I managed to squeezed in a good 4 hours of sleep despite trying to discern the decibels of the wind gusts and determine if it was going to die down. Around 1:30am, the wind finally stopped. The moon was setting, excitement ensued. I tried sleeping for another 2 hours, but was wide awake by 3 am.

I swiftly got out of my sleeping bag and slipped on my winter jacket. There it was, the arc of the Milky Way. Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you. It was amazing stillness again, nothing but a dove’s call and not a hint of wind. I set up my camera and stared above at the vast expanse of stars, again proving my insignificance in this universe.

The forecast showed a low of 37F, which I didn’t think was too bad. It was actually 32F. My star tracker kept showing the low battery icon despite a full charge. My external battery had probably less than 10% so it was a miracle it lasted right up until the crack of dawn. By then my body was at the point of uncontrolled shivers. I finished the last exposures, quickly jumped back into the car and tossed both blankets over myself. I awoke at 6:53am, a minute after sunrise, to the first light on the Sierra and Mt Whitney through my windshield. What a feeling.

This trip embodied my philosophies to photography and life: no expectations, in search of novelty, it’s all about the shot, its all about the shot, and convenience isn’t free. It felt amazing to disconnect and just observe the world in front of you. Driving on new roads again shows how much of my own state I haven’t even explored yet. Now the only thing I can think about is when to go back.

The same feeling of excitement from the week before was still going strong in me. 1200 miles later, I’m still holding on to that feeling.