Travels With The Bearded Man
In October of 2017…
I began a solo journey that would end up taking 20 months, covering well over 50,000 miles. My goal was to explore all of our National Parks in the lower 48 states and document my travels with words and photographs. In the end, I hiked well over a thousand miles, took 10,000 photographs and wrote 120,000 words. It was a labor of love and I consider myself incredibly fortunate.
Over the course of my travels, the most amazing comment I received (from many) was “I didn’t realize we had places like this in the United States.” Well…we do. And I encourage everyone to get out and explore. Take photographs and create incredible memories. The photographs on this site are my memories and I am grateful to be able to share them with you. I hope you enjoy.
On a personal note…
I am neither a sociologist, geologist, or botanist. I’m not a survivalist or naturalist. I’m not a preacher. I’ve slept in four Walmart parking lots and several Hyatt, Marriott and Hilton parking lots as well. I can teach you how to get a free breakfast in virtually any town. I can provide directions to dozens of libraries across the country. I’ve spent hundreds of nights in my van, in Oliver’s old comfy bed. I’ve slept under the stars enough to understand the beauty and grace of a moonlit or starless sky. I know the howl of a coyote and the smell of fresh earth. The gurgle of a wild turkey and the hissing notes of a barn owl. I know the throaty grunt of a rutting moose. I understand the small rustling in the underbrush. I’ve seen the chilly early morning breath of buffalo, the delicate pattern of an osprey’s wing. I’ve stepped over snakes and toward bull elk. I watched a grizzly sprint across a meadow in front of a serenely blue glacial lake. An eagle feeding her young. A pronghorn at rest in tall swaying grass. I’ve walked into deserts, forged rivers and sat beneath painted canyon walls. Many times I’ve peered over an edge into the abyss. I have stood on snowy mountaintops. I have recorded the voice of oceans, rivers, lakes and far too many creeks and streams to remember. Atlantic, Pacific, Missouri, Ohio, Superior, Michigan, Rio Grand, Snake, Colorado, Columbia, Gulf of Mexico, Bay of Fundy, Yellowstone, Crater Lake, Gulf of St. Lawrence. I climbed burnt sandstone and hiked into the heart of silent grasslands. I watched the sun rise above blistering sand and sink into a rainforest. I’ve watched in awe as lightning streaked through a black velvet night, and rain slanted across granite. I’ve dreamed of my beautiful son Oliver – tried to hold him for another moment as he fades into daylight. I have bolted upright, the hands of a nightmare around my throat. I have fallen and risen. I have fallen and remained on the ground. I am aware of being on an extraordinary journey. I understand there is not a special bone in my body. Not one. Like so many others, I have suffered loss. I am a simple man seeking a measure of peace, against a glorious backdrop. I am a man who loves his sons. A man who misses his son. This is what I know. Of what I am certain.
Please feel free to reach out with any questions you may have concerning my trip, or the parks, or baseball. Happy to reply.
LCSmith@TheMountCo.com.
www.TravelsWithTheBeardedMan.com
Follow on Instagram @TheBeardedMan59
