The Playground

Ever since I was a kid I’ve been drawn to high points. In my early years, the big snowbanks around our house and the road that angled a few degrees down to the lake were enough.

Not only did these familiar playgrounds keep my friends and I occupied for hours, but in the process we learned how to ski. Eventually we discovered the local ski hills, with rope tows, T-bars and groomed runs. These were only slightly bigger high points, but they felt like massive slopes at the time.

In the summertime, just when mountain biking started to be a thing, we stripped our little bikes of unnecessary details like fenders, lights and reflectors — everything to make them look like real mountain bikes. In this case, the short trails through the neighbourhood forest served as the playground on which we built jumps everywhere. There wasn't a need to go elsewhere to get a buzz; our world was small, but the local trails were more than enough. Especially when it seemed we found something new to catch our attention every second week…

Over time, my playground inevitably grew, and for the last 25 years I've had the privilege to travel the world with my skis, bike, camera and notebook. Even though I still feel that playing outside has been – and still is – the best way to explore the world.