Okay, so I've been remiss.
I try to update my blog, at the very least, when I travel. I didn't do this during the last trip I made, which was back in June. It was a great trip, there just weren't a lot of photo ops, and that's kinda' what I'm about.
Regarding that trip, though, I will say this: Barberian's Steakhouse in Toronto has, without question, the finest steak on the planet. At 47 years old, I've had more than a few steaks, and there is simply none better. Not cheap, mind you. Dinner for five was over $700.00, but it was amazing; well worth the price of admission.
I guess, now, I'm nothing but a corporate shill. I'm cool with that.
I'm sitting in my den, pondering the almost completely packed suitcase on the couch across the room. It mocks me.
I've been looking forward to this trip for a while. In fact, I think I've been looking forward to this trip than I have any other I've done.
I'm leaving in a few hours for Calgary, Alberta. Whence I land, I'll be meeting up with my buddy Andy Lund. We'll then drive west to Canmore, Alberta. Canmore's a little town in the Canadian Rockies which sees its' population more than triple during the Canmore Folk Music Festival. We're one of the festival sponsors this year. Andy's a festival veteran, having done many around the United States, but this one's my first.
Before the festival, though, we've got some cool things on the schedule. Tomorrow morning we'll be rafting down the Bow River. Tomorrow night, we've got a radio interview to do. The festival starts Saturday and runs through Monday (which is a holiday up there). Then we'll spend next week doing shows in Canmore, Calgary, and Edmonton.
Our accomodations in Canmore should be cool. When it looked like the only place in town was going to be two rooms at the local Econo-Lodge (say it with me now: "Blech"), I was able to score a one-week rental of a two bedroom condo right in Canmore.
I've packed too much; I always do. I'd rather not fall short in the "Dude, I've Got No Clean Socks" Department. I've got two bags (ones a gym bag 'cause, you know, I go to the gym). I've got way too many packs of cigarettes but, at $12.00 a pop in Canada, I'd rather be bringing some home than running out.
So, I hope to maintain this little narrative during the trip. There are certainly going to be more than enough photo ops. I'm taking my Canon 40D (with a full lens assortment) and my Canon G10 and Andy's taking my Canon 20D. I'm thinkin' we've got it covered.
More from the road later...
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I Love Layovers...
I'm sitting in the Aviator's Club in Denver International. For those of you who don't know, it's the only place in the airport where you can enjoy a smoke. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm working on it.
Some hammerhead of a woman just walked in here, had a cigarette, and walked out. Ordinarily, that would be of no special note. Unfortunately, this woman was pushing a stroller.
You can see the problem.
One of the waiters told her that their "legal age" policy is strictly enforced. The woman decided it would be a good idea to argue. Freakin' brilliant. The smoker in me has to give her credit, though. She used the time she spent arguing with the waiter to smoke her cigarette. I think the waiter was a breath away from calling airport security when she said "Fine! I'm leaving!"
Some people's kids, I swear.
There's another woman sitting two tables from me, wearing the most ridiculous looking hat I've ever seen. Actually, it's not that ridiculous. It just adopts that special status on her. She's also using a cigarette holder that's a mile long.
I enjoy flying through Denver for this reason. As a photographer, I watch people. Sadly, most or of an ilk I prefer not to photograph, such a Hat Woman. But it's an interesting commentary, I think, on the general appearance of society. People have stopped caring what they look like.
I'm wearing jeans, a button down shirt, and shoes. Nothing fancy, but certainly presentable. Such appears to not be the case with the woman, seated at the bar, wearing sweat pants with the word "JUICY!" spread across her impressively large ass. That's not juice. That's sausage gravy.
A guy at the bar is juggling quarters. Another is leaning almost completely across the bar so he can hear the Yankee game. The guy next to him appears to be either asleep or dead. I truly suspect the former, but the latter would make for a better story.
Oh, my. Hat Woman has a cow-print purse. The woman is the personification of fashion.
Watching people like this makes you wonder how people look at you. I'm rarely concerned with what someone's perception of me is. At 47, it's highly unlikely that I'll be changing any time soon if someone doesn't care for me.
But, for God's sake, the least I can do is dress well...
Some hammerhead of a woman just walked in here, had a cigarette, and walked out. Ordinarily, that would be of no special note. Unfortunately, this woman was pushing a stroller.
You can see the problem.
One of the waiters told her that their "legal age" policy is strictly enforced. The woman decided it would be a good idea to argue. Freakin' brilliant. The smoker in me has to give her credit, though. She used the time she spent arguing with the waiter to smoke her cigarette. I think the waiter was a breath away from calling airport security when she said "Fine! I'm leaving!"
Some people's kids, I swear.
There's another woman sitting two tables from me, wearing the most ridiculous looking hat I've ever seen. Actually, it's not that ridiculous. It just adopts that special status on her. She's also using a cigarette holder that's a mile long.
I enjoy flying through Denver for this reason. As a photographer, I watch people. Sadly, most or of an ilk I prefer not to photograph, such a Hat Woman. But it's an interesting commentary, I think, on the general appearance of society. People have stopped caring what they look like.
I'm wearing jeans, a button down shirt, and shoes. Nothing fancy, but certainly presentable. Such appears to not be the case with the woman, seated at the bar, wearing sweat pants with the word "JUICY!" spread across her impressively large ass. That's not juice. That's sausage gravy.
A guy at the bar is juggling quarters. Another is leaning almost completely across the bar so he can hear the Yankee game. The guy next to him appears to be either asleep or dead. I truly suspect the former, but the latter would make for a better story.
Oh, my. Hat Woman has a cow-print purse. The woman is the personification of fashion.
Watching people like this makes you wonder how people look at you. I'm rarely concerned with what someone's perception of me is. At 47, it's highly unlikely that I'll be changing any time soon if someone doesn't care for me.
But, for God's sake, the least I can do is dress well...
Day 7...
I don't normally do seven day trips. Leaving San Diego on a Monday and returning on a Sunday is a rarity for me, and I'm not a big fan of it. For some reason, I think I would almost rather stay two or three days longer. Somehow, it just doesn't seem as bad.
But this was a good trip. I'd never been to northern British Columbia, despite intentions to the contrary. The photo ops were plentiful. The drive from Hinton, Alberta through Jasper National Park is one I would definitely like to make again.
Alberta, from Grande Prairie to Edmonton, was flat, straight, and long. Not necessarily something I'd like to do a second time.
My drive today is a short one; from the Hampton Inn & Suites in Leduc, Alberta to the Edmonton International Airport, which is just down the road. I'm guessin' 20 minutes or so.
I think I can handle that...
But this was a good trip. I'd never been to northern British Columbia, despite intentions to the contrary. The photo ops were plentiful. The drive from Hinton, Alberta through Jasper National Park is one I would definitely like to make again.
