Looking Down

Posted by dkrashb on June 6, 2013

Centipede on moss

After spending a half hour or so at the hang gliding launch ramp on top of Lookout Mountain on Sunday, we decided to take the time to drive over to Cloudland Canyon. Although we weren’t up for a long hike, the flat, easy walk along the cliff seemed about right for us.

I’m not sure why exactly, perhaps it was the sudden realization that the path we were on was bordered by poison ivy, but I started looking down. Not down the cliffs so much–well, maybe some, but the view from the overlooks is spectacular and looking straight out is usually far more interesting than looking down. Plus, looking down always makes me feel a little weak-kneed.

Evening primrose with a few remaining drops of water

Rather, I found myself looking down at the occasional wildflower growing by the side of the path, the insects hanging out along the way, and at the pine warbler who decided to show himself just long enough for me to get my camera in position and then flit off.

I guess I should be grateful for poison ivy because it’s taught me to look down, look at what’s at my feet, and pay attention to where I’m stepping. Who knows, it may have saved my life a time or two.

I thought this was a rhododendron, but after googling, I think its a hawthorn flower

But, poison ivy is one of those plants that you’re either indifferent to or it strikes terror in your heart. I spent the first 30 years of my life pretty much oblivious to poison ivy. I wasn’t allergic to it. Then one day, I was weeding in the garden of our first house. I looked down at the handful of vines I was holding in my gloved hands and realized I was holding a bouquet of poison ivy. Unconcerned, I set them in the yard waste pile and thought no more about it.

The next day, the part of my wrist that was above my glove and below my sleeve broke out in a rash. Pretty soon, I had a 2-inch tall welt that was, at close inspection, a mound of bump on bump on bump. It looked like it had been skinned across the top and clear liquid oozed out of it at such a rate that it ran down my arm. It was truly disgusting.

More hawthorn/rhododendron

That was the first time in my life I took steroids. But I was sure happy to have them as an option! Every since then, I have broken out with poison ivy every summer whether I come into contact with it or not. I blamed the dogs for many years, but then the dogs died and I still broke out. I became paranoid–I frequently jump away in terror when I see a Boxelder sapling, which resembles poison ivy at first glance.

As an offshoot of my paranoia, however, I now notice more plants and creepy-crawly things than I ever noticed before I felt like I had to continually be on the look out for my sworn enemy.

I’m not sure what these are, but they were pretty

Mountain Launch

Posted by dkrashb on June 5, 2013

A pilot returning after a 1-year hiatus launches while we watch

There are some moments in life that leave a lasting impression–a shadow of the experience that lives on long past the moment, perhaps even a lifetime. One of those moments for me is the moment I crossed the “Danger! Risk of Falling” line on the launch ramp on Lookout Mountain. It was my first mountain launch as a novice hang glider.

The Danger! line is literally a line on the launch ramp

We have returned to the Lookout Mountain launch a couple of times since that monumental day, but we haven’t been back to fly. It’s been over a year now since I last hooked myself into a hang glider. My husband has remained determined to return “eventually” to flying.

This is the view of the launch ramp that nearly caused me to lose consciousness the first time I saw it

On Sunday, we found ourselves back up on top of Lookout Mountain at the hang gliding launch. Soon, we were inside the office checking on our membership status and filling out paperwork to renew. Then, we realized one of us was going to be out of town every weekend until July. And so it appears we are likely to be celebrating our 18th anniversary on the training hills together. At least, I will be on the training hills. Pat may graduate to the mountain in a day (if hang gliding is like riding a bike), but I have no plans to go off the mountain ever again.

Hang glider pilots are not the only ones equipped to soar the ridge

Of course, I had no plans to go off the mountain the first time either. I just found myself there after getting to the point where I felt confident and comfortable enough on the training hills that it just seemed natural I would run off a mountain with a kite hooked to my body.

Standing there on the launch ramp, looking over the fall line, I found my knees remained solid. I had only a brief wave of nausea thinking about stepping over that line, then, the shadow of the memory, the feeling of the hang glider on my shoulders kicked in. The weight of it lifting in the wind assuring me I could, in fact fly. All I had to do was look at the ridge on the other side of the valley and that’s where I would go.

