Tag Archives: landscape photography

Mountain vs Couch

Posted by dkrashb on

As much as I love to be active, there’s a part of me that would really prefer to lay on the couch all day.  That part of me was screaming when we decided to try mountain biking for the first time in Jasper National Park several years ago.

Fortunately for me, I was still shooting with my PowerShot G3 at the time, which weighed approximately 1/3 what my current camera with a wide angle lens would weigh.

When the locals we talked to assured us that there was a “super easy” trail just outside of town that was only 10 miles long, I imagined it would take about an hour to cruise around this loop trail.  I planned for us to take it easy, stopping for a picnic lunch by a lake and having a leisurely day.  As we headed out for the trail, I wondered what we would do the rest of the afternoon.

When we got to the trailhead, we found if we went to the South, it looked flat.  If we went North, it was a very steep climb right from the start.  We, naturally, went South.  Of course, after about 100 yards, the trail turned uphill and we began the most painful climb of our lives.  Painful for two reasons:  first, our lungs (and every muscle in our bodies) were burning trying to keep the bikes moving up and over roots, rocks, bumps, and pot holes as we climbed.  Second, we were crawling along at such a slow pace that the plentiful mosquitos were keeping up with us.

When we encountered objects beyond our skill level to get over or around, we fell over.  Once we fell over, we had to push the bike along until we got to a flat enough place to get started again.

I pushed the bike up a hill at a run with my rain jacket on and the hood up trying to get away from the mosquitos.  I’ve been riding bikes a long time.  I’m pretty sure that “riding” doesn’t mean taking your bike out for a run.

After stopping for a quick lunch (due to the mosquitos) in a spot where we could watch loons on a lake, we turned around and started heading downhill back home.  We came to a screeching halt when Pat spotted a black bear peeking at us from behind a shrub.  Eventually, the bear figured out we were humans and took off.  We went on our way singing loudly in the hope of scaring the bear away (anyone who has heard me sing would appreciate how effective this would be).

Then, we out-peddled the mosquitos and discovered how much fun mountain biking is when you’re going downhill!  Much better than laying on the couch.  Going up, not so much.

When at last we arrived back home, over 3 hours had passed in spite of our brief lunch.  We both needed a nap–the perfect time to hit the couch.

Reconstructing History

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While in the Canadian Rockies at Jasper National Park several years ago (still shooting with the PowerShot G3), we decided to take a “rest” day by hiking a relatively easy trail to a lake at the base of Mt Robson.  We drove from Jasper Park in Alberta to the Robson Provincial park in British Columbia in about an hour.

When we started out, the sky kept promising rain (in fact, it even sprinkled briefly), but then the clouds would part and a deep blue sky would appear.  When the sun was out, we broke a sweat working our way up the easy, but uphill, trail.  When cloud cover moved in, it was like someone had cranked up the air conditioning and I would get chilled almost immediately.

For most of the walk, the trail ran parallel to a treacherous but beautiful stream swelling with the “spring” snow melt (this was in July).  We didn’t see anyone attempting to navigate the stream, so I’m guessing the water was too intense for even really good kayakers.  It seemed like getting in the stream would be a really bad idea with or without a kayak to me.

When we arrived at Moose Lake, we were further away from the base of Mt. Robson than we expected, but given that Mt Robson is the tallest mountain in the Canadian Rockies, we still had plenty of good views of it, including the glacier nearby.

As I went through these photos from 2005, I discovered an interesting phenomenon.  I believe I was feeling lazy on this particular day not only in choosing an easy trail, but in my shooting.  I notice that the metadata in my pictures indicated I was mostly shooting with a wide-open aperture, with the smallest aperture setting being an f/8.

This was remarkable to me in two ways.  First, this is another thing to add to my list of things I’ve learned–I would not shoot these scenes with that setting today.  Second, it seems like they have much more depth of field than I would expect for such wide aperture settings.  This caused me to look at focal lengths.  They are mostly under 20mm with the shortest being 7mm (if I recall correctly).  Is that even possible?  Assuming my metadata is correct, the extremely short focal lengths are most likely contributing to the extra depth of field.  I assume I was shooting with an open aperture because we were walking in the shade quite a bit, so perhaps there wasn’t much light.

It’s always fun to try to reconstruct what happened 7 years ago based on the evidence collected in the metadata of your photos!