Alberta, from Grande Prairie to Edmonton, was flat, straight, and long. Not necessarily something I'd like to do a second time.
My drive today is a short one; from the Hampton Inn & Suites in Leduc, Alberta to the Edmonton International Airport, which is just down the road. I'm guessin' 20 minutes or so.
I think I can handle that...
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Beginning Of The End...
My drive from Grande Prairie to Edmonton was uneventful.
And straight.
And very, very flat.
What should've taken about four hours took more like 5-1/2, and it felt like six. It just wouldn't end.
I fly back to San Diego tomorrow. Today will be spent with a client here in Edmonton, some dinner tonight, and then an 11:00am flight tomorrow, with a layover in Denver. If you have to have a layover, Denver'snot a bad place to do it.
This has been a good week, both business-wise and leisure-wise. Jasper National Park remains, clearly, the high point. Incredible views, amazing wildlife; just an all-inclusive damn good time.
All I need to do is get through today incident-free, and this week is in the books...
And straight.
And very, very flat.
What should've taken about four hours took more like 5-1/2, and it felt like six. It just wouldn't end.
I fly back to San Diego tomorrow. Today will be spent with a client here in Edmonton, some dinner tonight, and then an 11:00am flight tomorrow, with a layover in Denver. If you have to have a layover, Denver'snot a bad place to do it.
This has been a good week, both business-wise and leisure-wise. Jasper National Park remains, clearly, the high point. Incredible views, amazing wildlife; just an all-inclusive damn good time.
All I need to do is get through today incident-free, and this week is in the books...
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Heading North...
The morning of Wednesday, May 14, we left the Price George, BC for the thriving metropolis of Fort St. John, BC. Fort St. John sits about five hours north.
We fueled up in Prince George, and decided to drive for about an hour and then stop for some breakfast. What we failed to realize at the time, though, is that, up here, there aren't exactly a lot of places to stop and eat once you're outside the towns.
Our luck held solid, though. About an hour into the drive, we happened upon "The Grizzly Inn":
Now, I'd told Wayne that I wanted to find some local "greasy spoon" as opposed to a Denny's or something like that. Well, mission accomplished. They come no greasier than The Grizzly Inn.
But it was good.
When we sat down, our waiter told us that it was too late for breakfast. When I asked if there was no way to get breakfast, he replied "Not really. My Mom can't cook breakfast to save her life". So, I asked "Do you cook?". He replied that he did and, if we could wait until his Mom finished cooking lunch for another table, he'd be happy to cook breakfast.
Score.
The drive was plagued by some rather extended bouts of rain; sometimes hard. Unlike the drive from Hinton to Prince George, there wasn't a lot of wildlife to see. We did, however, see a black bear along the side of the road. He was a little bigger than the one I'd seen the day before. Time wasn't on our side, so we opted not to stop.
Our next stop was several hours later, after the coffee had run its' course. After negotiating a rather extended grade down the mountains, we stopped at a most welcome rest stop. We were driving down the "Pine Grade", so this was the "West Pine" rest stop:
Wayne was shy at first:
It was cold down here, but we didn't mind walking around in shirt sleeves. The snow was not far away, though:
Wayne and I each wanted shots of ourselves with the snow in the background. I know, I know. Who cares. I always take a lot of photos of the people I travel with, but rarely am I on the other side of the camera. Ergo, you get photos of us with snow in the background:
We'll be leaving for Grand Prairie, Alberta later this morning. This drive will be a welcome one; only about two hours or so. That'll be a nice change from the 5-1/2 hours I've dealt with each of the last two days...
We fueled up in Prince George, and decided to drive for about an hour and then stop for some breakfast. What we failed to realize at the time, though, is that, up here, there aren't exactly a lot of places to stop and eat once you're outside the towns.
Our luck held solid, though. About an hour into the drive, we happened upon "The Grizzly Inn":
Now, I'd told Wayne that I wanted to find some local "greasy spoon" as opposed to a Denny's or something like that. Well, mission accomplished. They come no greasier than The Grizzly Inn.
But it was good.
When we sat down, our waiter told us that it was too late for breakfast. When I asked if there was no way to get breakfast, he replied "Not really. My Mom can't cook breakfast to save her life". So, I asked "Do you cook?". He replied that he did and, if we could wait until his Mom finished cooking lunch for another table, he'd be happy to cook breakfast.
Score.
The drive was plagued by some rather extended bouts of rain; sometimes hard. Unlike the drive from Hinton to Prince George, there wasn't a lot of wildlife to see. We did, however, see a black bear along the side of the road. He was a little bigger than the one I'd seen the day before. Time wasn't on our side, so we opted not to stop.
Our next stop was several hours later, after the coffee had run its' course. After negotiating a rather extended grade down the mountains, we stopped at a most welcome rest stop. We were driving down the "Pine Grade", so this was the "West Pine" rest stop:
Wayne was shy at first:
It was cold down here, but we didn't mind walking around in shirt sleeves. The snow was not far away, though:
Wayne and I each wanted shots of ourselves with the snow in the background. I know, I know. Who cares. I always take a lot of photos of the people I travel with, but rarely am I on the other side of the camera. Ergo, you get photos of us with snow in the background:
We'll be leaving for Grand Prairie, Alberta later this morning. This drive will be a welcome one; only about two hours or so. That'll be a nice change from the 5-1/2 hours I've dealt with each of the last two days...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Jasper National Park: A Study In Break Pads...
I lit out of Hinton, Alberta after a rather hearty breakfast at the hotel. I stopped at a Petro Canada to fill up, and I was on my way.
It had rained a bit Monday night, but it seemed to have moved on a bit. The drive was met with periods of rain and some sunshine, although the majority of the time it was just overcast. That has a downside and an upside. The downside is that the colors in the photos tend not to be as vivid as they would be if I was shooting in the sun. The upside is that I didn't have to deal with harsh shadows created by the sun. All in all, it was a trade off I didn't mind making.
My "ride" for this trip is a 2009 Dodge Nitro. Kinda' boxy on the outside, but it's nice and roomy on the inside. It also has a good deal of power if I need it. And, as far north as I'll be heading on this trip, I still don't think I'll need the 4X4:
My first encounter was with a deer. Don't ask me what kind of deer; I don't know. Whitetail, maybe? Really, I don't know. "The kind of deer that eats fruits and leaves and stuff". How about that?
I was a bit surprised that, when I got out of the car, the deer just stood there. I would've expected it to dart off into the woods. There were two of them, though, so I guess they figured they could take me if I got too close.
