WHERE THE TIME HAS NO NAME
How my camera and a 100 day backpacking adventure to Europe saved my life
At 22 years old, I was lost.
After a suicide attempt and months of feeling like my life was already over, I bought a one-way ticket to Europe. I had no plan, no return ticket, and very little money. What I did have was a camera, a journal, and a desperate hope that getting as far away from home as possible might help me find a reason to keep living.
Over the next 100 days, I traveled through 11 countries with nothing but a backpack and my camera. I took hundreds of photographs on black-and-white film. I wrote in my journal every day. And slowly, frame by frame, I began to come back to life.
Thirty-two years later, those photographs and journal entries still exist — saved from a house fire that destroyed almost everything else my family owned.
This is that story.
The PLOT
In the summer of 1993, I hit rock bottom. I was living in the biggest party house at the University of Nebraska-Kearney, drinking heavily, and convinced I had already ruined my life.
One year later, I landed in Shannon, Ireland, with a massive external-frame backpack and no idea what I was going to do next.
What followed was 100 days of walking, riding trains, sleeping in hostels, and using my camera to make sense of the world — and of myself. I photographed cathedrals that made me feel small and hopeful. I photographed streets that felt like another planet. I photographed moments of unexpected kindness from strangers. And I photographed the quiet, lonely hours in between.
I didn’t just take pictures on that trip. I used photography to stay alive.
This is the story of that journey — told in my original 1994 journal entries, the photographs I took on film, and honest reflections written 32 years later.
Why I’m Sharing This Now
At 1:00 am on July 7, 2025, my parents’ house burned to the ground. My 83-year-old father, his 75-year-old partner Ellen, my younger sister Tammy, her daughter Lucia and the family dog Snickers barely made it out alive. Despite the firefighters best efforts, the home was a total loss.
The lesson we learned is that all that truly matters is that everyone made it out safe, everything else was just stuff, and to look at the bright side because it could have been absolutely tragic had Lucia not discovered the fire after getting home from her job at 1:00 am. and waking everyone else up.
Thank God everyone lived, and everything else was just stuff that can be replaced. Mostly. Not everything could be replaced, and we were able to salvage some of the most important family items that were luckily stored in the basement storage area.
But this is where I get goosebumps, one year later, as I write this on June 5, 2026. One year before the fire, in the summer of 2024, I had pulled a dusty box out of that basement storage room — the box that contained every roll of film and every page of my journal from that 1994 trip. If I had waited even one more year to go through it, all of it would have been destroyed in the fire.
That near-miracle is part of why I’m sharing this story now.
I believe this story can help people who are standing exactly where I was at 22 — feeling completely lost, hopeless, and convinced their best days are behind them.
I also believe my photographs still have something to say.
This isn’t just a travel story. It’s a story about using creativity as a lifeline. It’s a story about grace showing up in unexpected places. And it’s a story about what we choose to carry with us when everything else burns.
What You’ll Find Inside
As you travel with me through Where the Time Has No Name, you’ll experience:
My original journal entries, written in real time during the trip
Hundreds of black-and-white photographs I took on film across 11 countries
Honest reflections written in 2026, with the perspective of a man who has lived a full life since
The quiet moments, the unexpected magic, and the honest truth about what it really takes to come back from the edge
You can read it for free, one day at a time, exactly as it happened.
Who This Is For
This story is for anyone who has ever felt completely lost.
It’s for people who believe a camera can be more than just a tool, it can be a life-changer.
It’s for anyone who loves honest travel stories and the music that soundtracks a life.
It’s for anyone who needs to believe that their story isn’t over yet.
If any of these describe you, I saved you a seat on my Time Machine.
Join Me on This Journey
This story has been sitting quietly for over 30 years. Now that it has been rescued, I’m loving the experience of sharing it with people who are moved by it.
If you want to follow along as I continue publishing new content, receive occasional personal reflections, and be the first to know about new photographs and prints, you can join my email list below.
It’s free, and I’ll only reach out when I have something meaningful to share.
Support This Project
If this story moves you and you’d like to go deeper, here are a few ways you can support it:
Traveler – $25 Digital access to the complete 100-day story + high-resolution downloads of 3 favorite photographs
Keepsake – $75 Everything in Traveler + 5 photographs + a personal thank-you note from me
Collector – $150 Everything above + one signed 8x10 print of your choice + your name listed as a Supporter
Explorer – $250 Everything above + one signed 11x14 print + a personal video message from me + your name as a Legacy Supporter
Legacy – $500 Everything above + one signed 16x24 museum-quality canvas wrap + early access to future content
• A portion of all proceeds supports McKenna’s Rae of Hope Foundation •
This is more than old photographs and journal entries.
This is the story of how I found my way back to myself —
and how those memories were saved after almost being lost forever.
Come with me. Let’s go back to 1994 together.
— Todd Rundstrom
Kearney, Nebraska
2026