Category Archives: Visiting

Road Trip

Posted by dkrashb on
Gina looking fierce in front of unwanted graffiti

Gina looking fierce in front of unwanted graffiti

Loading the car for a road trip used to be simple.  It was a matter of throwing in a small bag with some clean underwear, a change of clothes, maybe some special face soap, and, of course, my purse.  Now, it takes a whole lot more.

This would be a little more timeless without the sunglasses

This would be a little more timeless without the sunglasses

There’s the additional wardrobe required for business meetings.  This, of course, must be accompanied by additional baggage required for a laptop, a phone, a tablet, 3 chargers, headphones, business cards, and miscellaneous forms of paper.

Then there’s the additional wardrobe required for hanging out with friends and encountering a variety of social settings.  Limiting myself to 2 pairs of shoes is quite a challenge.

This reminds me of the kinds of photos my grandparents used to take

This reminds me of the kinds of photos my grandparents used to take

But the mass of what I loaded into the car was photography equipment.  It took two big bags of stuff plus my tripod–that’s without my umbrella stands.  Had I brought Tisen with me, the volume of stuff would have doubled.  Fortunately, my husband is taking care of Tisen for a few days and we’ll meet up later.

I managed to get the car loaded in one trip with my husband’s help.

I like driving.  At least, I like it until miscellaneous body parts start going numb, my shoulders start burning, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw like I’m performing one of those rope tricks in a circus where a lady is spun and swung all over the place while she bites on a rope.  Then, I would like a more comfortable seat and perhaps a massage.

I keep thinking I should make the drive at a leisurely pace, stopping to shoot interesting sights and exploring the area each time I stop.  Unfortunately, I never have that kind of time to get from one place to another.  This time, I opted to drive a few hours the night before I needed to arrive at my destination.  Then, I stopped at a hotel for the night before driving the rest of the way.  This divided the drive up nicely, allowing me to get a decent night’s sleep and also to miss rush hour traffic outside a major city in the morning.  Had I not stopped, I would have needed to leave by 5AM to make sure I got to my meeting on time.

Gill and Gina looking strangely contemporary in this tintype-effect Hipstamatic shot

Gill and Gina looking strangely contemporary in this tintype-effect Hipstamatic shot

After doing my work stuff, I got to have some time to relax with my hosts, who we like to call Gina and Gill.  It’s a beautiful sunny day for a change.  Gina and Gill have the perfect porch for a sunny day.  We ended up hanging out on said porch, enjoying the warmth and the breezes.  I decided that the big front porch on their 100+ year old house was the perfect setting to pull out the Hipstamatic app and use the tintype film.

After taking a few shots of Gina and Gill on the front porch, Gina and I took a little walk where we found some unpleasant graffiti to shoot her in front of.  I like the urban look.

Hip Art

Posted by dkrashb on
We arrived after the yoga class had already started

We arrived after the yoga class had already started

One of the unintended consequences of playing more with my iPhone photo capabilities is that I sometimes lose track of what photos I’ve taken.  Take today’s selection, for example.  When I shoot with my DSLR, I have to pull out my CF card, put it into a card reader, and plug it into the computer to download the images.  By comparison, photos on my iPhone just magically appear on my computer without me doing anything.  It’s so magical that I don’t always remember to go look for the photos.

Not everyone participated in yoga

Not everyone participated in yoga–or maybe they did?

So, today, when I discovered these Hipstomatic images from two weekends ago when my brother and sister-in-law were visiting, it was like finding a gift hidden in the back of a closet.

The continuation of the sculptures down the hillside

The continuation of the garden down the hillside

The Bluff View Art District is a lovely little area on top of the bluff across the Tennessee River.  It’s a collection of historical houses turned into bed and breakfasts, restaurants, and a bakery and coffee roasting company.  The entire district is rumored to be owned by one person.  Although, the district is only one small square, we’re talking at least 6 or so large mansions that have been renovated and turned into successful businesses.

