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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Mount Jefferson Revisited
By the time we reached the ridge near Coffin Mountain, the air had gone thin with silence, the kind of silence that makes you wonder if you’ve crossed some invisible line between the real world and whatever lies beyond it. Quartzville Creek had already worked its madness into our boots and bones. Mud on the… Read more
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The Koi and the Rain
“Let it roll, baby, roll…” – The Doors Ashland, Oregon. A beautiful little town with Shakespeare in its veins and a peculiar kind of madness in its trees. It was supposed to be a calm day, an aimless stroll through Lithia Park with my wife. Just a camera, a quiet garden, and whatever spirits haunt… Read more
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The Hummingbird and the Heretic
Through the Lens, Through the Madness Some places hum with history. Others growl. Thompson’s Mill was the latter, a ghost of industry, all rusted bones and whispering machinery, still clinging to relevance through the cracks in its wooden skin. A place built for grain and labor, long since surrendered to memory and the slow encroachment… Read more
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Half Dead GPS
We were somewhere around Coffin Mountain, on the edge of Quartzville country, when the trees began to close in. No trail markers, no plan, just a rattling tripod, a half-dead GPS, and a primal urge to find something real. That’s when we heard it… the hiss and murmur of water falling through the bones of… Read more
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Japanese Garden
I was lost in the Japanese Garden of Lithia Park, Ashland. Half-lost in thought, and surrounded by rocks that looked like they’d been arranged by a Zen monk with a grudge. The kind of place that makes you question whether you’re meditating… Or hallucinating. The water didn’t fall, it slipped, like a nervous whisper across… Read more
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Lost in Lithia
Somewhere deep in Lithia Park, Ashland where the trees lean in like old conspirators and the creek speaks in riddles, I found this little stretch of madness. The kind of place where the air tastes like moss and time melts like cheap whiskey on a hot dashboard. Snapped this shot mid-trip. Long exposure, slow shutter,… Read more
Nerdy Viking Photography 