Three days and three states, from a spooky mining town and hippy enclave to a fossil-filled river gorge.

It was lucky that we ran into Jan, because otherwise we wouldn’t have backtracked and spent the afternoon crawling through stalagmites hundreds of feet under Montana.

The latest video I worked on with The Goddamn Cobras. NSFW-ish.

I think any more weight from so many tourists might force the Yellowstone caldera down into the magma that powers all those geysers.

Capitol Reef is like a mini Zion. Not as tall, not as wide, but also fewer people to muck up the scenery.

It looks like Will and I had similar ambitions for the summer: to breathe some fresh air, rediscover open space, and set out on a wind-blowing-through-our-hair car adventure to explore our own Western United States.

The 1500-year-old Bristlecone Pine trees tumble into the slowly eroding limestone breaks at a pace measured in centuries.

It takes most people five hours to complete the five mile journey to the top of Angel’s Landing and back. I did it in half that and still took a bit of video now and then, while sucking in much-needed oxygen.

Will has been a bit busy with his trip recap to look over my photos. So, tired of his heavy-handed editing anyway, I decided to do a review of my own photos.

Had I stumbled onto a sales pitch for the Mormon church, disguised as a ranger talk?