View down the hillside overlooking Veteran's Bridge

View down the hillside overlooking Veteran’s Bridge

The first time Pat and I came to Chattanooga, we stayed in one of the bed and breakfasts.  The one we were in looks over the cliff and offers spectacular views from the patio and bocci courts.

It's a good thing this hang glider can never take off--that wing won't get him very far

It’s a good thing this hang glider can never take off–that wing won’t get him very far

However, it was January, so we didn’t really spend a lot of time on the courtyard.  The other part of the Bluff View Art District we missed was the sculpture garden.  It’s a beautiful garden that’s deceptive in size–from the street, you assume it is only a strip of grass.  But once you enter the garden, you see that it rolls down the hill further than is visible from the road.

The sculpture of fish normally has water flowing over it, but it was cool looking with the water off, too

The sculpture of fish normally has water flowing over it, but it was cool looking with the water off, too

While I probably wouldn’t drive hours out of my way to see the sculpture garden, I thought it was worth taking my brother and sister-in-law across the bridge to check it out before they headed home.  Given the weather was rainy and dreary, we decided to drive over.

Another view of the physics-challenged hang glider

Another view of the physics-challenged hang glider–if this is Icarus, it explains a lot

We made our way slowly through the garden, me exercising my Histamatic app thoroughly along the way.  Many sculptures had been added since the last time I’d been in the sculpture garden.  It was really nice.

Sometimes, Hipstamatic randomly changes the lens/film on me--I kind of liked this though

Sometimes, Hipstamatic randomly changes the lens/film on me–I kind of liked this though

As we turned a corner to enter a stone patio area, a smiling young woman looked at us and said, “I just got engaged!!!”  She was so excited, I almost laughed out loud.  I realized she probably wouldn’t understand the humor.   I don’t mean to sound jaded, but let’s face it, getting engaged is the easiest part of being married.

My brother and sister-in-law--looking as happy as ever

My brother and sister-in-law–looking as happy as ever

We got caught in her enthusiasm and took pictures of the two of them together with their camera.  The boyfriend had managed to pull off the engagement as a big surprise.  It seemed like they were going to get off to a great start.

Tisen doesn't quite fit in the frame when I attempt an aerial view

Tisen doesn’t quite fit in the frame when I attempt an aerial view

The Pearl

Posted by dkrashb on

The Pearl District in Portland is a fun place to visit whether you prefer books, food, architecture, history, or beer.  Oh, or hippies.

It’s the kind of place where no one stares at me for walking around in hiking socks with my hiking sandals.  I guess with a North Face store and an REI in the neighborhood, it might even be considered fashionable.

There are also two breweries:  Rogue and Deschutes.  And, of course, a wide assortment of pubs and restaurants.

If you happen to be off work on a sunny afternoon in downtown Portland with great friends who have driven down from Seattle, this is the perfect place for a pub crawl.  Well, in our case it wasn’t so much a pub crawl as a stuff-yourself-silly-and-drink-a-flight-of-beer crawl.

It started when we decided we were starving for lunch.  My friend asked a mail carrier who happened to be walking by and he suggested Jake’s Grill at the Governor’s Hotel.  We ate way too much.

Then, after wandering around, we decided to check out the Deschutes brewery since it just happened to appear in front of us.  Deschutes has its own ambience with lots of high ceilings and dark woods and even elaborately carved decor.  But my favorite part of the decor was the “Restrooms Over There” sign with an arrow pointing to a large neon sign over the door to the restrooms that said “Over Here!”

But maybe that seemed funnier after we finished our flight of beer samples?

I think the blurry shots inside the pub perfectly captured the way it looked to me.

The beers were interesting.  A couple of them had an after taste that made me think someone had emptied an ash tray into the keg.  What was really interesting was that Pat tasted ashes in brews that finished smoothly for me and one of our friends.  But our friend and I tasted ashes in brews that Pat couldn’t taste it in.  Our theory is that Pat’s German taste buds are tuned differently than our more watered-down American taste buds.

