Author: Tim LaBarge

Shadowy Future

I just overheard the boys, now five and three, chatting in the bath. “Jack,” Leo said, “dinosaurs are dead. People have never, ever seen them alive.” Saturday, while on a little adventure in The Columbia River Gorge, we found ourselves face to face with a ten foot long sturgeon named Herman. He’s the freak show… Continue reading Shadowy Future

Cyclocross: Alpenrose

Well they turned out in droves today for the first Cross Crusade race at Alpenrose Dairy. They negotiated the parking lot first. Then the check in. And then the real race began… Riders ran up the famed staircase, sprinted through the old-timey townsite, crept along the off-camber grass, bounced through bumpy pastureland and they finished… Continue reading Cyclocross: Alpenrose

The Heart

I was fine until I got about two blocks from the hospital. Suddenly I realized I needed to pull over and think. The slicing open of a man’s chest. The removal of a vein from his leg. The heart beating slowly. Very slowly. It wasn’t the first time I’d photographed open heart surgery. But there’s… Continue reading The Heart

Rapha Gentlemen’s Race

Many times throughout the day, riders asked me if I was doing okay. How was I holding up to the heat, the miles. Was I getting enough water. It was, after all, closing in on 100 degrees and the race snaked through the Coast Range for 123 miles and more than 6000 feet of elevation… Continue reading Rapha Gentlemen’s Race

Post Pickathon 2010

Langhorne Slim at Alberta Street Pub on Tuesday night Every year, something unplanned seems to happen a few days after Pickathon that brings a few folks back together to share a hug, a beer and some stories. Last night, Langhorne Slim and Woody Pines showed up at Alberta Street Pub and cranked out some tunes… Continue reading Post Pickathon 2010

Carthage

Near Three Creeks Lake. The color of wheat, with deep brown eyes and a tiny black nose, a tough little street puppy found us one late night in Carthage, Missouri. She had worms and fleas and no home. That was thirteen years ago. She made us whole ever since. You may have known her by… Continue reading Carthage

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Summer of the Fish

First fish. Timothy Lake on Mount Hood, Oregon We’ve already spent a good chunk of these summer days out camping somewhere in the Cascades. Mount Hood, the Metolius River, the McKenzie River and two different Clear Lakes. The driving force and unexpected thrill of all of this has been watching Leo, 4, dive into fishing… Continue reading Summer of the Fish