This spring, Aaron and I spent five weeks on the road — from San Diego to the wild shores of Tofino, British Columbia — chasing light through ancient redwood forests, hidden beaches, and some of the most pristine coastline on earth. That journey became Aaron's new Pacific Northwest Collection. This is the story behind it.

After 34 years of marriage, I can testify — love does. It is an action word that originates from the heart and is carried out through commitment and sacrifice. My name is Erika Chang, and I wholeheartedly love my husband, our family, and our two six-year-old saluki dogs, Kazper and Memphis. With our children grown — Saxon is 25, Eland now 21 — we've reshaped our lifestyle to bring the salukis along: Aaron and I now travel in an RV, towing a tiny, lightweight car that lets us explore once we're parked.

Our most recent journey began at a dog show…

(Yes, that's Aaron at a dog show, waiting patiently for our next event. He's truly an amazing husband and life partner.)

The dog shows were actually Aaron's gift to me. After so many years of me waiting at home while he traveled the world chasing light and waves, Aaron wanted to say thank you — and this was how he chose to do it. He committed to showing up, year after year, to something I truly loved (I grew up with a saluki, an incredible companion I loved dearly). Because of that, Kazper is now an AKC Grand Champion and Memphis a Champion. It has been one of the sweetest gifts of our marriage.

A Storm Before the Journey

Before we could even leave to go north, a dust storm descended upon us in the Central Valley. It stopped us cold for two days.

Winds raged across the valley with gusts up to 75 mph, and there was simply no way we were going to risk flipping a 33-foot RV or getting into an accident. So we waited it out, watching the world turn brown and wild outside our windows, while enjoying the company of our other friends stuck at the dog show grounds as well.

Those two days cost us though… When the storm finally cleared, we found ourselves racing northward to make our ferry reservation from Port Angeles to Victoria, BC — the gateway into Canada. We had to stop along the way, but condensed a five-day trip into three. The road up north turned into a scouting expedition instead of a planned photo trip. We would just have to come back on the way home.

Secret Beach, Oregon

Our first glimpse of Secret Beach in Brookings, Oregon.

On the way north, we stumbled upon a magical place on the Oregon coast called Secret Beach. A redwood-lined highway delivered us there almost by surprise, and what we found took our breath away. Dramatic sea stacks rose from turquoise water, waves rolled across a wide, quiet stretch of sand, and the air smelled like salt and pine.

This was where the decompression began. The stress of the dust storm, the racing, the two lost days — it all started to loosen its grip here. Standing on that bluff above the Pacific, looking out at something so ancient and indifferent to our little scramble northward, it was impossible not to exhale.

Some places find you at exactly the right moment. Secret Beach was that place for us.

Imagine hiking through a short trail with a stream flowing beside the path, leading you to this opening of secluded, breathtaking discovery. Secret Beach was our first moment of stunning beauty.

Next Stop: Tofino, British Columbia

Our love for Canada runs deep.

For nearly two decades, we made an annual trip to Whistler every winter for the World Ski & Snowboard Festival — home to the iconic Pro Photographer Showdown, a renowned multimedia and slideshow competition that brings together some of the world's leading action sports and lifestyle photographers to battle it out on stage for the "Best in Show" title. Aaron entered three times and won twice. Eventually, he was invited to join the judging panel, a role he held for many years.

But beyond the competition, Whistler was where our family grew up. Saxon and Eland spent 7 to 10 days there every winter, year after year, surrounded by some of the most majestic mountain scenery on earth. We made friendships that have lasted to this day — and over the years, so many of our Canadian friends would speak fondly of Tofino. Wild. Remote. Unforgettable.

It had been on our list for a long time. This trip, we finally made it happen.

Memphis on the ferry ride from Port Angeles, WA to Victoria, BC.

Memphis and Aaron enjoying the warmth of the midday sun on the ferry.

Seven hours of hairpin turns from Victoria to Tofino, white-knuckle driving, and breathtaking scenery competing for our attention at every bend — and then, finally, this. Tofino. Kazper saw it first.

Tofino was a wild and magical place, where the land seemed to just end. This photo was captured out in front of the Crystal Cove Beach Resort. Tofino reminded us of the North Shore of Oahu in the '90s — without the epic surf, but the locals are very surf-stoked and truly lovely people. Aaron did go out and surf one day in 50-degree water; his 4/3 wetsuit wasn't quite up to the task, so it was a quick one! What Tofino lacked in surf, it made up for with abundant greenery, wildlife, and some of the most pristine water on earth.

