Mountains are calling & I must go! Let’s wander where the Wi-Fi is weak & the trails are steep.
Adventure awaits!
Jason Roberts is a photographer who threw himself back into the art like a man escaping a burning building. No plan, no roadmap, just a camera and a hunger for something real. Oregon is his stomping ground: mountains that bleed into the sky, rivers that rage like drunk gods, and ghost towns crumbling under the weight of time. That’s where his lens points, not at the polished, the staged, or the safe, but at the raw nerve of the world.
Roberts walked away from photography once, swallowed by the static of daily life, but he came back swinging. The camera became his weapon and salvation, a way to wrestle order from chaos and bring back proof that the wild is still out there kicking. Every shot is a field report: lightning storms stitched over the Three Sisters, deer skulls strung up in hunting camps, forests whispering secrets in the dark.
Through Nerdy Viking Photography, Roberts keeps driving down back roads, chasing storms, and crawling into the forgotten corners of the Pacific Northwest. His work is part survival note, part love letter, part battle cry. A reminder that beauty isn’t gentle, it’s feral, and you have to step off the map to find it.
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Through the Lens, Through the Madness: Shaniko The Ghost Town Gambit
There’s a certain insanity to driving out into the Oregon high desert after you’ve just conquered a mountain. Iron Mountain was still rattling around in my bones, my lungs lined with the dust of alpine wind, my brain fried on star-saturated delirium and yet here we were. Plotting a beeline for Shaniko. Population: questionable. Sanity… Read more
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“Eighteen Years of Controlled Chaos”
Somewhere between the screaming newborn and the eye-rolling teenager, my daughter turned eighteen, a full legal adult in the eyes of the law, and a walking, talking chaos agent in the eyes of her father. This is the age where the world says, “You’re free now!” and then immediately hands you a stack of bills,… Read more
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Volcanic Rage
Somewhere near the edge of sanity and definitely on top of Iron Mountain, I found this godforsaken chunk of volcanic rage jutting out of the planet like the fossilized spine of something older than sin. I was running on no sleep, too much coffee, and the distant howls of whatever the hell lives beyond the… Read more
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Writing Prompt 8/5
Describe one habit that brings you joy. There’s a habit, a ritual, really that keeps my brain from boiling over and my bones from turning into museum artifacts. It isn’t meditation, yoga, or any of that soft-focus wellness nonsense they peddle to suburbanites. No, my joy comes from something far less dignified: grabbing my camera,… Read more
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Cosmic Brawl
On top of Iron Mountain, the night didn’t just fall, it swallowed us whole. The stars were a riot, a full-blown cosmic brawl, spraying light and fire across the black like some deranged painter on a bender. Shooting stars sliced through the void, each one a brief, burning insult to the darkness. My boots were… Read more
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Just Maybe
Somewhere halfway up Iron Mountain, the air thinned and the world took on that strange, fever-dream clarity that only comes from mixing exhaustion, altitude, and the gnawing suspicion that reality itself is held together by spit and rusted nails. The Three Sisters loomed out there on the horizon, cold, black-hearted monarchs draped in snow, grinning… Read more
Nerdy Viking Photography 