What I do remember clearly about this hike is that Pat and I were quite irritated with one another at the beginning of the hike, but back to laughing together by the time we were ready to return to the car.  Maybe that’s why I love hiking so much–it’s restorative in more ways than one.

Maligne Lake

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Maligne Lake takes its name from the Maligne River that feeds it. The river was apparently treacherous enough to be dubbed “malicious,” although it sounds better in French. Located in Jasper National Park in the Canadian Rockies, it’s one of those places that I had never heard of before I started researching the area while planning our first trip there.

Maligne Lake is a popular destination. The tiny island, Spirit Island, located in the lake is apparently an extremely popular destination among tourists. One cruise to the island states the island “epitomizes the Canadian Rockies.” the island is supposedly one of the most photographed sites in the Rockies.

Whenever I see a claim like that, I have to wonder how anyone knows how often a particular site has been photographed. I didn’t notice any photo detectors going off while I and the boatload of people on our cruise started shooting like mad.

I did however notice a certain calm. I don’t know if it was a case of self-fulfilling prophecy with all the build up, but the place seemed aptly named. There is something about journeying across this lake to see this tiny island that makes the trip worth it, even if it’s been done by a million people before and will be done by a million people after.
Having done our tourist duty by contributing to the Jasper economy by joining a boat tour, we then separated from the crowd and headed up to hike the Bald Hills that were immediately past the lake.

We spent the better part of the day climbing in elevation. By the time we got into the hills, we were starving. At the same time, the temperature was dropping rapidly and a cold wind kicked up. We found a rocky outcropping to shelter us from the wind and quickly learned that not only big, scary predators can be a pest if they’ve been fed. At least today we had only to outsmart the chipmunks.

After a few minutes, they were so bold that we were afraid we were going to get bit. When one actually stopped and nudged Pat with its tiny little paw as if to say, “Hey, feed me!” I started to get more nervous than when we had encountered a bear! I just kept envisioning a finger getting nipped off while we hunkered down on this remote mountain and dying of some horrible illness like rabies.

We did manage to complete our lunch without any injuries, although we did lose a crumb or two. As we walked on, we passed a slumbering yellow bellied marmot soaking up what little was left of the sun. in fact, sunshine came to an abrupt and frightening end when dark clouds rolled in and snow started falling fast. Unprepared to spend the night in a snow drift, we moved out quickly, taking the chipmunks’ last hope for a grand feast with us.

Food and Water

Posted by dkrashb on

After a few hours of wandering around Chattanooga and the Tennessee Aquarium, it was time to eat.  The six of us headed towards Big River Grille and Brewery.  Although Pat and I have been there a few times, it was the first time for dinner.

The 7-month old entertained us through the whole meal.  She is one of those babies that smiles and laughs and looks amused most of the time.

The 4-year old did some interesting things with his food.  He created a whole new presentation by rolling it into balls.  Since we had just come from the aquarium, perhaps he was thinking about fish bait–he is apparently quite the fisherman.  He already knows far more than I do about fish.

After filling our bellies, we took a brief break so we could play with the dogs and the four-year old could change.  Then, we headed over to Coolidge Park to check out the water fountain.

This is a fun feature in Coolidge Park.  Large animal sculptures surround the fountains, providing nice climbing structures.  I enjoyed shooting the 4 year old at play.

I recently had a conversation with a couple of photographers about using the “aperture priority” setting.  (Aperture priority allows you to set the aperture manually and then the camera automatically adjusts the shutter speed.)

Apparently, this was stressed as the setting to use all the time at a recent workshop.  I’m of the opinion that there is nothing that applies all the time, but aperture priority is nice when you’re shooting a subject that is moving quickly through different lighting situations.  However, I’ve found that shooting a subject where the background changes but the lighting on the subject doesn’t in aperture priority causes the subject to be incorrectly exposed depending on how light the scene is behind the subject.  For this reason, my default mode is manual.  If I change to aperture priority, I make a conscious decision to do so and I know why I’m doing it.

The irony of this is that I either had a mental malfunction that caused me to not check my exposure or my camera malfunctioned when it read the exposure.  Since I’ve not had this problem before or since, I’m guessing it was user error.  I ended up with about 300 shots that were either horribly over exposed or horribly under exposed.

If aperture priority were my default, I might not have gotten the depth of field I wanted, but I would have at least gotten properly exposed images.

The best default would probably be to always check my settings and my exposure before I fire off 300 shots.  🙂

I’m going to write to Canon and suggest an alarm that goes off if you start shooting without changing settings or viewing a shot.  It can be called the “Alzheimer’s Indicator.”  If it goes off more than 50% of the time, it’s time to get an evaluation.  Photography as diagnosis–who says it’s just a hobby?

