Josh Ulrich

From the snow covered peaks of the Pacific Northwest and the sunny coast of California, to the grass

09/11/2022

Last day at Art in the Park at Julia Davis in downtown Boise. Come check out my new prints. I'll be here from 10 to 5. Booth 104 just off of the main walkway.

08/06/2020

Lighting the way. The hard crust of snow crunched beneath our feet, rhythmically breaking the silence. Darkness slowly began to fade. The warm glow of sunrise cut through the foreboding silhouettes. Snow covered giants awakened before our eyes. The mountains were full of life.

We set down our packs, shed our damp outer layers, and stowed our headlamps that had guided our way. The path forward was now lit by the rising sun. All lines led to the mountain, from the sharp fissures in the snow to the deep chasms of the crevasses, they all pointed towards the summit. The only thing left to do was to climb.

Pictured Mount Baker from the Coleman Glacier. We hit the trail in darkness at 2 a.m., pushing through the night to reach the summit in the early morning.

08/04/2020

Rolling the Dice. Thunder bounced off the walls, echoing off the peaks, surrounding me in the powerful performance of nature. My body quaked, not from the storm clouds above, but from the relentless shiver that ran down my spine. Tucked below the headwall I fought to stay warm, outmatched by the unforecasted storm.

The summits were within reach. All I had to do is hold tight, I reassured myself, this too shall pass. I counted the minutes. Thirty minutes turned into an hour, an hour into two. The fire inside slowly faded along with the last bit of warmth trapped beneath my clothes. I was beat. The clear skies were not returning as promised.

I shook out my legs, brushed off layers of fresh hail, and glanced upwards for one last look. Turning downhill, I threw in the towel. The crack of lightning cut across the sky, lighting up my face. The mountains roared with victory. I will be back soon enough, and next time the joys of the summit will feel that much more rewarding.

Pictured Mount Church and Donaldson Peak. I hunkered down at the base of the headwall at the center of the picture, protected from the elements and rock as much as possible by an alcove off the main route.

07/29/2020

Falling into Place. The world laid at my feet. In every direction, I saw opportunity. A faint idea of epic adventure gradually solidified in my mind, taking over my thoughts, branching out into every corner of my consciousness. “What’s stopping me,” I thought.

The jagged ridgelines below created a treacherous path, but a path nonetheless. I would do it, I will do it, sometime, if not this season the next. Resting my weary legs, new energy boiled up from within. Ideas led to goals, goals to ambition, and ambition to passion. The time had come to start planning my next big adventure, one in which I would cross the entirety of the range that lay before me. It was time to embrace the excitement and start planning. The Lost River Range holds a wealth of beauty and I cannot wait to see everything it has to offer. The only thing left to do was to start and then let everything fall into place.

Pictured Mount Idaho from atop my perch on Sacagwea Peak.

07/28/2020

Off the beaten path. Snow crunched beneath my feet. The path led to the right, towards the familiar, well-travelled trail downhill, back to civilization, back to the comfort of my camp. I stood at a crossroads. In the moment of solitude, the voice of curiosity began to grow louder. “Just go take a look, there is plenty of life left in your legs,” encouraged the voice. “You don’t want to live a life of what could have been.”

I did not need much persuasion. Giving in, I set my eyes on the path less travelled. The rough ridgeline dove downwards covered in a maze of crumbling rock. The route forward was unknown, but the destination was set. Sacagawea Peak sat atop its steep, sharp pedestal defiantly called my name.

Pictured A view of Mount Borah from a much less captured angle, atop Sacagawea Peak in the Lost River Range.

07/15/2020

Returning Home. Leaping upwards I felt lighter than air. Without the burden of my heavy pack renewed energy surged through my once tired legs. I had left the troubles of society miles away. Worry, frustration, and fatigue dripped away with each bead of sweat falling from my brow. As my hands pulled upon the rough granite, I felt the soft familiarity of the green lichen under my fingertips. Solace rushed through my veins. Taking one deep breath, I took in the crisp smell of the forest. I had returned home.

08/21/2019

Through the darkness.”Bzzzzz…..Bzzzzzz,” my phone vibrated against the cold mattress. Turning over, I looked at the time in disbelief. “3 a.m. already, ugh,” I mumbled to myself. I hesitantly reached over into the shadows, nudging the silhouette next to me. “It’s time to roll out,” I assured her. I quickly fumbled through the motions, still half asleep, grabbing my belongings scattered around before hopping into the truck bed below. My gaze was met by two sets of sharp, glowing eyes, cutting through the darkness, burning brightly in the reflection of my headlamp. They were ready, they were always ready. With a dull thud, the tailgate swung down. The chilling eyes brushed against my sides, leaping forward into the soft glow of moonlight. Before they hit the ground, they had transformed into two loyal companions. With a quick swig of coffee, I threw my heavy pack over my shoulders, and looked towards the moon, waiting for it to guide our way through the darkness.

08/20/2019

Last Light. Stillness quietly covered the valley with its calming solitude. The warm mountain breeze dissipated, pushing westward towards the dimming sun. Silence was left in its absence, quietly sinking into the valley, lulling everything into a gentle sleep. Exhaustion had caught up to me, miles of mountainous terrain in the hot summer sun had taken its toll. “Just a quick break” I assured myself, as I sat down along the water’s edge. My eyelids gradually grew heavier while I watched the ripples of water fall asleep, disappearing into the lake below. Dreams slowly merged into reality. My imagination wandered into the smooth, glassy reflection of red alpenglow towards new adventures. The last light had lured me in.

08/15/2019

Morning Glow. The soft, golden rays of light climbed down the mountainside, awakening the valley from its slumber. Morning cut through the trees and began to paint our shelter from top to bottom in delicate pastels. The jagged peaks and rocky ridgelines quickly changed character from their dauntingly difficult tone in the darkness, to an inviting adventure playground bathed in its new inviting hues. Shaking off the remnants of cold, Rogue and I quickly packed up and walked into the warm embrace of sunrise. It was time to explore all of the beauty that awaited us in the valley below.

08/13/2019

Waiting for Warmth. Dark, monstrous clouds charged across the night sky, devouring the soft glow of the moon and the twinkling stars. We were thrown into darkness, no longer able to differentiate trail from the rocky terrain that surrounded us. The dim light from my headlamp peered over the edge into a deep black void. Our decision was made for us; it was time to retreat. Shadowy figures danced down below, waving us onward into their warm embrace. The trees whipped back and forth, but remained strong, protecting our temporary home, a jagged alcove cut into the mountain side. Tonight, was going to be a cold one. The warmth of our sleeping bags gradually overpowered our shaking bodies. “Just a couple more hours,” I whispered to Rogue, as we fell asleep waiting for the sunrise to wake us with its warmth.

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Boise, ID

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http://josh-ulrich.com/

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