Rude Interruptions
Our fall adventure started out well - the Painted Hills were a great start, we nailed our campsites in Idaho and in the Gallatin National Forest, and our call to start immediately in Yellowstone National Park instead of trying to camp off the Beartooth Highway was a good one (although we did visit the area yesterday and it would have been fine). The worst that could be said of the trip so far was that, until today we had the photographer’s nightmare - sunny with blue skies. And today, well the weather came and . . . I was rudely interrupted during our early morning photo shoot.
Perhaps it was just coincidence that the night before I was reading an article by David Ward in OnLandscape magazine entitled “Tripod Wars” and how, at some popular photo locations, photographers line up, and get in each others way just to get the photograph. The article is about a lot more than that, but that part seemed particularly relevant. Now, given that we aren’t “wildlife photographers” and don’t go chasing the wolves (or pronghorn sheep [which we’ve seen lots of up close anyway], bears or any other animals) we tend to not be in the places other photographers are. Actually, we have more “conflicts” with fisherpersons than photographers in the places we like to photograph.
But that didn’t matter much at all this morning, nobody was around where we were shooting. Ann and I had decided on a ridge overlooking Slough Creek for our pre-dawn/dawn photo session. It was a bit cloudy, so we didn’t get the highly moon-illuminated pre-dawn landscape we would have had the day before, but the near-full moon was enough to illuminate things through the clouds. And as the sun rose it gave us a light show - both in the direction of the sun with the red clouds, and the landscape we came to photograph, with the reflected red light. It was an intense morning trying to take advantage of what Mother Nature was giving us. As the light evened out in color, we eventually called it a shoot and headed back to Beast - to warm up and down some coffee.
As we were sitting there deciding where to go to next, I looked out way off into the distance and told Ann, “Hey, I think I see an image. I’m going to have to take the 100-400mm lens for it, it’s a tight crop way off in the distance. Ann said sure, then I told her I had to wait for the sun to make its way down the mountain side. As it hit the top of the hill I was looking at, I grabbed my gear and tromped off about 100 yards through the brush (bear spray in pocket) to a ridge line to get a better angle for my image.
As the sun made its way down the hill I was ready and started my photographs - a very tight crop of two trees and a grove of trees. The cropping didn’t quite work out the way I had thought it would, so I started experimenting with different framing than I’d originally imagined, just as Ann arrived. A few minutes later, the lights went out. The sun went behind some clouds and it looked like it would stay there. So I started looking around, and saw some things to try. Ann said she was heading back to Beast and I said just one more image (which as usual meant a couple more). I finished the image I was making and as I turned to put my gear away, I saw another image with the trees and grove I originally looked at, but this time a composition that involved the clouds. So I started framing the image. Took one shot then . . .
“Dan, bison!”
Something sounded a bit odd about the way Ann said that. It wasn’t the type of “Wow, look at that, Bison!” tone of voice, it was the “Watch out - BISON!” voice. So I turned around.
About 50 yards away was a bison slowly making its way up a draw to the area where I was standing. Eventually though, he stopped. Half-way between Ann and me. Then he turned to look at me. And stared. I stood there watching, waiting for any signs of aggression. I remembered the bison that kicked us out of the pond we were photographing during our first trip to Yellowstone. The herd was coming down the hill to the pond and he was by far the Big Guy. He took two steps into the pond, looked over at us, then backed out of the pond, took two steps towards us and stopped, facing us head-on. Now, he was about 100+ yards away, but the message was clear - Get Lost! Today’s guy was . . . more wary than anything else. Probably as worried about me as I was about him. So he just stood there.
Eventually, I got a bit tired of him, so I turned around, made the second image of my shot, looking backwards as I did. Then a third image of my shot (because I usually make 3 for safe keeping). Again - constantly turning around checking him out over my shoulder. There he stood. So I checked to make sure the image was sharp and didn’t have any major flaws. Yup, it was good. I turned around and there he was, just standing there.
So I thought, “Hell, I’ve got a 400mm lens with me!” So I swung the camera around on the tripod and took a few shots of him!
Fortunately, the framing was such that I could get Beast (and Ann) in the background. After a few images, I knew not to press my luck, or to get any closer to it. I knew I had as good an image as I could expect to get (and I remembered to focus on the eye!), so it was time to go.
Strange thing was that the instant I bent down to put my camera in my camera bag, he turned and continued walking, munching on whatever it is bison eat in these shrub areas. I packed my things and swung my backpack on, grabbed and collapsed my tripod while still crouching, and slowly walked down and around the ridge keeping as low a profile as possible. He didn’t even look at me after he’d started on his way again.
Oh, and as for that image I was making at the time I was so rudely interrupted . . . well here it is.
As I got back to Beast, Ann asked, “Well, was the image worth dying for? I was waiting for him to trample all over you!” I wasn’t worried . . . I had mailed our life insurance payment just before we left on vacation!
It’s Tuesday now and we had one hell of a thunderstorm last night. I guess the weather has finally arrived!