So, I figured I had my "wildlife shot", but I kept the Canon 40D on the passenger seat. You know, just in case. Well, I'm glad I did. As I came around a bend, I saw a camper and two cars pulled over to the side of the road. As I got closer, I saw why:
This male elk was standing, literally, at the side of the road. There was another nearby, but it seemed to have more than a passing interest in the Bounder RV parked on the roadside. But when I say "roadside", I mean "roadside":
Since I knew I'd be making this drive, I decided to bring the full photo rig. I've gotten to the point that, when I travel, I only bring the Canon G10. But, since I'd never been here before, and because I've heard about the wildlife here, I decided to bring the 40D, the Sigma 17-70mm, and the "Bigma"; the Sigma 50-500mm Sigma. It really had some benefits:
I'd gotten out of the truck and got down on one knee for that shot. When the elk lifted his head to look at me, I immediately turned to see just how far away from the truck I was. You know... just in case. Those antlers may have been fuzzy, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to feel just how soft as he pinned me to the ground with them.
The elk gave me one last glance as I got back into the truck. I still had a long drive ahead of me and, as much as I would've loved to have been able to just stay here and shoot these magnificent animals, I had to get back on the road.
The drive itself had periods of grandeur and boredom. I have this habit that, when I'm bored, and a camera is nearby, I'll take photos of just about anything:
Oh, and if it wasn't for GPS, I have know idea where I'd have ended up.
Jasper National Park is at no loss for vistas. This is one of those instances where I would've paid for more sun:
This is another "Damn, I wish there was more sun" shot. This is Moose Lake. Here in mid-May, it's still largely frozen over:
After driving a while, I was light on coffee (which is never good). I found the Cafe Mt. Robson, so I stopped in:
As nice as this place was, I was the only one in the restaurant. I'm guessing the owner was glad I didn't order any food, so he wouldn't have to clean the grille.
Before long, the wildlife started showing up again. This herd of elk were off in a field a few hundred yards from the road:
I saw more elk than anything else:
There were so many elk, I was worried I was going to wear out the brakes. It seemed that, around every turn, there was another reason to stop and grab the camera.
I finally decided that I had more than enough elk photos to satisfy all the need for elk photos that mankind may ever have. So, I set the camera on the passenger seat and headed down the road.
About an hour outside of Prince George BC, I was thankful that all the stopping I did in Jasper hadn't worn out the brakes. On the side of the road was a black bear. I couldn't get on the brakes fast enough and, to be honest, I almost ran off the road trying to stop. Hey, that'll happen when you're doing 140 (kph):
Unlike when I was shooting the elk and the deer, I opted to stay in the truck when I shot the bear. He was a juvenile, but I'm pretty sure that, at best, I'd have had my hands full if he came after me. I erred on the side of caution with my decision to just roll the window down and shoot from the driver's seat.
Up until yesterday morning, I would've said that Banff National Park was just about the most perfect place on the planet, and I have said as much, and I've said it often. But Japser offered so much more. The vistas were every bit as perfect, and the wildlife viewing opportunities of Banff simply cannot compare with those of Jasper; it's simply no contest.
So we're off to Fort St. John today. It's about a five hour drive, so we want to get on the road. I'm not planning for too many photo-ops along the way but, you know, sometimes you just never know...
It had rained a bit Monday night, but it seemed to have moved on a bit. The drive was met with periods of rain and some sunshine, although the majority of the time it was just overcast. That has a downside and an upside. The downside is that the colors in the photos tend not to be as vivid as they would be if I was shooting in the sun. The upside is that I didn't have to deal with harsh shadows created by the sun. All in all, it was a trade off I didn't mind making.
My "ride" for this trip is a 2009 Dodge Nitro. Kinda' boxy on the outside, but it's nice and roomy on the inside. It also has a good deal of power if I need it. And, as far north as I'll be heading on this trip, I still don't think I'll need the 4X4:
My first encounter was with a deer. Don't ask me what kind of deer; I don't know. Whitetail, maybe? Really, I don't know. "The kind of deer that eats fruits and leaves and stuff". How about that?
I was a bit surprised that, when I got out of the car, the deer just stood there. I would've expected it to dart off into the woods. There were two of them, though, so I guess they figured they could take me if I got too close.
So, I figured I had my "wildlife shot", but I kept the Canon 40D on the passenger seat. You know, just in case. Well, I'm glad I did. As I came around a bend, I saw a camper and two cars pulled over to the side of the road. As I got closer, I saw why:
This male elk was standing, literally, at the side of the road. There was another nearby, but it seemed to have more than a passing interest in the Bounder RV parked on the roadside. But when I say "roadside", I mean "roadside":
Since I knew I'd be making this drive, I decided to bring the full photo rig. I've gotten to the point that, when I travel, I only bring the Canon G10. But, since I'd never been here before, and because I've heard about the wildlife here, I decided to bring the 40D, the Sigma 17-70mm, and the "Bigma"; the Sigma 50-500mm Sigma. It really had some benefits:
I'd gotten out of the truck and got down on one knee for that shot. When the elk lifted his head to look at me, I immediately turned to see just how far away from the truck I was. You know... just in case. Those antlers may have been fuzzy, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to feel just how soft as he pinned me to the ground with them.
The elk gave me one last glance as I got back into the truck. I still had a long drive ahead of me and, as much as I would've loved to have been able to just stay here and shoot these magnificent animals, I had to get back on the road.
The drive itself had periods of grandeur and boredom. I have this habit that, when I'm bored, and a camera is nearby, I'll take photos of just about anything:
Oh, and if it wasn't for GPS, I have know idea where I'd have ended up.
Jasper National Park is at no loss for vistas. This is one of those instances where I would've paid for more sun:
This is another "Damn, I wish there was more sun" shot. This is Moose Lake. Here in mid-May, it's still largely frozen over:
After driving a while, I was light on coffee (which is never good). I found the Cafe Mt. Robson, so I stopped in:
As nice as this place was, I was the only one in the restaurant. I'm guessing the owner was glad I didn't order any food, so he wouldn't have to clean the grille.
Before long, the wildlife started showing up again. This herd of elk were off in a field a few hundred yards from the road:
I saw more elk than anything else:
There were so many elk, I was worried I was going to wear out the brakes. It seemed that, around every turn, there was another reason to stop and grab the camera.
I finally decided that I had more than enough elk photos to satisfy all the need for elk photos that mankind may ever have. So, I set the camera on the passenger seat and headed down the road.
About an hour outside of Prince George BC, I was thankful that all the stopping I did in Jasper hadn't worn out the brakes. On the side of the road was a black bear. I couldn't get on the brakes fast enough and, to be honest, I almost ran off the road trying to stop. Hey, that'll happen when you're doing 140 (kph):
Unlike when I was shooting the elk and the deer, I opted to stay in the truck when I shot the bear. He was a juvenile, but I'm pretty sure that, at best, I'd have had my hands full if he came after me. I erred on the side of caution with my decision to just roll the window down and shoot from the driver's seat.
Up until yesterday morning, I would've said that Banff National Park was just about the most perfect place on the planet, and I have said as much, and I've said it often. But Japser offered so much more. The vistas were every bit as perfect, and the wildlife viewing opportunities of Banff simply cannot compare with those of Jasper; it's simply no contest.
