MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH MONTANA ROADS began on what we called the Sheep Dip Road north of Columbus where I grew up. I learned to drive on this road accompanied by my driving instructor, also known as Dad. He patiently explained as best he could, while Elvis Presley’s “All Shook Up” blared in the background, how to move forward without throwing the Plymouth Fury into reverse.
Photographing these roads, I simultaneously take three different forks, embarking on symbolic, emotional and literal journeys. On these roads less traveled, I examine the results of the route taken, and acknowledge the residual introspection of the fork not taken (or the safe path of merely identifying a road such as “I-90, East of Billings”).
These journeys sometimes are harrowing, sometimes spiritual, sometimes both, and often just the means to an end. But they always are beautiful...
Editor's Note: Click each images to expand view.
Tobacco Roots Bend
Morning in the Ancients
Down the Middle