Much has happened since I lost the vision in my left eye back in January. I have had many doctor visits and an MRI as one would imagine. The doctors predictions are not good. I will be totally blind sometime soon.

All I can do is continue to take care of myself as such as possible. There is no treatment, no cure or corrective surgery. I go though my day trying to get as much done as possible. At night when I try to empty my head and get some sleep, I hear the things my doctors have told me.

My life is as "unfinished" as anyone's. Until recently, as you have read (see "My Story"), I've lived and worked for the sake of others, fulfilling my responsibilities, to spouses, children, etc. My eyes are the most valuable things I have. I had in my youth, tests; IQ test, aptitude test. The results of those tests were all the same. I'm labeled a "visual mathematician". If there is any genius in me it is only useful if I can see. Losing an eye, is like losing a piece of my sole. I would rather just die or lose my manhood than live totally blind.

I had a show at Open Shutter Gallery from mid May to mid July, it went over very well. It was almost life changing. I also gave an hour long presentation on June 7th at Open Shutter. I came out of the closet regarding my damaged brain stem and how it most likely happened. Losing an eye is something they could all understand.

I no longer have to make up excuses or dodge questions regarding my inabilities. I just live the best I can.

I'm still active in the wilderness. I go there almost as much as before. I fall more. I come home looking like I ran into a barbed wire fence. People notice but don't say much or ask many questions. They know my story.

***

In early July, I went to Flint Lakes and Rock Lake. I went there by way of the Pine River Trail to the Flint Creek Trail, then returning to the Pine River Trail by way of the Lake Creek Trail. A 41 mile loop. I did it in 3 days. I think it was my limit of endurance. My pack weighed 50 lbs. The site of the destruction of the spruce trees was such heartbreak it pushed me along as fast as I could go. No need to linger and enjoy the scenery. I do believe a tree can have a soul, just much different than ours.

**Along the Flint Creek Trail as it passes Flint Lakes**

In just the last 3 to 5 years the mature spruce trees in the canyons of Flint creek and Lake Creek have gone from green to died. The bark beetle has decimated them. A photo I took in July 2013 of Moon Lake Falls, included healthy green spruce. That photo was on the cover of Durango Magazine's 2014 summer issue that commemorated the 50th anniversary of the Wilderness Act. Now in just three years all the trees around Moon Lake and the Falls are all very dead. Upon returning home, I've been vocal about how quickly the trees died.

**Photo taken 7-4-2013 Moon Lake Falls Photo taken 7-9-2016**

***

Next I went back to Vestal Basin. I camped next to Vestal Lake. I made the hike/climb over to Balsam Lake in Ten Mile Basin. An amazing emerald green water that is sadly lined with dying or at least very stressed spruce. Back at Vestal Lake I was above tree line. I photographed Vestal Lake along with the Grenadier Peaks. I often looked at Peak Three, reminiscing my 2 climbs and camps up there. The photos I am most proud of come from there.

It is now in full monsoon season. It's hard to stay dry.

In early August with the most powerful storms, I spent 4 days and nights at Ice Lakes. Though it only average about 3 hours a day without rain, it was very productive. There are no bad views for photography in and around Ice Lake area. There are 4 lakes if you include Island Lake. Upper and Lower Ice Lake Basins are large and some views extend for miles. Ice Lake can be "day hiked" and many visit during mid day. Early mornings, evenings and nights bought solitude to my stay at Ice Lakes.

***

In mid August 2016, I went to Lake Vallecito and El Dorado Lake in Weminuche Wilderness by way of Beartown. As usual, that time of year includes Monsoon Storms. As a storm was ending I climbed to the top of a small unnamed peak. On the opposite side of the peak it is straight down (cliff) 800 ft. to Elk Creek and the Colorado Trail. It was amazing how the storm broke up. As soon as the sun touch any rocks, plants or soil, mist would erupted. The sun was low in the evening sky. It lit up the white stone around me. It was one of the most beautiful scenes I have seen in a while. I took many photos. (see my gallery page of El Dorado photos) I told God verbally how great it is to still see. I expressed my hope to keep what sight I have left.

