Thirteen days after 9/11, I left New York City and drove alone to San Francisco, where my family and I were relocating. It was a great experience--sometimes grim, sometimes exhilarating. In about ten days, I covered more than 4000 miles. I started a block from the still-smoldering World Trade Center site, headed into my beloved New Jersey down 1-95 to Washington, D.C. I continued on to Gettysburg, PA, then across western Pennsylvania, southern Ohio (where I befriended a wonderful private pilot who agreed to take me up in his Cessna 140 to get a few photographs of Serpent Mound), central Kentucky, St. Louis, and Kansas City before slanting southwest to Amarillo and the Texas Panhandle, where I lived briefly in the mid-70's and revisited the infamous Cadillac Ranch and the Big Texan Steakhouse.

I then proceeded through northern New Mexico, on to Mesa Verde and the Four Corners, north to Canyonlands National Park, across Utah and westward across central Nevada. I spent the last two days crossing the Owens Valley of eastern California before winding through Yosemite and on to the Golden Gate Bridge. This trip was made three years before I would become a digital convert--I worked with a great Hasselblad XPan, shooting dozens of rolls of transparency film in towns, cities, and fields. I was always mindful of being in the right place at the right time, often driving at night and catnapping mid-day to try to get the best results.

It was a very tense and subdued time in America, and I was questioned almost daily by people and by policeman or security officers still shaken by the events of 9/11.

These are a handful of my favorite pictures of some of my favorite places in America.