Narrow Paths

Hoi An, Vietnam - The markets in Vietnam are like nothing i’ve ever seen. Huge tent cities filled with miles of narrow paths, snaking out in every direction. They have everything; watches, pig heads, bicycles, you name it.

In this photo, I saw a woman who was filling an order a customer had placed. she reached across several boxes filled with grain and grabbed the one she was looking for. Pulling it close, the woman carefully measured out the correct amount for the customer. She was quick and efficient with her time, like she’d done it a million times, and yet there was a sense of calm surrounding her, as if she wasn’t in a hurry. It was a good reminder to slow down and be more conscious of the tasks at hand.

Aimlessly Wandering

Da Nang, Vietnam- Back in 2006, I was aimlessly wandering around South-East Asia, doing some soul searching, trying to figure out what i wanted to do with my life. One morning, while i was somewhere near Da Nang, Vietnam, i got up early, hopped on my bicycle, and headed out for a ride. Feeling the cool morning breeze on my face was a reprieve from the swamp air that haunted me during the day. Winding along the coast on a one lane empty road, my thoughts circled back in on themselves. After about 30 minutes, I arrived at a harbor, just as the sun was coming up. I stopped to take in the sights and instantly the smell of fish and gasoline burned my nose. I climbed off my bike and walked down to the shore. There was a faint bustle, with people first starting to wake. The sounds of the harbor were coming to life; the waves lapped against the shore, motors turned on, a general sense of business. Just then, two people pushed off from the coast and were headed out to their boat for the day. I sat there, watching as they toiled to get out from the shore. Suddenly, my life seemed very easy. As they disappeared among the large boats, I was happy that our paths crossed, even if they didn't know it.

Landing in a Marsh

Alaska - In 2009 I was working for the Bonneville Hotshots, a wildland firefighting crew based out of Salt Lake City, Utah. At the beginning of the season, we flew up to Alaska to help fight a massive wild fire raging out of control. After flying in to Fairbanks and jumping on a chartered bus, we arrived at the helibase and flew in to the fire on helicopters.  Flying in low over the timber, we landed near a marsh.  On the second load, the helicopter ended up landing in the middle of the marsh, It's tail rotor sinking dangerously close to the ground.  The pilot knew the danger and ordered everyone out. I watched as the crewmembers jumped out of the helicopter into waist deep water, wading toward dry land, holding their bags above their heads like they were in Vietnam.

For two weeks, we worked 18 hour days, cutting line, and securing the edge of the fire. Toward the end of our tour, we were assigned to burn out a section of line. For this particular assignment, my saw team, along with two other saw teams and a handful of diggers, were assigned to the hold the line, meaning we were going to spread out and make sure that our burnout operation didn't jump the line. We were positioned so that if it did cross, a handful of us could jump on it before it got out of control. As the burners staggered down the line, igniting the undergrowth, we crossed our fingers and prayed for good wind. They passed us with glazed looks on their faces, a result of the insane work schedule we all had for the last two weeks. Zach Henseler, a lead firefighter at the time, paused to check out his work as he moved by me. On our way home after our tour, we found out that the fire had blown up and destroyed all the work that we had just put in. Such is the life of a Hotshot.