Miles in the car, unfamiliar sights pass through my window. I listen to music, sometimes I read, sometimes I write in my travel log. But I usually stare out the window at the corn fields whizzing by at 70mph. I stare out my window until the corn fields wave good-bye and the mighty mountains come into view. Travel. Road Tripping. Getting lost. The very comforting and constant vibration of the car tires on the pavement, the big blue, sky and the occasional cow standing out in the pasture. This was my childhood. September in the mountains. Summer wherever. Spring at the Ocean. But then we grew up, people went off to fancy schools, got married, and little by little our family adventures slowed down. I don't see as many unfamiliar sights when I look out my window. I guess that's what growing up does - it makes things less exciting. Things change, people change, but the wilderness still tugs at my heart a little bit.

I kind of miss camping. I kind of miss filling up the Nalgene water bottles at the pump. I miss not showering for days, forgetting to put on sunscreen, Teva sandal tan lines, the takedown and setup of our yellow North Face tents, pouring sand out of our shoes, slapping mosquitos, sleeping under the stars, huckleberry ice cream in Montana. It was good. I kind of miss the many miles that we trudged in our hiking boots from REI. I kind of miss getting lost in the mountains, and our close encounters with black bears and dehydration. It was miserable and wonderful. I'll always be intrigued by the uncharted spaces on planet earth. Call it wanderlust, or something cliche, but I just kind of want to be seven-years-old again and chasing the butterflies through fields of wildflowers in a valley. Those memories are what grandparents call the good ole days.

Thanks, mom and dad for taking us places. Travel is why I learned photography.

(The following photos are from the early years of Carley & the 6 mega pixel camera :) )