A Sunday Drive (On Saturday)

My daily commute to work is 48 miles each way.  Since I despise freeway traffic I always take the "old" highway 83 from Parker to Colorado Springs.  It's a pleasant drive with enough curves and hills to keep your interest and along the way I see some great sights.  With that in mind I headed out Saturday morning to photograph some things I see everyday on my drive.  There were some pseudo wildflowers planted in the medians of some of the streets in Parker which would be nice at sunrise.  And just a mile or so past Castlewood Canyon State Park one of the ranchers has some Longhorn steers that look awesome with a bit of backlight.  Then there's the bison ranch a few more miles down the road and my ultimate destination, Paint Mines Interpretive Space near Calhan, east of Colorado Springs. 

Well, the best laid plans.....when I got out of bed Saturday morning before sunrise the wind was blowing pretty hard so photographing flowers was out.  Then I broke one of my photographic rules:  "When traveling with the possibility of seeing wildlife alongside the road, keep the telephoto lens on the camera."  I rolled up to see the Longhorns near the road but by the time I popped the hatch, got the camera out of the bag and attached the tele zoom, they had looked me over and decided to move off into the distance, presenting me with a grand view of their butts!  Further down the road, the bison were about 1/2 mile off the road in the middle of the pasture so no shot there.  Finally arriving at Paint mines, the wind was blowing even harder and it was after the 30 minute "magic" light so finding compositions with good lighting was pretty much impossible.  Again, no shots. 

One good thing came of my travels, though.  I headed north out of Calhan to Kiowa and on the road there decided to head up Comanche Creek road to see if Prairie Wind Wildlife Refuge is still operational.  I'd photographed all sorts of critters there back in the 90's but hadn't been there in nearly 15 years so I was pretty amazed that I remembered the route.  Sure enough, the tigers were pacing their cages and there was a new lion enclosure.  I didn't stop because they don't much like to have folks drop in unannounced, but I did take a trip down memory lane. 

I stated a few months ago that I was going to post some essays from my original website and this is the perfect chance to bring one of them out of mothballs.  Sit back, relax, and enjoy.

Every Picture Tells A Story, Don't it…

And mine are no exception. Take the Cougar series for example. I don't often have nightmares or dreams that wake me up in the night but when I do, they usually involve a cougar. We all have our phobias and that's mine. So when I was given the chance to photograph one of the cougars at the Prairie Wind Wildlife Refuge I gave it considerable thought before deciding to go for it.
The nights leading up to the weekend photo session were restless for the most part and as the time drew nearer I became more and more anxious. Was this thing going to eat me? Chew me beyond recognition? I'd seen deer and elk that were cougar kills and as an illustration of a cat's power and ability I've even seen a housecat kill a rabbit in one swift motion. The power per pound of these animals is awesome. It took all my will power and resolve to avoid picking up the phone and calling to cancel. But I was strong!

Saturday morning dawned clear and beautiful on the plains, the first rays of the sun lighting up the Front Range in my rear view mirror on the drive. That served to calm me a bit, but I was still more nervous than I'd been in a while. The orientation speech Michael gave did little to bolster my confidence. "Whatever you do don't run or show any signs of fear. These may be pets but they're still wild animals." That's code for "they will kill and eat you if you're not careful."

Okay, done with the speeches, tripods and lenses set up, film loaded, and my shooting site selected. The cat is released by one of Michael's assistants and comes over the hill about 100 yards away headed for Michael and the tidbits of meat he offers as incentive to behave. Right away I notice that the beast seems to be fixated on me. His eyes meet mine over the distance and I immediately look away. ("….don't make eye contact, they think it's a challenge.") The cat, Cheyenne, lopes up to me then walks in a slow circle around me giving me the once over. "Relax" Michael says, "he just likes your deodorant." (which by now has failed miserably)

Finally after 10 seconds which seemed like 10 minutes, the cat comes closer and drags his tongue up the side of my head then plops down to rest about 5 feet from my camera. I could have tugged his tail if I'd been so inclined. Check out the Critters portfolio and you'll see the results.

Stoopid Human Trick

Will Rogers once said "Everything is funny...when it happens to someone else!"  I often profess that while I'm not really a stupid person I frequently portray one in real life.  To illustrate this, just about the time I start to think I'm pretty darn sharp, something happens to keep me humble.  Listen up...