I switched cameras to catch the hang glider as it pulled away from the mountain.

Then, the memory faded and I looked down and another memory kicked in. The memory of our first trip up to the hang gliding office–seeing the launch ramp for the first time. The sudden terror that overtook both of us thinking we might be launching off that ramp. The physical weakness, barely able to stand in the face of the fear of running off that mountain.

The bib on the launch slopes away from the fall line, making it more probably that if you fall, you’ll fall away from the cliff

The contrast struck me as profound. I am the same person. My response to the same stimulus went from paralyzing terror to confidence (with a few vestigial belly butterflies). Like so many things in life, the launch ramp is what it is. We can respond to it however we choose. As I look over the mountain one more time, I find myself wondering if perhaps, one day, I will launch from this ramp again after all.

Close-up of the flight part logo on the side of the launch

Fairyland

Posted by dkrashb on June 4, 2013

The entrance to Fairyland

I have now been to Rock City many times between going up to photograph the birds of prey show, photographing the release of a rehabilitated Peregrine Falcon, taking visiting friends up, shooting the Christmas lights for a local paper, and now volunteering for the Rock City Raptors show.

Usually I spend my time at the Rock City Raptors amphitheater, although I manage to make it to the cliff that has an amazing view. Supposedly you can see 7 states from the overlook if you use a scope and it’s a clear day.

A cave completely lined in colored corals

But underneath Rock City, there is a whole ‘nother world for which it is really famous. The property is lined with caverns and crevices that provide for “fat man’s squeeze” and a variety of other interesting places to explore. I, however, have never made it through that part of Rock City. This is because when I’ve had the chance, we’ve either had accessibility limitations with a stroller or we had Tisen with us and I volunteered to stay behind with him so he wouldn’t get upset when he saw me walking away without him. This summer, I’m going to find a little time to check out what I’ve been missing. I’m determined.

Hansel and Gretel make an appearance

In that spirit, when John and Dale asked me if I’d seen Fairyland before, I took the opportunity to see a part of Rock City I’d not only never seen, but never even heard of. John and Dale took me to Fairyland via a shortcut, so I’m not sure I’d be able to find it again, but the entrance to Fairyland was pretty impressive. They lined a naturally occurring crevice with stone and added on to the entrance to a tunnel to make a rather interesting, if not natural, entryway.

Rip Van Winkle just woke up

There is apparently a long tradition of gnomes at Rock City. They show up as a decorating theme all over the park. I suppose I should not have been surprised that gnomes would also have a big presence in a place called Fairyland. It’s just, well, I find gnomes surprising in general.

Little Red Riding Hood is in trouble

While I am generally more into exploring caverns that still look like they did the day they were first discovered, I have to admit I was amazed by the amount of effort that went into creating the series of scenes in Fairyland. As we passed down a dark passage, inside cavern after cavern was a recreation of a scene from the fairytales that were so popular in my childhood (and my mother’s and probably my grandmother’s if not may great-grandmother’s). The figurines and sets were painted in glow-in-the-dark paint and the lighting was black lights. It made for an intense burst of color in the middle of the pitch black of the cave.

Mother Goose Village rises up out of the dark

One giant room was called Mother Goose Village and had a full assortment of characters from Mother Goose herself to Humpty Dumpty. The whole Fairyland experience was more fun than I expected–and definitely unique.

A gnome carnival is in full motion

When Work is Play

Posted by dkrashb on June 3, 2013

Osceola (or “Ocie”) seems fascinated by my camera

I have the opportunity to fill in for a friend of mine from Wings to Soar (formerly Save Our American Raptors) for a weekend. I will be doing her part of the birds of prey show at Rock City–the Rock City Raptors.

In preparation for my debut as a raptor handler, Saturday morning I made my way (after a few wrong turns because I made the mistake of listening to my GPS instead of following the hundreds of signs that guide visitors from all over the world successfully) to Rock City for my first lesson on what to do back stage. When you sit in the audience and take pictures, it all seems so simple. Music plays. A video plays. Someone talks. Birds appear. Birds fly. Everyone laughs and applauds and looks amazed. Then we go home.