So we're off to Fort St. John today. It's about a five hour drive, so we want to get on the road. I'm not planning for too many photo-ops along the way but, you know, sometimes you just never know...
Monday, May 11, 2009
Well, this is certainly a trip I’ve been looking forward to.
As I’ve said before, Banff National Park is just about the most perfect place I’ve ever been. The scenery rips the breath out of you. Well, on this trip, I’ll be driving through Jasper National Park, on my way from Hinton, Alberta to Prince George, British Columbia. I’m told Jasper is even more inspiring than Banff, so I’m looking forward to that.
Sitting in the Aviator’s Club in Denver International, though, all I can do is wait. There have been no delays thus far, so knock on wood. I’ve been enjoying some coffee, a smoke, and ESPN on the widescreen. Flying in, the Rockies were covered in snow, so I suspect I’ll be seeing some of that once I start driving west from Edmonton later this afternoon.
We shall see…
As I’ve said before, Banff National Park is just about the most perfect place I’ve ever been. The scenery rips the breath out of you. Well, on this trip, I’ll be driving through Jasper National Park, on my way from Hinton, Alberta to Prince George, British Columbia. I’m told Jasper is even more inspiring than Banff, so I’m looking forward to that.
Sitting in the Aviator’s Club in Denver International, though, all I can do is wait. There have been no delays thus far, so knock on wood. I’ve been enjoying some coffee, a smoke, and ESPN on the widescreen. Flying in, the Rockies were covered in snow, so I suspect I’ll be seeing some of that once I start driving west from Edmonton later this afternoon.
We shall see…
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Well, it's certainly been some time since I posted anything. Seems like regardless the desire, the action sometimes rarely follows. I'll try to rectify that here in the near future. I've got a trip planned to northern British Columbia the week after next, and I'm starting to piece together one to Newfoundland in the summer; likely July.
But, as much as my travels permit me some amazing photographic opportunities, they pale in comparison to those of a very good friend of mine, Holt Webb.
I first met Holt at a meeting of the San Diego chapter of the American Society of Media Photographers. At the time, he worked at a local camera shop, and made me some pretty killer deals on camera gear at a time when good deals were exactly what I needed. I was starting to get heavily into digital photography, and that gear doesn't come cheap. Holt helped me out with some, well, let's call it "special" pricing.
Anyway, Holt and I developed a friendship that was deeply rooted in a love for photography. Holt's a pro. I picked his brain every chance I got.
Well, one day, Holt told me he'd be leaving his gig at the camera shop, and would be embarking on a project that he'd dreamed about doing for some time. He called it "Vanishing America". I won't go into what his project entails, other than to say it's admirable and all-consuming. You can check out the project here.
So, Holt was hittin' the road.
He's been back to San Diego a few times since he started the project; three, I think. It's always good to see him when he's back. I try to follow his travels and his exploits on his website, and we e-mail back and forth, but there's nothing like catching up over dinner, trading war stories, and just having a beer or three.
Okay, I lied. Let me tell you the Cliff Notes version of what it is he's doing.
Holts is travelling around the country in a motorhome, documenting those things in our country that are in danger of disappearing forever. He's documenting this with his camera. His photos are varied. He's shot wild mustang herds and he's shot soon-to-be-gone mid-America general stores. He's shot airplane graveyards and abandoned YMCA's. The guy is always shooting.
Along with his motorhome (named "BABS", for "Big Ass BuS"), which is wrapped in one of his photos of the Okeefenokee Swamp...
He's pulling a highly modified Range Rover Defender, known as "The Greasy Beast":
What's cool about both of these is that they run on vegetable oil or diesel fuel. Holt tries to be as environmentally conscious as he can, hence the transformation of both of these vehicles to run on "veggie oil".
I'm not sure how many miles he's logged in these two, but it's a bunch. Cross country trips are not uncommon (he leaves for Tennessee this Saturday night).
So, why am I going on and on about my buddy Holt? Well, because I think what he's doing is just about as cool as it gets. Being a photographer, there's a degree of envy. How cool would it be to spend five years (which is his plan) taking photos? Unfortunately, the reality is that keeping this project on the road isn't cheap.
He has sponsors and some small benefactors, but the fact of the matter is that money is what makes the Vanishing America world go 'round.
If you go to Holt's website, you'll see where you can buy his photographs. For fine art photography, his prices are damn good. You should buy one. You should buy several. If you need artwork, well, there ya' go.
If you're reading this after following a link on Facebook, join the Vanishing America cause. There are over 1,000 members in that cause. If every member donated $25.00 to the cause, it would be a ridiculously huge boost to this project. He's in talks with the Smithsonian (yeah, the guy really is that good), and he's had gallery exhibits of his Vanishing America work. He's doing everything he can to keep his show on the road.
So visit his website, and learn about this project. Learn about what he's trying to do, and how he's trying to do it. I think you'll conclude that what he's doing needs to be done. I know you'd like to do it; Hell, I'd like to do it. But, hey, he's already got the motorhome, so let's just help him do it.
I would say you should feel free to ask me any questions about this, but go to his website, contact Holt, and ask him about it. He's as passionate about this project as anyone could be about just about anything, and he really loves telling people about what he's doing, and why he's doing it.
I'm not sure when he'll be back in San Diego, nor do I know when I'll get the chance to head out on the road with him (which I plan to do at some point), but I know he'll be out there shooting...
But, as much as my travels permit me some amazing photographic opportunities, they pale in comparison to those of a very good friend of mine, Holt Webb.
I first met Holt at a meeting of the San Diego chapter of the American Society of Media Photographers. At the time, he worked at a local camera shop, and made me some pretty killer deals on camera gear at a time when good deals were exactly what I needed. I was starting to get heavily into digital photography, and that gear doesn't come cheap. Holt helped me out with some, well, let's call it "special" pricing.
Anyway, Holt and I developed a friendship that was deeply rooted in a love for photography. Holt's a pro. I picked his brain every chance I got.
Well, one day, Holt told me he'd be leaving his gig at the camera shop, and would be embarking on a project that he'd dreamed about doing for some time. He called it "Vanishing America". I won't go into what his project entails, other than to say it's admirable and all-consuming. You can check out the project here.
So, Holt was hittin' the road.
He's been back to San Diego a few times since he started the project; three, I think. It's always good to see him when he's back. I try to follow his travels and his exploits on his website, and we e-mail back and forth, but there's nothing like catching up over dinner, trading war stories, and just having a beer or three.
Okay, I lied. Let me tell you the Cliff Notes version of what it is he's doing.
Holts is travelling around the country in a motorhome, documenting those things in our country that are in danger of disappearing forever. He's documenting this with his camera. His photos are varied. He's shot wild mustang herds and he's shot soon-to-be-gone mid-America general stores. He's shot airplane graveyards and abandoned YMCA's. The guy is always shooting.