I can safely say that almost every photographer I know is a gearhead, myself included.  As my friend Bret says, we "worship at the altar of Gear."  One of my friends who shall remain nameless takes it to the extreme though.  My wife often tries to get me to quit visiting or shooting with him because there's always some new toy he has to show me that I want to buy.  In the past we've loaned each other lenses and stuff and it seems like every time we're swapping lenses he says "take this...how bout this...why not take this...."  Sometimes I have to tell him to just QUIT!  I got enough of your gear to add 10 pounds to my backpack! 

A few days before my recent trip to Moab, Utah, I was at his house to retrieve my 70-200 f4 lens and he started running through the list.  Seems he was between trips and pretty much everything in his bag was available.  After running through his "catalogue" of lenses, one of the things that I found desirable was a plain jane 50mm lens, the same kind of lens you used to get in the old days when you bought a camera with a "normal" lens.  In this day and age of high quality zoom lenses I haven't owned, much less used a 50mm lens for probably 2 decades but I wanted to do some night sky photography in the desert and the 50mm would be ideal.  Light enough and fast enough for my purposes so I tossed it in my bag. 

Well, the night sky photography didn't come to pass.  It was really windy in the desert all the time I was there which stirred up enough dust to make the air seem hazy.  It was great for sunrise shooting and amazing for sunset shots.  Night sky....not so much.  Besides, even if there were no dust and haze in the air the steady wind would have made a 30 second exposure impossible even with a solid tripod.  I did manage capture a few images with the 50mm one afternoon though and it was kinda fun.  I had to actually act like a photographer and move closer or further from the subject to frame the image properly.  Also, the lens is light, easy to use, and scary sharp!  Check the image with this blog for proof of that.  Ultimately, I kind of like this little lens and here is where the stupid human trick comes in. 

Arriving at the decision to acquire a 50mm of my very own (I still want to do some night sky shooting) I started haunting Craigslist when I got home from Moab.  Sadly, there were no 50mm Canon AF lenses to be had.  Lots of zooms but no 50's.  On to Ebay...tons of 50mm Canon lenses.  I narrowed my search by selecting Canon, Autofocus, Digital, and Prime as lens categories.  Scrolling through the listings I came across a 50mm f1.8 that was ending soon and had a pretty low bid on it so I decided to place my own bid, making it low enough so if someone outbid me it wouldn't be a problem.  To my surprise, the next morning I had an e-mail telling me I won the thing.  I promptly went to Ebay and arranged payment via PayPal and waited for my new toy to arrive. 

It came today and like a kid on Christmas, I had to open it before even taking my jacket off when I walked in the door and that's when my heart sank.  The lens I received is an older Canon FD (manual focus) mount lens.  There isn't enough hot glue and duct tape on the planet to make this thing fit on my autofocus EOS mount cameras!  You can imagine my outrage...someone had listed this lens as AF and sold it to me under false pretenses!  I fired up the computer and brought up the lens listing and sure enough, there in the information section of the listing it said....FD mount!  Duh me....it was right there and I missed it.  I operated on the assumption that since I narrowed my search criteria it had to be an AF lens so I didn't double check the fine print.  I now have a 50mm Canon lens but there is no way it will work on my camera.  It might as well be a paperweight.  Unbelievable...

I often tell my kids something that my Daddy told me a long time ago when I was a little bitty baby boy...he said "Son, if something appears to be too good to be true, it probably is.  I've been shopping 50mm lenses for a while and the going price for an AF 50mm f1.8 seems to be around $100 so what ever made me think I was going to get one in pristine condition for $40?  If it seems too good to be true........ Anyone out there got a manual focus Canon camera and need a 50mm lens? 

Oh Those Goofy Photographers

It's no secret, as much as I despise crowds I also derive great enjoyment from observing the Human Condition.  And whenever you get a group of people together it's almost a certainty that there will be some goofy things going on.  The kind of goofy things that make you go "Hmmmmmmm..."  Sadly, photographers are no exception.

Don't get me wrong, the group of Rocky Mountain Nature Photographers I spent Saturday with is a great group of folks.  I enjoyed myself more than I have on a photo trip in a long time and I didn't observe anything strange though I'm sure there are as many eccentrics  in that group as the general population with me leading the way.  For the time I was around them, all parties were well behaved and rational.