Magical forests growing on islands, greenery that reaches all the way to the shore. This is Tofino — wild, lush, and more beautiful than anything we could have imagined.

Our home for five weeks on the road — a 33-foot Bay Star Sport and our little "toad," the tiny car we unhitch once we're parked so we can actually explore. This is how we travel now, and we wouldn't change a thing.

The Slow Road Home

It took us a week to reach Canada. It took us four weeks to find our way back.

We weren't in a hurry — and the road made sure of it. It seemed like there was beauty around every corner, and we were genuinely awestruck at nearly every turn.

The further north we had traveled, the longer the days stretched, sometimes staying light until nearly 10 o'clock at night.

Every day felt rich with discovery.

The redwoods stopped us in our tracks. We spent hours in the woods each day, walking among trees so massive and ancient they seemed to exist outside of time. There's something that happens to you in a redwood forest — the noise of the world just falls away.

One of our most unexpected and memorable days came while we were stopped near Olympic National Park for new tires. (A misalignment issue had caught up with us, and while the RV was being serviced, we wandered into the old-growth forest to wait.)

We never really came back out — not emotionally, anyway. We got completely lost in the energy and harmony of that place. We found ourselves in awe of the micro ecosystems all around us — the way the death of a single tree becomes the beginning of something new, feeding animals, regenerating into growth, completing a cycle that has nothing to do with us and everything to teach us.

It was one of those days that reminds you why you slow down.

One of the most amazing things about walking through old-growth forests like those in Olympic National Park was seeing the regeneration throughout the woods. Trees that fell over became home for animals, growing moss as the wood softened and became part of the rich soil that hosted such an abundance of flora and fauna.

The sublime patience of nature, as captured in this moment, has the ability to still our restless minds, restore our sense of wonder, and remind us that renewal is always possible.

Aaron overwhelmed by the beauty of the thriving ecosystems throughout Olympic National Park.

Cloaked in velvet moss and reaching toward the sky with arms wide open, this ancient giant wears centuries on its bark — every knot and burl carved by rain, wind and the slow, unstoppable force of time.

A weathered bridge leads you forward into the ancient heart of the redwood forest — past fallen giants returning to earth, through corridors of fern and shadow, toward trees that have stood since long before your first breath.

Coastal Oregon and Washington

Another coastal hidden gem in Oregon.

Lake Crescent, WA — we loved what we saw in Washington so much, we actually went north again from Oregon.

Draped in cascading branches of luminous green, the still waters of Lake Crescent dissolve the boundary between world and reflection in this impressionist style — sky, water, and light becoming indistinguishable from one another, as if nature itself were painting in real time. This piece pays homage to the master impressionist, Monet.

All-day adventures, looking for the perfect shot.

Aaron captured the photo below looking skyward through a cathedral of old-growth trees, their massive trunks cloaked in emerald moss, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy that filters the light into something sacred.

Grandfathers carries the contemplative energy of old growth: endurance, stillness, and a profound connection to the living world. It is a photograph that rewards long looking — the deeper you study it, the more it reveals.

Kazper, relishing the soft light filtering through the canopy.

This waterfall was especially magical, as greenery infiltrated every square inch of land and rock. Descending in silence through a cathedral of moss and fern, this waterfall moves with the effortless grace of water that has always known its way — spilling over ancient stone into a pool of extraordinary stillness below.

Kazper: so much lush ground cover. Greenery from the forest floor to the sky.

Nautilus was captured on the coast of Washington during a massive swell. Here's Aaron's story about that day and what makes this piece so special.

Erika & Aaron after a 2-mile hike through the forest.

Memphis patiently waiting at 9:30pm while Aaron captures the last light off the coast.

Toketee Falls in Oregon — the most stunning place of beauty and power in nature.

Solitude and peace like nowhere else on earth. My last moment in the redwoods.

Crater Lake, OR — our scouting trip for where Aaron would shoot the Milky Way on the darkest night of the month.

About Aaron's New Collection

Aaron was shooting throughout the entire journey — from the dramatic coastline of Oregon to the misty shores of Tofino, the ancient redwood forests to the wild, open stretches of highway in between. As always, he was chasing the light, the moment, the feeling that is almost impossible to put into words.

That's what his photographs do. They hold what words can't.

May these pieces inspire you to experience the beauty of nature for yourself, and to hold it with awe and wonder — in your heart, in your home, and on your walls.