Damn! The Google Gods have frowned on me. I dropped to hit #11 for world’s best wedding photographer! And now I’m on the dreaded second page. What have I done, what have I done?

Just finished up with Amy and TJ’s awesome wedding, which took place all over Estes Park — from Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park all the way to Lilly Lake to the Taharaa Lodge. Amy was super psyched to get cool mountain scenery in the background, so I had a lot of fun going to some of the most picturesque areas in my hometown. Fun stuff!

I noticed during their wedding that they had an album on their welcoming table that was filled with images of them all over the world. Well, not images of them really, but images they’d taken of their feet. In sand dunes, on beaches, in jungles, etc. etc. Hawaii, Asia, throughout the Rockies, etc. So I figured, hey, I have to get a picture of them taking pictures of their feet at their wedding. Right? I mean, why not? So I took some shots of them taking pictures of their feet, and then I also took pictures of their feet (see below).

Congrats, Amy and TJ! It was an honor to be a part of your wedding day!

I’m sure anyone who was hiking around Sky Pond a few Mondays ago would have seen me and my buddy Chris halfway up the Petit Grepon looking like a couple of uberdorks. So if you were out there, yep, that was me up there. The guy in the white tightpants. Actually, Chris didn’t look like an uberdork, but he was guilty by association. Here we are:

The Petit, in contrast to the two of us, is absolutely not uberdorky. It’s one of the classic climbs in North America, according to a book called, “The 50 Classic Climbs of North America.” Imagine that! You’ll have to excuse the terrible photos I’m going to post — I actually don’t own a modern point-n-shoot, so we dug a 7-year-old relic out of the closet.

Anyway, behold! The Petit!

Of the two biggest formations, it’s the one on the left that narrows down to a knifeblade toward the summit. So awesome. We hiked up there at 8 pm the night before so we didn’t have to get up at 3 am, and we slept out beneath the Perseid meteor shower. Check out this defaced photo with the route up the South Face traced in red…

So we woke up at 6 am, ate what should have been called a ‘cherry bomb’ (some sort of cherry custard coffee cake concoction) hiked up to the base, racked up and charged. Mom, you can skip the rest of this paragraph. I got to lead the first pitch, which as you can see went for about 600 feet. We simulclimed to the first belay over pretty easy 5.5 terrain with a few moves of 5.7, which made things go quite fast since we didn’t have to belay each other. Basically we both climbed at the same time on opposite ends of the rope. I still placed gear, but Chris’ bodyweight acted as my belay instead of his hands holding a rope through a belay device. I eventually ran out of gear so I built an anchor and belayed Chris the rest of the way up, where he reracked, and led off. We were both getting worked by the cherry bomb, but no matter. The second bit was sustained 5.8, so we made a real pitch out of it. The last two should have been strung together as a long simulclimbing pitch, but it wandered too much and the rope drag was a pain. But we were still at the top by 8 am. Pretty cool way to start the day.

Observe the uberdork on the way to the summit and on the summit:

What makes the Petit Grepon so rad is its last pitch and its summit. As you climb up that last section, you eventually find yourself on the knifeblade. It’s about 8 feet wide or so. On your right is a not-so-steep 5.7 face that goes 900 feet to the ground. On your left is a vertiginous, overhung valley that’s another 900 feet straight down. Like, if you dropped a pebble off , it wouldn’t hit the wall on the way down. Then you top out onto this little itty bitty summit that’s no bigger than a minivan, and it overlooks a lot of stuff up there. Way cool. You can see us waving at our shadows in the next pic, and then you can see me rapping off. It’s 4? 5? 6? I forgot double-rope raps all the way to the ground. Couldn’t be easier. Up and down by 9 am. Is verrry niicce!

Okay, this cracks me up. Sorry to toot my horn, BUT… I was poking through my site stats and apparently Google thinks I’m one of the world’s best wedding photographers. If you type worlds best wedding photographer into Google, Dreamtime Images shows up as hit 8. Hey, I’ll take it. Thanks Google!

UPDATE: I just moved up to hit #4! I wonder if I can get to hit #1.

I wanted to post a few pics of Paul and Kelly’s wedding, which I shot recently in Rocky Mountain National Park outside my hometown of Estes Park. They had a pretty mellow ceremony and they picked a sweet location in the Alluvial Fan area near Endo Valley. The waterfall behind them was loud, so they rented a small battery-powered PA and put it behind a tiny pine tree. It worked really well. All the guests found seats on the rocks in a small natural amphitheater and listened to one of the most genuine ceremonies I’ve ever heard. It was way cool. Their ring bearer was their beloved dog Spanky, who came up with the rings attached to a carabiner on its collar. Spanky also signed a paw print on the marriage license witness line, which is legal in Colorado. How cool is that?

Alicia and I have been kicking around the idea of getting a dog for a while, so we cruised down to the Denver Humane Society and looked around. We almost came home with a neurotic, bug-eyed Boston Terrier named Rader, but instead we brought home a mellower pup who’s part Basenji. The Basenjis — which translate to ‘bush things’ — must be part feline, because they walk, run, play and groom themselves like cats. Pretty cool. We named him Toots because we were listening to a Toots and the Maytals song on the way home (a John Denver cover, actually, but no matter) that went, “Take me home to the place where I belong.” Then, as if to seal the deal, the dog started farting. Or ‘tooting,’ if you will. So Toots became his name.

Then when we got back to Estes we drove to our first house! We closed right before we went to the Humane Society! So we’re now in the process of moving, which is becoming an epic, but we’re super excited. The home is perched up on the side of Prospect Mountain overlooking part of the Estes Valley, and it’s got a great hot tub on the porch for those cool winter evenings. Our home inspection missed some problems with the place, which became way too apparent once it started raining really hard (which it hasn’t done in months). Basically the roof leaks. So do some windows. So if anyone out there knows much about composite roofing and window reframing, give me a shout. This week we’re going to be doing home repair 24/7.

Anyway, as Toots wandered around the house, it became apparent that he hasn’t had much of a chance to get out much. In fact, we think he’s afraid of heights; the other day he freaked, jumped off the staircase and headplanted in the middle of the living room. Not good for a trail and crag dog, but he’s an athletic little dude who will probably learn to deal pretty quickly.

I wish I had pictures, but right now I don’t. Stay tuned!