I never planned to lead photography workshops.

In fact, the idea found me on a rainy day at Brooks Camp in Alaska nearly two decades ago.
I was standing at Brooks Falls, camera in hand, surrounded by the sound of rushing water and the rhythmic chaos of bears fishing for salmon. Beside me, a woman was struggling — her flash kept firing inside a plastic rain cover, lighting up everyone around her. She looked frustrated, ready to give up.

I leaned over and asked if she needed help.

She told me she was on a very expensive, “famous” photographer’s workshop — only the famous photographer wasn’t actually there. In his place was a college-aged chaperone with a clipboard who simply dropped participants off and checked boxes. No teaching. No guidance. No connection.

I helped her adjust her menu settings, adjust her camera settings, and fix her focusing. Her next shot was sharp — really sharp — and the joy on her face said everything. She thanked me at least ten times over the next 30 minutes.

That single moment changed the trajectory of my life.

It reminded me what photography really is — not just about capturing an image, but helping someone else see what they’re capable of.

Over a decade ago, I started taking friends on small photography trips. They were the ones who encouraged me to turn this passion into something bigger. That first year, two people joined. The next year, five. Today, I lead 15–20 weeks of wildlife photography workshops every year across the U.S. mainland, Alaska, and Iceland — helping photographers capture once-in-a-lifetime images and fall in love with the wild all over again.

It hasn’t all been easy.

I’ve faced copycats who tried to redirect clients from my website, and every single year I wonder, “Will the workshops fill up again?” But what keeps me going are the people who come back — year after year — because they don’t just learn photography… they feel seen, supported, and inspired.

I’m proud to offer workshops that are more personal, more authentic, and yes — more affordable — than most of the industry. I don’t just shuttle people from one spot to another. I teach. I share stories. I create moments where learning and awe collide.

At the end of the day, my mission is simple:
To help photographers feel confident behind their lens, proud of their work, and connected to the wildlife they photograph.

Because the world doesn’t need more pictures — it needs more people who care enough to capture them well.

-Greg H.