Opportunistic Photography

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The other day, I listened to a photographer explain how he had a vision for an image of a knight in armor on a horse in fog.  He went to great lengths to find a renaissance festival where there would be jousting.  He flew to England and shot a knight in armor on a horse.  Back home, he bought a sword and shot that.  He found a dark, foggy setting, and shot that too.  Then, he Photoshopped it all together to get the image he originally imagined.

Frankly, I’ve never had a vision of anything that would motivate me to go to that much expense to create it.  I don’t know if the image was commissioned or if this was just for fun, but I cannot imagine deciding to go to England just to get an image of a knight on a horse.

Perhaps that is why my photography is not getting significantly better.  I go out with my camera in the hope of something happening that’s interesting.  I’m an opportunist.  As such, I find myself in situations where I can’t get a good angle, the light is horrible, or it’s just too intrusive or disruptive to arrange the subject or setting.

Take our recent visit with our friends who came to see us.  We spent the second day in downtown Chattanooga.  In the first image in the gallery, I told my subjects to stand still for a second and took a shot where you can barely see them.  Why did I do this?  Because they were all standing together and I knew they wouldn’t be by the time they caught up to me.

When I showed the image to my husband, I said, “You know what would make this picture better?”  He said, “If we weren’t in it?”   That’s sad–but he’s right.

Asking people to model when their intention is to have fun seems rude.  On the other hand, sometimes people really appreciate the pictures.

However, I imagine my subjects thinking things like, “How long is this going to take?  How much longer is she going to do this?”  I also find that many people think a shot I consider barely OK is wonderful.  It’s hard to imagine asking them to pose significantly longer so I can get a really great shot when they may like my hurried version just as well.

Take the shot in the gallery with the four-year-old inside a bubble in a tank at the aquarium.  He ran in there specifically so I could get a picture.  I told him he was going to need to hold really still (slow shutter speed).  That was more than I could expect from him at that time.  So, I inconvenienced him for a blurry shot of his head.  Not exactly worth the energy for either one of us.

Perhaps I just need to figure out how to be a more artistic opportunist.

Canon for Cannons

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After spending the better part of the afternoon walking around Rock City, we made a beeline for food.  We were all starving.  I got out my trusty Urbanspoon app and discovered a little place called “The Cafe on the Corner” nearby.  The food actually sounded good, too.

When we got there, it was right between the lunch and dinner crowd, which was perfect for our four year old friend–he had some space to run around.  This is the thing that amazes me about young children.  About the time I would just lay down on the floor and take a nap because I’m so tired, they are just getting started.

The Cafe on the Corner turned out to be one of those amazing finds you hope for when you pick a place to eat.  The staff was friendly and wonderfully accommodating.  They were prepared for children with a children’s menu, something to color on, and crayons.  While that can certainly improves a dining experience, I don’t really care how nice the wait staff is if the food is bad.  Fortunately for us, the food was fantastic.

The fried-green tomatoes were breaded in panko bread crumbs and served with hot and sweet jelly.  Just writing this is making my mouth water.  The grilled vegetable quesadilla I ordered was by far the best quesadilla I’ve ever had.  Oops, I drooled–let me grab a napkin.

And, truly amazing, even the kids’ food was so good that our little friend cleaned his plate without prompting!  This may be my new favorite restaurant.

After gorging on delicious food and relaxing in the cool dining room, we headed back out into the heat and made our way to Point Park.  I think Point Park is going to be on my list of places to make sure I take all visitor’s to.  Especially since it’s close to Cafe on the Corner.  🙂

The view from Point Park is pretty darn spectacular.  And, there are cannons there, which amuse most kids, but especially our little visitor.  As I watched the four year old jump up and down with excitement over the cannons in the park, I found myself wondering what the fascination with shooting people is that all children seem to have.

Is this unique to the US?  Do children in India, for example, pretend to shoot each other with their fingers?  Is this an expression of a universal need that all children experience to gain some sort of control on what seems like an uncontrollable world?

I recall playing many games involving shooting people as a child (even though my mother would not allow us to have toy guns), but I can’t remember why that seemed like so much fun.

As adults, we enjoyed the view more than the cannons, I think.  Although, I enjoyed my Canon very much–taking many pictures.  Unfortunately, the light was not so good as seems to be true most of the time when I shoot opportunistically.  It was still fun.

