Adventure Photography and Writing
Lessons from the Out-There.
Lessons from the Out-There.
There’s no sound breaking the cool air but the soft crunch of boots punching into the snow and the quiet ring made by an ice axe plunging ever upwards. Thousands of stars have emerged as the full moon set beyond the horizon, and their secret immensity laughs a friendly laugh at the massive mountain’s flanks. The dome of sky crowns a world that nearly swallows a pair of climbers who trace an improbable path through towers of ice, living in the softly glowing circles made by their headlamps. Each, were it not for the other, might be overcome by the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that guard the realization of their ambition. Instead, the two rise gradually, a pair of brothers, above the world sleeping softly below.
Two parallel lines weave through a dampened landscape, moving as water would along gravity’s most forgiving path. The relief of the forest has been rounded by a rich winter, and all harsh edges have been buttered into rounded tufts and gently flowing curves. The lines track through the landscape, telling a subtle story about their creation: here they draw a contour around a hillside, and there they weave amongst thin aspens gently shedding their snow, each swerve one choice among thousands. A soft hiss moves rhythmically through hushed glades as a lone traveler draws lines across the snow that will be erased by tomorrow’s storm. This world asks nothing of him but what he wants to give, a restful blessing. The land begins to level in front of him, and gradually flattens, until he too ceases to move and looks out into the whiteness. With a few quick rips and folds, he ceases to gain and prepares to understand loss (for once, the joy that it brings). Then, with a swift kick, he falls away into a rushing silence.
The following is a selection of photographs fom the field, taken over the last several years. For more work see [flickr.com/photos/gonemonk]