I can't say the same about every photographer I encountered this weekend though, especially some of the ones I saw at Delicate Arch.  There were some really "interesting" folks both on the trail and at the Arch and I spent time alternating between chuckling and just shaking my head. 

As I stated in a previous blog I knew the opportunity to make world class images of Delicate Arch wasn't going to happen on Sunday afternoon.  It was overcast and really windy so the light would be flat and there would be little or no chance to steady a camera in the gale force winds.  With this in mind I left the backpack and big tripod in the car and started up the trail with my G10 in it's belt pouch and carrying my little Induro tripod.  The light was going to be flat and ugly (witness the image above) so there was no logical reason to drag 25 pounds of gear up 1 1/2 miles of slickrock.  Besides, the G10 is a great little camera and capable of producing some fantastic images so I was covered in the event of a miracle. 

Going up the trail I saw all the expected things.  Tourists with movie cameras running ahead of their group then stopping to film them coming up the trail.  There were the usual array of people both young and old photographing the scenery with their smart phones.  And one older gentleman who had an array of gear like I've never seen.  He had a large photo backpack on his back with a camelback water bladder strapped to one side of it.  On the other side he had a HUGE tripod and massive ballhead which together probably weighed close to 12 or 15 pounds.  In front he had a large padded lens case capable of holding a camera with a large telephoto lens and since I saw a trunk case for a 300mm lens in the back of his truck I have to assume he was toting that lens in the big case.  Though I don't know what he had in his backpack, with the water, the big lens, mongo tripod, and everything else I bet he had 35 or 40 pounds of gear strapped on his torso.  To carry that much gear up a moderately difficult trail on a day when it's going to be impossible to make a pro quality image is something that baffles me.  God bless you, brother.  I'm glad it was you toting the stuff and not me. 

The strangest thing about him, though, is that he carried that bigass tripod all the way up the hill and never opened it up.  I was there for an hour or more and I never once saw him shoot something that wasn't handheld, a lot of it with a big heavy lens, probably an 80-200 f2.8.  He may have been shooting wide open to increase his shutter speeds but in the low light conditions with the wind blowing at gale force, there is no possible way his images could have been sharp.  Things that make you go "Hmmmmmmmm..."

During my time at Delicate Arch I saw the usual suspects hiking down to have their picture taken standing under the arch and there was even one guy laying on his back with his camera pointing up at the arch.  The first and only other time I was at Delicate Arch, any time someone walked near the arch they were met with a chorus of "Get out of there...you're spoiling my shot" from the photographers up on the rim.  This time, though, we all just looked at each other and grinned.  What the heck...the folks down there under the Arch paid their $10 bucks just like I did and most of them are tourists from another country.  They most likely will never see this site again so let em get their pictures to show the friends when they get back wherever home is.

But by far the oddest duck of the day was a young man with a shiny new Lowe Pro backpack chock full of camera gear.  There I was, holding onto my tripod mounted G10 to avoid having it blown off the hill (have I mentioned the wind was blowing pretty hard?) when suddenly I hear someone fire off 9 frames with the drive on their camera on full auto Shake and Bake mode.  9 frames in about 2 seconds.  Having done that before I assumed that he had merely forgotten to take his camera off motor drive after shooting some wildlife but NO!  He moved a few steps to the right and did the same thing.  Again, handheld camera and big lens. At this point I draw the conclusion that he's bracketing exposures which is something that I don't usually do but I know a lot of photographers that bracket everything.  But wait...it gets better!  A few minutes later the same young man hops up on a ledge fully exposed to the wind (I hate being redundant but I swear, it was probably blowing 40 mph gusting to 50 or 60mph) and triggers his motor drive again.  This time, though, he turns at the waist, panning about 140 degrees from left to right.  Shooting frames for a panorama? 

Keep in mind, some of the photographers I hang out with are gearheads of the highest order.  My friend Rich paid big bucks for a special head called Nodal Ninja that allows you to precisely calibrate multiple exposures for stitching together as a panorama.  One of the photographers I was with on Saturday had a special device built to allow her to shoot time lapse panoramic images.  Now here this goof is trying to be his own panoramic head when you can see him swaying in the wind.  There is absolutely no way he could have possibly gotten sharp images that way.  Combine the wind with the movement of the camera while he was twisting his body and it's a physical impossibility.  I was tempted to ask him what he was doing but I couldn't figure out a way to ask that wouldn't sound like I was patronizing him or being condescending.  Sure made me go "Hmmmm..." though. 

