Ken Perry Photography

08/30/2026

A little broken, still built for the adventure.

07/19/2026

This blue Chevrolet, parked outside Scotsman General Store in Laurel, feels like a reminder that a town’s real beauty is carried in the things that have stayed, served, and gathered stories along the way.

07/19/2026

“The structure may stand between us, but the horizon was never built to hold us.” - TYME

07/12/2026

Sunrise hit different—calm water, cool air, and a fresh start. Line in, mind clear, letting the morning do its work.

MorningVibes LakeLife OffRoadAndOutdoors OverlandingLife OutdoorMood CastAndChill FishingSunrise TYMEOverland EarlyStart FishingTime CatchAndRelease WisconsinFishing

07/05/2026

06/20/2026

New rule for the trail: if you see it grinning at you… you’re officially in the right place. offgridliving overlandcommunity exploremore

05/25/2026

The rain has a way of slowing everything down, like the sky itself is bowing its head in remembrance. On Memorial Day, we honor the brave souls who laid down their lives for this country, and we carry their sacrifice like a steady flame through every storm. ❤️

05/17/2026

Just one week away from Memorial Day weekend, and I can already feel the reset coming.
A little dirt, a little quiet, and a lot of freedom.

Sometimes the best way forward is to get a little farther off the pavement.

04/11/2026

It’s a Good Day

03/27/2026

Tomorrow marks Ashley’s 33rd birthday.

Birthdays are supposed to be filled with celebration. Now, they’re filled with reflection… and a quiet wish for more TYME, more memories, more pictures to look back on.

The other day, someone asked how I’ve been since losing her. I said I’m doing okay—and I am. But “okay” doesn’t mean easy. Some days carry more weight than others.

When they asked which days are the hardest, I didn’t hesitate.

Almost all of them.

Every morning, I pass by her picture hanging next to the karate belts she worked so hard for. And in that moment, it all feels close again. The same thought always tries to surface: “If I only…”

But I’ve come to realize those words keep you stuck in a place you can’t change. So instead, I choose something different:

“I will…”

I will keep her memory alive.
I will honor the life she lived.
I will turn this pain into something that matters.

Because Ashley was so much more than the way her story ended.

She was my daughter.
A sister.
A granddaughter.
A friend.
A cousin.
A mother of three.
A human being facing a battle that too many misunderstand.

Addiction doesn’t look the way people think it does. It doesn’t start with giving up—it often starts with trying to feel whole.

Ashley was trying to feel okay.

But addiction takes more than it gives. It takes joy, stability, connection… and eventually, it takes everything.

Her passing is part of a larger crisis—but her life stands on its own. It mattered. It still matters.

If her story helps someone see addiction differently, or reach out instead of turning away, then her voice is still being heard through all of us.

You are missed more today than yesterday, Ashley… and that feeling never fades.