Along with his motorhome (named "BABS", for "Big Ass BuS"), which is wrapped in one of his photos of the Okeefenokee Swamp...
He's pulling a highly modified Range Rover Defender, known as "The Greasy Beast":
What's cool about both of these is that they run on vegetable oil or diesel fuel. Holt tries to be as environmentally conscious as he can, hence the transformation of both of these vehicles to run on "veggie oil".
I'm not sure how many miles he's logged in these two, but it's a bunch. Cross country trips are not uncommon (he leaves for Tennessee this Saturday night).
So, why am I going on and on about my buddy Holt? Well, because I think what he's doing is just about as cool as it gets. Being a photographer, there's a degree of envy. How cool would it be to spend five years (which is his plan) taking photos? Unfortunately, the reality is that keeping this project on the road isn't cheap.
He has sponsors and some small benefactors, but the fact of the matter is that money is what makes the Vanishing America world go 'round.
If you go to Holt's website, you'll see where you can buy his photographs. For fine art photography, his prices are damn good. You should buy one. You should buy several. If you need artwork, well, there ya' go.
If you're reading this after following a link on Facebook, join the Vanishing America cause. There are over 1,000 members in that cause. If every member donated $25.00 to the cause, it would be a ridiculously huge boost to this project. He's in talks with the Smithsonian (yeah, the guy really is that good), and he's had gallery exhibits of his Vanishing America work. He's doing everything he can to keep his show on the road.
So visit his website, and learn about this project. Learn about what he's trying to do, and how he's trying to do it. I think you'll conclude that what he's doing needs to be done. I know you'd like to do it; Hell, I'd like to do it. But, hey, he's already got the motorhome, so let's just help him do it.
I would say you should feel free to ask me any questions about this, but go to his website, contact Holt, and ask him about it. He's as passionate about this project as anyone could be about just about anything, and he really loves telling people about what he's doing, and why he's doing it.
I'm not sure when he'll be back in San Diego, nor do I know when I'll get the chance to head out on the road with him (which I plan to do at some point), but I know he'll be out there shooting...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Nothing says “good business trip” like being able to take time during your travels to enjoy some of the local scenery. As my travels take me through Canada, I get to see everything from the modern cities of Toronto and Vancouver to the idyllic scenery of Nova Scotia and Victoria. For a photographer, this type of variety lends itself well to photography, as the subjects are as varied as the Canadian climates in Fall.
This time around, I was headed for Calgary, Alberta. Calgary bills itself as “The Heart Of The New West” and, looking around, it’s easy to see why. A bustling metropolitan area, complete with the world-famous Calgary Stampede rodeo grounds, sits alongside the gateway to the Canadian Rockies, Banff National Park.
I love Banff National Park.
My trip from San Diego began eventfully enough, as my flight out was delayed by an hour. This, of course, all but demanded that I miss my connection in Denver. I should’ve arrived in Calgary at about 8:30pm on Monday. But, after a painfully long wait in the Denver airport (I felt like that Tom Hanks character in “The Terminal”), I was able to score a standby seat on the 9:30pm flight to Calgary. Of course, travel being what it is these days, that flight didn’t depart Denver until almost 1:00am Tuesday morning. When it was all said and done, I arrived in Calgary at about 3:30am on Tuesday. Now, it sure would’ve been nice if those car rental counters were open 24 hours a day, but such is not the case. Instead, I got to wander around an almost deserted Calgary International Airport until Budget Rentals opened at 6:00am.
And, when I say “deserted”, I mean deserted:
I finally got my car and made my way to the Holiday Inn. As I’d been up all night, Tuesday was spent in bed, catching up on sleep a few hours here, a few hours there. I finally turned in for good at about 7:30pm on Tuesday. Such an early bedtime would surely mean an early wake-up on Wednesday, and it did. I awoke at about 3:00am, which was in keeping with my plan. I wanted to leave Calgary by 4:30am, so I could get to Banff, specifically Lake Louise, before the crowds started showing up.
One does not undertake this trip without one, if not two, cups of coffee. The downside of that, as you might imagine, is the inevitable call of Mother Nature. Well, after my second cup, Mother Nature wasn’t calling, she was screaming. Thankfully, about halfway between Calgary and Lake Louise, is a rest stop which I’ve stopped at every time I’ve come through here (this being my third time). It overlooks the Bow River, and offers some wonderful vistas for taking pictures.
It also has one of these:
After a pleasant drive into the mountains, I ended up pulling into the parking lot at the Chateau Fairmount, which sits right alongside the lake, at about 6:30am, camera in-hand.
If you’ve never been to Lake Louise, you need to go before you die. It’s just that simple. I’ve been fortunate to have been all over the world, visiting six continents, and Lake Louise remains, in my opinion, just about the most perfect place on the planet. The lake normally doesn’t thaw until mid-July, which is something I didn’t know the first time I came here, in April of 2006. At that time, there was two feet of snow on the ground, it was snowing, and there were dogsleds.
This time, however, the turquoise waters of the lake reflected the snow-covered peaks overlooking the lake:
When I was here last, the canoe-rental business was having, well, let’s just call it a “lull”. This time of year, though, the business is booming. Canoes rent for $55.00 an hour and, while some early risers head out in the pre-sun morning, all 20 canoes are routinely reserved every hour between 10:00am and 7:00pm.
There are signs everywhere around the lake warning of attempting to interact with the local wildlife. This is, after all, “Grizzly country”. While I didn’t see any bears, there were two member of the wildlife community willing to indulge me.
The first was a Clark’s Nutcracker:
And the second was this way-to-comfortable-around-humans Golden Mantel Ground Squirrel:
After spending a couple of hours at Lake Louise, I decided to drive the 10 kilometers up to Moraine Lake. The road to Moraine Lake was closed the last time I was here, so this was my first time visiting. The waters of Moraine seem almost even more turquoise than Louise, especially when the sun hits the water:
After a full morning of shooting, I decided it was time to head east again. I had an appointment in Canmore; roughly halfway between, well, not far from that rest stop, and I wanted to be there about noon.
To end the day, I ended up rolling back into Calgary, past Olympic Park, at around 6:30pm. The rest of the evening was spent looking at all the photos that I consider myself lucky to have capture.
The trip back to San Diegovwas uneventful, and it made me wonder why all the "travel drama" always seems to be on the way there, and never on the way home.
Maybe that's because, no matter how bad it gets, on the way back, you're still going home...
This time around, I was headed for Calgary, Alberta. Calgary bills itself as “The Heart Of The New West” and, looking around, it’s easy to see why. A bustling metropolitan area, complete with the world-famous Calgary Stampede rodeo grounds, sits alongside the gateway to the Canadian Rockies, Banff National Park.
I love Banff National Park.
