I have seen quite a few “favorites of 2011″ lists popping up, so I decided to compile one for myself. According to my file sorting program I shot roughly 6500 images this past year.

Needless to say, I have quite a few images from 2011 that I would call favorites. Picking 11 of those images to be my favorite favorites was no easy task. The following images made the list for various reasons- the memories they evoke, the story behind them, I just think they’re a nice image- fun to look at, easy on the eyes…

Having said all of that, here you are.

My top 11 images of 2011.

In the order they were captured throughout the year:

I lived in Northern Arizona this spring, only 45 minutes from the Grand Canyon. That’s not very far. And, that canyon is huge. Lots of places to explore. For some reason, though, I only made one trip to the Grand Canyon this year. And was there for about twenty minutes. With three guys from Oklahoma. As well as 861 other people from all over the world. It was late afternoon when we walked out to the Mather Point Overlook to find this view. I plan on getting down to the river in the bottom of the canyon and hopefully up to the North Rim when I head back out there soon.

My dear friends’ younger son, Pax, turned one. As with any one year old birthday party, it was a mess. And it was beautiful. And a mess.

This summer I walked 800 miles through California on part of the Pacific Crest Trail. The entire trail is 2700 miles from the Mexico Border to the Canada Border. It runs through California, Oregon, and Washington. Heading north from Mexico, the first 700 miles is through a hot, dry desertous landscape. I saw rain only one day while trekking through this stretch of trail. I woke up to a dark gray sky and a light rain. I’d been camped beside a small creek in an old horse camp. This morning I wound through the hills and past the remnants of a forest fire that took place a few years ago as I walked in the fog and the rain. I saw this little ladybug on a thistle just off the trail. I almost missed it as I passed by. A trail like the PCT is known for its grand views and vast landscapes. To me, something as little as a ladybug is just as inspiring as something as grand as Mount Whitney (360 miles to the north). Three  hours later the clouds had burned off, the temperature had broken 100, and I found myself hitchhiking in search of pizza with a 50something year old Puerto Rican that I’d met about 20 minutes prior. This ended up being one of my top two favorite images from the entire hike.

While hiking the southern part of the PCT, hikers talk of two things that lie ahead- The Sierras which are pretty far north, and more closely, The Mojave Desert. Both are feared and revered for different reasons. The Sierras for the snow and raging rivers and grand views. The Mojave for the sun and heat and lack of shade or water. At the end of this dirty dusty road is a hiker oasis called Hikertown. It is an odd place. A hostel for hikers that has been built up at a highway crossroads to look like a Wild West Saloon Town. Words can’t describe it so I won’t try. I sat out the heat of the day in the converted garage with some of my hiking buddies and after the sun finally set I decided that instead of spending the night at Hikertown, I was going to enter the dreaded Mojave Desert. I ended up hiking 13 of the 18 shadeless/waterless miles between Hikertown and the Cottownwood Creek bridge by the light of the moon. That night I laid my sleeping bag down beneath the stars in the desert. Before I slept I wrote this, “1:45am. Just did 13 miles by the light of the moon. Cowboy camping in the desert. Coyotes howling less than 100 yards away. A perfect night.”

This is by far my number one most favorite image from my hike on the PCT as well as all of 2011. No question about it. July 4th, 2011. We’d entered the dreaded Sierras the day before. And by dreaded I mean amazing and beautiful and awe inspiring. Did I mention amazing? The plan for the 4th was to climb to the summit of Mount Whitney (14,505 feet- the highest point in the lower 48) and try to watch any fireworks shows that might be happening in the towns far below. I was going to spend the night up there and photograph the sunrise the next morning before continuing north. Unfortunately, we were caught in an afternoon thunderstorm at Crabtree Meadow (8 miles from the top of Mount Whitney) and didn’t make the summit on the 4th. When the rain did eventually stop three hours later, we decided to hike up to Guitar Lake (11,467 feet) which is only 4 miles from the top so we could summit instead on the morning of the 5th. I crested a saddle in the late afternoon before dropping down to the campsites at Guitar Lake. Looking back towards the west I saw these snow covered peaks. The next morning 7 of us climbed Mount Whitney together. We gained 3,000 feet over four miles to eventually stand on top of the mountain. It wasn’t long before we were hurried off the summit by an approaching thunderstorm. I returned to the campsite at Guitar Lake to find that my hat had been eaten by Marmots. Damn Marmots.

