Rediscovering Life on the West Coast Road

Dec 23

A West Coast Awakening: From Fairbanks to San Francisco and Every Moment Between

When I first stepped out into the icy air of Fairbanks, it felt like the world was giving me a cold, beautiful nudge to pay attention. The northern lights were our first chapter—a quiet prologue of family moments under a sky painted in green and purple. That was the starting point, the place where I realized I had a choice to make about how I wanted to live my life.

Then came Seattle, a city that handed me a spark and a tattoo in the same breath. It was there, amid the architecture and the candid street scenes, that I fell back in love with urban photography. A four-hour ink session with Chris at Moonlight Tattoos wasn’t just about the art on my arm; it was about the art inside me waking up. Seattle was the place that said, “Hey, you’ve still got that fire.”

Portland came next, a city that taught me how to dance in the drizzle and see the streets as a living canvas. I picked up a new street photography technique in Portland, one that I carried with me to Eureka and beyond. Portland was where I learned to let the city itself become part of the art—every mural, every street corner, a piece of the bigger picture.

Then there was the Redwood Highway—a stretch of road that made me feel small in the best possible way. Driving down that coastal route, stopping to capture shots of towering trees and misty coastlines, was like nature’s way of saying, “This is what you’re here for. To feel this alive.”

Eureka was a revelation of its own, with its night photography opportunities and a bowl of vegan spinach ramen that was as much a piece of art as any photo I snapped. It was also where I saw the reality of the world a little more clearly—the mix of beauty and struggle, the contrasts that every city holds. And as I rolled on to Napa, I found a moment of rest, a chance to reflect on the winding roads and the unexpected joys of taking the longer path.

By the time I reached San Francisco, I was road-weary but determined. The fog that cloaked the Golden Gate Bridge was just another reminder that sometimes you have to find beauty in what you can’t quite see. And even when the lights went out in the city, I found my way. Because this trip wasn’t just about the destinations; it was about proving to myself that I’m here to live fully, to seize every opportunity, and to wake up to the life I want to lead.

So here’s the heart of it: This West Coast journey was my way of stepping back into the light. It was about rediscovering the things that make me feel alive—photography, creativity, and the sheer joy of embracing each moment. After everything—the losses, the heart surgery, the questions—I’ve come out of this trip knowing that I want to live. I want to capture the world through my lens, build and create with my hands, and never let another moment slip by unnoticed.

If you’ve followed this story from the frozen silence of Fairbanks to the fog-softened edges of San Francisco, then you already know this trip was never really about geography. It was about momentum. About saying yes again. About letting curiosity lead instead of fear, comfort, or routine.

The redwoods, the coastline, the rain-soaked streets, the city grids — all of it worked together to wake something back up inside me. The Redwood Highway didn’t just offer towering trees and moody light; it offered perspective. Driving through those giants, with mist hanging low and the ocean crashing not far away, reminded me how small we are — and how freeing that realization can be. Out there, between forest and coast, I felt re-energized in a way I hadn’t in a long time. Every pull-off, every curve in the road, every imperfect weather moment became an invitation instead of an obstacle.

The coastal shots I captured weren’t about perfection. They were about presence. Wind whipping, rain threatening, skies refusing to cooperate — and yet, the beauty was undeniable. That stretch of the trip reinforced something Portland had already started teaching me: you don’t wait for ideal conditions to create. You step into what’s in front of you and decide what you’re going to take from it. That mindset followed me everywhere after.

By the time I reached the end of the road, something fundamental had shifted. I wasn’t just documenting a trip anymore — I was rebuilding a relationship with myself. With art. With movement. With the quiet confidence that I can drop into any city, any street, any weather, and find something worth seeing. Worth feeling. Worth capturing.

This journey gave me permission to expand again — to plan future city walks, future street photography sessions, future portfolios that lean hard into urban grit, candid humanity, architecture as art, and cities as living galleries. It reminded me that I don’t need to fully understand why I love certain images or spaces — I just need to honor that I do.

So this isn’t an ending. It’s a reset.

The West Coast gave me a gift: the reminder that life doesn’t wait for perfect timing, clear skies, or ideal circumstances. You show up. You stay present. You create anyway.

And I’m carrying that forward — camera in hand, eyes open, heart awake — wherever the road takes me next.

#WestCoastReawakening, #UrbanPhotoAdventure, #RedwoodsAndRain, #StreetPhotographyJourney, #FromFairbanksToSanFrancisco, #CaptureTheMoment, and maybe #LifeThroughMyLens

Check out all the Google Albums from this 2025 Adventure.

Alaska Photos