So I’ve had it for over a year and my sole purpose in purchasing it was for one specific thing – the camera. I’ve used it a few times, but it yielded mediocre results at best. When I say “I’ve used it a few times” I mean I’ve shot for clients with it a few times. I take photos with it almost every day, but video…?
The single most important feature, at least for me, has been lying dormant for over a year now.
Time to release its full potential. I’m reinvigorated!
Visiting the US national parks is like stepping into the country’s soul—each one a living postcard of breathtaking beauty. From the mist rising over the Grand Canyon at sunrise to the ancient time gone by that makes us ponder what, or who, used to be here, the parks remind us that the greatest treasures aren’t man-made but carved by time, wind, and water. Whether you’re hiking a rugged trail, stargazing under skies away from any light pollution, or simply sitting still to let nature’s soundtrack consume you, the experience is a humbling reminder of the vast and varied beauty this country has to offer.
There’s one park, however, that has no business being a national park. Take a guess.
Yes, I know. Buc-ee’s is coming. I have mixed feelings about this. Please, please, please hear me out.
On the one hand, I like Buc-ee’s. I’m not bashing Buc-ee’s. On the other? I know what happened here. There’s a very specific reason that Friedens Church Road (the main road leading to I-81) is the way it is. It’s the 4-lane road that goes from left to right in the image. If you grew up near here (long enough ago, that is) you may also know what happened here. More in a sec…
If you’ve traveled up and down 81 near this exit (240 if you didn’t know), you may have just zipped right by it without a second thought. There’s not much here – at least, there wasn’t much here. I’m about to sound like that old guy who reminisces about days gone by, but most, if not all, of the developments you see in this image didn’t exist when I was growing up here back in the 70’s, 80’s and even into the 90’s. For those of you waiting for it – “farmland as far as the eye could see.” There. Happy?
I grew up less than 4 miles to the west of this location in a town that literally had one stop light. Geez, I sound old. Well…. I’ve seen the area grow. Enough said. Sure the infrastructure has grown along with it, to a certain degree. Back to the road. You see that little road at the bottom of the image with the small bridge that abruptly stops right before the big gas station in the middle of the image? That’s the road I remember. That’s the little, barely two-lane road, that I drove to get to and from I-81 in high school. That’s the little curvy country road with lots of blind spots where the accident happened.
I’m not getting into any kind of details here – that’s not what this is. Just know this, the infrastructure may have changed to accommodate all the expansions, but new and bigger expansions are about to make their mark and this area will be forever changed because of it. In good ways and in not so good ways. The area will definitely see a growth in job opportunities, tourism, etc. That’s great for the area. It’s also going to see its fair share of traffic congestion and everything that goes along with it. I’m glad I don’t live nearby anymore, but I’m now concerned about my 83-year old mother who still lives less than 4 miles from this location.
I want to believe that it’ll settle down at some point, but have you been to Buc-ee’s? IYKYK. So, if you’re one of those folks who can’t wait for this location to officially open, please be careful. Be patient.
Oh, and hey, pick up some sea salted caramel beaver nuggets (it’s the blue bag) – my personal favorite!
So this is where we are now.
I’ve waited a very long time to start using it. I think it’s unavoidable. It definitely has its appropriate uses, but can easily be overused. Or misused. Overdone. You fill in the blank according to your own opinions. It definitely changes the landscape of what to believe .
It really is an evolving time where there’s so much information available. What’s real? What’s not? What do we believe. We need to be mindful of our own beliefs and opinions and get back to a time where we’re truly connected and not simply keyboard warriors. Oh, the irony.
I’ll use it. I’ll evolve. In moderation.
Quiet streets hum low,
familiar paths call me back,
my heart walks them still.
Will definitely miss this place when we move on.
I’m conflicted.
After a 24-day RV roadtrip out west, so many sights, so many miles and so many national parks & monuments, I have so many thoughts swirling around in my tiny brain. I don’t even think I can make sense of it all. It’s overwhelming to say the least. But I’ll try. Here we go…
Simply put, this country of ours is incredible. Everybody should experience it at some point in their lives. And I’m not talking about flying to different places and seeing things. I’m talking about driving it and REALLY seeing things. See the transitions that happen as you drive from East to West (or whichever direction you’re heading). You just can’t see those transitions from 30,000 feet. It’s fascinating to see the transitions. In our case it was from Virginia to Montana. Population changes. Vegetation changes. Geography changes. Climate changes. I know I’m leaving things out, but you get the idea.
