Mount Shasta California, November 2009.
“wow, look at that hand.” “I love the photo of the old woman or old mans hand on the steering wheel.”
A couple of the comments I have heard about this photo. There is such mystery around it, and the feeling is a melancholy romantisim, sure. The truth is its my hand, at 25, driving a dump truck on the slopes of Mount Shasta.
Always seeking the new, upon returning to California, after spending the last 7 months in south east asia, I was invited to work with my God Father Joe McNally, and his Partner John Wayne Strauss or known in the buisness as Bambi. It would be my job to drive the dump truck around the mountain to the remote locations where the trees where cut, they would be thrown in 5 at a time by Carlos, Kiko, and Sal. I would pop the truck into gear and creep along the slope hoping not to tip over, hoping that the manzanita doesn’t puncture the tires. With the truck briming with silver tip trees, I would make my way back to the landing spot, where the bailer was. Down there, at 6,000 feet, would be the mounds of all the other loads, 10 feet high 15 feet long, condensed blocks of trees.
This was not forever, “it was like fishing in Alaska”, I would say. The truck was old and I was young, This photo taken on our last day on the mountain, getting what we could of the trees we already cut, 7,000 in total. With the first snow of winter, our last day of harvesting.