Looking the part of a woodsman

I'm three days into a growing a beard, and the first vestiges of the dreaded itching have reared their pokey heads. But I must persist. To explain why, let me back up.

Being competitive has always been a hallmark of my personality. It's how I've gotten a lot of things done; someone says I can't, so I do. Either that or someone outright challenges me. That's how I became a distance swimmer. My coach threw down a challenge to exceed what even I considered possible, and I did. Competition plays a big role in my photography, too. I see others' work -- or my own -- and am determined to do something better, capture more compelling moments, use light more creatively, get closer, shoot smarter.

So, when my boss and a coworker at my day job challenged me to grow a beard, it was game on. They each put $25 on the line that I wouldn't do it. Upping the ante, a lot of people don't think I'm capable of growing a beard. I have no idea why. Do I look young? Very much so. Am I hairless? Very much not. Have a I never grown facial year? I very much have. So I've got a two-fold mission here: 1. Win a bet, and 2. Prove that I am indeed post-pubescent.

Here's where the scruff stands at three days in:

Just call me Dan of the Mountains.

This will be a long, itchy ride, but I must persist. Hopefully it'll all be over in a couple months. We'll see. In the meantime, if anyone knows how to cut the itch that kicks in after about a week, for the love of God tell me.

- Dan