What's your goofiest photography trick?  You show me yours and I'll show you mine!  Leave a comment and lets have some fun.

A New Beginning (and a new bucket)

It was a dark and stormy.....Nah, that one's been taken.
It was the best of times, it was the worst....Nah, that one's taken too.  Wait...I've got it!  Try this one...

It was windy and overcast when I started up the trail to Delicate Arch.  Yeah!  That's it!  A great new beginning.  And a very incongruous statement for a couple of different reasons.  First, the clouds were building in the west and I knew there was not going to be epic light on the arch.  Normally I would have bagged it and headed back to the hot tub at the hotel. 

Second, I have been to Delicate Arch before.  I knew it was 1 1/2 miles uphill to get there and it was going to be a tough hike for me.   I knew because I'd had tremendous trouble with the Klondike Bluffs trail the day before.  The first pitch of that trail was more difficult than the Delicate Arch trail.  It was very steep and involved a lot of steps up, not just going uphill over slickrock.  By the time I got to the first ridge I was gasping for breath, my knees and thighs were aching, and I was probably 1/4 mile behind Bret and Scott in the first 10 minutes.  I saw the trail start downhill and knew I could probably make it down there but if I did someone would end up carrying my happy butt out of there cause I'd never make it back up.  Too many cheeseburgers, circus animal frosted cookies, and nachos finally caught up with me. 

I stayed on the ridge and found some pretty decent images so all was not lost.  After making my way down the hill in the semi darkness after sunset I was at the trailhead talking to a few others in the group of RMNP folks that had come to Moab for the weekend.  That's when my new friend/photographer buddy Tim uttered the most prophetic statement I've heard in a long time.  We were talking about another get together in Moab next spring and discussing the trouble we'd had keeping up with the others going up the hill and he said "I look at this as a beginning...when we get back here next year I'm going to be in shape to keep up and this is the beginning of that process."  Thank you, Tim, for shining the light into my brain.

I came to Moab this weekend ostensibly to hang out with friends and create some great new images and both of those things happened.  But there was a disturbance in the force...something else occupying my thoughts.  You see, 10 days ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer.  Don't be alarmed...my Urologist has assured me that this cancer won't kill me.  I may die with prostate cancer but I won't die OF prostate cancer.  Nevertheless, the "C" word is a sobering thing and I came here to spend some time alone after all the other photographers headed home Sunday morning.  I spent the day deep in thought, trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day and, more importantly, the rest of my life.

While heading back to Moab from Onion Creek I started thinking about what Tim had said and as if someone had turned on a light bulb in my brain I had The Epiphany!  Driving down the Colorado River towards Moab I came across some kayakers taking turns surfing a wave in the river and they were having such a grand time I figured that Kayaking should be added to my new bucket list.  It was lunch time so I stopped to watch them while I ate and that's when it hit me...this disease isn't an end to anything...it's a beginning to the rest of my life.  Then the revised bucket list and watershed events in my life started to bombard my senses.  Here's what I came up with.
First, the critical events of this year: 


1.  In November I turn 60.  That's 6/10's of a century!  Damn, no wonder I'm starting to fall apart.  My cardio vascular capacity is pathetic.  My muscle tone is deplorable.  In short, I'm a physical mess.

2.  My eldest child is getting married in September.  It's going to be a glorious event and I'm really looking forward to it. 

3.  I've made it to the 10th year of employment with my current employer and got that extra week of vacation!  Whooooo hoooooo

4.  Yes, I do have prostate cancer and something needs to be done.  I have some decisions to make

So with those things in mind, I'm going to have to come up with a new bucket list.  I'll let you know when it's ready for release but rest assured, #1 and #2 will be to get this cancer cured and get in better shape.  And that's what made me decide to make the trip to Delicate Arch despite knowing how much difficulty I was going to have.  I made it to the top and it was a lung busting bitch.  But I had to do this you see. This is the New Beginning.

Photographers: They say (and do) the funniest things

This image doesn't have a lot to do with the following blog entry but it's one of my favorites and I haven't yet taken an African safari so my stock of elephant photos is sadly lacking.  But I have seen and read some things today that bother me a little bit and I always like to share so here goes.