Having finished our flights, the only thing left to do was to wander around some more and start to plan for dinner.  Never mind we’d eaten just 3 hours earlier.  We found an interesting seafood place we wanted to try from my iPhone. As we walked in the general direction of the restaurant, we thought maybe we would stop at another pub first just to kill some time.  But, everywhere we stopped, the bar was full.

We eventually and accidentally ended up at Jake’s Seafood, which was not the restaurant we had selected.  Giving up on the idea of having a drink at the bar, we got a table.  Once we were seated, we felt obligated to order dinner.

As it turned out Jake’s Seafood had been around for 120 years.  The food was fabulous, but my advice is don’t go there when you’re not hungry–it’s a shame to waste the experience.

Powell’s Books

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Every town has a store that everyone who visits must go to.  It’s a rule.  If you’re going to build a town and people are going to come visit it, there must be at least one retail establishment that everyone wants to go to while they’re there.  I don’t know what this place is for a lot of towns I’ve been to, but I know it’s there.  In Portland, Powell Books is the must-see tourist store (although it seems to have a lyal local following too, which has to help financially).

I used to think the OSU library was enormous.  Towers and towers of books.  I don’t know if a city block of book is larger or not, but it sure feels bigger.  When you walk into Powell’s, you have to reference a map with a color-coded key that tells you where different types of books are.  I guess you don’t have to reference it, really.  But, having spent a considerable amount of time wandering around looking for something, I strongly advise it.

Once you figure out which wing of the building the book you’re looking for resides in, you still must navigate the building that corresponds to that selection to find it.  It’s one of those bookstores that makes you understand why bookstores have librarians on had to find books you’re looking for and direct you to it.

There was a time when I could spend an entire day wandering around a book store.  These days, only the Apple store could keep me occupied that long.  Instead of lingering among books that smell like they’ve been lingering far longer, I have gravitated to the electronic version of books.  Given that I carry an iPad and iPhone with me virtually everywhere I go, it seems like a better use of the products I already own to double up the value of my investment.

Besides, who wants to haul more than 1 big dusty volume from the 18th century or earlier?

We are at Powell’s Books with our friends from Seattle today.  They have never been inside before, so we suddenly feel like tour guides.  We step inside and consult the map.  We point to different sections of the store.  My friend wants one particular book.  she asks for assistance to find it.  It’s located right next to where we’re standing.  We go get in line, check out, and leave.  We walked out without remembering to take them through the entire building.  Some tour guides!

In a New York Minute

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New York City is . . . You could finish that sentence with just about anything. For me, it’s mostly been a place I go for work or a place I go through on the way to somewhere else. However, there have been a few times when I’ve gotten to spend a justo here for fun.

The most recent time was a few years ago now. I stayed with a friend for the 4th of July weekend on a lagoon in NJ. Most of the Jersey shore lagoons are trapped in concrete and look like man made creations, much like the characters on the reality show (sorry, couldn’t help myself). But it’s surprising to someone who has spent as much time in “The Garden State” as I have just how much of the inner inner coastal areas are as dedicated to boating as the actual coastline is.

As someone who grew up as inland as it gets, the coast always seemed like a definitive line between land and ocean. In reality, the ocean gives way gradually to land, meandering its way deeply into every crevice. While me might intuitively guess at the movement of water, I tend to think of it as moving outward from the land to the ocean and had been oblivious to the interplay of water coming in.

My friend and I took a day off work and took the train from Brick, NJ to somewhere in New York City. We saw so many boats on the way, I thought we had taken a train to Miami.
Once we arrived in the city, however, the boats were all but forgotten. It’s hard to remember Manhattan is an island. It’s amazing it doesn’t just sink under the weight of all the sky scrapers it supports.

I suppose it comes as no surprise that of the dozen or so photos I took in the city, the majority were in the one park we stopped in. As much as I love visiting cities, I’m always relieved to find a bit off green space producing enough oxygen I feel I can breathe again. We were no where near Central Park, but Bryant Park provided exactly what I needed.
We had a fantastic dinner at a place that specialized in artisan cheeses and then headed to Times Square and Broadway where we saw Mama Mia–it had been running for so long, we had no trouble getting tickets.

