I have an affinity for older DSLR cameras.

My first full-frame was a Canon 5D Mk II, which I still shoot with on occasion. Beyond that, I’ve built up a collection of 15–20+ year old Canon bodies—XTi, XT, XS, 20D, 30D, and more.

It started as a teaching tool.

Every fall, I teach an intro to photography course. Instead of handing students the latest gear, I give them cameras I’ve picked up at thrift stores or on eBay for $10–$40.

And honestly? They’re perfect for learning.

I follow enough race organizers and events to know that social media often ends up last on the to-do list. And I get it. Permits, insurance, aid stations, course scouting … it’s a full-time job just to pull off race day. But if you’re pouring all your energy into the logistics and barely showing up online, you’re missing the easiest (and most cost-effective) way to grow.

Let me say it clearly: a good race is not enough anymore.

There’s something about shooting back-to-back gravel races that left me both partly exhausted and creatively lit up. I rolled back into Portland Sunday night after spending the weekend on the Oregon Coast shooting the Oregon Coast Gravel Epic and West Coast Gravel. Two races, two towns, one camera, a burrito-stained hoodie, and a tick embedded in my shoulder.

I shoot like I’m telling a story … because I am. That’s the goal: make a rider feel the race again when they see the photo. Make someone who wasn’t there wish they were (a little FOMO always helps).

It was Friday afternoon, and Nacho the Van was packed and ready. The plan? Head to eastern Oregon for a weekend of shooting photos at back-to-back mountain bike and gravel races. There was just one hitch. I was still crawling out of a weeklong flu haze. The idea of sleeping in my van with temps dipping into the low 40s didn’t sound too appealing.

So, I hit the easy button.