Might Joe Temus and the Teton river. 

My professor, Brother Carter. He's a good story. 

Garret, Ford, Girl. 

We partook of barbecue out back, on the shady side of the shed, opposite the rabbits. The food was good; the rabbits were fluffy. Then we jumped off of bridges. I didn't jump that day, but I had a good float. 

 I love this trombone.

Rexburg locals and local silos. Are we human or are we silos? "Silo" is a no-no word on campus these days. Rumour has it that President Clark discussed the negative effects of "silos" on campus. They say he noted that sometimes departments act unilaterally and therefore become silos, or that individuals remain detached from their peers void of essential communication that allows them to perform virtuous acts. Humans or Silos? 

Not saying anything about the fine stranger children in the photo in particular of course. 

Nikkormatt FT 50mm 35mm TMax 100

More from the Rirey Resevoir. I lost these ones in my folders somewhere, around some dark corner perhaps. I was pretty impressed with how these turned out considering the equipment. I just had to push the button at the right time and the camera took care of the rest . . . sort of. 

Nikkormatt FT 300mm lens 35mm film

Fourth of July

Fourth of July. Yes, I captured these photographs sometime ago; I've said it once and I'll say it again, sometimes I hoard pictures. That' right. This was the first time I pulled out my Nikkormatt for about one year. For some reason I always want to photograph the Fourth. 

The water swirled about between the walls of the vast Rirey Reservoir. We rejoiced in its inviting coolness. Slap! And we laughed at those who received its unwelcoming hard side as they tumbled and splattered across its surface. This is summer, I thought. 

 

Captured on my Nikkormatt FT through my 300mm lens on 35mm TMax 100. 

White Family

I photographed this family last year, about Christmas time. I was out to shoot her brother's wedding and she said– well since your here why not take some pictures of us? I said why not. Then pretty soon everybody said why not! and then we were out back capturing light in my box. 

They were quite the delight. He's a drama teacher and she's a mom. She worked in the costume design, closet/worshop/thingy at BYU-Idaho. And their kids are children, which is the best kind of human. Enjoy.

My uncle Ed and my aunt Marie. Ed is the brother of my mother. We visited last month. He showed me his vast collection of pedal bikes, scattered through his house, garage, and many nicely assembled along one enormous wall. He and his youngest, Trevor, enjoying "digging", intense downhill riding on their Ellsworth's. Plus, they grow some mighty fine peaches. 

This is my brother, Greg. Taken in Snow Canyon, outside of the lava caves.



Nikkormatt FT 50mm Prime 35mm film

My Sister

This is my sister Abbie. She speaks for herself.




Nikkormatt FT 50mm prime 

Grand Tour Part II: Cement Factory Revisted

Me on my way back from Mexico, 2007

I stopped by the old cement factory in Lime I had to. I had stopped there a long time ago on the road back from Mexico. This time passing through on my bike, I thought I'd relive the adventure. 

Cement bits covered the once busy work place. Graffiti decorated the walls with mind melting vulgarity and antagonism– like "thank you". The ambience still excited, but it wasn't the same, an adventure already lived never quite relives the same way; the grounds had already been explore many years before, and they remained in much the same state minus a doorframe hear and there and perhaps some new wallwriting and a moved chair. The real adventure was in the before and after. 

To arrive there I took the closed back road from Huntington, crossing the active train track bridge in the process. Leaving I got stuck. The only road out of the place was the freeway, which I had no desire to ride in the fade twilight. After some debate I put up on the otherside of the tracks in a beautiful grove of trees– beautiful in the sunlight, not so beautiful once the full moon rose, perpetual wind gust blew, highway traffic whirred, and trains consistently blasted past in the night. Bum fire pits littered the grove and deer nibbled on the grass as the night went on. I was convinced a train bum would knife  me in my hammock at any moment.  To say the least I was terrified; gradually sleep won over.

Me on my way home, 2012