Along the edge of the Siskiyou mountains in Southern Oregon is the Green Springs Highway. It links Ashland and Klamath Falls with a ribbon of a road that's been meandering through tall Pines since 1846. Officially knows as Oregon Route 66, it was originally blazed by Oregon Trail pioneers and later used as a stagecoach route.
After a long climb out of Ashland, near the summit, is the Green Springs Inn. Travelers park in the dirt and enjoy a meal on a sun-soaked deck. Across the lonely highway, up a dusty drive, there's a 70 year old cowboy, Terry and his lap-dog, Maggie. Both live in a small trailer, jam-packed with a lifetime of - some might say - junk.
University degrees are not important on this section of the Green Springs Highway. Nor are bank accounts, sun tans or hedge funds. Terry is living his dream.
Terry is living his dream.
Having the opportunity to photograph a special character like Terry was an honor. More importantly, the grace and gratitude he brought to our time together was humbling.
Here is his story.
As far back as I can remember, I was fascinated with the West. The cowboy life has always appealed to me. It started when I was a little kid playing cowboys and Indians. As I got older, becoming a cowboy fascinated me even more. I came to Oregon from London, England in 1975, moving to Jacksonville. I wanted to find somewhere better for my children. I also wanted to pursue my dream - making a living as a cowboy in the United States. It took me a long time, about 20 years of working various jobs. One of them was being a meat cutter. Then I became a blacksmith. Soon I was hauling horses then breaking horses. I was living my dream.