In early 2008 I had a lot of PTO and the ability to use it, so I sent a message to some photographers I knew online to see if any of them wanted to meet up to shoot.  Paul replied that he would be driving his girlfriend to Vegas for a conference, and I should fly out an go with him to Death Valley.  So, photography gear in hand, I flew out to Vegas to drive out into the desert with someone I hadn't met before.  When I told people what I was doing, more than one said something about this is how bad stories start...  But I wasn't worried, I mean, how dangerous can someone who shoots 8x10 wooden cameras be!  Of course, Paul was a great guy and we had a really fun trip.  

Death Valley is an amazing place, and absolutely toward the top of the list of places to see.  From dunes to marble canyons, badlands to the large halite salt crystals of the Devil's Golf Course, it is absolutely incredible.

However, no place has ever captured my imagination like the Racetrack.  A playa nestled amongst the mountains in the northwest corner of the park, it is home to the moving rocks.  It is difficult to describe the spooky feeling of seeing the trails left by the rocks.  Some of the trails are long and straight, some curve, some take sharp angles, and some even criss cross across their own paths.

Watching the sun rise over the playa, lighting up the rocks, the desolate immensity of aloneness, filled me with such wonder.

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