Do you ever start out thinking you know where you’re headed, then wind up somewhere completely different?

That’s how I found myself at the Grand Canyon in January. It’s also how I found myself bouncing around the country for several years, moving back to New England, starting a family, and operating a photography business.

I never really planned to do any of those things. But often the roads you hadn’t intended to take hold the most meaningful surprises.

For all the traveling I’ve done around this country, I’ve only ever visited the Grand Canyon once before, and when I did I was so burnt out from a month on the road visiting national parks, big, beautiful rocks, and impressive holes in the ground that it was a little lackluster for me by the time I reached it. I know that makes me sound incredibly spoiled, but that’s only because I’m incredibly spoiled.

When I met my dad out west for our photo trip this year, we didn’t know exactly where we’d go—the national parks were effectively closed due to the government shutdown, there was snow up north, and there were plenty of other what-ifs to consider. But we decided to go for it, and—as usual—I’m glad we did.

---