My trip from San Diego began eventfully enough, as my flight out was delayed by an hour. This, of course, all but demanded that I miss my connection in Denver. I should’ve arrived in Calgary at about 8:30pm on Monday. But, after a painfully long wait in the Denver airport (I felt like that Tom Hanks character in “The Terminal”), I was able to score a standby seat on the 9:30pm flight to Calgary. Of course, travel being what it is these days, that flight didn’t depart Denver until almost 1:00am Tuesday morning. When it was all said and done, I arrived in Calgary at about 3:30am on Tuesday. Now, it sure would’ve been nice if those car rental counters were open 24 hours a day, but such is not the case. Instead, I got to wander around an almost deserted Calgary International Airport until Budget Rentals opened at 6:00am.
And, when I say “deserted”, I mean deserted:
I finally got my car and made my way to the Holiday Inn. As I’d been up all night, Tuesday was spent in bed, catching up on sleep a few hours here, a few hours there. I finally turned in for good at about 7:30pm on Tuesday. Such an early bedtime would surely mean an early wake-up on Wednesday, and it did. I awoke at about 3:00am, which was in keeping with my plan. I wanted to leave Calgary by 4:30am, so I could get to Banff, specifically Lake Louise, before the crowds started showing up.
One does not undertake this trip without one, if not two, cups of coffee. The downside of that, as you might imagine, is the inevitable call of Mother Nature. Well, after my second cup, Mother Nature wasn’t calling, she was screaming. Thankfully, about halfway between Calgary and Lake Louise, is a rest stop which I’ve stopped at every time I’ve come through here (this being my third time). It overlooks the Bow River, and offers some wonderful vistas for taking pictures.
It also has one of these:
After a pleasant drive into the mountains, I ended up pulling into the parking lot at the Chateau Fairmount, which sits right alongside the lake, at about 6:30am, camera in-hand.
If you’ve never been to Lake Louise, you need to go before you die. It’s just that simple. I’ve been fortunate to have been all over the world, visiting six continents, and Lake Louise remains, in my opinion, just about the most perfect place on the planet. The lake normally doesn’t thaw until mid-July, which is something I didn’t know the first time I came here, in April of 2006. At that time, there was two feet of snow on the ground, it was snowing, and there were dogsleds.
This time, however, the turquoise waters of the lake reflected the snow-covered peaks overlooking the lake:
When I was here last, the canoe-rental business was having, well, let’s just call it a “lull”. This time of year, though, the business is booming. Canoes rent for $55.00 an hour and, while some early risers head out in the pre-sun morning, all 20 canoes are routinely reserved every hour between 10:00am and 7:00pm.
There are signs everywhere around the lake warning of attempting to interact with the local wildlife. This is, after all, “Grizzly country”. While I didn’t see any bears, there were two member of the wildlife community willing to indulge me.
The first was a Clark’s Nutcracker:
And the second was this way-to-comfortable-around-humans Golden Mantel Ground Squirrel:
After spending a couple of hours at Lake Louise, I decided to drive the 10 kilometers up to Moraine Lake. The road to Moraine Lake was closed the last time I was here, so this was my first time visiting. The waters of Moraine seem almost even more turquoise than Louise, especially when the sun hits the water:
After a full morning of shooting, I decided it was time to head east again. I had an appointment in Canmore; roughly halfway between, well, not far from that rest stop, and I wanted to be there about noon.
To end the day, I ended up rolling back into Calgary, past Olympic Park, at around 6:30pm. The rest of the evening was spent looking at all the photos that I consider myself lucky to have capture.
The trip back to San Diegovwas uneventful, and it made me wonder why all the "travel drama" always seems to be on the way there, and never on the way home.
Maybe that's because, no matter how bad it gets, on the way back, you're still going home...
Sunday, May 25, 2008
"Oh, This Changes Everything"...
I wish I had more photos for this entry; I really do. Unfortunately, I don't. I just have a couple for the end.
So, my tale of woe:
On Monday, May 19, I was to fly to Kelowna BC to meet my buddy and guitarist Marc Seal to do some shows in British Columbia. It seemed simple enough; some quick flights and we're there.
Oh, but such was not the case.
We met up in Seattle, where Marc had changed his flight from there to the same as mine. All seemed well. We'd get there at the same time, thereby alleviating the need for me to go back to the airport in Kelowna to pick him up. It was the perfect plan.
I think it was John Steinbeck who said something about "The best laid plans...", but I digress.
We were mortified when the guy at the counter announced that our flight out of Seattle was not delayed (because that wouldn't have inconvenienced us enough), but cancelled, due to radar failure in Kelowna. They didn't know when repairs would be made, so they started the wholesale cancellation of flights in and out of Kelowna.
Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't panic. But we had to be in Kelowna Tuesday afternoon. The only flight they could guarantee us a seat on was the one which departed Seattle at 4:40pm on Tuesday. This would not do. It was a painful realization to arrive at, but it was inevitable and unavoidable: We would have to drive.
Now, the problem with driving is that I would be renting the car in Seattle, but wouldn't be bringing it back. Ergo, I needed to find a car that they didn't want coming back to Seattle. I finally found a BC-tagged mini-van ('cause that's how I roll) at the Avis counter. We loaded our luggage and hit the road at around 5:00pm on Monday.
Marc was kinda' bummin'. Had he not changed his original flight to mine, he may well have been able to fly out that evening. But, he did change his flight, so into the mini-van he went. Marc was sad.
Well, only until he turned on the radio.
Seems that some car rental companies are now equipping their vehicles with satellite radio as a standard option. Marc was happy. Keep the talent happy. He gleefully tuned both up and down, finding all kinds of things you'd never find on your standard FM dial.
"Oh", exclaimed Marc, "This changes everything".
We settled on a comedy channel which, quite frankly, almost had me driving off the road a number of times from laughing so hard. It kept us laughing right up until we hit the Canadian border.
I've crossed the US/Mexico border more times than I can count, but have only driven across the US/Canadian border twice. Each time, it was painless and fast. Not so this time. No, not so this time at all. You see, we were driving into Canada on the Canadian holiday "Victoria Day". This was the last day of their long weekend. As a result, we sat in a long line of traffic, at Peace Arch Park, waiting to cross. Marc was getting a bit perturbed at those who saw fit to drive around traffic and get back into line closer to the border.
"I have a system of justness", said Marc. "And this is unjust".
After about an hour and a half, we made it across the border, and began making our way towards Kelowna at, finally, a decent speed.
Before Monday night, if I was going to offer advice to someone about anything, it might be along the lines of "Never eat anything bigger than your head". After Monday night, though, it would likely be "Don't drive from Seattle to Kelowna in a mini-van, along unfamiliar roads, at night, in the rain". While we suffered no catastrophic delays, it was a long drive, and I was making it after having only two and a half hours sleep the night before. Thankfully, an unrequited recipe for disaster.