When I'm lying in my tent, waiting out a storm or at night before I fall asleep, I try to imagine a life without sight. Half my brain would have nothing to do. I have continual hallucinations now because part of my brain is bored with my blind left eye. The illusion appears like a hologram, 7/24, except when I'm asleep and for five minutes after I wake up.

Thinking about being totally blind is not something I can get a grasp of. I can't envision how I can manage the logistics of day to day survival. I have been trying to down size. I just had a garage sale. I wasn't able to part with some things hoping I can hike, snowshoe, work in my garden. It's a process, I have sold or thrown out much, but I know I'm only scratching the surface.

Sometimes I'm a bit angry. I planned on living as long as my parents, grandparents, uncle and aunts. The average lifespan with my genes is about 90+ years. The last 30 years of that 90+ years was to be a time for me to achieve my lifelong wishes. To work as an artist. To do something meaningful for my community and beyond. I have so many ideas, I would have no problem staying focused and busy.

***

On August 30th, I boarded the train to go into the wilderness again. Working as a tour guide was Stephen Studebaker, retired from a career with the Nat'l Park Service. He went from rail car to rail car describing his work history and his privilege of being a pioneer of the Continental Divide Trail.

Stephen, mid trip came back to the front of the car I was riding in and stared talking. I asked what local trails he had visited. I don't remember what his answer was because the first thing he spoke after the answer was,

" There is a photographer in Durango that makes our local mountains look like the Tetons, his last name is Martin and I can remember his first name."

I took off my hat and sunglasses, and introduced myself to him. He was equally pleased to meet me as I was please to be incognito and hear him speak so positively of my work.

I disembarked the train at Needlton. I'm back in the wilderness, a happy feeling, but also stressful. With what little abilities I have left, it is a dangerous place for me now. I headed north, trying to decide, should I go back to Noname Basin or, maybe to Ruby Basin, a place I have never visited, except a short drop into from the top of Noname that links to Ruby. The trail head to both are just about a hundred yards of each other. I chose Ruby with a nervous felling. It maybe above my ability now, but if I don't go there soon it will be impossible for me later. From studying maps and Google earth, I have a good idea what I'm into. There's a chance I won't be able to walk back out of this place. I will have to focus continually, like rock climbing without protection.

After a short gentle hike in the beautiful forest, the trail got very steep. In many places if it was any steeper it would be impossible to hold a footing even with the very best boots. At least the trail finding was a little easier than I expected. After about four miles I reached Ruby Lake. What an amazing first impression. A perfect green tint, complimented with golden brown colored dead fall trees looking carefully place on the bottom of the lake. I immediately went to work photographing. (see Ruby Lake in my gallery)

The view from the south end of the lake, looking north, had a perfect view of Animas Mountain. A large sturdy rock with many minarets and organ pipes. There was a soft light on the lake and mountain. I scrambled to ready my camera to catch that light.

After my shooting session, I crossed the southwest end of the lake to the north west end. I was required to cross talus half submerged in water. I realized my senses have faded some. With my trekking poles and boots off, sandals on, my missteps were not a big deal. This side of the lake was a very pleasant surprise. Many shady flat, smooth options for placing my tent. A log bench neatly placed. A great place to rest before a short strenuous hike up to the basin on the other side of the lake. Since the train drop off was at midday, I needed to spend the night, I was running out of daylight. With the accommodations it was no problem.

As the sun got low in the sky, I commenced photographing the lake and Animas Mountain. It went well. After darkest came, worries flooded in. This time my worries of my sight and my immediate dangers were set aside by my worries of my sons. Despite their diligence in striving to make a living, there are struggles that make their happiness illusive. To protect their privacy, I will skip the detailed. I will say this. The income generated by my assets that are consumed by my existence, would be more than enough to fill the gaps in their livelihoods. That along with my coming blindness, is enough to pray for death.

It is all bittersweet, as I think of any final outcomes. There, high in the Rockies, half blind, little sense of gravity, the deadly dangers are everywhere. That night, the smooth ground under my skinny sleeping pad let me slumber.