Buddy makes a great model when it comes to holding still–the only problem is getting her to look at the camera

Back stage, things look a lot more complicated. It never occurred to me that there was some pretty major choreography going on back stage to get that music and video happening and to keep the timing just right between the two presenters, Dale and John.

I took 5 pages of notes just on the transitions of media and movement of people and birds during the 45 minute show. I didn’t even try to write down the things that John and Dale say about the birds during the show. I’m counting on Dale to provide me a script for my parts for next weekend, when I get my second lesson.

These visitors take advantage of what may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have their photo taken with a Hang Gliding Bald Eagle

Backstage, videos have to be queued up and started at the right time. There are two machines to play videos and music and a mixer to manage the volumes. There is a rhythm (I suspect–I haven’t found it yet) to popping discs in and out, starting them, stopping them, fading them out, etc. In all, 16 discs are used during the 45 minute program.

I had trouble keeping up with all the disc changes, stops, and starts even when all I was doing was taking notes.

A family chats with John after the show, clearly fascinated by the birds

I, of course, didn’t have a chance to take pictures during the show. It did, however, occur to me that perhaps I should try wearing a helmet video camera next week just to see what I get. We’ll see if I can find the old Go Pro camera and get it charged and working again in time. We’ll also see if John and Dale laugh at me so much that we find I can’t wear the helmet cam while working!

I did manage to get some shots after the show. John and Dale always stay out with a Bald Eagle for people to get their photos next to and a Screech Owl that they can actually touch. I grabbed a couple of quick shots during this time, but then there was just enough time to go to the restroom, pick up some lunch, and get ready for the next show.

Osceola takes a close look at Dale

The 45 minutes of that first show were the fastest 45 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

John pretends to lounge for about 30 seconds between shows in the backstage shadows

Friday Morning

Posted by dkrashb on June 2, 2013

The moon shines brightly even as sunlight begins to overtake the night sky

It’s Friday morning and incredibly early. Early that is for my recent routine, which has excluded morning biking and rowing ever since injuring my back. In truth, my back has recovered and it’s time to get back on the bike and into the boat, I just haven’t managed to get out of bed early enough.

But today is Friday. And Friday is special. On Friday I get out of bed at 5:15AM whether I feel like it or not. I do this for two reasons. The first is because I have yet to regret it. In fact, each and every Friday that I crawl out of bed at 5:15AM, by 6:30, I’m glad I did.

Friday morning yoga class starts at 6:30AM. We are a small little family of 4, sometimes 5, that reunites each Friday morning (when we’re all in town) to spend an hour breathing, stretching, strengthening together.

The second reason I get up at 5:15AM for my Friday morning yoga class is that it’s my class. I mean, I feel personally committed to this class. It’s not something that exists whether I show up or not; it’s something that exists because I show up.

This is partially factual. The instructor has told us he needs 3 regular students for it to be worth it to him to get up at whatever time he has to get up to drive down from Lookout Mountain in time to beat us all there. And, since he travels a lot, he counts on us to show when he has a sub because it’s hard for him to find a substitute.

And so, feeling both that I know I will enjoy the class once I get there and the sense of responsibility to keep going so that the class doesn’t go away, I rush through my pre-yoga morning routine. I double-up on walking Tisen and drinking coffee at the same time (something I find hazardous and usually avoid) to save 15 minutes. This gives me time to climb the sledding hill with Tisen in tow and take some panoramic pictures before dawn. The iPhone has lots of noise in low-light photos, but I can’t resist capturing the bright moon next to the early morning light.

The other side of the scene–no moon, but dark clouds instead

When I get to class on this particular Friday morning, there are 4 additional students. One has been coming for quite a few weeks now and is at risk of being considered a “regular.” The other three are new additions. It’s nice to have the extra students–it helps reduce the responsibility of being reliable enough to keep the class going.

I finish the class and find myself smiling–one of the common side effects of yoga. I return home to find Tisen lying by the door waiting for me. I take him for a longer walk in the now fully-risen sun. We pause long enough at the riverfront to take one more panoramic photo.

