At 46, John Evans has been shooting at a professional level for the last 10 years. In that time, he’s “jugged up some of the hardest sport routes on Earth.” Originally from Vermont, Evans now lives in Salt Lake City with his wife, identical twin boys, and dog, and works as Marketing Director for Petzl North America. His photos have been published in a half dozen climbing mags, foreign and domestic, including UC, and he teaches climbing photography at the Red Rock Rendezvous. He’s also an Access Fund board member. Rock on, John. Check out more of this work at: johnevansphoto.com

My first camera (technically my first SLR) got stolen. I think that’s why I’m so paranoid about my gear.

I love shooting in the West, particularly the desert . . . when the sun is low you see these incredible geometric displays of light and darkness that you don’t get in wooded parts of the world.

A perfect photograph reaches out and grabs you, has great light and contrast, and a strong subject caught in the perfect moment — I certainly haven’t shot it yet.

Photographing climbing is typically a team effort. Most people don’t realize how much the climbers help the photographers with rigging, etc.

I’m lucky to have a job that revolves around climbing, especially one that has put me in a position to give back to the community with projects like the HERAbiner or the work we do with the Access Fund and the Conservation Alliance. Having a great bouldering wall at the office and plenty of vacation time isn’t bad either.”

When I pack for a shoot, I always have too much stuff: lenses, bosons seat, climbing gear, static line, reflectors, etc. Usually, I forget the food and the water, and I’m always one locking biner short, no matter how many I bring.

I started climbing so I could climb peaks (like the Tetons). Now I’m more into the short approaches and climbing on routes with cobbles and bolts. I do get out once or twice a year and climb something big.

Climbing is a lifestyle, not an activity. It affects the way I eat, the places I visit, the people I know, my politics, and who’s ‘friending’ me on Facebook.

In ten years, my twin boys will be 19 — that’s kind of scary.