Image Maker: Jeff Hawe

Some days beeing a freelance photographer is rough going, other days it's smooth as butter. Jeff Hawe

The winter of 2012 marked my seventh year chasing and photographing the sport that for some people is life. Between Northern and Southern hemispheres I've packed in 10 winter seasons into that time. Countless days spent traveling icy roads and dreaded airports, days spent in uncomfortable boots, slogging a heavy backpack through the snow battling weather and mechanical setbacks.

This Is The Upside


A look back at some favorite images from the 2011/2012 season. GalleryPhoto Gallery

But I've had just as many days end with an ear-to-ear grin plastered on my face and a deep feeling of gratification in my heart.

So someone asked me what photography means to me. In my life I've chosen my board and camera over what could have been great opportunities or relationships; chose the freedom and clarity of crisp mountain air over the security of a settled life. I've found myself with my back against the wall more times than I care to count, but thankfully have always found a way to push on. Where I am at now has come with sacrifices. Freelance snowboard photography is a two-sided coin.

Traveling is awesome because it keeps things fresh. But when goes on month after month I start to crave home, and my own bed. With travel comes the excitement of meeting new friends, and creating memories with people is wonderful. But again, after a while new friends sometimes make me wish for just one powder day on home turf with my old friends.

Exploring new terrain, seeing what's out there to ride in some of the world's best snowboard destinations is so motivating. Pushing into the unknown in search of "bigger and better" is addicting, true adventure. Yet it is inevitable that things will go wrong. Because adventure doesn't usually start until something goes awry.

Deep winter in the mountains is mined with hazards. Having to be constantly on guard is mentally taxing, especially when the potential consequences for letting off for one second are so high. But when the action goes down it all becomes worth it. Seeing the world's best riders do their thing, live and in person, never grows tiresome.

Going from watching this kind of riding go down on the silver screen year after year to having a front row seat is a little kid's dream come true. Other than having to face the reality on a daily basis that I never really had a shot at going pro, this part of the gig has no downside. It is amazing, always, and I hope it forever will be.

My drive to shoot comes from passion for riding a board. One of the fringe benefits to this gig is the quality of the riding I get to do when I put the camera down and strap in. It's insane, even though the amount I get to ride these days is not what it used to be. I get quality, even when I don't always get quantity.

Being a freelance shooter means you are completely independent, and so have the freedom to work with whomever, and accept any invitation or assignment. It also keeps things interesting because I never know what's around the next corner, or when the next call to join and amazing trip or crew is going to come. The dark and frustrating side of this is financing an entire winter of shooting out of my personal coffers. Let's just say I am quite crafty with shoestrings these days.

All this can be summed into one point: photographing snowboarding as a freelancer is laced with challenges, some incredibly frustrating. But he reward of pursuing this dream and achieving it through blood, sweat, and tears is a good re-affirmation of my chosen direction. And how many people can truly say "snowboarding is my life"? I hope to still be saying it for many more years to come.