A panoramic view of the bridges and aquarium of the Chattanooga waterfront

Final Point

Posted by dkrashb on June 1, 2013

Moccasin Bend one last time

I have a few photos from Point Park to wrap up on. I shot one last look from the overlook with my DSLR vs a panoramic on the iPhone (which I have rapidly become addicted to). With my 24-70mm lens on the camera, this was as wide as I could go. If I would have stepped back a few feet, I might have been able to get all of the Tennessee River into the frame as it winds its way around Moccasin Bend. But then I would have had more crap in the foreground. Perhaps I will through my 17-35mm lens on the next time we go up to Point Park.

After enjoying the view from Ochs Museum overlook, we headed back up the slightly more rugged trail than the asphalt trail that circles the main portion of the park. Tisen didn’t seem to want to leave the cool shade next to Ochs museum as we made our way back. It wasn’t that hot out, but perhaps it feels warmer to someone wearing fur?

Tisen trying to go the wrong way

The trail heads uphill on the way back. When you walk down it, you don’t realize you’re going downhill. Yet, when you walk back up it, you definitely do notice the uphill. Fortunately, the entire path is well-shaded so even our hot dog didn’t overcook.

As we got closer to the asphalt paved and landscaped part of the park, I noticed a crooked tree highlighted in a beam of bright sunlight. It was perched on the sharp edge of a fallen rock and growing with a 90 degree bend in the middle of its trunk. I had a sudden vision of the rock having once been part of the mountain and this tree deciding it would conquer this rock some day as it spread its roots into every crack and crevice. I imagined this bent and tiny tree feeling victorious for having brought down the rock after so many years of patient growing. I wonder if a tree or water dripping is faster when it comes to carving off chunks of stone cliffs?

The victorious tree

We made it safely back to the asphalt path that circles the landscaped part of the park. We walked slowly around the park, allowing Tisen to sniff and explore as far as his leash would reach. He paused to heed the call of nature more times than seemed physically possible, but you know how male dogs are about marking new territory.

As we waited, a female dog came over with her humans to say hello. After a little doggy socialization, we headed back toward the park entrance. Along the way, I spotted Sunset Rock off in the distance through the trees, looking much further away than I remembered. I smiled sheepishly since I had wanted to walk all the way to Sunset Rock, believing it to be less than a mile from Point Park. Pat gave me a side-ways glance that said, “Less than a mile, huh?”

Flipped and Whopper-Jawed

Posted by dkrashb on May 31, 2013

I have so many tips for you today! First, let’s talk about when your computer display suddenly turns upside down. I remember the trauma of getting my first Windows PC plopped on my desk at work and having my UNIX-based Sun Workstation carted away like it was yesterday. That was nearly 18 years ago now.

In all those years, in spite of having just about every problem imaginable, including a few that people didn’t believe unless they saw it themselves, I never had my display suddenly appear upside down. Not until yesterday, that is.

As it turns out, on a Windows PC, if, for reasons I haven’t come up with yet, you want your display upside down, you can hit the CTRL-ALT-Down Arrow keys simultaneously and your display will flip. Use CTRL-ALT-Up Arrow to flip it right side up again. This only works for monitors, not built-in laptop screens.

Yes, my computer is displaying upside down

I was quite surprised to learn this trick when I was attempting another 3-key command (CTRL-SHIFT-Down Arrow) in Excel, which will select everything in the column you’re cursor is in in a spreadsheet. Imagine my surprise when, not even knowing what actual combination of keys I’d just hit, my screen went black and then turned back on upside down! I was so amused, I took a picture and texted it to my Bestie in the middle of the work day!

The rest of my tips for today are iPhone photography related. All are using the panoramic feature, which I am enjoying immensely.