We finally arrived in Kelowna around 1:00am. All things considered, things went well. We'd stopped for a bite to eat which added to the time, but we were in relatively good shape when we got to our hotel in Kelowna.
Our stay in Kelowna was uneventful overall; we had a good show and met up with some members of the Canadian band Cold Driven. These guys are some hard-touring musicians who've put everything they have into what they're doing. I wish them luck!
On Wednesday, we made the drive from Kelowna down to Vancouver. This is usually a pretty boring drive; some nice scenery, but little else. This time, though, as we hit the summit of the Coquihalla Highway, it started to snow.
A lot.
Now, bear in mind that this is the latter half of May. The very idea of snow falling in May is alien to someone from southern California. But, hey, there it was. Marc was shooting video and photos, completely amazed at what he was seeing. The snow was sticking to the trees but, thankfully, not to the road. My "drivin' in the snow" chops ain't exactly what they used to be.
We arrived at our hotel in Vancouver around 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon. We settled in, and then made our way over to the venue for the show. After the show, I had what was probably the best Filet Mignon I've ever had at The Granville Room. After dinner and a few local brews, we made our way back to our hotel.
Okay, now we start getting to the point where I have photos.
Thursday morning, we had to catch the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria BC. I've made this crossing many times, and the weather can be sketchy. This time, though, it was nice enough.
Early on, we didn't think we were going to make the 11:00am ferry. We were still having breakfast at our hotel at 10:00am. The drive to the terminal is a good 25 minutes, and Tue ferries tend to be a bit crowded. Maybe, given the wait we had at the Canadian border on Monday evening, the Travel Gods opted to smile upon us. We made the ferry with about ten minutes to spare.
We left the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal at 11:00am sharp, beginning our trek to Victoria BC:
Ferries run almost non-stop in both directions, and it's not unusual to pass ferries going to or from Vancouver, Victoria, Nanaimo, or any one of the many smaller islands along the way:
We had clouds, but no rain, which made for an enjoyable trip:
The scenery during this crossing is pretty amazing. Houses are built along cliffs, and there's an endless array of small craft navigating the waterways:
Once in Victoria (which is one of my favorite cities in the world, by the way), we found our way to the Garrick's Head Pub. I first visited this pub back in 1982 while in the Navy. I make it a point, now, to visit for lunch or supper every time I visit Victoria. The pub's been here, under the same name, since 1867. They've got a great staff, great pub fare (including a burger that'll be among the best you've ever had), and great locally brewed ales.
On Friday, May 23, we had the entire day ahead of us, as our flight wasn't scheduled to leave Victoria until 5:50pm. Accordingly, we decided to do some "touristy" stuff while we had some time.
Our first stop was Butchart Gardens. If you're into flowers, this is the place for you. It was first created in 1904, and has been continually added to. The park is 55 acres, and encompasses a mind-numbing selection of flowers and other fauna. One of the most distinct features of the park is the Sunken Garden:
The Butchart Gardens are a photographer's dream. Every time I turned around, I found something else that I just had to shoot. Some examples:
What we didn't expect to find was an outlet to a previously unknown to us area called Butchart Cove. It offered some very nice photo-ops, as well:
After Butchart Gardens, we made our way down to Victoria and over to Craigdarroch Castle. Craigdarroch, completed in 1890, is a 39-room castle that, now, is nestled in a residential community. Three and four bedroom homes surround this 4-1/2 story stone mountain of a home:
Marc Seal puts the "roch" in "Criagdarroch":
Your truly on the steps of Craigdarroch Castle:
After visiting Craigdarroch, we went down to the Inner Harbor of Victoria for some lunch before heading out to the airport to wrap up this trip. We finally got out of Victoria on Friday night, after more flight delays and more than a bit or anxiety. After a week on the road, both Marc and I were more than ready to get home...
So, my tale of woe:
On Monday, May 19, I was to fly to Kelowna BC to meet my buddy and guitarist Marc Seal to do some shows in British Columbia. It seemed simple enough; some quick flights and we're there.
Oh, but such was not the case.
We met up in Seattle, where Marc had changed his flight from there to the same as mine. All seemed well. We'd get there at the same time, thereby alleviating the need for me to go back to the airport in Kelowna to pick him up. It was the perfect plan.
I think it was John Steinbeck who said something about "The best laid plans...", but I digress.
We were mortified when the guy at the counter announced that our flight out of Seattle was not delayed (because that wouldn't have inconvenienced us enough), but cancelled, due to radar failure in Kelowna. They didn't know when repairs would be made, so they started the wholesale cancellation of flights in and out of Kelowna.
Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't panic. But we had to be in Kelowna Tuesday afternoon. The only flight they could guarantee us a seat on was the one which departed Seattle at 4:40pm on Tuesday. This would not do. It was a painful realization to arrive at, but it was inevitable and unavoidable: We would have to drive.
Now, the problem with driving is that I would be renting the car in Seattle, but wouldn't be bringing it back. Ergo, I needed to find a car that they didn't want coming back to Seattle. I finally found a BC-tagged mini-van ('cause that's how I roll) at the Avis counter. We loaded our luggage and hit the road at around 5:00pm on Monday.
Marc was kinda' bummin'. Had he not changed his original flight to mine, he may well have been able to fly out that evening. But, he did change his flight, so into the mini-van he went. Marc was sad.
Well, only until he turned on the radio.
Seems that some car rental companies are now equipping their vehicles with satellite radio as a standard option. Marc was happy. Keep the talent happy. He gleefully tuned both up and down, finding all kinds of things you'd never find on your standard FM dial.
"Oh", exclaimed Marc, "This changes everything".
We settled on a comedy channel which, quite frankly, almost had me driving off the road a number of times from laughing so hard. It kept us laughing right up until we hit the Canadian border.
I've crossed the US/Mexico border more times than I can count, but have only driven across the US/Canadian border twice. Each time, it was painless and fast. Not so this time. No, not so this time at all. You see, we were driving into Canada on the Canadian holiday "Victoria Day". This was the last day of their long weekend. As a result, we sat in a long line of traffic, at Peace Arch Park, waiting to cross. Marc was getting a bit perturbed at those who saw fit to drive around traffic and get back into line closer to the border.
"I have a system of justness", said Marc. "And this is unjust".
After about an hour and a half, we made it across the border, and began making our way towards Kelowna at, finally, a decent speed.
Before Monday night, if I was going to offer advice to someone about anything, it might be along the lines of "Never eat anything bigger than your head". After Monday night, though, it would likely be "Don't drive from Seattle to Kelowna in a mini-van, along unfamiliar roads, at night, in the rain". While we suffered no catastrophic delays, it was a long drive, and I was making it after having only two and a half hours sleep the night before. Thankfully, an unrequited recipe for disaster.
We finally arrived in Kelowna around 1:00am. All things considered, things went well. We'd stopped for a bite to eat which added to the time, but we were in relatively good shape when we got to our hotel in Kelowna.
