Tom Bessette: Words & Images

Saturday October 9th 2010

Adrift in the Plains...

The Moose River Plains, that is. Ponds, streams, gravel roads, tractless wilds, hunters...

See previous post for introductory Info. View images of the area in my Moose River Plains Document gallery.

I didn't take picture of the hunters. In addition to the water images described in teh previous post, I also made less detailed images of ponds, streams and vleis that I ran across.

At right i sthe South Branch of the Moose River. I had been hoping to drive to the trailheads of the three lkes (Beaver, Squaw and Indian) that are south along this southwestern spur road but the gate was up at the bridge. Don't know if there were road washouts or the bridge was deemed unsafe.

At left is one of the many beaver vleis I happened across; this one near the intersection of the trunk road and the southwestern spur road. I slogged through cripple brush and bog grasses to get to the shore for this image. Hoping, still to see a moose, knowing full well that the barking dogs and occasional rifle shots had sent them well into the interior bush for safety.

I visited Lost Ponds, Helldiver pond, Icehouse Pond and many of these vleis. saw lots of geese, an Eagle, but not much else in the way of wildlife.

That said, the light was beautiful and my time was enjoyable and well spent.

I met the hunters with the dogs near helldiver pond. The dogs were beagles, and they were being sent after rabbits. Yammering and howling; you could hear them miles away, as, I'm sure, could the rabbits...and bears, and moose, and grouse, and deer, and the rest of the hunters...

It's not every day you see such a production about rabbits this far into the bush .

I also hiked into Mitchell Ponds. Two miles into the interior, passing vleis, rock outcroppings, and softly lit second growth like that at right.

Altogether I hiked close to 12 miles over the course of the day, and made over 500 images, about 120 of which are posted in the 2 galleries noted in these posts.

It wasn't what I set out to so, but was a satisfying day, nevertheless.

Saturday October 9th, 2010

Distracted by Flowing Water...

See my Moose River Plains Waterflow Gallery.

Drove up to the Moose River Plains Recreation Area this past Friday night. Got there around 11:15PM, slept in the car and was awake at first light. I had planned to paddle on the Cedar River Flow at sunrise, but there was gusty wind and no mist, and so the imaging opportunities were not what I was looking for. Decided to go on a Moose watch instead.

Moose River Plains is a State Wild Forest area west of Indian lake and at the top edge of the West Canada Lakes Wilderness Area. The East Entrance is at Wakeley Dam on Cedar River Flow so I registered and drove in.

The Plains is bisected by a gravel road that runs about 18 miles east to west, with a few spurs at the west end penetrating further into the woods. I was hoping to see moose at some of the many ponds and beaver vleis that dot the area. 15 mph, slow going.

I knew this, of course but didn't think it through: it was hunting season, specifically bear season.

Bear hunters were everywhere. Luckily I had my Kokatat bright orange paddling anorak and so was visible everywhere I went. I met and talked to about 30 of the hunters, and hiked around with a few of them. Nice guys, every one. Most were just happy to be out in the woods.

With the shots and the dogs, it was clear that my chance of seeing a moose was much diminished, so I got distracted by all the running water that was everywhere.

After two weeks of steady rain, the streams and rivers and creeks were running high and swift. I was impressed with the flow, the speed, and so hunkered down to the water level whenever I could, shooting at around an 8th to 15th of a second to emphasize the feel of the movement. I went for abstract swirling to clear foaming and everything in between.

Take a look at the gallery of images.

Sunday October 3rd 2010

On Forked Lake, again... See the Forked Lake Brandreth Creek gallery.

So, we did a basket case (class!) Saturday and today we planned to meet my friend Matt Holcomb to paddle on Forked Lake. He kept seeing my images and really wanted to try it out.

I met Matt for the first time this past July. I had earlier started a 'Hornbeck Boat Lovers' Facebook page and he was one of the first to 'Like' it. When he said he came up to the Adirondacks every so often, we hooked up last July for a paddle up Bog River. When we knew we'd both be up here this past weekend, we planned to do this trip.

Kim and I stayed at Pete Hornbeck's rustic cabin Saturday night. It's way off in the woods by a stream at the back of his property in Olmstedville. He met us there and started a nice fire in the woodstove. We dragged our sleeping bags and lanterns (No electricity!) in and then went off to a nice dinner at the Wells House in Pottersville, a few miles away.

After dinner (and a couple of drinks) we stopped at Pete's pond on the way back and looked at incredible stars for a while and then crawled up into the cabin loft (it was very toasty in there with the woodstove) and fell asleep.

Next morning we met Matt a few minutes after 8AM in Long lake, 40 miles away. Had breakfast at the Diner and then headed off to the West End launch at Forked Lake.

It was 37 degrees when we put on the water and headed a mile west and up into the Brandreth Creek swamp. Colors were well past peak but there was still foliage to enjoy.