The image you see as you’re shooting is significantly taller than what will be in the actual image. In this panoramic taken from the top of the sledding hill, I thought I had Tisen positioned nicely as I twirled around the hill with the camera pointed down the slopes. As it turned out, I nearly cut Tisen out of the photo all together.
Learning the hard way that the image isn’t as tall as it looks when you’re shooting
It’s hard to hold the phone vertically, keep it level, and keep your fingers out of the image, especially while holding a dog leash. Stand on the leash, hold the phone on the outside edges, and try not to shoot when the sun is directly overhead, making it almost impossible to see the screen and recognize when your fingers are in the photo.
Scene plus finger plus some whopper-jawedness looking away from the riverfront
If you get whopper-jawed as you pan, stop moving and get yourself level again before continuing around the scene. The iPhone camera will wait for you to get situated. In this photo, I stopped 2x and I can’t find where. In the first of the panoramic images above, can you see where I got whopper-jawed and kept on going as I straightened out the camera?
Scene along the riverfront from the sledding hill
Panoramic images work best when the scene is further away. Close up objects are less interesting for some reason. Well, at least the ones I chose.
Some subjects look best in “normal” images.
My handsome boy is easier to frame well in a “normal” shot

Random Musings

Posted by dkrashb on May 30, 2013

Pat and Tisen take a turn posing for me amongst a crowd on the way to the point

I don’t have much more to say about Point Park, but I don’t have any other photos, so this is a disconnected blog post–the text has nothing to do with the photos.

A colleague of mine lost his father on Tuesday. His father was relatively young and presumably healthy–he died quite unexpectedly of an aneurism. It’s funny how such a tragedy in someone else’s family can feel like my own tragedy. I guess I can make anything about me.

Up close, I managed to get Tisen looking my way

But this is how my mind works: person dies. Did person who died have a fulfilling life? Were they ready to die? Did they feel like they had done the things they wanted to do in their lifetime? My gosh. I’m going to die. I am not immortal. I have so many things I want to do before my life ends. This person died without warning or symptoms of anything. What if I just dropped dead tomorrow? My bucket list would be left behind, ridiculous in its length.

These moments always serve as a reminder that I’m rapidly approaching the age at which my mother was diagnosed with cancer. On one hand, I am confident I do not have cancer and that I will not have cancer. On the other hand, I find myself puzzled by the notion of finding a balance point between experiencing everything life has to offer and having things like health insurance. In the event I am wrong that I will not have cancer, it would be really helpful to have insurance. And income. Two very helpful things if faced with a potentially life-threatening disease.

I couldn’t choose between the previous shot and this one–Tisen is looking so cute

But if you spend all your time and energy worrying about having things like health insurance and income to cover you and your family in the event you have a life-threatening illness, isn’t it just possible that you create that illness? I mean, the stress and worry and long work hours. Do they not increase the probability of what you most want to avoid coming to fruition?

The back wall of the Ochs Museum at the point looks a little prison-like

On the other hand, if you throw caution to the wind, pursue your dreams and live hand to mouth with no health insurance, what happens then? And it’s not just me I worry about. What if my husband gets sick or my dog? There would be nothing worse than having to watch my dog suffer without being able to do anything for him. Or having to put him down solely because I couldn’t afford to treat what ailed him.

These are the kinds of choices I dread. So, instead, I go to work each morning and I enjoy the other freedoms that comes from having an income and health insurance. But, some days I wonder if a) I am kidding myself about the level of security I really have–it could all go away in an instant, and b) if I were on my death bed, would I regret not having health insurance or not having traveled the continent more?

I was a little too busy framing the foreground rocks to get Moccasin Bend framed properly

Power Point

Posted by dkrashb on May 29, 2013

Pausing just long enough for a quick pose is enough to make Tisen yawn

Here’s a tip about Point Park on Lookout Mountain: there’s a parking lot with free parking behind the shrubs across the street from the park entrance. It took us two trips up there before we figured out that really was free parking. Even on Memorial Day weekend, there was still an empty space. Most people are so busy figuring out where they can park at the meters on the same side of the street as the park that they fail to notice the entrance to the free parking on the left (us included). We’ve been up there at times when the pay parking spaces were completely full while there was only one car in the free parking lot.

A second tip is that if you are local and go there often, a park pass is only $20 and it allows you take up to 5 guests with you each time you go. I trip with 6 adults is $18, so it doesn’t take long to pay for itself.

Perhaps the view is best enjoyed without a yawning holstein?