I learned it in Boy Scouts and adhere to it still. “Leave it better than you found it.” “Leave no trace.” I do my part, but sometimes it’s difficult and here’s where it gets conflicting for me. I had the opportunity to sit, just sit, and experience a national park without many distractions at all. It was simultaneously exhilarating and eerie. The vastness was overwhelming and the sheer quietness was haunting. I sat for 4 minutes. It felt like an eternity. We’re all are so wrapped up in our everyday business, to-do lists, errands, traffic, job responsibilities, family life, etc., etc. Sometimes we need to refocus. Re-center. It’s tough to find the time to just sit and do nothing, think of nothing. It’s even harder to find as remote a place as I did to just sit.
But I found the time. I found the place.
I was overcome by emotion. I immediately thought of my grandmother. This place spoke to me. Maybe she was with me. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I felt at peace. Yeah, cheesy I know, but that’s the only way I can describe it. The sight was incredible and the sound was incredible.
The juxtaposition of death and life in the same image was just fascinating. I was disappointed. Not because I drove all this way and it looked like this – not even remotely the reason. I was disappointed because it looked like this at all. Whether I was there or not is irrelevant – I just happened to actually see it.
Forest fires happen all the time, we know this. And all sorts of factors contribute to them. But there’s one factor that we have total control over. Yep, the human element. It saddens me to think that the vast majority of wildfires in the United States are caused by humans. I’m disappointed in us. And yes, I include myself in that “us.” I’m conflicted because I know I can do better. I’m overwhelmed because I realize my part is only the tiniest fraction of a contribution. I’m more committed now than I ever was. I saw it – firsthand.
We all contribute, but we all have the capacity to help. It can just sometimes be discouraging when you open your eyes in the moment and see what you see.
My home has windows on both the east and west sides, big windows. The kind of windows that allow me to see what’s happening outside (in terms of weather) fairly well. I really enjoy seeing the brilliant colors of sunset and sunrises and most often just experience it. No photos. No scrambling to get gear from the office. Frequently, it’s because I’ll most definitely miss the moment. By the time I grab the correct equipment for the current scene, it’s gone. And not only have I missed the moment (photo op), I’ve also missed the moment. Does that make sense?
But this time…this time. I don’t know what it was that compelled me to scramble and grab my gear. I’m glad I did. I think it waited for me.
Yep, that’s me. I’m one of those people now. Some had already pegged me as one, but I refused to accept it. I just might have developed a problem.
There’s no real way to describe the feeling. It really is euphoric for whatever reason. I can’t explain it, but I’ve now experienced it twice and I want more.
Yeah, I have it bad.
No, I don’t need an intervention, but I HAVE already started planning for the next big one. I’m not really a “world traveler,” but I might just have to be.
After the 2017 event, I wrote my future self some notes. Here we go again:
That’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now. I had all but given up on seeing anything at all. I was beaten. Dejected. I planned for years. I saved – for years. I went over it and over it in my brain. But the weather wasn’t looking promising at all.
Cut to this morning. I woke up determined. I wasn’t about to let this go. I can’t have come all this way and not control what I can control. What’s the last part of the saying again? Ah yes, there is no TRY.
I’m doing this.
I did this.
So much more to come, but here’s a start.
I had to go back and read my post from 2017. Like I said back then, the beauty of an online “journal.” Glad I sent my future self notes. I made it. I am now my future self (at least from the perspective of that post).
Heading to Texas next week for a second shot at it. I’ve never posted my photos from that day. Not good. I definitely experienced the phenomenon of the total solar eclipse and get to do it all again in just over a week.
So much has changed since then and I’m going into this one prepared. Gonna make my past self proud.
Twice in a lifetime – here I come!
Life certainly has its methods of getting in the way these days. For me, these last 6-7 months presented an opportunity to be, once again, involved in a long-form, documentary style production. I’m pretty proud of how it turned out and the response it received during its public premiere.
I learned so much during the process and met some really great people along the way. I certainly didn’t want Black History Month to slip away without sharing this documentary that I shot and produced. This is the brainchild of Fay Stump of the Martinsburg, WV chapter of the NAACP. This story was crafted with her vision and guidance over the better part of a year.
Let’s keep the story moving.
“The time is always right to do what is right.”
– Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. minister and civil rights activist
I was never good at keeping up with all the various “national days” like national hot dog day, or national ride your bike to work day (which would kill me – IYKYK), but this just throws everything out of whack.
What season is it?!
Which holiday?!
WAIT!! I haven’t even had my first pumpkin spice latte yet!!
Is Thanksgiving the new “Bruno?”
Yesterday was quite an emotional day for many reasons. My first Everesting attempt did not go as planned. Yes, I said first. It’s not completely off the table, but I’m also not fired up to go again any time soon. Maybe. Some day. But now I have to move on.
