No One Death Flake is the Same

Daniel, his wife Hannah, and I just got back from shooting a wedding in VA beach. I’ll allow a moment for the reader to imagine the stereotypical beach scene: hot sand between the toes, the smell of sun tan lotion, seagulls, beer, rippling pecks and beautiful women, etc. I, in my own mind lusted for these very things when Daniel hired me on as a second shooter a few months back. It wasn’t naivete, I don’t think, more a mixture of successful resort advertising (picture a woman in Mexico emerging from crystal blue waters, her hair whipping back sending perfect beads of water into sunset behind her) and wishful thinking.

Now, imagine my dismay to find this separating me from my sacred oasis:

Yes, we nearly got stranded on I-81, stayed the night at a luxurious Quality Inn, and departed bright and early the following morning in the midst of a snowstorm to continue our journey. While trekking over the Blue Ridge Mountains on I-64, total accumulation mounting to something near twenty-six inches,  I told Daniel, “Man, I really don’t think we’re going to make it through this and get to the wedding on time.” His reply was something along the lines of, “Dude, we’re making it, we have to.” Jesus walked on water, Daniel drove on snow, likely with more valor:

It was worth it too. Take away all those aforementioned stereotypes about the beach and replace it with cold and a handful of new friends made at a great wedding, and you get a picture something like this:

Lesson learned: when you feel endangered… drive.  And don’t brake too hard.