Morning sky was not so photogenic, I loaded up my backpack and headed for the basin. The trail was good but the basin was full of willow and talus. These are the worst if you struggle with balance. The talus consisted of boulder that were the size of buses down to 100 lb. stones. All rough, shape edged quartzite. I was like Indiana Jones at the site of snakes. I made the best of it, pitched my tent in a very small meadow, surrounded by my undesirables. Climbing to the top of a talus pile, I could see that the talus and willow dominated the basin floor for the next mile and a half. I could only stay here until the next morning. From that vantage point there was a lot of peaks to photograph. I could tell right away, I needed to make another trip there very soon. It's always like that, one trip is needed just explore the possibilities and another to complete the photo shooting.

I surveyed and shot until it started raining. After waiting out the rain, I decided I wanted to climb to the saddle of Pigeon and Turret Peaks. I was camped at 11,800 ft. elevation, the saddle was at 13,000 ft. elevation. I took my pack and water that total about 25 to 30 lbs., not heavy but gravity defining and headed out. Through the willows and over a tall talus pile. I have very poor depth perception now. I hopped or stepped to a boulder and it would be 6 of 8 inches lower than I thought. (that is what happen with one eye sight). I started carrying one trekking poles, using one hand to hold on to a boulder and in the other hand, the trekking pole to measure distance. What a down grade.

After passing the pile, I crossed Ruby Creek and started up the steep slope. At first it was just grass with patches of willow. About two thirds the way up the climb, I need to traverse about 50 yards of large talus. In the middle, as I was walking across a boulder with the steep uphill on my left side, out of my range of vision, my left shoulder bumped the boulder above the one I was standing on. I was tossed off the boulder I was standing on, twisting and flipping in air and surprisingly, in my mind I rather calmly thought that is my end. I fell at least 6 feet. Landing on shape quartzite with the velocity generated from just a six feet fall would split a head like an ax on a melon. About 2 percent of this talus field area was covered with a soft bed of sod and yes you guess it. I landed on my left side, on a patch of sod, just large enough for my body. I bounded one time but stay in place. I was dumbfounded.

The odds were so ridiculous for my entire body landing on sod, I couldn't wrap my head around it. I tried to continue on climbing but quickly wandered off course. I decided that I should abandon my climb. I slowly worked my way back to camp. On my way down, I found a place in my mind to store such a near death experience. When I got to my tent, I turned around and looked at the saddle again. My passion kicked in, I wanted the views and the photos. I filled my water bottle again, and headed up the mountain.

This time with total focus, I got to the saddle. The day was fading fast. I had a headlamp but after that fall I wanted to down climb with natural light. I'm really poor with balance in the dark. As I was assessing my time, I saw a herd of 18 mountain goats walking over to greet me. They were a polite group, I started shooting. I didn't get a shot as good as my "Goats and Grenadier", but the experience was grand.

After some shooting, I thought it was time to give them what they wanted, some salt. I was too dehydrated. I couldn't produce a drop of urine. I said my good bye and headed down.

With the darkness, immediately came the lightning and heavy rain. The lightning finally stopped but not the rain. I fell asleep knowing the next morning would not be fun.

In the morning I had to pack it up in the rain. I could feel the extra weight caused by my pack and everything in it being wet. Trail finding slowed my descent. The rain washed away all my tracks. I made it back to the Ruby Lake camp. I was there about an hour and the rain stopped and then the sun came out. I commenced drying out all my stuff. It looked like a yard sale. I decided that if the weather was good the next day, I would head down. I couldn't travel that steep trail in the rain.

Morning was dry, so off I went. Balancing down the trail was indeed a real challenge for me. Reaching the train flag stop, I cleaned up in the Animas River and put on my clean "train" clothes.

My son Ryan, met me at the train station. He informed me that my beacon messages were not received the day before. Thankfully they got the one I sent that morning or Search and Rescue was going to fly out to find me. It was all very distressing. I told him I would find out why he didn't receive my messages. Meanwhile I told Ryan, his wife Jen and Matt I would buy pizza for all, but they passed.

