Beisbol been berry berry good to me

There's a scene in the movie City Slickers where the 3 main characters are discussing their best day ever.  Billy Crystal's character describes his first experience attending a ballgame at Yankee Stadium with his father.  He talks about walking out of the tunnel and seeing the grass so green it nearly blinds you, the smell of cigar smoke, and how good the hot dogs tasted.  I've never been to a game at Yankee Stadium but I can relate to those feelings. 

When I was a young Bean Sprout, probably 9 or 10 years old, I can't remember exactly, my Dad loaded the family in the car and headed north to Kansas City where the Athletics were hosting the Yankees for a weekend series.  I know, I know, the A's are in Oakland now but they were originally in Kansas City.  I remember that we dropped my Mom and sisters off in downtown KC to do some shopping while Dad and I went to the game.  As nearly as I can recall it was very similar to the scene described by Billy Crystal.  What I do remember is that Mickey hit one out, Yogi hit one out, and it was the grandest sports experience of my young life.  I'd become a Yankees fan at a very early age at the insistence of Grandma Suzie who was a rabid baseball fan and I guess it rubbed off.  We were Yankee fans because of Mickey Mantle who was from Oklahoma as were my parents and Grandma.  I had no choice.  I'm still a Yankee fan, mostly because there are no other American League teams that strike my fancy and if I ever cheered for another AL team Grandma would be spinning in her grave. 

But I live in Colorado now and Colorado has the Rockies.  It's Spring Training time, 9 days till Opening Day, and I'm starting to get that old tingle.  In March, every team is a contender for the pennant, there are no losers and hope springs eternal.  Tulo and Cargo have both been signed to long term contracts, Ubaldo has 3 years left on his contract, and Todd Terrific appears to be back in form so those of us in Rockies land are very optimistic.  It's going to be a good year at Coors Field and before too long I'll be jumping on the Light Rail to Union Station then walking the 3 blocks to the ballpark.  When I walk up the stairs and onto the concourse in the left field corner the grass will be so green it will nearly blind me.  There won't be any cigar smoke but I'll definitely be assailed by the smells of cheese steak sammies, popcorn, roasted peanuts, and the hot dogs will taste better than a $25 steak.  With any luck I'll be surrounded by good friends and we'll have good conversation during the game.  I missed Spring Training this year but when I hear the crack of the bat and see Cargo park one in the second deck in right field, it won't matter. 

Is it too early to buy tickets for a Rockies/Yankees World Series?  PLAY BALL!

A Shot in the Dark

It's no secret, I'm a research junkie.  When I'm headed to a new location I spend countless hours online looking at Google Earth and Bing Maps.  I look at every image I can find of the place where I'm headed.  Usually I know what sort of conditions and subject matter I'll find before I get there and I'm rarely, if ever, surprised by what I find.  So how is it that this, one of my favorite images, came from a location I had never scouted, never researched, and never seen?  Pure Unadulterated Dumb luck!  Settle in and I'll explain.

This is an image of what I call "The Other Bear Lake."  Pretty much every photographer in Colorado knows about Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park and there are always plenty of images cruising around the web of that Bear Lake.  But this is a different Bear Lake.  Yes, it's in Colorado but about 150 miles south of RMNP.  It's off the Highway of Legends between the town of Cuchara and Cuchara Pass. 

When Heather started college at Eastern New Mexico University in Roswell, we spent a lot of time traveling between Parker and Roswell.  In August of her second year, after dropping her off for the school year, Judy and I headed home and spent a night in Taos along the way.  We headed north out of Taos and came into Colorado via the San Luis Valley then across LaVeta Pass to Walsenburg where we hit I-25.  Along the way I noticed some large stands of aspens near the summit of LaVeta Pass and after a few years of going to Crested Butte every September to photograph the changing aspens I thought it might be time for a change.  I made a mental note that this area might be a nice change and a few weeks later when it was aspen time I made the decision to head south instead of west.