Forked Lake was in flood after the rain of the last few days, vestiges of Hurricane Nicole. Th ewater was close to two feet higher than normal. That made our paddle up the stream nuch easiet. The first beaver dam, instead of being two feet high and requiring a portage, was at water level and we simply paddled right over it.

The lilypads that usually floated on the surface were well submerged.

As we paddled I, as usual, was thoroughly distracted by the images forming on my camera's LCD screen.

It was a great day for reflections. Color, texture, and abstract composition came easily and often.

We had the swamp and stream all to ourselves and could have gone deep into the woods, but we started to think about getting out and home. We decided to turn around at the rapids (if you carry above, you have a good two miles more of paddling a narrowing mountain stream).

We visited the campsites at the West End and then headed back to the launch. Since the water was so high, we stopped at the East End at the State Campground and walked out to Campiste 75 to see that it was, in fact, nearly submerged.

Note to self: when five inches of rain are to fall, select alternate campsite.

We did the obligatory stop at Buttermilk Falls, which was raging, and then parted ways with Matt, and headed home.

Saturday October 2nd, 2010

I made a basket......

Kim and I signed up for a Basket Weaving class for this Saturday October 2nd 2010 at the Adirondack Museum in Blue Mountain lake.

Neither of us had any idea what to expect; we did it as a lark and just to do something different.

We were both able to make and finish a Market Basket, along with a class of 10 others. I was the only man. We had a great time and wove baskets that, if not perfect, certainly showed individuality. My biggest mistake was messing up the stitching around the handle.

I'm a man and I wove a basket in a class with my wife. Kim is a woman and the next day she paddled miles up a wilderness stream with me. I say we have a fine marriage!

Like my basket??????

Saturday September 25th, 2010

A nice walk with the family...

Kim picked this one. In our quest to see the 'rest' of the Adirondacks, this one loomed large as a great hike, not too hard, and not too far away.

So we drove north to Lake Luzerne, took a left across the river to Hadley, headed north towards Stoney Creek and took a left up to the hills to tower road and the trailhead.

Nice southern woods. The lot was full, but it wasn't a big lot so we weren't too worried about crowds. As described, the trail was in great shape, much of it over bare rock as at right. I especially enjoyed all teh glacial erratic boulders strewn through the woods adjacent to the trail. It was uphill from the start. Steep or moderately steep teh whole way up th eridge, but pleasant because teh trail was so good.

See the images in the Hadley Mountain Hike gallery.

So, the hike up the ridge was steep and never moderated too much, and the kid was tired and slow for a good while.

Once on the ridge, the trail eased off for a while and we were able to rest up a bit. It steepened a bit towards the summit again, but not too bad and we were soon there, slightly more than an hour from our start time.

Nice views of the surrounding mountains, nice rock outcropping and ledges and the Great Sacandaga Lake stretched off to the south.

Unfortunately, what started off as a beautiful sunny day turned into a thick overcast with pretty good winds, so much so that climbing the firetower gave me even more of the willies than usual. Jenna, my fearless mountain goat, was even shaky and didn't climb up too far.

The wind was cold so after viewing a bit, we retreated to a sheltered place and had our lunch, complete with fleece pullovers snugged tight.

Then I wandered with my camera, as usual. Oh, my patient girls...

Right off the top of the summit was an incredible garden of ferns spilling through a vail below some nice rock outcrops.

I took about 60 images of these ferns and included about 10 or so in the gallery (I tooks lots of very similar images!).

Yellots, some golds and oranges, some still green, against a backdrop of great textured stone. Beautiful...

My girls looked over the tower, explored a bit, rested and relaxed a while and then started off the summit to get out of the wind while i continued my pooting amongst the ferns.

As I've said many times, i lose track of time and where or when I am, while I am with camera.

Ther ewas a steady stream of people, but most we saw heading down as we wer estill heading up. So, ther ewere few enough around that it didn't hamper my free reign of composition.

As is typical, there was an old caretakers cabin just off the summit.

Kim and Jenna found a 'creepy hole', to use Jenna's phrasing, near the cabin. It was clearly an old food cache. Probably home to rattlers now.

There was ample evidence of camping in front of the cabin, with a handy outhouse just down the hill a piece.

The cabin windows were boarded up with plywood and teh door was well locked and barricaded, unlike the cabin on Blue Mountain, where you can peer inside.

As usual, where there is surface, you can find Graffiti. The piece at left caught my eye, and was drawn on one of the pieces of plywood that covered a front window.

The hike down was easy and totally pleasant and we got home in time to get to the UAlbany volleyball game. Our women won!

Saturday September 18th, 2010

Been meaning to come here for a while...

In 2006, Henderson Lake was made open to the public. It is now part of the Tahawus Tract but was privately held for 175 years. It is nestled in the southern High Peaks Wilderness area a short carry from the Upper Works Trailhead to Mt. Marcy and Indian pass, and other destinations.

