Case Coffee Roasters

I've been in this creative rut lately thats led me to the mentality of "if its interesting, I'll photograph it". I get caught up in only sharing work that reflects the type of photographer I want to be, but the reality is, there's a lot of things that I have appreciation for and want to photograph. Coffee has always been one of them, so when I got the chance to take a few photos of Tim and Kati Case's beautiful shop in Ashland, Oregon a few weeks back, I jumped on it. Tim knows more about the coffee roasting process than you can imagine and was gracious enough to give me the cliff notes. They source their beans from farms all over the world and roast them in small batches. I even got to take home a bag of the batch Tim roasted during this mini session! If you ever find yourself in Ashland, make sure to stop by Case Coffee Roasters. Its sure to put a smile on your face. 

Caveman Collective - Behind the Scenes

I've admired the work of fellow namesake and camera magician Andrew Bydlon, one of the founding members of Caveman Collective, for quite some time now. His comrades Ben Fullerton and Tom Deschenes are passionate storytellers and their desire to give a voice to the mighty do-it-yourself small business owner is prevalent throughout their work. You can bask in all the inspirational glory of their creations here. 

Earlier this month, Andrew invited me to shoot story supporting stills on a project they're producing about 3 companies making great products in the mountain biking industry here in Denver. Here's a couple of my favorite behind the scenes images of the fellas in action.


The tone and texture of a 9 day trip through the upper west to the great state of Oregon.   

An extra hour

I'd been counting down the days like a kid waiting for Christmas. March 12th was finally here and with it comes that glorious extra daylight. What better way to ring it in than camping and fishing. 

We started the two day exploits off in Browns Canyon fishing the Arkansas. I'd floated that stretch of river on family vacation as a kid a couple times but back then, I had zero interest in fishing. Heck, I was oblivious to the amount of fish swimming below me as I held on tight to that blue tube, zipping over rocks and getting soaked in the rapids. Fast forward 15 years or so and the river hasn't changed much, but my priorities sure have. 

A day full of taking turns through productive runs, heckling the shit out of anyone who missed a hook set and hiking the better part of 4 miles up and down river, we were beat. The promise of campfire grilled brats kept the good vibes rolling. The full moon crept over the horizon with a forceful glare, illuminating the valley we found ourselves tucked into for the night. All was right in the world, and the world consisted of Coors Lite and fish stories. 

Day two brought the sights and wind of the all too familiar Dream Stream. A river smack dab in the middle of a wind tunnel can drive you mad if you let it. 

All in all, the trip was a success. Made a couple new fishy friends, fished a new river and had a blast doing it. 

Trekking through Herman Gulch

Winter has tightened its death grip around the throat of Colorado's vast wilderness and its showing no signs of letting go. As someone who never grew up skiing or snowboarding, being raised in central Missouri meant winter always harkened a season of trying to manage my paper route on a frozen bike, digging my car out of the snow bank the street plows buried it in and eating chili on a weekly basis. Mix in a few shoveled driveways for your elderly neighbors and you've all the makings for a deep seeded hatred for the powder so many Coloradans dance around a fire every October and make sacrifices to the gods for. Winter just isn't my thing. But heading into my second season of a proper rocky mountain winter, I've figured out how to make the most of it. So when my new friend Steven asked if we wanted to hike around in the frozen forest until our extremities go numb, we said "hell yes". 

Can you spot the tiny human? 

I don't think I've ever experienced wind as cold as we did up there near 12,000 ft. We huddled in the last clump of trees for a quick snack and a few sips of water. My hands took a long time to warm back up but the peanut butter cup trail mix that Jen brought and shared made the temporary loss of feeling temporarily worth it. 

The weather couldn't have been more bipolar. From gusting winds that sting any sliver of exposed skin, to fleeting rays of sunshine, mother natures kept us on our toes. 

It may not be as glamorous as skiing, and there were certainly times I wished I could slide down the hill I just struggled to crest, but snowshoeing has quickly become our favorite winter outdoor activity. Its certainly aided in curing the ails from memories of midwest winters past.