It’s a crisp fall day in 2019. Fallen leaves rustle as they’re blown across my lawn. I go through a final check of camp, surf, and camera gear that’s about to be organized in my 2015 Toyota 4Runner. This trip had been on my mind for two years and I was finally hitting the road, camping from Charleston, SC to California and everywhere in between.

I had a sense of what I wanted to capture and the stories I thought I wanted to tell, but I would have never guessed I would end up thousands of miles from home during a global pandemic.

The 4Runner was meticulously packed, every piece of gear perfectly situated. The plan was to see, shoot, and surf everything. I had a loose plan, lists of parks to visit, beaches to surf, but wanted to take each day as it came. I certainly didn’t thing everything would go perfectly. I fully anticipated cold nights, flat tires, bugs, traffic, hangovers, and closed roads.

Sure enough, about ten days into my cross country drive I found myself on the Apache trail in AZ. It was washed-out and I was unable to reach my intended dispersed camping spot.The thought of having to double back and stay at a developed RV campground I saw ten miles back demoralized the Kit Carson persona I had developed while listening to “Blood and Thunder”, but at least I’d get some sleep and push on in the morning. I pulled into the campground to find only one other camper in an RV. I parked on the other side of the grounds. After a quick meal, I set up my tent on the roof of the 4Runner, brushed my teeth, and climbed up my ladder to get some rest.

I was awakened 2 hours later. Footsteps in the gravel not more than 10 feet from where my head lay and one or two men muttering under their breath. I stayed still barely breathing so I could make out what was being said. Their boots crunched the rocks under their feet in the cold and damp Arizona night, ”Sex with kids, sex with kids. Have sex with kids, and go to hell. I won’t go to hell, I won’t go to hell.” Was this my deliverance moment? I grasped my knife and fully excepted the suspension of the car I was sleeping on to sag under the weight of these men climbing the ladder to the tent and for the zipper of my nylon fortified tent to slowly be peeled open. But it never came. I had not anticipated this. Zero service. I didn’t even have shoes in the tent. The plan was to wait until first light when I would breakdown camp as quickly as I could and get out of there. The next hours were painfully slow, but quiet. First light was just around the corner when I heard the footsteps approaching again. My stomach sank. The steps paced around the vehicle while the men spewed incoherent racial epithets. More about burning in hell and sex and just when I thought the situation was going to turn into a nightmare, they walked away. This was my chance, I climbed down from the tent, threw the gear in the back, and broke down the tent as quickly as I could. I was out of there! While exiting the camp I came up behind a man dressed in filthy pajamas, an eskimo hat perched loosely on his head, and a tooth brush hanging out of his mouth. This was the man? Almost more frightening than the hardened mountain men I had envisioned.

I had finally arrived in California and it was time to wash off the desert dust and surf. I linked up with some longtime friends, JP, Kook Mike, a few others. The next few weeks we surfed and drank our way between SB and SD. Our coastal campgrounds were littered with drying wetsuits with a constant open fire burning, and I loved it. Each day during morning coffee JP tracked this reoccurring, but still small story about a virus. It was discussed, but I didn’t put much thought into it. We were focused on getting waves and sitting under the stars. Why worry about the news? Eventually the boys packed up and one-by-one flew and drove home. My next stop was inland to explore and shoot. It was meant to be a three week solo mission until the next batch of travel companions arrived, including some of my family. To my surprise it turned into two months on the road alone.

Lockdowns and travel restrictions came cascading down across the nation and world while I was deep in the Mojave Desert, with very limited cell coverage depending on the day. I wasn’t tethered to a 24 hour news cycle like the rest of the world. My thoughts were consumed by how much water and fuel I had and where to position the 4Runner each night to block the howling winds. The severity of the coming pandemic was lost on me. I was trying to survive in my own right. When I emerged from the Mojave, I was stunned. Everyone’s flights were cancelled and I was marauded thousands of miles from home and family. Grocery stores were empty, I couldn’t get my hands on sanitizer or a mask no matter how many stores I went to. I figured I would surf, explore, and make the most of it. This worked for some time…

One day the severity of pandemic set in for me. I was threatened with a large fine for surfing and the town where I operated my business closed access to the beach where we operated. I was naive enough to think I could surf through the supposed two week lock down and return home in time for the start of the work season. Now I found myself being sternly asked to leave CA and in a fight or flight situation for my business and staff. I headed home that day.

The surf and adventure mindset had given way to serious concern for the health of my family and business. I spent the next 3 weeks on the road consumed by the unknown and the immense life questions that I was now confronted with. Now in constant contact with my brother, Reed, on the ground at home and other business owners we tried to decipher what this was going to mean for us. This three week period had some of the highs and lows of my lifetime. I camped, photographed, and explored some of the wildest places in the world without seeing more than a handful of other campers the entire time. It was stunning, raw, and immense, but along with it came too much time to think. The pure scale of theses places was only matched in stature by the looming question surrounding Covid-19. What does this mean? Will my family and friends be ok? Will my business survive? What does the new world look like? The hours of solitude on the road in these vast locations created the most deafening silence for me and took a toll on me mentally.

The surreal visuals and sounds in these magical places will stick with me for the rest of my life. It was sensory overload at times and the impact of what I was experiencing was occasionally lost on me as I scrambled to get shots and maximize the light. Every once in a while I would put the cameras away and would soak it all in. These were some of the best moments where I felt grateful to be experiencing such scale and beauty.

There was more than one occasion when I found myself running around the desert like a maniac trying to manufacture shots, but once I relaxed, I started capturing some of my best images. To this day, the best photo and drone clip I have ever gotten came driving down an empty highway in Nevada. The howling 20-30 mph winds kicked up great plumes of sand off in the distance. I spotted some movement to my left and saw two wild horses galloping across this rugged landscape. It was on! I sped up and gained some distance on them, set up the drone in record time, and I was off. I was able to intersect their path shooting video at first. As I got closer to the two horses I lowered my altitude and panned up slowly and captured a buttery shot while battling 25 mph winds and flying sideways at top speed. It was a beautiful moment captured in a chaotic environment and still brings me joy thinking about it. Run & Gun Baby. What’s even better, I was able to snap my favorite photo once I realized I had gotten the clip of the trip.

I didn’t fully understand how unique my situation was, at the time it felt far more precarious than anything. With each passing day I realize how unique and special this journey was. I credit this adventure in kickstarting the serious growth in me as a person and creator since and I would never trade this experience. It was a pivotal moment in my life and I’m proud of the work that came out of it. As corny as it sounds, my perspective on what is actually important shifted throughout this journey. Sharing simple moments with the important people in your life will top exploring some of the most beautiful places in the world by yourself. This made seeing my family and friends again a feeling that can’t be replaced.