It was NOT a failure. I have to be clear about that. It was an unsuccessful attempt. My day succeeded in so many ways specifically centered on memorializing my father. It was his day. I clawed my way up and out. Up the climb and out of my internal retreat. The physical demand was just too much. My body slowly rejected what I was demanding of it. My mental state began deteriorating. I’ve always heard about the phenomenon, but this was the first time I’d experienced it. I started to, essentially, fall asleep on the bike. I couldn’t string together words to form a coherent sentence. I was retaining the fluids and foods I was eating. I stumbled when I got off the bike. It became difficult to stand and my position on the bike made me nauseated. It was clearly a “no-win” situation. At about the halfway point, it became all to clear that what remained was unattainable in my current state. And since the rules clearly state that I couldn’t sleep, I had to make the difficult decision to stop.
I don’t know if I can point to any one thing as the weak link. Would I have avoided using pickle juice for the first time? Yes. Would I have installed more appropriate gearing on the bike? Yes. Would I have gotten more sleep? Fueled my body better? Trained more or better? Yes. Yes. And yes. Would any of that changed the outcome? Doubt it. It would have just delayed the inevitable. I’m a sprinter. Always have been. Always will be. Climbing is not my wheelhouse. So for me to even have attempted this challenge was enormous. So for all those asking the question – how do I feel today? All good. All systems normal. My legs don’t hurt any more than they would after a hard training session. And I lost 5 pounds so there’s that. Gotta market that, huh? Climb the Alpe, lose a pound.
I had so much support, which was overwhelming. Thank you to all who donated to the cause and more importantly (at least for me), a HUGE thank you to those who joined me on my challenge or who were planning on joining me. I truly tested my support system yesterday and every one of you came through. So I say a HUGE thank you. I appreciate you all.
All told, here are the stats from yesterday:
I know I set this up as a photography blog, but for some time now I’ve been off kilter. Specifically since August 10th of last year. Why August 10th? That’s the day my dad died. Dementia took him. It was horrible to watch.
Everybody deals with grief differently. I know this. I never realized it would affect me this way. Up until his health began to decline I was active. I was motivated. I was doing. Since? meh. It’s had a profound effect on me. I’ve found myself retreating to my own corner of the world. I feel like I’ve alienated myself. I’m unmotivated. I’m going through the motions. I’m phoning it in as they say.
I hear of so many people who have a close bond to a parent. A mom. A dad. A grandparent. An uncle or aunt even. A really tight bond. Best friends, some would say. I don’t think I had that with my dad. Or at least I didn’t think I did. Don’t get me wrong, the relationship I had wasn’t contemptuous or distant. Just not buddy buddy. My dad just wasn’t that type of person anyway. But I find myself missing the various interactions we DID have. I miss being able to talk with him and teach him about the Tour de France. I miss being able to tell and show him the new installs on the RV or the latest gadget I discovered. I miss the quirky way he always answered our weekly Sunday phone calls. I just miss him.
When he died, I told him that I would honor him in some way. I vowed that, in 2023, I would do something, anything, to memorialize his struggle. On June 21st. the longest day of the year, I will do just that. I’m going to push myself physically and mentally harder than I’ve ever pushed myself before. My dad struggled for months. I can struggle for one day.
I’ll be vEveresting beginning at 4am on June 21st. I’ll be riding my bike on my indoor trainer and climbing the equivalent of Mt. Everest in a single activity. 8,848 meters. That’s 5.5 miles of going up. It WILL take me the better part of the longest day to complete. The official Everesting website has me completing it in about 15 hours – only an estimate.
I’m by no means the first to attempt/accomplish this and will not be the last. I’ve known about this challenge for years now, but have never had the interest in completing it. Until now. You see, the Alzheimer’s Association has “adopted” the longest day of the year as their day of fighting for this terrible disease – “The day with the most light is the day we fight®.”
Yes, it’s a fundraiser, but I’m doing this for a couple reasons. Mainly, my dad. Secondly, I think I need to push through this wall I’ve created and come back. Back to work. Back to the world. Back to myself. You can certainly donate at any time, but more importantly, at least for me, join me. Join me in the fight. Join me on the ride itself. If you’re on Zwift, find me, follow me, ride with me.
I’m not great at fundraising. I’ll let the Alzheimer’s Association handle that part. But you CAN donate if you’re so moved. I’m simply going to ride.
I’m in a funk. Plain and simple.
Funk.
It was this lengthy blog post where I overthought everything and went on and on about stuff that you don’t care about. I don’t really care about.
Cuz I’m in a funk.
