Putting in the Work
One of the unfortunate things about becoming a better photographer is that, after a while, your standards get higher. Having a well-exposed image of something beautiful just isn’t enough. You go on a photo trip and might have dozens of “ok” images that are simply not satisfying. Fewer and fewer images make the cull as keepers and you realize that you have to push yourself to see things differently, to be in places at the right time and to make sure you have everything necessary to make a great image. It’s rewarding too, to see how your images are getting better and better, and occasionally you say to yourself, “Wow, I did that?” But increasingly, a long day (or series of days) of shooting leaves you with a bunch of images that . . . are not quite good enough.
There are those days where, quite by happenstance you are in a great place at the right time - all by accident - and there’s an incredible image waiting for you to pick up the camera and push the damn button. Everyone has one great photo in them. But it’s the second, and third, and . . . that we strive for. And as much as the journey is as valuable as the end-point, we do want that image. And “Ok” isn’t good enough. I’d rather have one great image than 50 pretty good ones. And Ann is starting to get that way too.
So creating images that excite us is becoming harder and harder. We plan shoots to try to be in the right place at the right time to make something special. While it doesn’t always end up with an excellent photograph, sometimes the journey is what matters and “not quite” is till pretty darned amazing. That’s where we were last weekend.
After our road trip, Ann and I got to talking about how we were at Three Fingered Jack at the worst time possible - it was mid-day and the sun was directly in front of us. We were thinking that a sunrise shot would be great, but that meant camping out in the wilderness area. Still, if that’s what it took, we could do it. So we started planning.
First we realized that we hadn’t hiked all the way to the upper meadows - there was one more climb to go, but that the view from up there must be pretty awesome. We found out that there were camp sites hidden away at the upper meadow. And then I realized that given the time of year, we might be able to do some awesome night photographs with Three Fingered Jack and the Milky Way if we returned soon. So we started planning for a trip the next weekend or, failing that two weeks afterwards (to let the full moon pass). And we started packing. As the weekend approached rain was in the forecast (thunderstorms to be precise), so we pushed things back a day. It looked better the next day so we headed up to take our changes.
We had to totally change our strategy for gear though. I ditched my camera backpack for my McHale backpacking pack that can carry more than most SUVs. I figure, it did me well for a week on the Rogue River, it would suffice to haul stuff for two for an overnight trip. Little did I realize that, by the time we loaded up, I’d be hauling 65 pounds of gear up a mountain side. And of course, we hit a shower so on went the rain covers, for the shower to promptly pass and me looking like a giant green blob.
Not only was the climb steady and strenuous, the mosquitos decided that they needed nourishment for most of the way up. I really can’t complain because, quite by accident I assure you, I think I married the only person in the world that is more tempting for mosquitos than I am. Poor Ann.
Exhausted and sweaty we made it to the upper meadows by nightfall and fairly easily found a campsite a couple of hundred yards away from the main trail. So we set up camp, got changed and waited for night to fall.
We photographed that night, and early the next morning. Even though I set, but forgot to turn on, my alarm, we woke up a little over three hours after we went to bed. We thought it was too late, but it wasn’t and the sunrise was something special, but incredibly difficult to photograph. We photographed until about 9 when the light started losing it’s wonderful character, then packed up camp and headed back down.
On the way down we passed several people on their way up. Two guys were photographers with cameras and tripods in tow. I felt like telling them they were two hours too late, but I didn’t have the heart to. As we made our way down, we looked back at Three Fingered Jack. Yes, it was better in the morning than in the afternoon, but by mid-morning it was just an average photograph. We didn’t even stop off at the lower meadows to re-shoot one of the afternoon images from the week before. I wasn’t after ok.
Ann and I are realizing that we have to work harder and harder to get to these special places at special times. We also realize it’s worth it, because even if we don’t quite make what we think is an incredible image, being there at those times is incredible. Like watching for 4 hours as the Milky Way makes its way across Three Fingered Jack.