***

On September 11th, 2016, at 4:30 AM, I left my house headed for Beartown (for the 3rd time this summer) I got there at 7:00 AM. This time I went up the Vallecito Creek Trail, over Humpback Pass, then down hill. I dropped over 2,000 ft. I covered seven or eight miles, looking for a very minor "social trail" (social - meaning not mapped or maintained). I could look west and see I was about a mile beyond the bottom of Leviathan Creek, my destination. Frustrated, I decided I would just go another 100 yards and if I didn't see the trail, I would back track and see if I missed it somehow.

Then just a few more yards and a trail, marked by a cairn, that turned right (west). It indeed crossed Vallecito Creek. Then it went cold. I thought, God, another one of those. Looking around I saw an indentation on the ground about a foot wide going in the right direction for Leviathan Lake. The trail was covered with wild perennials, none of them flattened. What all this means is people used to go to Leviathan Lake using this route, but not for at least a year. Off I went with that uneasy feeling.

The Leviathan Creek Trail, brought back unpleasant memories of it neighbor just to the south, the Sunlight Creek Trail. What a discomforting day it was climbing that trail. A lot of time searching for the trail, all the while getting pounded by rain. Well at least the weather is dry this time.

I crossed Leviathan Creek and hiked about 3 miles. And then the trail was definitely at end. Visually, I know where I was, and I could see where I needed to go. I didn't need a trail and "off trail" hiking started easily by stepping on knee high flowering plant. Sadly though, I didn't get far and I was bushwhacking my way though thick willow climbing on talus.

Backpacking alone, to me is not solitude if you are on a trail. Following a trail while alone is like having someone with you saying, "Hey I know the way , just follow me." When you are alone off trail, the feeling of solitude creeps in. True solitude is something that some people never experience in their entire life. Solitude is hard for me to describe, it can be exhilarating, but rarely in present tense. After the fact, or past tense, it is sweet. So, what is it in present tense? It's the thought, "if I screw up there will be a price to pay, embarrassment, possibly injury or even death, ". In a world with 7 billion people and smart phones, to have real solitude, you must be beyond human contact and out of network, oh and no satellite phone. I think with an emergency beacon, you can have solitude because if you use it, you will at least be very embarrassed. Also with a beacon you reduce the possibility of someone getting injured or killed while attempting to find you.

And I'm there. To get to Leviathan Lake, I will have to cover almost a mile of the kind of talus I encountered to get to the Pigeon - Turret Peak Saddle. I didn't see any life saving sod either. Before my two strokes, I could dance on talus. Anyway, after pushing though the willow, I "baby stepped" for a mile over the talus.

I must have been in a time wrap. It seemed like I spent more than a day getting to Leviathan Lake, but I did it in 7 hours.

The Lake has the most beautiful water I have ever seen. A very clear aquamarine.

The banks are the most difficult to move about, of any lake I've ever visited. Very rugged, I guess you could call it. Also, it's a windy place, which ripples the water surface making photography difficult. Morning will be the best time to shoot. I spent the remainder of the day climbing around the lake in search of the best places to shoot from.

That night the wind really picked up, I put heavy rocks on top of my tent stakes. Sleep didn't come easily. The wind gusts would hit my tent with a roar that would wake me up. Even so, I got up early and the photo shooting went as planned. The water was smooth until about 10.00 AM. I got the impression that it would be the same if I stayed a day or 2 longer. I decide to pack it up and leave by noon, then maybe I could make it to my jeep before dark.

To make to my jeep on time meant I couldn't stop for a break or rest. Getting down the talus was harder for me than climbing it. It took me about 15 to 20 minutes to find the trail. I did rather enjoyed the difficultly and the satisfaction in locating the trail.

The last 4 or 5 miles were very painful for my feet. It brought back memories of how they hurt before I started taking a lot of supplements. Which begged the question, do I need to take even more supplements? How much longer can I do this backpacking?

