This website illuminates my life and adventures. My longing for freedom has led me to over 2600 of the world’s 3978 provinces, to every country on earth and to the summit of the highest peak on each continent (thank heaven for good weather!). In my travels, I learned to respect the intelligence and ingenuity of people of all races and callings both past and present. Come see the world as I see it: as a peaceful place, full of nature and beauty. With the right spirit and intent, we can make our world a virtual Garden of Eden.
DISTINCTIONS: BBC 2017 Travel Pioneer • Journal Articles • Explorer’s Club Flag Expeditions
World Parks Project • Walk Across South America • Jeff Shea Travel Map
Philippines, Romblon Prov, Man With Tattered Clothes
Vietnam, Kien Giang Prov, Girl Bike -
Haiti, Ouest Prov, Refugee Camp
Slovenia, Krizevci Prov, Colt, 2006 -
Slovenia, Bled Prov, Castle
Argentina, Salta Prov, Night Sky Near Pueblo Cobres, 2010 - Here is the story of how I got to this place where this photo was taken. I was walking across the South American Altiplano.... An epic day, starting before dawn at the old houses below the cliff. I marveled at the cliffs of red with white tops and the white hill. The walk to “Quebrada Nest” –
I came to a sort of pass, the road was blocked off. With my humble block of cheese and bread and what little amenities I could pull out of my cart, I sat and had a repast. I filmed and photographed. Then I headed down to the left.
I simply descended down into the canyon. I was told to follow the playa, the beach! “Do you know what I mean?” the man had asked. “Ah, yeah, I know.“ He meant the riverbed. (There was sand and so forth.)
The road now became worse, with some portions washed out, as I was on a slope headed down to the 'playa', as far as I could tell, which wound south in a canyon not yet visible to me. As I neared the altitude of the canyon head, I stopped to take photographs of the tiny flowers in a tiny shrub, then noticing a little beautiful beetle feeding on the nectar, holding the flower cup with both front legs. What a wondrous world this is when we take the time to view it through a microscope. (In this case, the viewing port was my macro lens.) The day was wearing on and I knew I must hurry.
I made time along the riverbed. It was not exactly straightforward. The tire tracks and remnants of road wound right and left, split, hugged little walls of rock on one side or another, became invisible and reappeared, and sometimes I was required to roll my cart over little heaps of rock. This all seemed fine, but then I came to an area where to me it seemed impossible for a four-wheeled vehicle to pass. I studied the ground and could not quite figure 'the route', so I just dragged my cart as best I could over rough ground, over stumps of pampas grass, etc. There was some water as well in the streambed.
I also came to a place where there was a big rock to my right, and I had to pull my cart to the left. I stopped, looked back, took photos, then rolled over some ground too precarious for my cart, but got back down to the stream level again. I was now on the right side of the stream. The rocks became so difficult to pass that I filmed myself as best as I could maneuvering the cart, as I thought it was interesting and illustrative of the difficulties I faced.
As I continued, the going got so difficult, I was afraid that I was on the wrong path. I walked and I walked. It was beautiful. Now there was cactus, cactus just like in the cartoons or in the movies, a beautiful cactus. Somehow, the stature of a cactus gives it the appearance of a human being.
I began to see cactus everywhere. This 'tree' as it is quite tall, was all over, starting just in this gully. Prior to this I had not really seen it. I am not sure it is a cactus in reality. I say this because later on one man told me that there is no water in it. The cordón (the name of "cactus" I was referring to) occasionally had flowers, and I stopped to photograph one such specimen, balancing my way up above it on a slope in order to secure a photo, quite fascinated with its beauty. (I was told later that the cordón is not a cactus. They actually use the wood of it for building things like doors.) The shadows grew long.
I was hoping that I would come out upon Cobres, but this gully was going south and the mountain range I was trying to pass was above me to my east, meaning that I had not yet gotten to the side of the salar. I got past the difficult part of the gully and now moved quite quickly on relatively flat ground, but having to negotiate sand and the easiest way along the riverbed. The sky slowly became less light, then dark. Night closed in.
I came to some black donkeys. This signified there were probably humans in the vicinity.
I continued, wondering which way I was going, and when I finally turned left I decided I would wait until that wall of the mountain in front of me and I met. When I finally checked my compass-point, I was going southeast or south, which meant that earlier in the canyon, I was going south, or even southwest a bit. This concerned me. This concerned me because Cobres was supposed to be southeast.
Actually, the trail all day had changed directions. At first it went north, which kind of bothered me. But I realized that paths sometimes meander, just like my life. Sometimes, when I want to go someplace, I end up going in the opposite direction for a while. Funny, how that is.
By the time I got to the mountain in front of me, it was dark.
Indeed the road went to the left. I managed by headlamp for a little while. As twilight descended I continued to walk, trying to hurry, hoping I could make it to Pueblo Cobres. But alas, that was not to be.
When the road went into a sandy depression, surrounded on both sides by tall grasses, I became less confident I was on the right path. I came to a sandy area with a little wall of sand and rock on the right. I decided this was time to call it a day. I made a simple camp.
There were insects. I hadn’t really seen insects, except for little tiny beetles holding on to flowers earlier today. It was also warmer. I felt like I had gotten to some kind of a new climate. And like most nights, I had little energy to do anything else. I just threw my bag down, opened it up, crawled inside. I did cook a little bit.
I wanted to make a photograph, so I set up my camera on a rock and did time exposures. I got cozy in my new sleeping bag. I had a simple meal. And then I just went off to sleep.
