At this year's OR (outdoor retailers) Tradeshow, some of my images were displayed large and glossy on the side of JanSport's display booth.  To my knowledge, my images have never been displayed larger.  Wish I could have seen it in person, but it did not work out for me to go this year. 

Earlier this summer when I climbed Mount Rainier with the JanSport crew, I shot a lot of images and they decided to use them for the booth.  I'm honored to have been linked with such a cool company.  I've got nothing but good things to say about the people I've met from JanSport. 

My Race partner, Jack, rollin' into downtown Minneapolis.

A few weeks ago I participated in the Urban Assault with my 9yr old son, Jack.  It is basically a bicycle powered scavenger hunt.  Clues and checkpoints lead you all across the city.  At checkpoints, we had to complete (often silly) challenges.  One was a trip down a water slide - timely, as we were about 40 minutes into the race and beginning to get a little hot.  One challenge was skateboard bowling.  I sat on a board, Jack pushed me towards a set of pins.  We got a strike!

Riders, trying to complete a carpet puzzle - frustrated...

Over the course of 3 hours, I think we covered about 16 miles.  It was hot and my partner was determined, but still began to fade towards the end.  One last checkpoint was left, but was a LONG ride away, so we decided to pack it in and head to the finish. Once there, we had to complete a racecourse on a tricked-out "bigwheel" (Jack's favorite part), then run and dive down a huge, inflatable slip-n-slide to the finish line.

Bigwheels=Big fun!

Rad slip-n-slide finish line.

Later in the afternoon, Jack cleaned up in the mini-bike limbo contest.  He won a messenger bag large enough to hold his kid brother!  Dance-off's and other crazed contests entertained us for several more hours. 

Jack, dominating in bike limbo.

Kids, look away.  Bearded-man dance-off.

Don't miss this ride if it comes near your town.  And pick a fun partner.  Though it's billed as a "ride", its a race, so bring your competitive spirit too.  Thanks for such a fun event, New Belgium!

This was the first time I ever photographed birds for an assignment.  It was actually kinda' fun.  We waited almost an hour for the adults to get comfortable enough with us to land at their nest and feed their young.  Once they were cool with us, they became very active--returning wtih bugs every few minutes.  I saw them bring several dragonfly's in.  It was interesting stuff.

  Martins struggle with finding housing and battling against invasive species.  Read the article for the low-down.  And they winter in South America!  Quite a migration for a 7" bird. 

NYT Article

Image Slideshow

My good "friend" over at Recycling Is Rad has a pretty killer deal going right now: Click to See.

If you are not familiar with the brand, you should know that the material of many of the bags are made entirely of used, recycled plastic bags.  It's mega-durable stuff--just think of the strength of one bag, then multiply that several times.  Roughly 170 bags went into the last backpack that rolled out of her shop.  I think that's pretty rad.

We shot these images a few weeks ago on one of the hot, summer days we've been having here in Minneapolis.  I'll miss you when you're gone Summer--you're my fav.

Left: Cyclocross by Capricorn                  Right: Crazy, split dropout by Speedhound

Both:  Capricorn rigid 29'er-- drool...

Left:Track bike by Dominguez--Favorite.   Right: Mtn. Tandem by Bob Brown--TOUGH!

Left: Mr. Chris Kvale                               Right:  Another Dominguez

Left: Peakcock Groove 29'er                    Right: Wyganowski- pursuit bike (?)

The course, a roughly 6 mile loop through typical UP forest, is just great.  It's got flat railroad-grade, rock gardens, mud holes, sandy descents and my nemesis-- a mile long climb.  In typical single-speed fashion, I used the hill to catch and make time on the other teams.  With no way to "gear-down", I settle into a cadence and grind that hill.  But what goes up must come down and the descent is fast, rooty and super awesome. 

Beginning at 10am on Saturday morning, the race goes till 10pm the same night.  If you do the race as a relay team like we did, then you race your lap as fast as you can then tag the next guy so he/she can do the same.  While your teammates race, you sit down, eat, drink and wait for your turn again. 

Jim, 59 yrs old - still hammering through the woods. - Photo by Robbie Morford

My team consisted of my father-in-law Jim, his pals Dave and Jim A. and myself.  We represented the oldest cumulative aged team, but we didn't race like it.  My whole team fired around the course as fast as they could each turn and held really consistent lap times for the whole 12 hours.  We did not win, or really even come close, but I'm happy to say that we didn't lose either. 

Me, hurting and happy. -Photo (L) Jim Ferris, (R) Robbie Morford

And the "potluck" part?  A good number of racers contribute to a table full of random dishes of food.  So, post-race the place becomes a potluck party.  My favorite dish: Nepali Chicken, wrapped in a flour tortilla.  Holy-moley, that was good eatin'!

