Matthew Carpenter belays a climber at Red Rocks in Las Vegas, NV.
A slackers dirty feet with broken toes at Lightning in a Bottle festival in Irvine, CA.
Highliners watch the sun set over San Bernardino after a day of highlining in Crestline, Calif.
I can’t pinpoint when I got my first “call of the open road,” but it was at a young age. Growing up in the suburbs of Ohio, the recreation options left a lot to be desired. I started off playing conventional sports like baseball, basketball, football, etc., but never dug the team dynamic. I felt better moving at my own pace and exploring my own interests, which led me to skating. That unfortunately ended at age 12 when I snapped my femur, leaving me immobile and stuck in a bed for five months. I was completely trapped for what felt like an eternity and it changed me. When I finally got back on my feet again I couldn’t sit still.
A few years later I got into rock climbing and photography. Limited to the local rock gym, and still living in Ohio, I started pouring through climbing and adventure magazines, dreaming of one day getting to climb on real rocks. It wasn’t until college in Ohio that I got the chance on a trip to the Red River Gorge. Seeing the towering cliffs jutting out of the canyon completely blew my mind. The climbing was stellar. Being out in the elements, opposed to a poorly ventilated gym with plywood walls, brought new meaning to climbing. After that I was at New River or Red River Gorge any time the weather would allow us to climb.
With photography, I wanted to land a newspaper internship in an outdoor/adventure mecca, like Utah, Colorado, or California. Unfortunately I ended up with two internships in Indiana. Long story short, I didn’t like being back in small, midwest towns. Living back in the heartland taught me some tough life lessons—most importantly, that I couldn’t live a stagnant life. I craved adventure and open road. Luckily enough, an internship at the Orange County Register in California took me out west. I still had a quarter left at school, but never went back, and finished my classes online.
It’s been five years since I moved to southern California and I’ve yet to get a real job. Instead, I freelance as a photographer, which means there have been some tough years financially. As a trade off, I live life on my own terms and get to travel whenever I want. I’ve hiked across a glacier in the Rocky Mountains of Alberta, done some multi-pitch climbing in Yosemite, spent days in the boulder fields and hot springs of the Eastern Sierras, slacklined over the glacial lakes in the High Sierras, and highlined on desert towers in Moab. Every area has a special place in my heart.
No matter how long I am gone on a trip, once I reach that second or third week back home at the computer, I start to lose my mind. There is too much of this beautiful world to see, and I have hardly scratched the surface. I am eternally thankful to the incredible world for being nothing short of epic. It may not be here forever, so do your best to get out and experience it now.