The usher/bouncer yelled at me for taking a picture before the show had even started, so I put my camera away and enjoyed the show. I’ve only seen two broadway shows on Broadway, but it is way better than seeing the Columbus, Ohio version. Only London compares to New York for Broadway shows in my limited experience.

At about 11PM, we hauled our shopping bags from Broadway to the train and made our way back to Brick feeling like we couldn’t have stayed awake through one more New York minute.

Therapy Dog

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There are many reasons to love dogs.  Each dog has his or her own unique personality.  Since I was revisiting old photos recently, I discovered this set of not-so-great-shots of one of the best dogs ever, Bogart.

Unfortunately, Bogart is no longer with us.  But, for over half of his life, he acted as a therapy dog at the assisted living facility where my aunt lived for the last 6 years of her life.

Bogart went to visit every two weeks.  We would sit in the common area outside the dining room at lunch time on Sundays.  As the residents would come out of the dining room, they would stop and pet Bogart.  As a therapy dog, Bogart’s job was to look cute, be calm, and accept love and affection from anyone who wanted to offer it.  He was really good at his job.

Because many of the residents suffered from Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia, the conversation was the same every two weeks:

“Oh, my!  I’ve never seen such a big dog!  How much does he weight?”

“He has gray on his face–how old is he?”

“What’s his name?”

“How much does he eat?”

These questions were typically repeated about every 3 minutes by each resident.  I went mentally prepared to repeat the answers endlessly with a tone of voice that sounded like I’d never been asked those questions before.  I concentrated on how much they loved my dog and how much joy he brought to them–that made irritation impossible.

Interestingly, my aunt had always been afraid of Bogart prior to his visits.  I don’t know if she just forgot her fear as part of the process of dementia or if seeing others enjoy petting him made her feel proud that he was there to see her and she wanted to claim him.  Whatever the reason, she went from only being comfortable looking at him from a distance to enjoying sitting right next to him and petting his head.

There was one lady in particular who loved Bogart.  I always thought she would be able to remember him because she loved him so much.  And she did remember him sometimes.  But if she missed one of his visits, we would start over the next time we came in.  Although, there is something to be said for being able to be joyfully surprised by the same thing over and over again.

Bogart clearly knew the people.  He knew who was comfortable enough with him that he could stick his giant head in their lap, who was nervous and preferred if he kept his distance, and who would figure out a way to rub his belly, even if it meant they would need to sit in a chair and use their foot because they couldn’t bend over so well.

It made visits with my aunt something I looked forward to–Bogart was quite the ambassador.

Sunless in Seattle

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I love flying over Seattle.  There’s almost always clouds below the plane, blanketing the sky.  Then, suddenly, the peak of a mountain pops through like a giant whitehead.  Only an attractive one.  Mt Rainier particularly stands out.  Perhaps because it’s so rarely been visible from the ground on any of my trips to the area.

These photos are from the first time I went to Seattle, which wasn’t until 2004.  We went to visit some friends who had moved out there from Columbus.  We spent most of our time North of Seattle, but we decided to spend the last day of our trip downtown, exploring the city.

The Experience Music Project and Space Needle were two of the sites on our “must see” list.  Since they were co-located, it was pretty easy to work them both into our schedule.  As luck would have it, we had beautiful blue skies and sunshine that entire trip until the day we went into downtown Seattle.  I don’t know if this is because there is some sort of vortex over Seattle and causes it to be cloudy and rainy there all the time or if the maximum number of sunny days had been reached and the clouds were turned back on.

As we approached the EMP Museum, it looked mostly like a sheen of gray against a gray sky, drenched in gray mist.  We were happy to go inside.

