road trip
I throw a few things in the car and head to the northern coast of Spain, where not only I get some relief from the intense heat but I also get to make some beautiful images. It doesn't take much to do these things.
My photography road trip across the country comes to an end. In this last episode, I let the AI plot the route back home. I asked it to highlight some lesser-know spots along the way that I could photograph, and the results were... interesting.
I'm back on the road! I drive across the country and do some photography in places as distant from each other as Lake Michigan, Devils Tower in Wyoming, and the Salt Flats in Utah. I also show how I live on the road, why I do it this way, and why it has been so beneficial for my photography.
A couple of blocks from where I live, there’s a van built for the outdoors: rugged tires, gas canisters, solar panels... the whole package. I’ve seen the interior a few times as well, and it looks extremely nice. Everything is shiny and brand new.
The van has been sitting on the street since I moved here a year ago.
I’m sure it still has things that need work, but at some point, “it’s not ready yet” becomes an excuse.
Surely, a rig like that would make my photography road trips easier and more comfortable. I can’t afford it, though, so I make it happen with a $45 mattress and a big battery. I spent three months sleeping in my car in Norway, two months in Scotland, and have taken countless trips across the U.S. with that setup. Yes, it is challenging, even miserable at times, but the inconveniences fade over time. What’s left are the memories... and the images.
When I fall into the trap of over-preparation, it’s usually in areas of my life I’m less excited about. Procrastination becomes a way to avoid doing something I don’t really want to do. It’s easy to convince myself that one more thing needs to be done before I start.
But we need to ask ourselves: do we actually want to do it, or do we just like the idea of becoming that person who does things like these?
If we spend more time shopping for hiking gear than looking at maps -and actually hiking-, maybe we don’t love this activity as much as we think. Perhaps we just like imagining ourselves as hikers.
If we spend more time reading about cameras and lenses than exploring or looking for new subjects, maybe we don’t love taking photos as much as we think. Perhaps we just like the idea of being photographers.
The best way to know what we truly want is to start. Start small, with whatever you have now. Build momentum. Buy new gear as you need it, when your current equipment is really holding you back. Only by taking action do we discover what truly drives us, rather than chasing what others say should.
Back in 2017, I went on a 2-month photography road trip across the American Southwest. At the time, I was shooting film exclusively, so I stocked up: I bought 100 rolls of medium format Ilford HP5 film, and hit the road with everything I needed to shoot, develop and scan it all on the road.
I can feel it -- the weather is changing, the light is shifting, the mood is transforming. The best time of the year for photography is upon us.
The days are getting shorter, making it easier to catch both sunrise and sunset. The Sun now travels lower across the sky, creating a softer, more subtle, more beautiful light. Temperatures are finally pleasant.
Don't get me wrong, I had a terrific summer in San Francisco -- fun times filled with great photography on the streets of this beautiful city. But I am so ready to hit the road. Soon. Very, very soon.
The feeling is always there, some days I’m barely aware of it; other days, it almost hurts: the desire to hit the road again. And yet, there’s no place I’d rather be than San Francisco right now.
It feels strange. I haven’t been in a situation like this in years. My “normal” is to be always on the move, nowhere for too long. But I keep scanning the map and I find nothing: there’s nowhere I want to go*.
The summer doesn’t inspire me. The bright sun and the heat make me feel miserable most of the time. I much prefer those gray cloudy days, slow rainy afternoons, and the magical foggy mornings. And of those mornings, I’m getting plenty here.
I spent the last two summers in Norway and Scotland, grayscale times I cherish now. I want that, I need that. So I’m learning to work on the same spots over and over, trying to find what I failed to see before. And while my desire to go somewhere is still there, I’m starting to love it. A project is building up here, I think. We shall see.
Come around September, though, I’ll be more than ready to hit that open road again. Where to, it doesn’t matter.
* By car, that is. I guess I could always take a flight to somewhere exotic on the other side of the world, but you know, I can’t afford that.
I’ve talked about the scars of war before. How cameras and lenses are meant to be used rather than left on a shelf.
This belief of mine was put to the test during my latest road trip across the West. I got snow, heavy rain, intense winds, and storms. I shot along the coast, in the rainforest, in the high desert, amidst the red landscapes of Utah, and on sand dunes. It was exhilarating at times, frustrating at others.
Twice, I dropped my cameras.
The first incident happened at the Painted Hills in Oregon. My video camera (a7iv) took a bad fall while I was recording myself on a windy late afternoon. I was rushing everything and failed to properly secure the tripod.
My heart skipped a few beats when I turned around and saw the destruction. I feared I’d lost the camera. Fortunately, it was “just” the 17-28mm lens that broke on the mount.
Now, that lens lives in my a7iv as I use it all the time for my videos. So hastily, I purchased another copy (a used one) on eBay. It turns out that was another bad, rushed decision on my part. Because once I got home a few days later, I managed to put the “broken” lens back together, and it seems to work just fine! So now, I own two 17-28mm lenses.
That wasn’t the end of my gear related accidents, though. A couple of weeks later, in the Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado, I dropped my stills camera in the sand.
This was a rare accident. I don’t remember what I was doing with my video camera, but I thought that holding the a7riv between my legs was a good idea. I often do it without any trouble. However, this was a very, very windy day. I lost a bit of balance at some point and I instinctively tried to correct myself by shifting one of my legs, which made the camera fall into the sand. Thankfully, these cameras are well sealed and nothing bad happened. I cleaned it with the air blower, and that was it.
