This is the photo that started it all.

Shot by my daughter with her phone as I emerged, somewhat less gracefully than intended, from Lake Superior. Somehow, it has more likes and comments than anything else on my Instagram account—more than photos I traveled halfway across the country to take, more than the ones that took me weeks (even months) of planning, patience, and, occasionally, mild frostbite to capture.

That, along with my growing addiction to the platform, got me thinking: maybe it was time to move out. Get my own place, free from algorithms, vertical video tyranny, and my increasing love of likes and comments.

And so, here we are. A quiet little corner of the internet, largely undiscovered, but entirely mine.

The name? It’s a nod to Norse mythology—the Bifrost, “rainbow bridge” said to connect Earth with the realm of the gods. I like to think I’m somewhere along it, marveling at the fact that my kids have grown into genuinely wonderful human beings and that, against all odds, my lovely wife tolerates me and my ever-expanding catalog of questionable adventures.

Along the Bifrost I go.