Seeing the collections of guitars was pretty exciting to my husband.  A little less so to me.  But, the tornado of guitars was pretty impressive.  In truth, there could have been absolutely nothing inside that building and I could have spent the entire day trying to figure out how to shoot its strange curves and intersecting angles.  Armed only with my PowerShot G3 at the time, I struggled with the lighting conditions for starters.  But more than that, trying to find a logical edge to decide on what to include and exclude from the frame seemed impossible as each shape flowed into the next.  Each attempt at framing a shot seemed like I was cutting off the flow.  Most of my shots are not even interesting enough to include with this post.

After exploring the interactive exhibits in the EMP, we made our way over to the Space Needle.  In spite of he rain, the view was pretty impressive.  We looked straight down on the EMP and got to look at the shape of tis exterior.  We also got a clearer view of how colorful the exterior really is.

The Space Needle also afforded some great looks at the ports below.  Down in the park below, a group of kids were playing with giant water canons permanently mounted there.  I found it amusing that they were squirting each other with water while it was raining.

By the time we’d stood out on the observation deck for 10 minutes, we were both looking like drowned rats.

Slow the Circles Down

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If you have read some of my earliest posts, you may recall that I have issues with going backwards.  I arrange my life around maximum efficiency whenever possible by minimizing repetition, back-tracking, and wasted motion.

There are some consequences associated with this.  For one, I tend to focus on the goal and not on the journey.  The very physical consequence is that I frequently run into things.  I think this may also serve well as a metaphor.

Another consequence is that I often move on completely and usually without regret.  Been there, done that.  I’m over it.  Time for the next adventure.

But every once in a while, something sticks and I don’t mind going back to it over and over.  The Tennessee Aquarium is one of those things.  Every time I go, I discover something new.  Someone is awake who was sleeping last time.  Or the absence of someone else allows me to see others for the first time.  And there are certain exhibits I never tire of.  I have to refrain from block tackling all the small children at the display where you can touch the stingrays–the darn kids are always in my way.

When it comes to shooting at the aquarium, it remains a challenge.  Trying to shoot through glass is always an interesting proposition.  Between the distortions and the bright reflections in the glass, the dim lighting, and the movement of the creatures, it’s a wonder anyone ever gets a shot of anything.

Using a flash helps if you have the right angle.  I admit I love watching people with their little automatic point-and-shoots standing directly in front of the glass and getting frustrated when the image they get is the flash bouncing off the glass.  In my defense, I only get a chuckle out of this because they’re usually doing this right in front of a big sign that says “NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY.”  It just seems like karma.

I, however, usually opt for no flash in the aquarium.  This is for several reasons.  First, I’d rather end up with blurry pictures than disturb the animals (anymore than they are already being disturbed).  Second, I still pretty much suck at using a flash.  And finally, I really want to set the flash up off-camera, but that doesn’t work well in a crowded aquarium.  Try to imagine me carrying my umbrella stand around and yelling at small children when they bump into it.  Does not make for a good time.

But, when we took Pat’s family there during their visit, the otters decided to make an appearance.  I find it fascinating when looking at the otter shots that the otter moves faster than the water.  Where the water splashes are frozen, the otter blurs.  None-the-less, I couldn’t help but share my blurry, badly framed shots of the otter doing a back flip.  That was just too adorable.

Maybe next time I’ll catch a stingray jumping out of the tank.

New Sight

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Ever since our first weekend visit to Chattanooga a year and a half ago, I have wanted to peruse the Hunter Museum of American Art.  The building itself has appeared in many of my photos.  Perched high on the bluff overlooking the Tennessee River next to the Walnut Street Bridge, it’s a place I have walked around many, many times.

I just haven’t made it inside.

But, with temperatures rising into the 100’s in time for Pat’s family to arrive in Chattanooga and an enticing exhibit called Sound and Vision:  Monumental Rock and Roll Photography, it was clearly time to go.

I would love to have access to shoot the interior of Hunter Museum when no one is there.  As it was, tripod-less and hurried, I didn’t do the architecture justice.  Photos of the photos were not permitted, but it’s just as well.  The photos in the exhibit should not be reproduced by taking crappy pictures of them hanging on the wall.

