June 1, 2026
The road begins
Before Molly
Over the past year, a lot has changed.
I stopped selling my photography through two galleries. I built a campervan by hand. (Well… it’s still not completely finished, but it works.) We adopted a puppy named Molly. And together, Molly and I are about to start wandering back roads, coastlines, mountain towns, forests, deserts, and quiet places in search of light, photographs, and stories worth bringing home.
But before I can tell you about Molly, I have to tell you about Maddie.
We rescued Maddie years ago when we lived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, then brought her with us to Botswana, and eventually here to California, where she spent the last seven years of her life. Her full name was Queen Madagascar Feathertail, though mostly she was just Maddie — the sweetest, gentlest dog imaginable, who traveled to more places than many people ever will.
Early this year, we had to let her go.
A vet once told me, “We owe our animals three things: a good home, good food, and a good death.” The first two are easy. The last one is the hardest — and the most important.
Maddie could no longer go on walks with Michelle. She was in pain. And while we would have given anything for more time with her, we let her go tenderly, peacefully, and with love.
Afterward, the house felt impossibly empty.
Michelle was adamant that we shouldn’t get another dog. She retires next year, and we want to travel the world. “We just can’t have a dog,” she said.
As the saying goes: man plans, and God laughs.
A few weeks later Michelle texted me a photo and asked, “What do you think of this dog?”
I said, “She’s really cute.”
What Michelle was actually asking was: “Can we keep her?”
Two days later Molly was sitting in our living room, and Michelle was bouncing on the couch like a five-year-old getting ice cream while I said, “Okay… yes.”
Molly is six months old now and learning everything. She’s sweet, wildly smart, deeply affectionate, and convinced every dog she meets exists solely to play what we call “bitey faces.” She rides calmly in the van, loves new places, and is beginning to understand that some drives end at the vet, some at Lowe’s for campervan supplies, and some somewhere much bigger.
At the same time, I realized something else.
While I loved seeing my photographs hanging on someone’s wall, I didn’t love the grind of galleries or the shallow pace of online life. I wanted a more personal way to share my work — something slower, more thoughtful, more human.
That’s really what the campervan was about from the beginning: the freedom to chase a sunset, stop for fog on a river at dawn, or pull over in the middle of nowhere because the light suddenly became extraordinary. And now I have my canine companion to help me explore.
Some mornings begin before sunrise with coffee beside a silent river.
Some nights end beneath the stars after driving miles down roads that probably shouldn’t be driven in a homemade campervan.
Some days the photographs happen.
Some days they don’t.
But the journey always does.
That’s why I’m starting Miles with Molly.
Once a month, you’ll receive a digital letter from the road, along with a photograph or two. These letters will share the places we discover, the moments behind the images, beautiful light, wrong turns, unexpected conversations, campfire reflections, and what it feels like to move slowly through the world with a curious puppy who believes every dog, every human, and every trail was made specifically for her.
My hope is simple: to create something personal and meaningful — a small moment of beauty and escape in your inbox each month.
I’d love to have you along for the journey.
— Richard & Molly
Subscribe free to receive digital letters from the road by email.
Become a Fellow Traveler
Fellow Travelers will also receive a printed two-page letter in a real stamped envelope, along with a photographic postcard featuring an image from our travels — something to pin to a wall, tuck into a favorite book, or mail to a friend. Something tangible in a world that increasingly lives behind screens.
Slow mail. Photographs. Stories from the road.
$9 / month
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