DENVER - In the time it takes to snap a photo, life can change in unforeseen and unimaginable ways.

As an adventure photographer, Wyoming's Bobby Model knew this as well as anyone. It was a lesson he learned on trips to risky locales around the globe.

In one assignment, he searched Burundi's rivers for a fabled man-eating crocodile called Gustave, armed with just his cameras.

In another, the 34-year-old native of Cody spent nearly two months climbing one of the world's largest granite walls in northern Pakistan, weathering a raging storm to take iconic images of the ascent.

His work has appeared in National Geographic, Outside, The New York Times and other publications. In 2006, Model was named a National Geographic Society "Emerging Explorer" because he "braves the most challenging locations to cover the toughest topics - culture, conflict and extreme adventure."

Model is now on his toughest assignment yet: recovering from a traumatic brain injury caused by an apparent random act of violence last June. That's when he was hit by a chunk of concrete that smashed through the windshield of a car he was in while vacationing in Cape Town, South Africa. Doctors said his chances of survival were remote.

Nine months later, Model is in a Denver hospital, communicating with his hands, even giving a thumbs up. He beams when he feels sunlight strike his face. He recognizes family and friends.

"I see the fire in his eyes," said his mom, Anne Young. "Bobby wants to get out."

Model's progress was hampered recently by trouble with a shunt placed in his brain to drain fluid. The problem was fixed, and he'll soon continue his rehabilitation at Craig Hospital, which specializes in traumatic brain injuries.

"We want to help him not be who he was, but who he is now after the injury," said Dr. Alan Weintraub, medical director of Craig's brain injury program. "We'll meet Bobby where his brain capacities allow us."

Weintraub tries to temper hope with reality.

"Bobby and his family are up for the challenges, no matter what the future holds. They're not going to dwell on what he can't do," he said.

'An emotional outlet'

Growing up on a ranch outside Cody, Model was always the kid who went the extra mile.

He built a tree house - and added a shower. He played hockey, so he flooded the yard to make a rink. He wanted a sled, so he studied an Eskimo design, ordered the wood and shaped the runners over a campfire.

"Anything that was new and interesting and compelling and challenging, he was up for," said his sister, Faith Model.

That's why rock climbing appealed to him.

"I remember him being really scared when he climbed up on the garage roof when he was 6," his mother said. "He was like, 'How do I get off of here?' But he didn't want help. Bobby addresses his fears straight on."

Model went on his first major climbing expedition in 1995, when he accompanied renowned rock climber Todd Skinner to the Nameless Tower in northern Pakistan. The journey was partly funded by National Geographic, and put Model on the map as a climber and photographer. He more than held his own on the granite spire that tops out just over 20,000 feet, snapping some of the trip's most indelible images with a point-and-shoot camera.

He returned to the University of Wyoming, finishing his degree in environmental economics in 1997, only to scrap it to concentrate on photography.

"He told people who he was through the camera," Young said. "Photography was an emotional outlet for him."

Rebecca Martin, director of the expeditions council at National Geographic, frequently called on Model for adventure assignments. Before his accident, she was planning to send him to Bhutan to hike the 216-mile Snowman Trek, one of the most difficult trails in the world.

Model was also working on a National Geographic photo essay documenting the Baltistan region of Pakistan, site of a border dispute with India. It was his way of branching out, shedding the label of an adventure photographer.

"You could send him off anywhere and he'd come back with an incredible story," Martin said.

'Everything can change'

Faith Model shared a house with her brother in Nairobi, Kenya. She was driving him to meet some friends when the accident happened.

"I don't know where the concrete brick came from," she said.

Lacking leads, police in South Africa suspended the investigation.

"You wonder why this happened. Was it a carjacking? Was it someone trying to feed a starving kid and were desperate?" Young said. "Maybe it was just a random act - wrong place at the wrong time. We don't know."

Model spent nearly a month in South Africa before being flown to Mount Sinai Hospital in New York, then to Craig Hospital in mid-October.

News of Model's injury hit fellow climber Steve Bechtel of Lander hard. It came on the heels of Skinner's death. Skinner fell 500 feet in October 2006 while attempting a new route up Leaning Tower in Yosemite National Park.

Bechtel, Skinner and Model had been tight since their rock climbing days in Wyoming.

"If you gave me a list of all my friends, the two I was absolutely sure never would get hurt were Todd and Bobby," Bechtel said. "It shows the fragile nature of our lives. Everything can change in an instant.

"But I feel lucky with Bobby," Bechtel continued. "I have every confidence that I'm going to sit and talk to him and he's going to be there. He's not gone. I've looked into his eyes and held his hand - he's there. He's coming back. It's a long damn road, but I have confidence he'll make it."

Model's family has been amazed at the outpouring of support from the climbing community. A popular rock climbing Web forum has more than 780 posts wishing him well.

Dedication

Michael McRae, a freelance writer for National Geographic, stays in touch with his family through letters.

McRae met Model when the two tried to track down the elusive Gustave. After weeks of waiting, Model improvised.

He had a villager stand near a stream, holding up a photo of Gustave just as the sun was setting. The villager's arms almost resembled the croc's mouth. The photo ran across two pages in the magazine, with a headline that said, "Have you seen this Croc?"

"Just a great shot given the circumstances," McRae said. "By the time we showed up, the croc had vanished, and there were warring factions of the Hutus and Tutsis in the area. It was risky to be there, but he was willing to hang out to look for this crocodile. It demonstrated to me how dedicated he was."

Despite his travels, Model stayed tethered to his small-town roots. He often ventured back to Cody, where he has a home and photography studio. He would frequently call his assistant, Sharon Miller, by satellite phone from remote destinations just to hear the town's latest gossip.

"That's Bobby," said Miller, who's managing Model's business while he recovers. "He wanted to know what was going on."

Model once called Young to wish her a happy Mother's Day - from base camp on Mount Everest.

"He understood how fleeting life was, how tragedy could happen any minute," she said. "Bobby had a saying: 'Whenever I take my life for granted, I kick myself.' There's a tension between life and death and he always had a sense of that. That's why he was so very much alive."