32 » ...that inspires you.

Good morning friends,

You're reading Stillnotes. Notes on a photographic life. Written by me, Alex. Subscribed to by you. Thanks for reading.

Today we return to my favorite type of fare—mountain photography. Straight from the heart of one of my favorite places on earth. Enjoy.

I hope you have a place that inspires you. I hope you get to visit it often.

A place that swells your heart in your chest, lightens your footsteps, and surges energy through your fingertips.

One that stays a mystery, even after you've traversed it front and back. One that asks you questions you don't fully understand.

A place that makes you greedy for answers.

You should go there more often.

—

The San Juan mountains in southwest Colorado are this place for me. It is not a place of peace and relaxation. They are big, intimidating, chossy mountains. The weather is fickle. The vertical is steep, a required entry fee to the upper basins where the real magic is.

Few places on earth make me feel the way these mountains do. Being here feels important. I need to uncover why. What is it telling me? I must know.

The answers lie somewhere in these hills. I have to keep coming back. I have to go deeper.

My introduction to this place was a baptism by fire. A backpacking trip through the heart of the Weminuche Wilderness, along portions of the Weminuche High Route. I spent most nights above 12,000 feet, faced failure on multiple peaks, and left the trip starstruck... humbled.

I feel exposed here. Limited by my technical abilities, cautious about facing what the ranges here present. That challenge is a part of the allure. This place is better than me. Can I rise to meet it?

This trip was riddled with thunderstorms. Weather systems hurled themselves across the peaks faster than we could react. The area around Silverton is typified by steep trails through the trees that open into alpine basins—meaning once you get up high there's no quick escape. We snuck in some hikes to alpine lakes with angry clouds and thunder lurking. On Red Mountain 3 we turned around due to incessant rain, then turned around again determined, got rained on more, and summited watching clouds form and rip up the mountainsides enveloping us in a quiet calm. Approaching thunder sent us scampering back down feeling like shoplifters.

There is peace here, but not the peace conjured by light waves lapping up on a beach or swaying wheat fields during golden hour. It's the peace of a sleeping dragon.

I hope you have a place you want to return to until the day you die.

I hope you have a place that makes you feel like you could die right then, happy.

If not, I hope you find that place.

And then keep going back.

—Al