Our stay in Kelowna was uneventful overall; we had a good show and met up with some members of the Canadian band Cold Driven. These guys are some hard-touring musicians who've put everything they have into what they're doing. I wish them luck!
On Wednesday, we made the drive from Kelowna down to Vancouver. This is usually a pretty boring drive; some nice scenery, but little else. This time, though, as we hit the summit of the Coquihalla Highway, it started to snow.
A lot.
Now, bear in mind that this is the latter half of May. The very idea of snow falling in May is alien to someone from southern California. But, hey, there it was. Marc was shooting video and photos, completely amazed at what he was seeing. The snow was sticking to the trees but, thankfully, not to the road. My "drivin' in the snow" chops ain't exactly what they used to be.
We arrived at our hotel in Vancouver around 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon. We settled in, and then made our way over to the venue for the show. After the show, I had what was probably the best Filet Mignon I've ever had at The Granville Room. After dinner and a few local brews, we made our way back to our hotel.
Okay, now we start getting to the point where I have photos.
Thursday morning, we had to catch the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria BC. I've made this crossing many times, and the weather can be sketchy. This time, though, it was nice enough.
Early on, we didn't think we were going to make the 11:00am ferry. We were still having breakfast at our hotel at 10:00am. The drive to the terminal is a good 25 minutes, and Tue ferries tend to be a bit crowded. Maybe, given the wait we had at the Canadian border on Monday evening, the Travel Gods opted to smile upon us. We made the ferry with about ten minutes to spare.
We left the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal at 11:00am sharp, beginning our trek to Victoria BC:
Ferries run almost non-stop in both directions, and it's not unusual to pass ferries going to or from Vancouver, Victoria, Nanaimo, or any one of the many smaller islands along the way:
We had clouds, but no rain, which made for an enjoyable trip:
The scenery during this crossing is pretty amazing. Houses are built along cliffs, and there's an endless array of small craft navigating the waterways:
Once in Victoria (which is one of my favorite cities in the world, by the way), we found our way to the Garrick's Head Pub. I first visited this pub back in 1982 while in the Navy. I make it a point, now, to visit for lunch or supper every time I visit Victoria. The pub's been here, under the same name, since 1867. They've got a great staff, great pub fare (including a burger that'll be among the best you've ever had), and great locally brewed ales.
On Friday, May 23, we had the entire day ahead of us, as our flight wasn't scheduled to leave Victoria until 5:50pm. Accordingly, we decided to do some "touristy" stuff while we had some time.
Our first stop was Butchart Gardens. If you're into flowers, this is the place for you. It was first created in 1904, and has been continually added to. The park is 55 acres, and encompasses a mind-numbing selection of flowers and other fauna. One of the most distinct features of the park is the Sunken Garden:
The Butchart Gardens are a photographer's dream. Every time I turned around, I found something else that I just had to shoot. Some examples:
What we didn't expect to find was an outlet to a previously unknown to us area called Butchart Cove. It offered some very nice photo-ops, as well:
After Butchart Gardens, we made our way down to Victoria and over to Craigdarroch Castle. Craigdarroch, completed in 1890, is a 39-room castle that, now, is nestled in a residential community. Three and four bedroom homes surround this 4-1/2 story stone mountain of a home:
Marc Seal puts the "roch" in "Criagdarroch":
Your truly on the steps of Craigdarroch Castle:
After visiting Craigdarroch, we went down to the Inner Harbor of Victoria for some lunch before heading out to the airport to wrap up this trip. We finally got out of Victoria on Friday night, after more flight delays and more than a bit or anxiety. After a week on the road, both Marc and I were more than ready to get home...
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Toronto, Etal...
April brought me to Toronto, Ontario.
I normally don't bring a camera to Toronto, simply because I rarely have a lot of time to go shooting when I'm there. It's a lot to carry from San Diego when I accept the reality that I probably won't use it.
But, I had it with me this week, so use it I did.
Toronto has a pretty good subway system; one I've never used before. I decided to go ahead and ride it, in the hopes that I might get some shots worth keeping. Tried to get a bit "artsy" on these:
Now, subways can be two things: They can be the conduit through which thousands travel every day to their jobs, shopping; what have you. They can also be a bit of a freak show:
I tried to figure out exactly what that girl's story was but, alas, I failed. Miserably. I simply can't reason why someone would not only do that, but why someone would do that and then go out in public.
Gotta' love the subway.
So, I'm in Toronto but, this time, I was not alone. Guitarist extraordinaire Marc Seal was with me for this week. Marc is the host of his own television show, call "The Ultimate Guitar Show". The guy is a monster player, and one Helluva' nice guy.
Anyway, Marc wanted to go to Niagara Falls, so away we went on Thursday. If you've never been there, it's pretty amazing. We were on the Canadian side which, evidently, offers a far better view of the falls than the American side.
To wit:
We had originally planned to go on Wednesday. Crossing the hotel lobby after breakfast, though, we looked outside to see that it was absolutely pouring outside. Hardly a good day for sightseeing. So, we waited a day, and we're glad we did. The weather was absolutely glorious. Mark was pleased:
Marc flew back to southern California on Friday, and I followed on Saturday. We've got another trip planned to British Columbia in May, and I always take my camera to British Columbia.
Stay tuned...
I normally don't bring a camera to Toronto, simply because I rarely have a lot of time to go shooting when I'm there. It's a lot to carry from San Diego when I accept the reality that I probably won't use it.
But, I had it with me this week, so use it I did.
Toronto has a pretty good subway system; one I've never used before. I decided to go ahead and ride it, in the hopes that I might get some shots worth keeping. Tried to get a bit "artsy" on these:
Now, subways can be two things: They can be the conduit through which thousands travel every day to their jobs, shopping; what have you. They can also be a bit of a freak show:
I tried to figure out exactly what that girl's story was but, alas, I failed. Miserably. I simply can't reason why someone would not only do that, but why someone would do that and then go out in public.
Gotta' love the subway.
So, I'm in Toronto but, this time, I was not alone. Guitarist extraordinaire Marc Seal was with me for this week. Marc is the host of his own television show, call "The Ultimate Guitar Show". The guy is a monster player, and one Helluva' nice guy.
Anyway, Marc wanted to go to Niagara Falls, so away we went on Thursday. If you've never been there, it's pretty amazing. We were on the Canadian side which, evidently, offers a far better view of the falls than the American side.
To wit:
We had originally planned to go on Wednesday. Crossing the hotel lobby after breakfast, though, we looked outside to see that it was absolutely pouring outside. Hardly a good day for sightseeing. So, we waited a day, and we're glad we did. The weather was absolutely glorious. Mark was pleased:
Marc flew back to southern California on Friday, and I followed on Saturday. We've got another trip planned to British Columbia in May, and I always take my camera to British Columbia.
Stay tuned...
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