It was a great day of racing, and one of the highlights of my summer.  I'm already thinking ahead to next year and trying to improve my fastest laps again.

A few weeks ago I shot this article for the New York Times Garden Section.  It was really a beautiful assignment, full of colors and textures that I was not really expecting.  Author, Michael Tortorello, guided his guests into making tea with items he'd grown in his backyard herb garden.  Some were herbs, but also fruit and other plants.

Lemon Verbena leaves.

It reminded me of a time when as a kid, we put random items in water and dared one another to drink it.  However, most of the concoctions we came up with in Michael's yard were fit to drink.  A few were definitely not...

Getting a whiff of his homemade tea.

To read the story go here: NYT Tea

To see a slideshow of my images: NYT Tea Slideshow

Preparing to Leave "Paradise" for the climb.

"Ten minutes to the crater ridge!" That was the shout from behind, and it was just in time -- my legs were turning to rubber. We were above 14,000 feet on Mount Rainier's massive face. The voice -- a guide on the rope line in the rear of the group -- gave me a surge of energy as we neared the summit on what is arguably America's most iconic mountain peak.

It was late June, and I'd been invited to join an annual Mount Rainier climb sponsored by JanSport. About 55 miles southeast of Seattle, and rising to 14,410 feet, Rainier is the most glaciated peak in the continental U.S. Thousands of climbers attempt its summit every year, most by some variation of the "Disappointment Cleaver" route my team took in June.

Hiking through the clouds.

The climb, a multi-day feat for most parties, starts from the Paradise trailhead at 5,400 feet. To reach the top, a trek and climb of about nine miles plus a thigh-trashing gain of more than 9,000 feet of elevation is required. Though it was past summer solstice when my group arrived, there was still 14-foot-tall snow banks in the parking lot.

The Rainier seminar, an annual climb, echoes JanSport co-founder Skip Yowell's original goal of having fun in life -- not being stuck behind a desk wishing he was. Skip remains the face of his company, which was founded in 1967, and JanSport continues to be one of the most recognizable backpack companies in the world.

Our group on Rainier was a diverse one, including retail partners from as far away as Finland. There were outdoor-industry advocates and even a member of the U.S. Department of the Interior who came from Washington D.C. across the country to Washington state for the climb. Each of us shared an affection for the outdoors and arrived at Mount Rainier National Park pretty fired up for the climb.

Well above the clouds, almost to Camp Muir at 10,000 ft.

The first day of our seminar, led by International Mountain Guide instructors, was spent checking gear, acclimatizing and going through a snow-school course at Paradise. It was an introduction to the mountain environment above, where snowfields stretch thousands of feet and glaciers creak and move like living things. Unlike most 14ers in the U.S., Rainier requires a special skill set, including rope-team and glacier-rescue knowledge for treading onto the crevasse-laden slopes above 10,000 feet.

Camp Muir and the "plywood box" we would sleep in.

Day No. 2. Time to climb! We began the ascent toward the top with a 4.5-mile slog to Camp Muir. The "camp" is actually a small group of permanent structures, including primitive bathrooms. It sits at about 10,000 feet and is staffed by climbing rangers throughout the year.

The group began under low clouds out of Paradise, mingling with day-hikers and sightseers on the trail. Thick mist soaked my face and hair. I settled into the trudge toward Muir, a five-hour feat, somewhere high above. Camera at my side, I'd hike fast ahead to capture photos of the team as they inched upward against the white.

Sunrise at Camp Muir - one of m favorite times on the Mtn.

Bob Marley tunes played over Camp Muir while I settled into my new digs -- the digs being essentially a mobile-home-size plywood box that the guide services share. My group stayed at Muir one night. A breakfast of chocolate-chip pancakes, hashed potatoes and bacon would come in the morning. IMG guides know their way around a skillet as well as a mountain!

"Good morning Camp Muir, anybody copy?" A handheld radio screeched as we got ready on the morning of our third day. The group roped up, clipped into crampons, and prepared to tromp among Rainier's glacial crevasses and under icefalls for final a preparation day.

Chad pulls on crampons, getting ready to travel on the glacier.

Once climbers leave Camp Muir, they are officially traveling on a glacier.  For this reason, all teams are roped.  While routes have been probed for safety, teams are still likely to cross snow-covered crevasses. A fall either in a crevasse or down the mountain could be fatal.

A short but gorgeous trek from Camp Muir brought us to 11,200 feet and the tent camp of Ingram Flats. I pestered my guide into stopping several times for photos. This new alpine world was too beautiful to hurry through.  Along the way, I took in postcard views in every direction. In the distance, volcanic peaks of the Pacific Northwest popped from the land.

