I recently read The Adventure Gap: Changing the Face of the Outdoors by James Edward Mills, which chronicles the first all African-American summit attempt on Denali. The book is part history, part alpine adventure, and part social commentary on why black people are reluctant to experience nature and the outdoors. I highly suggest reading it. The book reminded me of my own time spent climbing mountains in the Pacific Northwest, and I could not stop thinking about the below image as I read the book.
I took this image on June 14, 2014, after a successful summit of Mount Hood in Oregon. My climbing group was making our descent, and I stopped to pull out my Canon T3i to grab a shot. Photography is not easy while climbing. Physical exhaustion, cold fingers, and blinding light make it hard to focus on a composition. During this period of my photography journey I was a point and shoot kinda guy. Put the camera on full auto and sort it out later. This image was so poorly exposed I did not even edit it until 2016 after finally learning how to use Photoshop. I think it works as a B&W image.
I like images that slowly reveal themselves the longer you view them, and I think this image accomplishes that. The image depicts three climbers with ice axes, crampons, and helmets descending a snowy mountain peak. The path the climbers are taking is noticeably narrow and steep on either side. Finally you notice the whole scene is happening above the clouds which adds a sense of adventure. I like how the climber in the foreground was caught in mid-stride with a gait that suggests little physical effort is being exerted. I attribute that to the fact that only minutes earlier we had summited the mountain, and were still feeling the rush of accomplishment.
This image is special to me even though it was taken before I really knew how to properly take a photo, although at the time I thought I was a brilliant photographer. It brings back good memories of my time living in Washington and my many outdoor adventures. It reminds of friends I have not seen for a long time, and the guilt of not calling them to catch up. I remember the conversation I had with another climber shortly after this photo was taken about how my wife and I were trying to have a baby. My obvious subjectivity regarding this photo is noted, which makes me feel better about it lacking the technical merits of a National Geographic cover shot. It is a photo I will keep forever and show to my son Henry right before he and I head out on an adventure.