There's a lot of hoopla going around the web right now about GoDaddy CEO Bob Parsons posting a video of him shooting an elephant.  Of course the folks at PETA have chimed in and some other animal rights groups are suitably outraged and I suppose that's all well and good.  Every adult is entitled to their own opinion and if it is different than mine it doesn't really matter.  I don't expect to agree with everyone nor do I get distraught when everyone doesn't agree with me.

For the record, I couldn't care less about Mr. Parsons shooting an elephant.  If he has the money and it's not illegal, more power to him.  Last I heard, elephants weren't on any one's endangered species list.  Furthermore, there is evidence that the elephant in question was doing a great deal of damage to a small village's crops but I'm not here to debate that.  You can find all the information and more by doing a google search and form your own opinion.  I promise I won't ridicule you or respect you less regardless of what that opinion is.

What I saw today that raised my eyebrow was the reaction from the photographic community of which I consider myself a member.  The outrage and vitriol was far beyond what I'd expected to see.  One of the photographic bulletin boards I watch from time to time had a thread that, unless I miss my guess, will soon have photographers calling for Mr. Parsons to be drawn and quartered.  I'm not surprised that there was some reaction, photographers are some pretty sensitive folks for the most part.  I was, however, a bit stunned at first by the vehemence of the opinions.  Then I thought about some of the photographic sensitivity I've experienced in the past and I got a big bite of the reality sandwich.  There are 2 incidents that I've been involved with in the past that should have tempered my surprise...listen and learn.

I mentioned earlier that I watch some photographic bulletin boards online.  One of the boards, Nature Photographers Network, was a source for my first experience with the depth of feeling that some photographers have for the environment.  One of the threads was bemoaning the loss of Glen Canyon which occurred in the 1960's when the Glen Canyon dam was built on the Colorado  River creating Lake Powell.  I was just back from a houseboat trip to Lake Powell which might not have been my favorite vacation ever but is certainly top 3, and being new to the game of online bulletin boards I chimed in with my thoughts that Lake Powell was truly the Jewel of the Desert and a wonderful resource.  I added that though I would love to have seen Glen Canyon before the dam, I really felt the resulting lake is a beautiful and wondrous place. I was immediately assailed by one of the photographers on the board who dismissed my knowledge, credibility, and even my humanity for espousing such an opinion.  By stating that I enjoyed the lake I had established my credentials as a cretin of the first order.  I conducted a private e-mail exchange with the other photographer and after we both expressed our views in a much more civil manner we agreed that we will always disagree on this matter and moved on.  To this day his images and soulful essays are an inspiration to me and someday I hope I'll have the chance to buy him a cold adult beverage and discuss photography.

The second time was much more amusing because I didn't start the fireworks but was around to witness the effects of some simple differences in philosophies.  A few years ago I was at a photo seminar put on by Outdoor Photographer magazine here in Denver.  The format was to bring in 2 prominent photographers to give presentations of their work over the course of a weekend.  The first day of the seminar was conducted by David Stoecklein.  David is a wonderful photographer and if you have ever eaten at a Black Angus Steak House you've seen his work.  He is famous primarily for his images of horses and cowboys but he's also a very successful commercial photographer and part of his presentation was centered around advertising photography and some of the tricks of the trade of a working commercial shooter.

Keep in mind, there were between 100 and 150 people attending this seminar, all lured there in the hopes of learning the magic behind David's horse images and make no mistake, there was plenty of that to go around.  But he also spent some time before the lunch break talking about how he had created some of the advertising images in his portfolio.  When he came to an image he'd shot for Jeep things began to get interesting.  It was an image of a Jeep Grand Cherokee sitting on top of a seemingly impossible to climb mountaintop.  In his narrative describing the image he disclosed that (paraphrasing) "...we had to go up and cut down about 6 trees so the helicopter could set the Jeep down on top of  the hill..."  With that disclosure there was an almost audible gasp from the audience.  Six trees destroyed?  A helicopter to put the Jeep in place?  To a group of self described Nature Photographers this was akin to blasphemy.  And the amusing part?  After the lunch break, a meeting room that had been nearly filled to capacity before David's unfortunate utterance was half empty for the afternoon session. 

Yep, photographers are a sensitive bunch.  I shouldn't have been surprised.

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.