Approaching Storm #2
I had been contemplating the early pioneer photographers who had captured the vision of the West a hundred years ago—the raw and rugged vistas that extend for hundreds of miles.
As a tribute to those hardy, adventurous souls, I wished to capture the essence of their early historical works.
With my trusty, beat up truck I had been exploring possible locations for weeks. I had almost given up hope of finding the perfect location with the right lighting conditions.
I was on a backcountry trail that I had not been on before, just a dotted line on the map—it topped out at just under 12,000 ft.
As I was wrestling with the failing power steering of the truck, towards the zenith of the mountain trail, I had just crested the top when the power steering gave out.
I came to a shuddering halt and immediately fished out the toolbox.
Gasket sealant, hose clamps and luckily spare power steering fluid were located, and I went to work—the descent would be near impossible if I did not fix it.
The temperature was dropping. The clouds started to build up. A storm was approaching.
I was tightening the last screw on the clamp, when I glanced up at the sky, mesmerized I dropped the screwdriver and exchanged it for my camera . . .
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