Myanmar, Magway Prov, Magway Boat
Australia, Lord Howe Is, Balls Pyramid, 2001 - Balls Pyramid is a spectacular sight, a massive cliff jutting out of the ocean 1843 feet above sea level, making it the tallest such "stack" in the world. It lies 13 miles off the coast of Lord Howe Island, a possession of Australia. July 5, 2001 - Novi and I hung out in the airport from 845a till 1135a, when we boarded, along with a score of Japanese tourists, the plane for Lord Howe. When we landed, I could see that the island was really beautiful, picturesque. I asked a Pinetrees staff if they had rooms, and they did, so they led us to their lodge. I had read about this lodge in the TCC bulletins. Novi and I made love. I slept a little. At about 430p, I went out, while Novi slept. I rode my bike to the far beach, then ran, with some walking to Kim's Lookout. It was getting dark, but I decided to continue along the ride. I got to Malabor peak, and now it was nearing darkness. The moon was yellow and encircled by clouds. I let out a whoop, standing so close to the cliff's edge, I felt a little afraid. I saw the sign to Ned's beach, and I took it. I was concerned that it would not drop down to the side of the island where the settlement is, but, now it being dark except for the light of the moon and the airport, the trail finally dropped down. I stood there for a moment, soaking in the breeze, the moon, the clouds, the sound of the waves off of Ned's beach, the whole panorama of dark hills. I felt at peace. I soaked it all in and I envisioned a future world that I could help to mold, in which women could run free and naked, where there was much more love and much less frustration, where life was more like heaven and full of the mystery of the ages. I ran back to my bicycle and rode along the dark roads back to Pinetree. It was exhilarating. Novi and I dined in the dining room, after watching a bit of a performance by the resident musicians. Lani behaved herself very well throughout. After, we laughed, while I danced to "Besame Mucho" with Lani. We retired to our room after dinner. Novita and I talked and laughed in the dark. We made love before sleeping. July 6, 2001 - Today was a banner day. There are few days that are as full of excitement and pleasure as this one. After a not-so-good bfast, I went to call the pilot, but he was already on premises looking for me. He said he had already flown this morning and it was a bit choppy but we could go if I wanted. At 10a we went to the airport and donned our lifevests. We flew out the 12 miles to the Pyramid. Ball's Pyramid is truly one of the world's wonders, a "stack" jutting 551m out of the ocean. On almost every side it is a sheer drop from the top fo the ocean floor; nearly vertical cliffs!! We circled around it twice. I shot lots of photos. There was a rainbow to backdrop it to boot!! Just flying near it filled me with a sense of satisfaction. When we returned we flew to the south of Mt. Gower, around the island over the settlement and then touched down. Stan, the pilot, tipped the wings many times in order for me to get the appropriate photographs. I thoroughly enjoyed the flight, as did Novi. Stan asked us to his house for a coffee. The coffee was terrible, but the house was beautiful. He had redone the inside and outside of the house, the house having been inherited from his father. He said had chosen colors as follows: "I figured the sea did pretty good, the sand and blue of the water." The walls were a yellow and the trim a light sea blue. The floor was a resurfaced yellow cedar, which had so much patina to it, it looked synthetic. "What time is it?" I asked, looking at his watch, which said a quarter to twelve. "We've go to go!" I said; we were on our way to the glass bottom boat. We got a ride back to Pinetrees, went to our room for a minute, then we waited on the beach for the boat. The boat pulled up ten minutes later. Dean led the trip. It was interesting. He knew a lot about the wildlife, having been a ranger for 15 years here. He said there were 100 species of coral, but said there 500 on the great Barrier reef. The information I'd received so many years ago from the guy at Uepi Island who I went diving with seemed to be errorneous. He had said there were something like 47 species on the Great Barrier Reed. When it came time to snorkel, I went without a wet suit. It was brisk, about 19 degrees Centigrade. The dive was very lovely. There were corals everywhere. I also met what is probably a big puffer fish, hiding in a hole. There was also another hole in which there were many large fish. Back on board after about 20 minutes. Dean hammered on two sea urchin to reveal their orange interior, then tied them to the underside of the glass bottom. The fish, mostly small parrot wrasses, fed in quick succession, until the urchin had no more insides left. We returned to shore. I took a long hot shower. We enjoyed a hot coffee in our room. Then we went, under gray skies, for a picnic. We cycled as a family, Lani on my chest, to Ned's beach. There was no one there when we got there. I made a fire in the BBQ pit, and we roasted lamb chops and beef sausages. It started to drizzle, and we finished our blackened repast under the protection of the small shelter there. Then came some white folk, then a group of Japanese tourists. I went for a walk down the beach. Down the other end of the beach, I shot a photo of a mask-like face carved into the hard sand wall. I saw the man with the fish feed bucket coming and I scurried back. He threw gobs of leftover table scraps into the water, but virtually no fish came. The seas were too rough today, he said. Indeed the sea was rough, threatening and pounding its way in. Not long after, I resumed my walk down the beach. It started to rain hard, and I came back, partly soaked. Novi and I waited till the rain stopped. I stopped next to the BBQ pit, even though it was drizzling, without my shirt, just to feel its warmth. Not long before dark, we cycled back. We arrived around 515p. I showered again, a long, hot, lovely shower, soaking it in, reveling in its warmth.
India, Cremation, 1984 - In Varanasi (Benares), India, along the banks of the Ganges River, Hindus cremate their deceased relatives. Partially burned corpses were then tossed into the river. I read in National Geographic that people lacking money were relegated to disposing of corpses in the River without cremation. To my amazement, not fifty feet away from charred corpses, practitioners of Hinduism cupped their hands and put the water in their mouths. 
Philippines, Rizal Province, Egg Sales Girl, 2007