We are all one road trip older now -- my cameras and I. They bear new scars, and I probably grew some new gray hairs. We stumbled, we fell, but we stood back up. We are prepared for the next adventure. Unsure if any wiser than before, but certainly still strong enough.
I just sent the first newsletter in months, but it's a good one as it summarizes my recent road trip across Scotland and other parts of the UK. It includes links to all the videos and it comes with some of the best images I made.
I also updated this website's archive with those photos and even more, check it out here: scotland, england and wales.
I watched with interest the recent presentation of Apple's AR/VR headset, Vision Pro. I was hoping for a use case that wasn't playing games, watching TV, or pretending to be a legless avatar.
While Vision Pro seems to be a device geared towards consumption for the most part, I can see huge potential on the productive side of things as well.
I was very happy to see that the headset can work as a portable, private, and pretty big monitor to a Macbook. As someone who doesn't have a permanent home, much less an office, this can be a big deal for me. Especially when I'm on the road.
During photography road trips, I spend most nights in my car, where space is... well, very limited. I still haven't found a way to work on my computer for long periods of time that is comfortable and doesn't break my back.
An AR/VR headset could solve this problem. I can't wait for the day I can have a 27" virtual monitor (or two, or three) to work on Lightroom and Final Cut Pro in the back of my small SUV.
I'm still a bit skeptical (is the resolution of the headset going to be enough for this use case?), even more considering the price point of this thing, but I'm excited for a future where I could work from anywhere as comfortably as I would in a proper office.
This is it. I'm back home after spending the last 4 months driving across Europe, mostly Norway. An incredible journey I'll never forget.
There will be time for me to reflect on the trip, but as of right now, I'm feeling a bit empty inside. It will take some time adjusting to the new reality, like it did when I first hit the road back in August.
And then, once I get used to being at the same place, once I established a routine, it will be time to leave it all behind again. This is what I do. Where to? When? For how long? I have some ideas, but I will know when the time comes.
This is the end of this (short) period of my life. This is the beginning of a new one.
After 2+ months living on the road for photography, I have some thoughts.
My car has been my home for several weeks now. I sleep in the car, I eat in the car, I change my clothes in the car, I work in the car, I rest in the car, I cook in the car.
This is the easy and cheap "conversion" I did to my small SUV for a 3-month long road trip across Norway. Built and designed with photography in mind.
I'm on the road again. Big time, as I embark on a 2-month long adventure. My biggest road trip yet.
When I was looking for options to travel from California to the Midwest, one stood out: the train. I love trains, the route was absolutely gorgeous, and it was much cheaper than flying. What was the catch, then? Time.
This was a long trip, as we spent 56 hours on a train. If you add the almost 4 hours we waited at the train station, then the whole trip was a whopping 60 hours.
And yet, I'm so glad I did it. Something I will never forget.
I love road trips, especially photography road trips. Over the years, I got to go on quite a few across all the United States. These are a few tips, tricks, advice and some lessons I've learned over time.
After months comfortably spent at home, I’m finally back on the road. This trip will take me to amazing places, some new, some very familiar. Even though I’m really excited about what is to come, I’m also struggling. And this is a familiar feeling.
You see, this is a solo trip. I will be alone for the next month, even a bit longer, and that’s a drastic change from my boring routine. Today, for example, I didn’t talk to anyone. Not having service for most of the time doesn’t help the feeling of isolation, either.
Then there are the unknowns. Only uncertainty is certain.
The only way forward is to embrace whatever might come my way. But it can be hard at first, while I’m still breaking from my everyday habits and comforts.
In just 3 days, I’ve gone from camping in 85 degrees, surrounding by starving mosquitoes, to freezing temperatures, snow, and carrying bear spray wherever I go. I’ve already had to take the car to a repair shop. I’ve driven 2,000 miles across 6 states. I’ve seen bison, and mountain goats. Vast plains, jaw dropping peaks, and pristine lakes. And this is just the beginning!
I know I will have an amazing time (I am already), but shrugging off these uncomfortable feelings might take a few more days. Change is never easy. But, in most cases, it’s worth the fight.
This is the last video from the road trip. It documents the long drive back home, after 3 months on the road. Hairball was kind of falling apart, so that made the trip a bit... interesting. I hope you enjoy it.
Nothing lasts forever, and this trip wasn’t going to be an exception. I’m back in Indiana after 3 incredible months on the road, a time I spent trying to take it all in as much as I could. I don’t know when I’m going to have the chance to hit the road again, so I gave it all I had.
That means I pretty much put everything else on hold. Among other things, my exercise habits, this blog, and email.
I’m catching up now: I’ve started to exercise again, this post is the first of hopefully many to come here in the blog, and I’ve replied to a few emails that had been patiently waiting for a response for a while. I will be getting back to people on social networks soon, too. If you tried to contact me and I haven’t gotten back to you by the end of this week, please try again.
Being back is bittersweet: it’s great to be with family again, and having a routine makes me feel more energized and healthier. But I miss the road already, all the sunrises and sunsets I saw out west over those stunning landscapes.
As this part of my photography journey ends, the first snowstorms of the season here in the Midwest are already signaling the beginning of the next one. I can’t wait to take my cameras out once the white powder takes over these landscapes.
The Alvord Desert is one of my favorite spots in Oregon. A remote place in the vastness of SE Oregon, we first visited this place a few years ago during Thanksgiving. It was a trip I will never forget.
In this video, I remember that trip, and try to make new memories… and images. The weather didn’t cooperate as much as I’d have loved to, but we still had a great time.
