Encampment + a photo shoot

from a weekend this fall, in a house frozen in time on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. if somewhere would hire me to shoot their clothing line, i'd be the happiest gal alive. i swear. 


I'm sitting at my kitchen table, which looks out to a parking lot littered with tumbleweeds, a dusting of snow ringing the concrete separators. While it's been a mild January so far, today's a cold one, and it has me dreaming of this fall, for sunny days hiking in sweatshirts. 

Vedauwoo is another hidden gem of Wyoming. It straddles the border of Albany and Laramie counties, halfway between Laramie and Cheyenne, part of the vast Medicine Bow National Forest. It's a haven for climbers, but is just as fun to hike--especially if you take a few minutes to deviate from the path and scramble over some of the rock formations [but bring a friend!] 

My favorite trail is the Turtle Rock trail--at just over three miles, it's a great way to spend an hour or two. The trail takes you through meadows and aspen groves, past little ponds and up and around the rocks. It's best enjoyed an hour or two before sunset, when the rocks take on a dark reddish, pink glow and the sun starts to fall behind the trees. 

I hiked the trail a couple of months ago [and will hike it again, soon, most likely] with a friend of mine. We took our time to stop and take pictures, hop over rocks in streams, scramble to the top of rocks off the trail, and enjoy the beautiful October weather. At the end of the hike, we were lucky enough to see two moose [my first two moose!]--and when we got back to the parking lot  we saw a momma moose with her babies. I stood on a stump and took pictures, until the moose got so close to me that I had to jog away. [never in any real danger, just a precaution!] It was crazy, to get so up close and personal with wildlife--I've never experienced anything like it. 

2017 // Making the West Home

2017 was the year of Making the West My Home. I made friends and I moved into a new apartment and I saw a chunk of my state. I learned to swing dance [well, sort of] and I finished my nights at the Buckhorn, willingly--wore a Surf Wyoming hat to football games, drank from a Nalgene, have clothes covered in red dust that will never come out. I covered branding days and rodeos and pig penning, and I covered school plays and wildfires and community events, all of which are just as Wyoming as the stuff you see in the movies. There's a content-ness, in my bones, that hasn't been there for a long time. I am in a place, and I have been in that place, and it is my home. I know every street like the back of my hand, run into people in the supermarkets, bouncers recognize me, have a church and a gym and a favorite running route. I don't know how long I'll stay, but I'm trying not to worry about it, for the time being, anyways.

I'm not sure what's in store for me in 2018, but I hope it's more of this--more hikes, more books, more long nights, more football games, more tired Wyoming towns, more pictures. More.

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