Fresh Eyes

Posted by dkrashb on

One of the things that my husband and I usually miss out on is experiencing life through a child’s eyes.  This is the consequence of not having children and not usually being around children.  While there are many great reasons not to have children and we have no regrets about that decision, there are times when it’s nice to borrow the perspective of someone else’s child.

Having been to Rock City only for the birds of prey show (which is FABULOUS), it was cool that a visit from some friends who have a 4 year old gave us the opportunity to revisit the place.

We discovered a lot of things we’d missed the first time.  Because that little guy had more energy than I’ve had in a long, long time, making sure we pointed out every possible source of amusement became our passion.  This forced us to notice everything.

For one thing, there is a “Fat Man’s Squeeze.”  Granted, there are many places in the world with a “Fat Man’s Squeeze,”  but watching a four year old creep his way through the tight quarters made this one extra special.

We also noticed the waterfall in a whole new way.  We’d never noticed you could see it from the road.  With a four year old in the back seat, we quickly discovered a whole new view.  He was so excited that we were going that waterfall!  I had to pause and take a new look at how spectacular it really is.

Then there was the rock climbing wall.  Our four year old friend wasn’t big enough to climb, but he sure was excited by his mom’s decision to climb!  We hung around cheering for the other climbers while we waited for his mom’s turn.  I like wall climbing, but I was feeling too hot and sticky to want to attempt it myself.  As a spectator,  I found myself watching novice wall climbers and not just clapping politely for them but really feeling the need for them to make it to the top.  It was pretty inspiring to watch.  Albeit, our four year old friend lost interest about the time his mom made it to the top, but we were fascinated to stay and watch a young girl climb.

Finally, of course, we went to the birds of prey show.  I shot with a wide angle lens trying to include the audience because I wanted to capture the four year old’s reactions.  I admit I was a little disappointed that he often seemed more interested in the gravel under his feet than the birds, but every once in a while he’d look up with curiosity and even a hint of amazement.  But maybe you have to be an adult to realize how special it is to be that close to a bird of prey?

All in all, going to Rock City with a kid made the place feel like a brand new adventure.  Now I can’t wait to go again!

 

Blues on the River

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I have a confession to make.  In spite of the fact that I’m married to a guitar player and song writer who has been dealing in vintage guitars for about 20 years, I’m not that much into music.

In some ways, I suppose this works.  I enjoy music.  I love listening to music.  I just don’t really spend a lot of time seeking out music and I was never one to go out of my way to find a concert.  That’s not to say I don’t enjoy concerts.  I just never kept track of who I listened to enough to find out when and where they were playing.

We periodically venture out to hear a band.  In Columbus, when we were still energetic enough to stay up later than 11PM, we would go see friends’ bands every once in a while.  But, I have to admit those nights out have gotten fewer and further between over the years.

In a sudden surge of protest (of the possibility that we’re getting old), when a friend from Columbus gave us a heads up that a Columbus band was going to be playing at Riverbend, we rallied and made our way across the river.  It wasn’t much of a rally since the set was scheduled from 5-6:30PM.

We’d already bought “pins” for access to all 9 days of Riverfest.  We’d gone to see Foreigner, but we took Tisen with us and he wasn’t allowed in.  So, other than me running in to buy a funnel cake (who can resist a funnel cake?), the pins hadn’t been used.

Hadden Sayers, as it turned out, is a guy with a band (I thought it was the band name).  He’s originally from Houston.  He told the story of moving to Columbus on a day when it was 7 degrees and how that led to his song titled “Take Me Back to Texas.”

This is almost the opposite of our experience of moving to Chattanooga on a day when it was 110.  Neither my husband nor I wrote a song about it, however.  I guess we didn’t want to go back to Ohio that much.

Hadden and the band are awesome musicians, every one of them (verified by my husband since I’m impressed by anyone who can play anything).  But, when we arrived, there were only about 20 people standing around in front of the stage.  As they progressed through the set, more and more people arrived.  As it turned out, the next band was Government Mule.  I’ve never heard of Government Mule, but I guess they’re popular in this part of the country.

Hadden told the crowd that the Mules were in the house and, if it was OK with the audience, he was going to play a few more songs (his set wasn’t over).  The audience cheered–I wasn’t the only one impressed.  I don’t know how many people in that audience had heard of Hadden Sayers before, but I think we all went home glad that we had now.

