You Can't Always Get What You Want . . . (US Version)

Ok, I’ve used the title before (way back in 2010 if you’ve forgotten already), but it was applicable for last weekend, my first one back from Liberia.  As you would expect, Ann and I quickly made plans to go shooting.  They didn’t quite turn out the way we expected.On Friday, the day after I arrived, we went out to Sweet Creek Falls, expecting to get some nice photos of the changing trees and the creek.  I came back with . . . nothing.  The water was much higher than we’d expected (Oregon had lots of rain the past few weeks - Ann says I brought the sunshine), and the leaves weren’t nearly as nice as they could have been.  Leaves were changing color, but it isn’t a good color year so . . . no good shots.  Ann took a couple, but we pretty much just enjoyed the hike.  On the way back into town we stopped at the Delta Ponds in Eugene to scope them out, and Ann got a couple of nice images with her new telephoto zoom lens (it’s still not nearly long enough for real wildlife photography), especially one shot of some wood ducks. We’ll have to return to the ponds during better light so . . . still, not really great photographing.

Saturday was a work day.  I figured I should clean the gutters, which I should have done this summer, especially since the sun was out.

So Sunday we took off again.  I’d planned a hike up to the top of Bohemia Mountain, which the guide book described as having a great view and not being too difficult of a hike.  You park in the saddle on a ridge and can hike up Bohemia Mountain, drive up an adjacent hill to a ranger look-out station, or scramble down to a ghost mining town.  I’d considered trying to do it in summer, but this is the season for it - cool enough to not sweat too much, but not too cold. 

Once we got there we found the gate to the ranger tower locked - the government is shut down.  So there went that view.  And the hillside down to the ghost town was steep, no trail and wooded - so you can’t see where you’re going.  So that was out too.  So we headed up to the top of Bohemia Mountain.  We could see where we were headed, which looked like a nice wide, flat mountain top just under a mile away and about 600 feet higher than the saddle. No problem, just follow the trail along the ridge line.  Ann and I started off.

The hike started just fine following the ridge through the woods.  At one point, the trail was on the ridge top with a fairly steep wooded drop off on each side.  I checked with Ann and she wasn’t having any problems, so we kept up a steady moderate pace. After a while the trail switchbacked up the side of the mountain, with a few openings to the north that were really nice. Again, Ann seemed fine. We’d walk a while, stop to drink some water, and kept tromping up the hillside.  At one point we got to an outcropping and I scrambled up a bit to get a view. We were about half way there, and the rock outcropping was small enough that I knew Ann didn’t want to get out there, so we continued.  After about 30 feet, the trail got near the edge as it curved to follow one side of the quickly rising ride.   I hear,  “Wow, that looks really close to the trail.  Wow, that’s a pretty steep drop-off.”  Uh, oh.  “Just walk on past it, we’re back to one side of the ridge right here.” Ann paused, then started walking.  As she left the wooded section I saw it in her body, the same thing I saw at Eagle Creek over 10 years ago.

In case you didn’t know, Ann doesn’t like heights.  She usually overcomes her fears, but they are real.  No way she would go bungee jumping with me and the guys, and when she went to Seattle, it was enough for her to be inside the Space Needle, don’t ask her to go to the outside viewing deck.  Well, it hit her, and her legs started buckling.  So she sat down.  Guess we weren’t going to make it to the top of Bohemia Mountain.  Ann told me to go on, she could wait an hour, but I couldn’t do that. So I scrambled up to the top of the rocks we were passing by for a shot, just to document the view.  

Ann kept saying that I should have gone on, but my position was, there were lots of places to go and we’d just go to Brice Creek and shoot there (the lower falls this time, not the upper end of the trail!).  So I helped Ann get off the scary part of the mountain and we made it back to the car just fine.

Well, we headed towards Brice Creek going on a different logging road than the one we came up on and, you guessed it, made a wrong turn.  The GPS wasn’t very helpful, but knowing we were going downhill and that logging roads always loop around, I wasn’t too worried.  At one point the GPS said we were on Champion Creek Road and sure enough, we started following a creek.  Suddenly we saw a really nice set of rapids.  I stopped, backed up and parked.  We got out and started shooting.  I started out with a shot from the road using Ann’s camera.  Then we scrambled down an embankment, I took a spill, helped Ann down, and then started photographing.  It was photography heaven - a nice secluded spot with a variety of things to shoot.  Ann with many more opportunities because of her ability to change lenses, but I got my share of shots.

It was a beautiful section of the creek, with nice rapids . . .

ending in a really lovely pool of water.

If it were warmer, I’d have considered taking a dip. 

It was fun watching Ann at work.  She’d call me over to discuss technical issues or to ask my opinion about framing.  Time and again I was impressed with what she had framed and thought about before asking me to take a look.  In all, we spent a good couple of hours there, to the point where the creek was starting to fall into shade.

On the way back up the creek to crawl out, I took a look up and . . . 

They may not be the redwoods, but we do have some tall trees here in Oregon.

A bit farther down the road we found a gem of some falls, though impossible to shoot from the road.  A rope to rappel about 15 feet down the hill, a saw to cut down one, maybe two small trees, and a shot could be made.  But not that day.  Sometimes you just enjoy something for what it is and know it wasn’t meant to be photographed.  We were pleased with our discoveries, and we hadn’t even made it to our second destination yet.

As we hit the main road, we knew exactly where we were - the upper Brice Creek trailhead!  I suggested we take the short hike to the waterfall we skipped over the summer and Ann said sure.  So we changed our plans yet again!  Nearly a mile later (and not 600 feet higher in elevation!), we came to the falls at Trestle Creek.  Again, definitely worth it.  We immediately started photographing.  Now, if you know anything about photography, you know that shooting in such a high contrast situation is nearly impossible.  But with the wonders of digital we were able to make some usable images.

At the base of the falls was a log jam, and again a few yards further down creek another one.  It’s an indicator of how high and rough the creek can get in the Spring time.  

We must have spent nearly an hour here photographing, trying all sorts of angles and compositions within a very confined space.  I think one of my next photography purchases is going to be a pair of hip waders so I can walk around areas like this.  

In trying to find a way to deal with the bright contrast, Ann and I kept working with different reflections to hint at what was there.  For such a simple place, there was a lot to work with.

I also decided to climb up on the down-creek logjam to show everyone what creeks in Oregon look like.

In some ways, Liberia has nothing over Oregon on forest vegetation.  

So Ann and I tromped back to the car and headed home happy.  No, we didn’t make it to either one of our photo destinations that day, but it didn’t matter.  I’ve occasionally said that the best photo trips are the ones where you never make it to where you thought you were going to photograph because you found so many places to photograph that you ran out of film before you got there.  Well, we don’t shoot film anymore, so I guess I have to change that saying.  Still, when you shoot so much you’re exhausted before you get to your destination, it’s pretty much the same thing.

As for that first shot I took on Sunday?  Well sometimes your first shot of the day is your best shot and you know it when you take it.