July 30, 2020. It happened for the first time on 7/30/20. 11 times since. Ask me. I’ll show you. SVT. Flutter. Afib. Call it whatever you will. It all sucks.
A lot’s happened in a few years.
Energy is lower. Motivation is lower. Morale is lower. Funk.
I have a cardiac ablation this week. Friday – of all days. Puzzle complete. Connect the dots yet?
I hope I never have to give up cycling. That’ll be funk on steroids.
Let me paint the picture for you…
I’ve been in a lot of homes – it’s a big part of what I do. Some big homes, some small homes. Some nice homes, some…not-so-nice homes. Some homes right next door, some homes…well a little further away. I wish all homes could be vacant – big ask, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I like the people I work with, but I really like when a house is vacant. I’m not rushed, I don’t feel like I’m imposing and I don’t have to worry about people being in any of my frames, no pets…you get it, right? Realtor informs me that this one will be vacant. Nice.
I’ve been to my fair share of remote properties, too. I’m constantly sending my wife a text with my location and the caption “Just in case.” It freaks her out. It sometimes freaks me out being there. I had no service so I couldn’t send her said text this go ‘round.
Where does this door lead off the bathroom and why is it…locked?
It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Even though the storm was coming, I could still hear the individual blades of dry grass crunching beneath my feet. SO LOUD! My tinnitis was driving me crazy. Or was that the huge bush of giant flying, stinging insects? Is that what a murder hornet looks like? Keep the doors unlocked so I can quickly get into the car if a bear comes out of the forest.
Alright, ENOUGH! I was in my head. Stop. It’s just a house. Like any other house. Just shoot it and be on your way.
My head was “on a swivel” when the occasional vehicle drove by. Yes, I thought, I’m supposed to be here. I’m working. Just keep shooting. Just keep shooting.
Got the exteriors done before the rain hit. Awesome. Switch gear. Move inside.
Stop looking behind yourself. There’s nobody there!
The main house is small. Two floors. A total of only eight rooms. Good lord, I hope there’s no basement. Go through and get a feel for the house. Lights on, blinds open. Geez there’s a lot of bulbs missing. Whew, no basement. Where does this door lead off the bathroom and why is it…locked? Attic? Hmmm, nope. Don’t need to shoot that.
The freezer’s running…WHY?!
The entire time I was inside the house, I had the spine-chilling feeling that I was being watched. Talk about my head being on a swivel! I wonder, did I check that closet?! The freezer’s running…WHY?! How long has this house been vacant? Where would they hide my body…?
STOP IT!!
I’ve been to much more remote places than this! Why here? Why this particular house out of all that I’ve been in?! This was that kind of farm house that you could be on the second floor and clearly see the person standing on the lawn looking up at you from the front yard. Don’t take your eyes off the scene because when you look back up you see the shadow disappear around the corner! Never look directly into the mirror. Don’t go investigate the odd sound you just heard!
Stop looking behind you – THERE’S NOBODY THERE!!!!
OMG – get out of my head!!!! STOP!!! I’ve seen too many horror movies. Just keep shooting.
Alright, last frame. Done.
Ah crap, I have to move back through and shoot the floor plan. I know the house now, this’ll be quick. Please be quick. Ok, snap a few frames of the front porch. Pack up, hurry. Just throw it all in the car.
Stop looking behind you – THERE’S NOBODY THERE!!!!
Ah, the safety of my car. Oh yeah, lock the doors. NOW DRIVE!
As I peeled out of the driveway, I swear I saw the nice family waving to me from the front porch…
For those who don’t know me personally, we just had one of the craziest RV rental experiences you can imagine. (more detail on this Facebook page). And had it not been for the owner’s accessibility and cooperation, it would have much much worse. It was a pretty bad experience, but the owner’s response to the whole situation made it at least bearable.
Early on in my career as a commercial producer, I learned how to lead a creative meeting with a new client and what questions to pose to get at the information I needed to mold together their message. One of the biggest guiding principles of those meetings purposefully steered said clients away from talking about their customer service in an effort to get them to talk about actual services and products that were different and stood out and mattered to clients. Even as I type this, I’m thinking to myself “WHAT?!?!” The thinking, apparently, was to steer clear of obvious services that consumers should come to expect. Yes, all business have good customer service (or at least should). Now what do you do differently?
Customer service CAN matter. Customer service CAN be different. Customer service CAN stand out.
And it mattered big time with our recent RV rental.
Enough said, I highly recommend Scott at Dream RV Rentals, LLC in Taneytown, MD.
-maybe just don’t rent the Fleetwood Terra – 😉
Congratulations Handley class of 2021 – there’s no way you’ll forget this one!
Cedarmeade Studios 