Tiger Key and the Manatee

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The tiny keys that dot the Gulf Coast of the Everglades are countless.  But the ones that are big enough to land a canoe on and pitch a tent have names.  They are supposedly named after the shape of the key when viewed from the air, but I suspect Tiger Key was actually named in honor of the ferocity of the insects there.

Fortunately for us, when we climbed cautiously out of our tent on Boxing Day, the wind had kicked up and we were spared the brutal attack of the night before.  It was an enormous relief not to do battle again first thing in the morning.

It was time to return to the mainland.  We were somewhat concerned that we would not be able to find our way back having gotten so lost on our way out.  Fortunately, we were traveling via major channels most of the day.  While this made navigation easier, it greatly reduced the wildlife we saw.

By the time we were in the main channel, we got into a rhythm like we’d been paddling a canoe every day of our lives.  We laughed at a couple heading out.  They were struggling to go downstream because they were paddling against each other–the wife was literally paddling backwards.  We felt like canoe paddling champions as we dug into the water and pulled our canoe against the current.

Then, we got to the final stretch.  We could see our destination.   It was a short distance compared to the many miles we’d paddled over the last three days.  But the current was so strong that it pushed us sideways across the channel.

We spotted a small island along the way where we could land and catch our breath.  We made it to the closest end of the island.  After resting for a few minutes and saying a few choice words, we pushed off for what we thought would be our final launch.

We paddled for all we were worth, but the current pushed us back to the far end of the island we’d just left.  We’d have spent less energy walking the canoe along the shore.  Neither of us felt much like a champion paddler anymore.

We took a longer rest.  We ate a snack.  We got out of the canoe.  We stretched.  Then, we rallied and drove that canoe right across the current until we suddenly found ourselves in calm waters and could relax for the final 50 yards of our trip.

As we slowed down, a large, dark mass rose towards the surface of the water.  Pat yelled, “Manatee!”  We were so excited we nearly capsized the canoe after 3 days of remaining afloat.

As we glided closer to the slowly moving mass, we felt ourselves blush as we realized it was a mass of algae.  No manatees in sight.

Despite the disappointment, we really felt like we’d done something when we beached the canoe for the final time.  It was the best Christmas ever.

Lost and Found

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The first day of our canoeing adventure along the Gulf Coast in the Everglades, I discovered a key difference between canoeing in the Everglades and canoeing down a river.  There’s only one way to get lost when you canoe downstream on a small river:  failure to stop at the pick up point.

Canoeing in the Everglades was a completely different story.  We had a permit to camp on a particular Key each night of our trip.  Our first day, we were supposed to paddle about 7 miles to Rabbit Key.  Unfortunately, we started out heading down the wrong channel through the mangroves.  As we paddled around trying to identify openings between tiny mangrove islands that matched shapes on our map, I realized how little a map drawn from an aerial perspective reflects what land looks like from the water.

As the navigator, I eventually gave up on the map all together, picked a channel that pointed generally Southwest, and took us through the maze of mangroves until we hit the Gulf.  Assuming we were West of our destination, we paddled East.

Paddling along the Gulf Coast through swells of salt water in a canoe identical to the canoes we’d paddled as children was a completely surreal experience in and of itself.  Then, we spotted a dolphin about 50 yards from our canoe.  It was a joyful sort of strange.

After having paddled long and hard in the Gulf (which is not at all like paddling down a river) we decided to break for food and try to locate ourselves on the map.  We figured we might just stay where we were.  We were rapidly running out of daylight and we really wanted to have our campsite setup before dark.

We took a walk around the island we’d stopped on, trying to get a sense of what it might look like on our map.  Fortunately, we stumbled across a sign that identified the Key we had landed on.  It was Rabbit Key, the key we were supposed to spend the night on.  While this was mostly pure luck, Pat was still impressed by my sense of direction (too bad it doesn’t seem to work in the Chattanooga area).

Taking some advice someone had given us, we found a suitable spot to pitch our tent where there was plenty of wind.  Then, we pulled our canoe well up out of the water so it wouldn’t float away at high tide.  We ate quickly and went to bed, exhausted.

In the middle of the night, I woke up and went out to heed the call of nature.  When I looked up at the night sky, I’d never felt so close to the stars.  I’ve been to the top of Maunakea, which is supposed to be one of the best places in the world to see the stars, but here at sea level on a tiny key in the Everglades, it seemed like the stars were within arms reach.  It was astonishing.