.

Morning sesh in Malibu, CA.

OG Landcruiser, Eastern Columbia River Gorge, WA.

Barbed Wire.

Rear view mirror.

Snow in Underwood, WA.

The Kern River, CA.

Tim reading in the back of the Syncro.

 #vanlife.

Shotgun in L.A.

The Klickitat River, Washington.

Wetsuits hanging to dry in Ventura, CA.

Deer.

A toilet cleaner, as John calls it, in L.A.

The show will be at The Impossible Project Space, 425 Broadway 5th Floor New York New York 10013, from December 15 to January 11, with an opening reception this Thursday.  I won't be making the schlep back to New York for it, but if you're in the area, stop by and have a look.  I'm really pumped to be a part of it.

Here are some more links, Impossible Project X Urban Outfitters,

A Restless Transplant (Facebook).

Southbound Again

Getting ready to hit the road always takes longer than planned.  Packing up, making last minute tweaks to the van, and saying the good bye put me half a day behind.  Due to the short days,  I decided to leave the next morning instead of driving 400 miles in the dark.  Waking up before dawn,  I scraped the frost off the windshield of the Syncro with a CD case,  took a swig of orange juice from the fridge and motored out of my mom's driveway.  Taking the 11 hour option over the nine and half direct shot on I-5,  I headed south on the east side of the Cascades through central Oregon and Northern California before crossing over through the Trinity Alps to the Humboldt Coast.  When in doubt, take the prettier route.

A month in the Northwest working on the manuscript for the Burning House book and enjoying Thanksgiving had made me stir crazy.  In addition to the angst that goes along with staying in any place for too long,  I missed California's warmer waters and longed to surf sans booties and gloves.  On December 1st,  I left Underwood, Washington and headed south towards Arcata, California on the northern Humboldt coast.  These photos are in chronological order, from a solid 11 hour day of driving.

Sunrise on Mt. Hood.

Blocked on Highway 26 heading down from Mt. Hood into central Oregon.

An abandoned house outside of Madras Oregon. Everything was frosty.

I'm always on the lookout for vans for #Vanlife,  I spotted this one in Madras.  Scooby Doo.

"Welcome to California,  any fruit or vegetables?"

Mt. Shasta from the north.

The sun set around 4:50 as I wound along Route 3 through the Trinity Alps.  True to its name,  the area feels worlds away from California.  Snaking through a small valley,  the two lane road made the Pacific Coastal Highway look straight.  Stopping to take a piss at a turnout, the last rays of sun bounced around the small valley.  "Just two more hours," I grinned to myself.  Hopping back into Syncro in shorts and barefoot,  I didn't need to crank the heater.  Change is good.

Here are some more links,

#Vanlife (Facebook),

Southbound Again (Picasa),

South Bound Again (Dire Straits).

Thanksgiving

I am very thankful to everyone that reads my blog, shares it with others and comments, but today should be spent off line. Enjoy the day with your family.  Go for a walk and take some photos.  Eat too much food and when it gets dark, break out the slide projector and look through some old frames.  That's how I'm planning to spend my day at least.  If you stumble across any photos of vans, you know where to send them.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Here are some more links,

A Restless Transplant (Facebook),

#vanlife.

First Snow

The front windshield was completely fogged, except for a pillow sized opening in the middle of the dash.  A wipe of my forearm exposed the winding gravel road for ten seconds before closing up.   Leaning forward, I peered through the gap in the fog.  Luckily,  the road was deserted and I steered the Syncro down middle of the road.  Thick snow flakes stuck to the window, melting after a few seconds.  I turned up the wipers.

"The defroster on this thing is a real gem." my brother said, cracking his window with the manual crank.

"Yahh yahhh, the fan nob is broken.  I gotta get it fixed."

As we marched up the mountain in second gear,  the snow dried out and the flakes shrunk.   Narrowly avoiding  the blunt nose of my Vanagon, they flew over and out of sight in some feat of aerodynamics known to a select few in Pasadena and Cambridge.  After seven miles on the gravel road,  we pulled over on the side of the road.

"This looks like the place."

"Have you ever been here before?"

"No but this is what it looked like on Google maps."

"Gotcha.."

We bundled up and headed out into the open field.

More so than any other weather event,  the arrival of snow  each year establishes the change of season.  Falling asleep one night in late fall , I woke up  the next morning squarely in winter to  a few inches of wet snow.  Loading into the Syncro that morning,  we headed up to the hills behind Mosier, Oregon in search of deeper snow and eager to enjoy the season's first snow.

#vanlife

A dirt trail up the hill and into the clouds.

Lucy, my mom's trusted companion. Full bred Irish Terrier, half breed pain in the ass.

Stopping to take a photo,  my mom and brother unsuspectingly walked ahead.  Four years of constant snow warfare in Maine taught me to always be vigilant.  Scraping snow off the ankle high grass,  I balled it into a lemon sized ball and waited.  I made up some of the distance between my brother and mom.  Sensing that something was wrong,  my mom's dog spun around and barked.   My brother followed suit, catching a snowball on the nose.

Here are some more links,

Post (Picasa),

Mosier, OR (Out of Reception),

Hood River, OR (Out of Reception),

A Restless Transplant (Facebook).