The extent of my research was the trip over LaVeta Pass and a few minutes online to book a cheap motel on the outskirts of Walsenburg.  I packed my gear and left work Friday night headed south for the 2 hour drive to Walsenburg.  It was dark when I got to the hotel and dark in the morning when I left for LaVeta Pass and some of the aspen groves I'd seen weeks before.  And that's where the evil Bill took over.

I don't know what I was thinking.  I have no rational explanation for it and probably never will.  My plan was to head up LaVeta Pass and spend some time shooting in one of the huge groves of aspens but when I got to the summit of the pass the truck just kept on going as if it had a mind of it's own.  Over LaVeta Pass, turn south at the town of LaVeta, and keep going south through the small town of Cuchara.  A couple of miles south of Cuchara I saw a sign pointing up a dirt road that said Bear Lake 4 miles.  At that point the truck made a quick right turn and I was off to Bear Lake. 

Now keep in mind, it was still as dark as the inside of a coal bin at midnight.  The only things I could see were trees and bushes illuminated by my headlights but I kept on driving, undaunted, towards Bear Lake.  All the time the good Bill and the evil Bill were arguing:  "Why didn't you stop on the pass, moron?  At least we know there are aspens there."  "Shut up and drive...where's your sense of adventure?"  "Yeah, but there may not even be aspens up here...all I see are pine and spruce trees."  "Show some backbone and drive...if it doesn't work out we can go to LaVeta Pass for sunset...nobody likes a whiner!"

On we went...and about 3 miles up the road a strange thing happened:  the pines and spruces gave way to aspens.  Old growth aspens!  This might actually be okay.  When I finally arrived at the parking area for Bear Lake the eastern sky was just starting lighten as it does in the 30 or 45 minutes before dawn.  I could vaguely make out the surface of the lake down the hill from where I was parked.  Then reality set in.  I had no idea if there would be any decent compositions, no clue if there were any aspens around the lake, and the cloud bank I could barely make out near the horizon was probably going to block any sunlight and make dawn a dreary boring thing.  I berated myself for breaking tradition and flying blind into this area and feeling pretty down I grabbed my tripod and backpack and headed for the lake shore.  I was here, there was no time to make it back to LaVeta Pass before sunrise, so I might as well take my lemons and make some lemonade.  What the heck...if the light is grey and flat I can shoot some intimate landscapes in the forest.

The rest is history.  I got my camera and lens on the tripod, walked a few yards up and down the shoreline to find a suitable composition, and started thinking about finding some colorful leaves to photograph when this fiasco was over.  And then the magic happened.....the cloud bank started to break up into mini clouds and the sun started tinging the edges of the clouds with pink.  The slight breeze that had been rippling the surface of the lake stopped.  Everything was dead calm and the sky exploded with color.  Amazing!  And the image at the top of this blog is the result.  A case of pure dumb luck putting me in the right place at the right time. 

I spent the next 3 or 4 hours shooting and came away with one of the most successful aspen shoots I've had in years.   Was I lucky? You bet your behind I was...but I'll take luck like this any day.  

Every Picture is a Jelly Donut

Pardon my poetic license with the title of an old Rod Stewart song (Every Picture Tells a Story, Don't It?) but we all change lyrics from time to time in order to make them fit the situation. In this case, though, I'm pretty sure the picture doesn't tell it all.

What you need to know is that the truck in the picture was traveling from right to left when the driver lost control. The vehicle left the roadway, crashed through the guardrail , hit the culvert, flipped end over end, and came to rest facing in the opposite direction. The good news is that the 22 year old driver and his 18 year old passenger walked away with minor bruises and abrasions. (seat belts really do work!)

First thought is "Holy crap! What a terrible wreck!" followed by relief that the occupants of the vehicle were okay. But as Paul Harvey says: "And now...the rest of the story!"

Special thanks to my friend Amie Isban for e-mailing this to me and as she said: 

If God isn't done with you, He isn't done with you.