Ingram Flats was our jumping-off point for summit day.  A small lot was staked off for safety.  Now that our team was on the glacier, crevasse danger was a real threat.  Only areas that had been probed and marked with stakes were considered safe to travel on.

Me, "working", but actually chillin' at Camp Muir- 10,000 ft. 

Mark, a JanSport merchandise manager from Chicago and my rope partner for the climb, shared a tent with me.  We settled into our sleeping bags around 6:00pm to try to get a few hours of sleep before a 12:40am departure toward Rainier's crater rim.

All too soon: "Climbers, let's get up." Thus came the call to rise some time around midnight. I hurried and pulled on my clothing. Double checked my camera gear. Grabbed my ice axe, and joined the team for a fast midnight "breakfast" and some quick instructions.

The larger group broke up into roped teams. My small squad -- just Mark, our guide, and me -- moved slowly up the mountain and into the dark. Our beams shined on the snow. Looking back, a dotted line of headlamps zigzagged behind.

The leisurely pace of the previous day had left us with pretty fresh legs.  By now, though, getting near 12,000 feet most of the climbers were experiencing at least the small affects of the altitude.  A few minutes into the climb we crossed our first visible crevasse -- I held my breath as I stepped over. Though less than a foot wide, the crack ran 50 feet or more before its icy blue walls pinched together. Further up, there were crevasses large enough to swallow a house.

One of my guides, Jason.  The crater of Rainier and the sunrise behind him.

Weather intensified toward the top -- whipping winds lifted ice from beyond my headlamp beam and slung frozen chips in strong gusts. I bent into the wind and hid my face. Our guides, seeing potential for things to get worse as the day progressed, decided a fast summit and descent was the best option.

Breaks that most guided groups take were skipped. The pace was pushed. It felt good to suffer, to earn my first big alpine summit with some grit.

We climbed through the dark. My legs burned. At last, hours into the night, I heard the announcement that the summit was close. "Ten minutes to the crater ridge!" a guide shouted out.

At 4:40am, only four hours after we left Ingram Flats, I stepped onto the belly of Rainier's crater. Drunken legs and depleted thighs were well worth that moment. On the eastern horizon, the sunrise was a sliver of orange. No time to soak in the moment, though, as we had to drop our packs and stomp to the actual highest point on Mount Rainier.

14,410 feet! A few whoops and hollers from the summit perch, and then my group headed down.  Steaming cracks and exposed rocks, hot to the touch, gave reminder that I was walking on a volcano, live and brewing.

Most mountaineers will tell you that the summit is only half way.  While that is true, I felt a strong sense of accomplishment as we began the downhill section of the climb. However, more falls happen on tired, wobbly legs on the way down.  Mark struggled a bit. His eye, irritated from a piece of ice hitting his cornea during the climb, was injured and he was having trouble seeing. I gripped my ice axe more than once in anticipation of a fall.

Stepping out of the crater to descend meant that we still had nine miles of hiking left. Though headed downhill, I was tired and feeling clumsy. It was hard to believe I had climbed so far -- the parking lot of Paradise seemed a world away.  Shoulders and knees ached from the weight, but I was having too much fun to care.

Several hours of slushy, boot-sliding descent later, my weathered team stepped off the snowfields and safely onto a tarmac parking lot at Paradise. We were met by wide-eyed, photo-snapping hikers.

I'd seen the top of one of our country's greatest mountains. I was sad that the big adventure was over, but happy to have bagged my first true alpine ascent.

I've always loved this illustration.  It's so old, but works so well. 

This was hanging in the hall of a middle school I shot a job in this Spring.  I could not resist shooting this.

Good graphic design is such a delight.  Good on 'ya to those who can make it.  I tip my hat.

Randall near the Mill City Ruins.

Randall and his VeloVeggies Delivery vehicle on the Midtown parkway.

Friend and teammate, Randall has launched a pretty unique venture here in Minneapolis.  Another friend, Dimitri has done nearly the same thing.  They both use their bicycles to deliver groceries.  It's telling that they can both make a (meager) living at this. 

Since I have lived here, Minneapolis has made great progress in making bicycle transportation easier.  We have bike lanes and bike trails all over the city.  We don't have to mix it up with motorists unless I want to--what a luxury. 

Dimitri - Haulin'

I'll be using these bike lanes this Sunday when my family and I roll downtown to watch fireworks for the 4th.  Should be a good time.

Dimitri, crossing one of our bicycle/pedestrian only bridges in Minneapolis.

Visit the websites of these gents if you are interested in knowing more about their work.

www.veloveggies.com

http://www.greenlighttransfer.com