December 2018 Adventure - Accepting What You're Given

Ann and I took a December holiday adventure again, except this year it was the week before Christmas.  Our destination was Death Valley (great recommendation Ann!) and, as is often the case, it was full of surprises and lessons.  One lesson we were reminded of was a familiar one - accept what you’re given.  Except this time it was kind of like a slap in the face - very unexpected.  But hey, if you have enough sense to follow the lesson, you just might have a bit of fun!

Now you pretty much know I’m a landscape photographer, though I’m not so sure I do the landscape thing as well as Ann.  Let’s say that I photograph in the landscape.  As hurried as it may seem trying to react to ever-changing morning light, or cloud patterns swiftly moving across the hillside, photographing in the landscape is pretty much a slow, measured, intentional process.  I set up a tripod, carefully frame, focus, reframe, add filters, and shift everything ever so slightly here or there, until I have my image.  Fast, it is not. Yes, I’ve occasionally hand-held images and photographed people or places without a tripod, but as liberating as those forays are, they are also reminders about how foreign such photography is for me and how much control I lose when I’m not safely on my tripod.

As we crested over the Argus Range to descend into Death Valley National Park’s Panamint Valley, we saw this beautiful deeply cut canyon (Rainbow Canyon) off in the distance and once I realized there was a turnoff/lookout (Father Crowley Point), I said, “Hey, let’s stop there!”  And as we approached, I saw that at the pullout there was a side dirt road that ran along the canyon’s southern edge.  Since Beast much prefers dirt track to pavement, that’s where we headed (wouldn’t want to disappoint Beast now would we?).

As we drove down the track, we noticed that there were several trucks parked along the track with folks sitting in chairs overlooking the canyon.  “Nice view!” I thought.  We parked towards the end of the canyon to overlook the Panamint Valley, and hiked a bit farther to get a good view and decide if we wanted to pull out the cameras.  Yup!  So we headed back to Beast.

I got into Beast to pull out our tripods and camera gear.  Next thing I hear is an increasingly loud roar of jet engines and then, “OH MY GOD!  DAN LOOK!”  By that point part of the roar turned into that screech of jet engine flying past and then away from you and as I stuck my head out of Beast I saw a second jet following the contrail of the first as it dove into the canyon and disappeared.  Hmmm . . . I guess that’s why folks were sitting on chairs placed on the edge of the canyon.  Had nothing to do with the view, well, at least not the landscape view.

Well, Ann and I went out and made our landscape images (because that’s what we do), but then I went over to chat with a couple that wasn’t far from our location.  From them we found out that this is one of the routes the pilots from China Lake Naval Weapons Center take in their training runs.  And as they put it, “Thursdays seem to be a good day to sit out here. Sometimes you have to wait an hour or so, but they eventually come along throughout the day.”  Ann and I looked at each other and immediately knew what we were going to be doing for the next couple of hours.

To give you a bit of context, this is what Rainbow Canyon looks like.

We set up our cameras (on tripods of course) with moderate telephoto lenses on them and waited.  I’d left the panning function un-tightened on my tripod so I could swing the head as the jet (hopefully one would come) came by.  Eventually one did and I got a few images.  I realized that my set-up wasn’t going to cut it - the focal length wasn’t nearly long enough, and as the plane dove into the canyon it was hard to keep it within the field of view.

Then it dawned on me that I could grab our big zoom lens, put it in optical stabilization mode and hand-hold the thing.  So I pulled out the big gun, practiced my panning motion a few times and then we waited.

It indeed took about another hour before we heard the rumble of jet engine off in the distance.  Sure enough, several seconds later it popped up over the mountain ridge, already beginning its dive into the canyon.

Once I got a focus lock on the jet, I tried to zoom in, though not nearly close enough - I could have doubled the size of the jet in the viewfinder (believe me, these images are cropped).  

Still, in a matter of seconds, it was on me and I was rotating at the waist, panning as smoothly as I could trying to keep the jet in the viewfinder as it dipped further down into the canyon.

Then it leveled off right as it was passing us (I swear that front guy was looking at me!).

And then it was past us . . .

diving further into the canyon and banking yet again

as it made its way out of the canyon into the Panamint Valley.

Think of it as an air-show fly-by, except with the jet below you!  As much as one can debate the true cost of our defense budget, one must admit that these jets are technical marvels and respect the pilots that fly them.

The guy who told us about the flights said that the pilots call this Star Wars Canyon.  You can see why!