carrington falls?

It’s pretty funny to reflect on this day because it was one of the most intense ones I have had in a very long time. “How the hell are we going to get out of here?” was a legitimate and frequent thought in all of our minds. I decided that being stranded in an Australian forest with two pretty great people certainly wasn’t the worst situation to be in. However, a few aimless hours and a lot of leeches later we knew we had to figure something out. This led to barefoot river hopping, more leeches, a little blood, a lot of hunger, water rationing (2 sips each when necessary), strange strangers, strength testing, Tarzan skills, a little thinking and a lot of blind faith. Brief moments were documented on a roll of film that I lost somewhere in that beautiful country, so all we have are these few before and after photos. You’ll see us naive and ill equipped for the most challenging hike I have ever been on complete with Vans, glasses and heavy camera gear. Then you’ll see us tired and filthy riding in the back of a strange man’s truck with nothing but a rock for protection. Looking through the beginning photos that were taken at a look out only about 15 minutes in I see calmness but anticipation all the same. Perhaps my vision is skewed because I know what happened shortly after these photos were taken, but there wasn’t much speaking at this lookout. I see a wonder, a craving, in us. Fast forward 4 hours and a similar feeling of wondering how we are going to find our way out of this goddamn forest is in full swing. The adventure in our spirits got the best of us. It happened in a brief instance of deciding to descend down a hill to find the bottom of a gorgeous waterfall because who the hell wants to see if from the removed, fenced lookout area? I think we all knew that we needed something more.

And we fucking got it.

 

Here’s a chronological view of the few photos that I have left.

IMG_0272IMG_0274IMG_0290IMG_0293IMG_0298IMG_0295IMG_0281IMG_0294IMG_0302IMG_0310IMG_0315IMG_0316IMG_0318IMG_0317IMG_0331IMG_0326IMG_0337IMG_0339

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
by Mary Oliver

bombo

getting off the train just in time to tear your clothes off and sprint to the ocean as the sun begins to set. ever realize while a moment is happening how much you’re gonna miss it when it’s gone? you force yourself to forget the premature nostalgia and look around in awe of how beautiful everything is.

 once you get your ocean fix you grab all of your clothes and camera gear in a rush. you sprint up a path and have to stop to put shoes on because it’s getting too rocky to bear. you run, again, in search of a rock graveyard. the bombo quarry was like nothing you’ve ever seen. the ocean crashing into a quarry on the clearest night in a beautiful country. you have a picnic with a lifelong friend on giant rocks getting eaten up by mosquitos and hoping the tide doesn’t come up any higher just for the sake of your cameras. everything is perfect. then you lose the sun and see the most starts you’ve ever seen in your life. now you have to find your way back to the train station in the dark but you don’t care because you can’t stop staring at the sky anyway. you realize you’re running out of time and embark on a ridiculous sprint to catch your train. you make it with not even a minute to spare and collapse with a big, stupid grin on your face.

sarah

IMG_2687IMG_2633sarah

Do you know what Sarah meant when she said, you be my guest to keep the pace to save your face you’ll never make the place, but do you even run the race?

thx to alex g for lyrics about some ‘sarah’ and thanks to my sarah for always letting me photograph you (and being the best gal pal)