I wanted to spend hours absorbing each of them.  So many of the muscians I had come to know and love were so artfully captured.  I wanted to know why.  Why was each image so uniquely powerful?  I looked at each photo going through a portrait photographer’s checklist:  eyes lit well, subject framed with rule of thirds, soft light, subject fills frame, etc, etc.  Every image violated at least one if not many of the “rules” of portraiture.  I’ve suspected as much.  If you want an interesting portrait, you’ve got to do something different.  I can’t wait to go back when I can sit and absorb some more.

We moved on through the permanent exhibits in the museum, including those in the historic mansion portion of this building.  Once again, I wish I had the opportunity to do the architecture justice.  I’m not always a fan of deconstructivist architecture (except for the inherent irony in the term), but somehow the juxtaposition of the historic mansion against the ultra-modern section works.  Apparently the ultra modern section was designed by a student of Frank Gehry (according to an employee of the museum).  There is certainly a resemblance in the style.

Later that night, we went up to Lookout Mountain to celebrate Pat’s 50th birthday.  I’m now married to a 50 year old.  It bothers him, not me.  Pat’s sister was supposed to join us, but having missed her flight from Denver, she didn’t arrive until after dinner.  We took Pat’s parents to Point Park before she arrived and then ended up back there again first thing the next morning.

An interesting comparison in the photos (at least to me):  I was shooting with my 16-35mm lens in the evening shots and with my 100-400mm the next morning.  I managed to get a shot of our building at 400mm.  It doesn’t make a very good image with the morning haze, but it still blows my mind that we can see our building from Point Park.

When Wrong Goes Right

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We have been taking a break from hang gliding for several months now.  It’s one of those things–first we were taking a break so our knees could heal.  Then, Pat started working every weekend getting his new guitar-building business going.  All work and no play was getting old.

Then, when Pat’s family came to town to celebrate Pat’s milestone birthday with us, we managed to talk his sister into going for a tandem flight.

Talking someone else into doing a tandem flight is different from deciding as a couple that it’s something you want to do together.  There is a completely different sense of responsibility–probably heightened by the fact that this was Pat’s baby sister (never mind that she’s now in her 30’s and more than capable of making up her own mind).  While I felt obligated to make her aware that there were risks, I didn’t want to scare her out of it because it’s one of those experiences you keep for a lifetime.

As we headed out to the mountain for Pat’s sister’s flight, I had one of my mental glitches that caused me to take us completely the wrong way.

As we drove as fast as was allowed in the wrong direction on a lonely 2-lane highway, we spotted a large dog staggering toward us in the middle of the lane.  We also noticed it had a collar, so we swerved around it and started looking for houses, assuming its home had to be close–it was barely able to walk.

Pat’s sister immediately wanted to stop and pick up the dog.  I think we were all thinking the same thing, but we didn’t want to steal someone’s dog.  As luck would have it, we soon realized we were going the wrong way and needed to turn around.  By this time, we realized there were no houses in the vicinity and there was no way that dog had gotten there on its own.

When we got back to where it was, it had collapsed in the middle of the road.  We blocked traffic with our car, got out Tisen’s water bowl and gave the dog water.  Then, we managed to urge it to get into our van, although Tisen wasn’t so happy about sharing his ride.

Since our safe-harbor dog shelter didn’t open for hours, we went ahead and took Pat’s sister to the flight park.  When we finally got Pat’s sister signed up for her flight, we asked if anyone wanted a dog.  It looked like a poorly bred Mastiff.  Her hips were so bad, she could barely walk.  She was dirty and smelled like she’d been lying in poop.  She had ticks and probably fleas.  We were certain she’d been dumped.  No one was interested.

Pat’s sister took her flight full of joy knowing that the dog was safe. She said the tandem flight was 2nd to rescuing the dog on her list of things that made her trip.  She wasn’t alone in her thinking.