Andy Best is a outdoor adventure documentary filmmaker and photographer. A contributor to National Geographic Travel and cinematographer of Old Man Lightning — winner of Best Climbing Film at the 2025 Banff Mountain Film Festival — Andy has shot campaigns for Sony, Toyota, DJI, Outside Magazine, GoPro, Wieden & Kennedy, Saatchi & Kennedy, Nike, Huckberry, and more. All while living off-grid for over a decade with his two daughters, and a mobile production studio powered by Goal Zero.

A Timeline of Art & Energy

2013

This was the beginning of it all. I was traveling through Oregon chasing stars between filming locations, so transfixed by the vast open sky above the desert floor that, eyes droopy, I finally decided to stop for the night. I set my camera up on the playa, tossed my tent open, and started offloading the day's footage. My Goal Zero lantern burned while my Yeti 400 kept the batteries and laptop running, a timelapse firing away and capturing a moment that will stick with me forever.

2014

My 29th birthday. I had just wrapped one of the most memorable trips of my life, traveling through Alberta with my best friend Chad Kendrick. We were posted up just north of the US border near Waterton Provincial Park. It was my final night in Canada, and before the evening's festivities we needed to get backed up and charged. I remember laying everything out, charging, backing up, and prepping for the next leg of the journey. Years later this photo turned into a meme: "I told my boss I'm working from home." That says a lot given when it was taken. Social media hadn't taken hold of the world just yet.

2015

My first adventure home. I was living in Yosemite Valley with my pup Sequoia, waiting on a snowstorm to capture. All the roads in and out were closed, and besides myself and the folks who worked in the park, Yosemite was empty. I was on assignment, catching up on work between setups in this scene. The campsite didn't come with power and the water was shut off for the winter, so I was living fully off grid. During the day I charged via solar, and through the storm I had enough juice to stay powered and operational. I walked away with some of the best photos of Yosemite I've ever taken. This is one of my all-time favorites, a day in the life of a nomadic adventure filmmaker.

2016

The Olympics. I was guiding a tour through the park with new friends and Sequoia, camped on a ridgeline looking out at Mt. Olympus. I was in the middle of backing up footage, listening to music, when I had to step back and take a photo of the scene. So often it feels absurd to be working in places like this, and the feeling only heightens when you have everything you need to be exactly where you are. It masks the fact that you're in the wild and really shouldn't be able to exist there so comfortably. Comfort is subjective, but I don't need much: the gear to do my job, my pup, good people, and an amazing view.

2017

I was out in eastern Oregon working on what I hoped would be an epic nighttime timelapse series for an ongoing piece called Pacific Wonderland. The area was blanketed in thick wildfire smoke I kept hoping would dissipate, so I set up my mobile office and home and got work done while I waited on the chance of clear skies. Believe it or not, even without direct sun I was pulling enough solar to keep me going. I never got the skies, but I got to be out in one of my favorite zones of Oregon.

2018

Here I'm tucked deep in the sage of central Oregon, once again working on my film Pacific Wonderland. It was the middle of the day and I was recharging and cleaning up after a long night shooting stars, overjoyed at what I'd captured. This is the scenario more often than not: the chaos of shooting sunset, sunrise, and stars, then spending midday as a zombie, cleaning gear and backing everything up.

2019

A scene from my first time in Baja. We had our two-year-old, a baby on the way, and a bright future ahead of us. No one knew Covid was about to change it all. For now, though, we were filming a project with new friends down in Mexico, ending most nights with a scene like this: cooking amazing food and relaxing under dark skies beside the calm waters of the Sea of Cortez. Pure magic.

2020

During the pandemic my little family traveled in our camper from town to town and state to state, learning the different restrictions and mostly steering clear of the public. We quite literally quarantined in the mountains and in vast wild spaces. This was a typical morning inside the camper, everyone waiting on Dad to start making breakfast. Truly amazing to have a whole family under such a tiny roof in the wild.

2021

Another season in Baja. This was the window to my office most mornings while the family played on the beach. I tried to get everything done during the year so that once we crossed the border, all we had to do was recalibrate for the year ahead. Mornings here were for writing or going through the images captured along the way.

2022

Baja became our home away from home every winter. We'd try to cross into Mexico to spend the holidays there, and on this trip we arrived just in time for Christmas morning. I'll never forget driving two straight days to this spot, getting out of the truck, and just sitting in the quiet. All we could hear was the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. In the morning, the familiar sound of pelicans fishing at the crack of dawn. An incredible feeling.

2023

A typical scene from our life on the road: a movie screen under the stars. The goal here was always Mario Kart under the night sky. On this trip we'd met up with new friends who also had two daughters, traveled a couple weeks together, and had an absolute blast. One night we got the projector out and had movie night next to the beach. The kiddos will never forget it, and with any luck they'll chase the same adventures when they're older.

2024

The high Sierra. This was the final shoot for our film Old Man Lightning. All I brought was my tent, my Goal Zero kit, and camera gear. A small footprint compared to the rest of the crew, but one that has always worked for me. And this is typically the scene: everyone asleep, my tent glowing while I back up footage and recharge for the morning. A year later the film went on to win Best Climbing Film at Banff Mountain Film Festival. It was an eight-year endeavor I helped shoot, and I'm so proud of the team and proud to be part of it. What a place to wrap a movie.

2025

My new backyard. New beginnings, same old project: Pacific Wonderland. I was out in the mountains behind my new home in the Siskiyous working on several scenes, running multiple cameras at once, which always means tons of footage and plenty of batteries to recharge. It felt a bit like going back in time. Different place, different tent, different rig, but upgraded gear and many years of experience in these scenes. I remember sitting here at one point reflecting on the journey, the setup so second nature it left me all the time in the world to just think. I'm grateful for all the years behind me and every opportunity I've had to capture my art. This is what it's all about.

2026

Present day. I was out in Northern California with friends recently, capturing scenes for Pacific Wonderland. Goal Zero and Sony are still at my side, just in new places. There really is something to paring your life back and simplifying it every way you can. Life only gets busier with age, and getting back to your roots and plugging back into adventure quiets the miles behind you. I slept in a ground tent listening to shutters click through the night, almost in rhythm with the toads in the marsh beside me, an owl making its presence known now and then. After all these years, with thousands of frames stretched behind a lifetime of work, being present in these moments is everything.