In the middle of my pain fest, I came to a point on the trail, that climbs high enough to clearly see Storm King Peak and Mount Silex. I had stopped there 2 years ago on my return from Trinity Lake. I had more time on that trip when I passed this way. I stayed a while and did a time lapse and some photos. The trees were all green and healthy. The view now just shows the devastation. All the spruce are looking dead. I took a quick photo. I send out before and after photos to my contacts and friends that care.

Back on the move, I did my best to try to occupy my mind and not think of the pain. Both to and from Leviathan Lake was about 2,500 ft. elevation gain and loss. Not really that much compared to other trips I've taken. I got to my jeep in 7 hours as planned and was home by 9:00 PM

Photo News in 2016

The End of Open Shutter Galley, as a brick and mortar establishment.

Margy Dudley along with her husband Henry, started the Open Shutter Gallery in 2001, two years after they moved to Durango with their four sons.

Margy operated the gallery as a true contemporary fine art photography gallery. Works from many of the best photographers from all over the world were displayed and represented by Open Shutter. It was a place where a photographer could walk in at any time the gallery was open and associate with those that worked there or with other artists and those that had an appreciation for fine art photography.

The atmosphere was relaxed, and friendly, but the standards were high. To get a show of your work in the gallery wasn't easy, and thank God for that. It gave me one more reason to do my best work. It was something to reach for. There was never a smug rejection of your work, just friendly encouragement.

It was shortly after my 2 month show started at Open Shutter that Margy personally called me to inform me at the physical gallery will be closing and an office and an online presence will continue. I was sad to say the least and Margy told me she would continue to represent me. Though the benefits to Durango were endless, the gallery has been a lot of work and expense, all help was paid, with Margy shouldering all of that responsibility.

Bob Zahner has worked at Open Shutter from the beginning. An artist in his own right, and an integral part of what gave the gallery it's personality. Bob was the first to take a serious interest in my work.

Arista Slater - Sandoval was the last manger of the gallery. Arista, an MFA grad, works in alternative photographic methods and "constructed" images. Arista was a great help in preparing and managing my show.

I had dinner with Bob and Arista on October 19th. I hope I will see them often after the gallery closes.

ON A PERSONAL NOTE

If you read my story and my earlier blog, you know about my mother and my two sons. October was eventful with highs and lows. My mother's suffering came to a close as she passed away, on October 27th. About two years ago, I noticed that Parkinson's Disease was robbing my mom of cognitive ability. I was planning to visit her, before her condition got worse. Then I fail and damaged a disc in my neck. All I could do was talk to her by phone.

Some good news; in early October, my son Ryan and his wife Jen, both got good teaching jobs in Maui. They are living there now. My younger son, Kyle, got a good job in Dallas, using his finance degree. That happened on October 28th. If you are a father, the day all your offspring have "real employment", is a day to celebrate.

November 8, 2016- Today I had an appointment with my neurologist. She is still worried that I will soon lose my remaining vision. We talked about my need for a "3T MRI, along with a radiologist that is well trained in that new technology. I let her know that I'm willing to travel to get that. There is such a machine in Colorado, but the training isn't up to speed . Yes I've had a 1.5 MRI. It wasn't detailed enough to expose my problem.

When I got home I did an internet search. There may be a place closer but Massachusetts General Hospital has two 3T MRI's and they know how to use them. The training included understanding the differences in contrast compared to a 1.5T, and the increased micro detail. Knowing how to read a 1.5T doesn't mean you can read a 3T.

June 8, 2018- By this time I had hopped I would be back in the local high country photographing. Something happen last week, that has really thrown a wrench into the works. The Durango - Silverton Train started a fire and it is still growing. All of the residents of our beloved town are deeply affected by this disaster. This is huge financially and psychologically.

JUNE 5, 2018 PHOTO TAKEN FROM ANIMAS CITY MOUNTAIN. THE FIRE IS 10 MILES NORTH OF DURANGO

JUNE 7, 2018 PHOTO TAKEN FROM RAIDER RIDGE, DURANGO