Another day that we were caught in long lasting afternoon thunderstorms. The problem with these storms at high elevation is that oftentimes you have nowhere to get out of the rain. And it is cold when it rains. Cold air and cold rain with nowhere to hide, makes for an unpleasant afternoon, especially when you fell half a mile back (because you were running towards the Tyndall Creek Ranger Station in hopes of finding a covered porch) and cut your hand and both legs and twisted your ankle. Spending those few hours sitting on your bear canister beneath a haphazardly erected tarp with your hiking buddies makes it bearable, though, almost enjoyable. When the rain stops and the sun shines and you bandage your wounds and hike half a mile upstream to finally find a place to cross the rain swollen Tyndall Creek and you look up to see your friend, Orion, strolling across the meadow wearing a leisure coat and bedroom slippers and carrying a copy of the Odessy in his hand and he bids you a good afternoon, you can’t help but agree. It is a good afternoon. Then, you climb up to where the snow is still deep and cross what seems like a never ending sea of snow to eventually camp on an island of rocks below Forester Pass (the highest point on the PCT) and watch a sunset as beautiful as this. Well, that’s just a good day all together.

“Can we get back to the reception and our friends now? We want to go dance some more.” Sarah and Scott told me this after I’d snuck them away from their wedding reception for a minute to grab a few portraits. I couldn’t argue with them. Their reception was pretty awesome. The dance floor was packed from the start of the reception until the very end when they ran to their car under a tunnel of sparklers. What a fun wedding. If only every wedding could be this fun and easy to photograph. And, I don’t even like dancing.

I’m allergic to pretty much everything. So, of course, I sneezed the rest of the day after shooting the images in this flower filled field and then later in the hay filled barn. When I first posted this image of my friend Celia on the blog a few months ago, these words accompanied it. “Celia and I have known each other for years. I have always known that she rides horses and I finally made the drive out to the barn where her family keeps their 10 horses a few weeks ago. We explored the fields near the barn and then the barn itself. Celia was kind enough to step in front of the camera for a little while. I think I could photograph Celia again and again. We had a blast. And, she’s kind of a natural in front of the camera.”  I still agree with those words.

Somehow I missed Laurel Fork Falls in Tennessee when I hiked through there on the Appalachian Trail in 2000 and 2002. For some reason or another I found myself going around the area each time, so when I finally reached the falls in the fall of 2008 I couldn’t help but wonder what had taken so long. From where I was standing when I took this photo, the AT is literally about 15 feet to my left. In September I took my little brother down to the falls. He caught giant crayfish in the creek. I snapped photos.

My friends and I spend a week down on the Outer Banks of North Carolina every October doing one thing: fishing. One of the places we’ve always enjoyed throwing our lines is on the point at Oregon Inlet. The inlet is the body of water that separates Bodie Island from Hatteras Island. The point is the very end of Bodie Island, where the beach reaches towards Hatteras Island. This fall Hurricane Irene took the point and actually made it into an island. So, the point is no longer the point and the new point just isn’t the same. The channel where all of the fish like to hang out and taunt us is no longer accessible. We didn’t let that stop us from fishing down at the new point, though. We also didn’t let this pelican stop us from fishing down there. He definitely tried. He was not afraid to come up and talk to us. He tried to bite Carl on the back of the leg. Carl may or may not have tried to bite him back.

Much of this fall was spent at the house where I grew up in Greensboro finishing a long running restoration/repair project for my folks. I watched summer turn to fall and now fall has turned to winter. Every afternoon in early November the leaves that were left on the trees would be bathed in late afternoon sunlight, making them look rich and golden. Two days after I took this photograph the wind blew hard and all of the leaves fell from the trees.

If I am lucky enough to see half as many beautiful things and have half as many incredible experiences and find half as many fun photographic opportunities in 2012 as I did in 2011, then I can’t wait to see what the upcoming year has in store…

Whenever I have lunch with my mother, she always reaches into her purse and hands me two Dove Dark Chocolates at the end of the meal. I’m pretty sure she has an endless supply in there because for years, without fail, our lunches have ended with the chocolates. We always share the inscriptions on the inside of the wrappers as we eat our tiny, delicious deserts.