A third tip is that if you’d rather not pay to get into Point Park, you could hike there from Cravens House and come in the back way. You might have to go back the same way, but the round trip can be as short as 2 miles depending on which trail you take.

I needed a tripod to get this straight, but I managed to get a shot with the sun behind me at least

The final tip is that if you like to take photos, go early. This is a tip I have yet to take. We scheduled a trip up to Point Park to get there shortly before sunset our first time out to the point. When we arrived, more and more park rangers kept arriving and running past us. Then, an ambulance arrived and they took a stretcher down the main path out to the point. They returned with a man on the gurney who had apparently been climbing on some rocks along the trail until he slipped, fell, and broke at least 1 rib, they thought.

In honor of Memorial Day, we stopped to read the stories of the battles on the memorial

I don’t know if it was because the rangers were on high alert that evening or if they’re always so insistent on emptying the park right at sunset, but they came down to the overlook we were at where I was shooting away as the sun sunk towards the horizon and told us to go home before the sunset was below the horizon. Since some of the best sunset shots come after the sun has set, this was a bit disappointing. I was counting on being able to shoot until dusk. But the park closes “at sunset,” which I guess can be left to a ranger’s discretion.

Tisen is rather irreverent when it comes to appreciating battlefields

However, the park opens at 6AM. So, there’s plenty of time to get there and get setup for sunrise shots, although I guess the sun will be rising before 6:30AM soon.

While I work on mustering the courage to get up that early, I try to ignore the harsh shadows in my mid-day shots, wishing I had better timing.

Tisen and Pat seem to be having a sidebar–I think they were plotting against me

iPhonoramic

Posted by dkrashb on May 28, 2013

Mocassin Bend from the Point at Point Park, Lookout Mountain

Back home in Chattanooga after a week away at a work conference resulted in two things. First, a lot of napping and second, a disappointingly dull Memorial Day weekend.

Feeling obligated to do something both celebratory and respectful of those who have served, we managed to muster enough energy to go up to the military park on Lookout Mountain, Point Park, and take Tisen on a walk around the point.

If you’ve been reading my blog for very long, you’ve undoubtedly seen photos from Point Park many times–it’s one of my favorite places to take visitors because of the spectacular views from the point.

And, in fact, I took enough photos for at least two more posts (sorry), but for today’s post, I thought I would share my iPhone panoramic experience.

Another go at Moccasin Bend – almost level

First, I confess, I was not an early adopter of this capability. I updated my iPad to iOS 6 (the update required) months ago when it first became available. However, updating erased all the data on my iPad, which I restored from backup. Since I wasn’t sure I had a backup of my iPhone, I waited to upgrade until I had a chance to do a full backup. It took the moment when I was in the Grand Ole Opry wishing I could take a panoramic shot on Wednesday night before I had sufficient motivation to do the backup and upgrade process.

At long last, I made time for the upgrade (iOS 6 has been out so long, it’s moved on to 6.1 now) on Friday night. Ironically, I immediately forgot I’d upgraded and now had the ability to do panoramic images. In fact, it wasn’t until I got to the point in Point Park and saw a guy pull out his iPhone and start taking a panoramic shot that I remembered I too now had this amazing “new” technology!

Another way to get Panoramic–using Stitch to piece together multiple photos in software

Truthfully, the ability to produce panoramic images has been around for many years. I believe the first Canon digital camera I ever bought back in the late 90’s came with software called “Stitch” that would allow you to put together multiple photos into a single panoramic view. If it wasn’t with my first digital camera, it was certainly with my second in 2003. I have silly looking panoramic shots where the photos create a rather embarrassing curved shape. If they weren’t on a different computer, I would post one for you now.

A really old-fashioned way to get a panoramic image–crop to panoramic dimensions

By comparison, the iPhone panoramic feature is easy to use. Rather than taking a bunch of photos individually and either using a tripod or hope to line them up horizontally so you can “stitch” them together in software later, the iPhone uses a video-like mode and guides you through capturing 240 degrees of image while it automatically puts the images together into one. The result? Well, you go home with a panoramic already done. On the down side, the exposure is set from where you start, so choose your starting place carefully.

Starting the image capture in the shadows results in an overexposed bright area

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