Jared Reigle

There's this cafe, nestled high in the Swiss Alps, maybe twelve kilometers from the Italian border. Nothing lavish, white washed walls, wood-framed doors and windows weathered from a century of brutish winds. It was late fall and I was young, maybe ten, eleven years old. There we sat, my family and I, inside this cafe. The smell of tart, fresh-baked, apple strudel filled the air. My hands being warmed by a large cup of Swiss-cocoa. I gazed out the frosted window panes and before us was this unending, opalescent canvas, the Alps. I remember playing in the drifts of powdery snow with my sister, and the bellowing of the Saint Bernard's drowning out my parents who were calling our names. This image hangs in my memory, sharp as if I were still there...

My whole life I've sought moments that will remain so vivid in one's mind that it removes you from the present for but, a brief time. I've trekked the Sahara, I've sailed the Pacific, I've adventured to parts many would say their God turned their back on. I live for the story, that elusive moment I have yet to capture. That moment that reveals the true beauty of nature and humanity. This is why I Travel Far.