Today we were joined by my beloved grandmother, The Bisz aka Grandmama, at PF Changs. So, along with the chocolate was also a fortune cookie. My lucky day. Not one, but two deserts! And, coincidentally, both the message in the Dove wrapper and the message in the fortune cookie touched on something that I have come to know all too well over the years- Adventure.

I feel like adventure is something that I do pretty well. And, naturally, with adventure comes photography. It has been 5 months since I last shared anything of any real substance on here. During the last 5 months I have had some pretty serious adventures. Both adventurely (not a real word) speaking and photographically speaking. Let me touch on some of these briefly right now and in the coming weeks I plan on doing full blog posts on each one.

That having been said, take a look at these adventures and shoots I have been part of since we last spoke. And, if you get a chance, put the words of the Dove wrapper and the fortune cookie to practice. Find an adventure of your own. Literally, figuratively, or metaphorically.

I’m already planning a few new adventures and photo shoots for the near future. Here are your teasers…

***

 The Pacific Crest Trail:

I mentioned in the only post I’ve made in the last 5 months that I spent time on the Pacific Crest Trail this summer. From May to July I walked 800 miles on the PCT. While I was out there I shot roughly 1600 images. I just recently narrowed down those images to my favorites and posted them to a new gallery on my website. Find it by clicking HERE.

The thing is, I could do a blog post for every day I was out there. And, many times before I have done just that in various incarnations. I could probably do posts for every image I captured and every story behind that image. So, be warned that there will probably be many stories of the PCT showing up here in the future.

***

Sarah and Scott:

I met Scott through a mutual friend a few years ago. And, just before I headed to California to begin my PCT Adventure he contacted me to tell me he was getting married and interested in having me photograph the wedding. I was honored to capture Sarah and Scott’s Wedding in August.

I warned them that I might look like a wild mountain man with a giant beard and they said they could care less. I have never met or seen two people who were more laid back and easy going on their wedding day. It was so fun witnessing the day and capturing it all with my camera. The newly launched wedding section of WACphotography can be found HERE.

***

Celia:

I would not have been able to successfully photograph Sarah and Scott’s Wedding if it weren’t for the help of my dear friend, Celia. We were catching up over smoothies not long before the wedding and I asked if she would be interested in assisting me. Thankfully, she said yes. We had a blast working together and hopefully will get the chance to do it again sometime.

Celia and I have known each other for years. I have always known that she rides horses and I finally made the drive out to the barn where her family keeps their 10 horses a few weeks ago. We explored the fields near the barn and then the barn itself. Celia was kind enough to step in front of the camera for a little while. I think I could photograph Celia again and again. We had a blast.

And, she’s kind of a natural in front of the camera.

***

The Appalachian Trail:

While I was hiking the PCT in July I took a nasty fall and cut up both legs and my hand. It all happened so fast too. I was walking along some rocks that lined the side of the snow covered trail and one of the rolled as I stepped on it. I pulled out of the fall just before I face planted. In hindsight I might have been better off if I hadn’t tried to stop myself from falling. A few days after the fall I noticed my ankle was sore and swollen. I iced it and rested for a day and the swelling went away. Over the next 200 miles my ankle would get sore and swell up every couple of days. By the time I reached the town of Mammoth Lakes I knew it was time to take a break and let things actually try to heal. So, I left the PCT a few weeks earlier than I was orginially planning to leave in order to get back to NC for the wedding.

Two months after leaving the PCT I decided I was ready to do another hike. I mapped out and planned a five week trip using the Appalachian Trail, the Mountains to Sea Trail, and the Benton Mackaye Trail. A few weeks ago I headed to Virginia to pick up the AT and the first leg of my adventure.

And, by the end of the first day I came to the realization that the injury I acquired on the PCT has still not fully healed. My new five week adventure quickly turned into a one week adventure.

I did cover 75 miles through some beautiful terrain during that week. And, my first day was spent with my dad joining me on the trail and the last day was spent with my little brother joining me on the trail. And, the AT is the place where my adventures first began and where I will always return to.

***

Just like the fortune cookie said today, Adventure can be a real happiness. I can tell you that for the last five months I have been quite happy. Especially in the adventures that I have found.

I have learned that adventure can just as easily be found in a fortune cookie as it can in the mountains. It can be found in a photograph or in a field, as well as at a wedding or with old friends. It all depends on where you look.