Living in a city is full of noise. Beeps, honks, sirens, birds, people… you name it, a city has a sound for that. Well, almost. What a city doesn’t have is a sound for silence. To seek that, we packed our backpacks, sleeping bags, a few meals, and headed out to the woods for a weekend get away.

In this photo essay Dalton Johnson documents Ryan Lynch hand shaping a surfboard from a blank. Documenting the process of how to make a surfboard from start to finish, this photo essay shows the beauty of the hand made process. If you are curious on how to make a surfboard, this photo essay will give you a look behind the curtain at how to make a surfboard.

As a kid, I had two dreams. First, to play a sport in college. Second, see the world. The outtake above is from a childhood conversation I distinctly recall as a kid. As an avid lover of the History and Discovery channel, I have always been blown away by this planet, the diversity of landscapes, and the endless adventures. With curiosity often at the root of my adventures, I have taken this mindset into adulthood.

We came to Indian Creek on a week-long climbing trip, but mother nature had other plans. It was our third day of the trip and we awoke to a full-blown snow storm. We went to bed watching the sunset over the red landscape, only to open the van doors to a winter wonderland.

After a three day digital detox in Joshua Tree National Park, void of vibrations and pings, penning a note felt like the perfect way to continue the slowed down lifestyle and show some gratitude for time well spent with good friends. Pulling a pen from the drawer, tearing out a blank sheet from his notebook, and sitting down with a fresh cup of coffee, Dalton Johnson shares the story of a weekend adventure.

Sucking it up, I put my big boy pants on— mainly to avoid being left behind by Kristin—and head to the hot spring. It was my first time here, I didn’t know what to expect and I was blown away. The landscape was cloaked in a orange glow as the light danced down the mountains and across the fields in the distance. Staring out from the warmths of the hot spring, I was proud that we persevered.

Rewinding one calendar year, to September 2020, I was slouched and red-eyed, staring at google earth dreaming up ideas, such as climbing notable peaks in a single season in three different mountain ranges like the High Sierra, the Tetons, and the Cascades. All of these ranges have a lifetime of climbing within them, so I knew I would be a guest, cherry-picking the classics, but I still wanted to give this a try. So, I started training. As the plans for the trip developed and I connected with past climbing partners, like Luan, Beau, and Kristin. I started to get psyched, but felt a void.

Two days later, I pedaled away from the hostel the man at the airport had suggested. Winding through the city streets of Christchurch, I was eager to make it to the main road that circles New Zealand’s South Island. Upon arriving at the T, I asked myself, “clockwise or counterclockwise?” For the first time, I had a hunch that I knew what I was doing. Feeling confident, I recall thinking, it’s the second half of summer, I should go south now, so I am in the north for the fall. So, I went right and pedaled along the coast, embracing a freedom that I had never known before.

A micro-adventure is a mindset and physical outing directed to exploring. Since these are small, most micro-adventures will happen in your backyard, wherever that be. Now, some people will be luckier than others because of where they live, but even a city-dweller can have micro-adventures. The goal is to change your perspective on your current life situation and push yourself to go. Most of the time a micro-adventure will leave you asking yourself, “why would I ever do that?” The answer is “because it sounds like fun… kind of.”

In 2016 I took a leap of faith, bought a plane ticket to New Zealand as a graduation gift to myself for finishing college, and cycled around the South Island of NZ. Without a plan of action, all I knew was that I needed some time to sit with my thoughts and process as much as I could during that time. Sixty-two days is a long time without music, internet, social media, etc. but I can say, 62 days went quickly and wasn’t enough time to unpack the 24 years of living I had experienced. Getting caught up in the social conditioning of America is a road map to safety. Well, being safe isn’t living, and I wanted to live. While pedaling through rainstorms, almost sliding off roads, and sharing cookies and tea with strangers, I started to feel alive.

Upon finishing the week long VLOG challenge, I am very excited to say that I completed the challenge and have been continuing with videos. They are fun to make and share with you all. Providing a glimpse into vanlife, a career of photography, and the long term value of living an engaging life.

After a little mix up, @cbeaumartino and I met up in the buttermilks just outside of Bishop, CA for some climbing. While waiting, the morning was quite productive as I worked on a blog about cool camping spots in the Eastern Sierra.

Quite honestly, I would not have guessed when I made my business official (aka got a business license and started paying taxes under the business name "Dalton Johnson Media") roughly three years ago, that I would be photographing a campaign for @fordbronco or @outwardboundusa anytime soon. Realistically, I just wanted to pay my way by shooting odd jobs here and there to fuel my adventures. I really never had a list of dream clients, nor did I care to reach out to clients. While some of that has changed, my focus remains the same. I am here to live my life in accordance to my own view of success.

Over the last year, I have focused on climbing more than ever before. Taking trips from Joshua Tree to the Tetons to the Buttermilks to Yosemite. Throughout that time, I have been able to meet tons of people who've showed me what dedication to a craft truly looks like. For the most part, climbing is a selfish pursuit, but a pursuit that is totally meaningless. Quite honestly, nobody cares who gets to the top of a boulder, crack, mountain. Sure, we may highlight the story within a community, but there really isn't much to be said about playing on rocks.

Our thighs were burning as we tromped up Keasarge Pass to gain our first view into Kings Canyon. All three of us have explored different sections of the Eastern Sierra and JMT, but none of us had been to this area. To avoid the burn, we diverted our attention to the "What do you think is over there” game, trying to see who could paint a better picture of what was on the other side of the pass. Turns out, we were all wrong.

The real question is, “When was the last time you were upset after relaxing in a hammock?” As summer approaches and daylight extends well beyond that of a 9-5 job, what better way to spend your evening than in a hammock, maybe with a book or journal. For myself, living on the road my work hours are all over the map, but whenever I can find a place to hang a hammock and take in the view, I am in my happy place. Below are four of my favorite spots that I have hung a hammock.

When I first sat down to write this blog, I wanted to express the beauty and elegance longboarding holds. Erased line after erased line, the string of words could not match the self-expression and feminine endearment longboarding requires. My ego and masculinity wanted to force together words, hoping to create prose. Instead, I was faced with a challenge, similar to that of riding the nose or cross-stepping, to surrender.

Dalton Johnson seeks to answer the question, "Where does freedom live?" in his latest video from the UT desert. He spent a month climbing, canyoneering, and trail running around Moab, Utah. The visuals all come from the surrounding areas of Moab. In this project, Dalton visited Indian Creek, Arches National Park, and Canyonlands National Park.

My name is Dalton Johnson and I am a wanderer with a camera, a pencil, and paper. Now, that may sound vague and entice you, but please understand, that means most would consider my days to be quite long and boring. Often you can find me by a river contemplating, dangling from a rope on the side of a cliff, struggling to breathe as I swim in alpine lakes, or walking for hours without an endpoint. The reason I am writing this letter is to spark your curiosity, foster your nurturing gifts, and to encourage you to spread your love.

We all have 24 hours in a day and you can choose to spend those hours however you wish. It does not matter if you work a 9-5 or live in a van. We are the creators of your schedules. We are the puppet master pulling our strings. Our actions are ours alone. Why not embrace the traveler’s mindset and get the most out of your 24 hours?