In my desire to visit remote lakes and ponds that I rarely see, or haven't yet, seen, this was high on the list for this year.

I got up at 3AM Saturday morning, got to the trailhead while it was still dark, and was on the water at first light.

I put a selection of 93 images in the Henderson Lake Morning gallery.

What a day I had...

Above is a view north along the lake with Wallface Mountain just peeking out of the fog. Those who follow my blog will remember my views of Wallface from the summit of Algonquin Peak last Saturday.

The lake was very quiet and I had it all to myself, though as the morning progressed, two other solo paddlers showed up.

On the southern end, two streams enter in from the mountains just south and west of the lake. I paddled one of them quite a ways up, possibly as far as 3/4 mile, to an area of swift water and feeder streams blocked by beaver dams.

This is an area that gives a real wilderness feel. I saw a lot of moose sign, scat, tree rubbings, and tons of trails to the water made by moose, deer, bear and coyotes.

As is typical of areas like this, swamp maples were turning early, adding a breath of fall color tpo the deep woods.

Loons called in the distance, Mergansers fluttered across the water, and the air had that damp feeling of mystery and the smell of autumn drawing near.

As calm as this stream looked, the current was swift and getting a still looking image was difficult, as my boat kept turning every which way except the way I wanted, whenever I put down my paddle.

I got out here and there to visit beaver dams and walk in the untrailed woods, to see what I could see.

A look at the map showed that I was paddling Santanoni creek and it flowed from that iconic mountain range into Henderson lake without so much as crossing but one trail, and no roads at all.

Back out towards the lake, the mist was rising and lowering every few minutes, casting alternate warm and cold glows on the Santanonis to the south.

I went a bit crazy at one point, taking easily 30 images of Santanoni Peak, reflected in its namesake waters, with the light slanting on the swamp trees and clouds bubbling the sky.

Yes, I get carried away, lost in my study of light and wilderness shoreline, oblivious to time, cold, damp, or even to the fact that I am floating in a 12 foot open decked kayak, bobbing like a cork on any ruffled water that happens by.

As I came again to my senses, if such be the case, I started seeing reflections everywhere I looked, and again, went into my own world, framing, composing, reading light, putting my small camera through its paces.

There was an interesting area of dead swamp trees along the shore just where Santanoni Creek emptied into the lake. I spent who knows how long floating by that, making image after image.

After a quick stop to visit a waterfall and do a deep woods errand, I was back in my boat and geaded up the other stream and adjacent bay, still on the south half of the lake.

The fog was starting to give way and I found more reflections, and more compositions of Santanoni Peak rising above the woods and waters.

Met up with a solo paddler, who was in a Placid Boatworks Rapid Fire. That is a boat that some would say is a competitor to mine. It is 15' long (the also make a 12' Spitfire) and weighs about 10-12 pounds more than mine, cost sabout a thousand more, and is more highly finished. Nice boat, not a doubt, but for what Ii do, Imade the right choice.

This was the first time I have ever seen a Placid Boatworks boat on the water in the three yeatrs I have been looking. Seen tons of Hornbecks, like mine, but never a Placid before. In fact had only ever seen one on the roof of a car and that was earlier this summer. Then, later today, when I got back to the parking lot, wasn't there another Rapid Fire being unloaded for the carry to the lake.

After running across a solo paddler in a traditonal kayak, the fog really started to lift. The lake was flat calm (got very windy later) and Wallface and McNaughton Mountains, north of the lake, looked picture postcard beautiful, and I dutifully made images, grumbling to myself the whole while (we artistes don't like to waste our time making postcards, you see...).

Ok, yes, it was absolutely beautiful...

I started paddling north along the west shore and before I was near the north end, the wind came up and pushed me along, me aware all the while that I'd have to paddle back against it.

Oh, well....

There is a newly built Lean-To(on the site of the old one) in the northwest corner. It is on the lake and also on the trail to Preston Ponds and Duck Hole.

Now that I know where it is, I am planning a three day trip next year to carry the boat 2 miles to Preston Ponds and then continue on to Duck Hole. 30 years since I have been there and remember it as one of the more beautiful places I have ever been. Picture postcard perfect...

Near the Lean-To, I paddled up to a waterfall (small), up a creek, and then floated back down, fascinated by underwater rocks mingling with thereflections of the surrounding woods. Color, texture ad the swirl of water providing an abstract element.

Later, I paddled a good half mile up Indian Pass Brook, until it got so gravelly and shallow, with frequent riffles, that I decided to head back out.

Paddled against the wind for a mile back to the put in in the East Cove, back to the car.

It was still very early afternoon and I had thought I would hike up into Indian Pass if I had the time. So, after loading the boat on the car, i changed into hiking boots, grabbed a lunch I had brought, water and set off up the trail.

I started immediately behind a party of 4 women, probably my age or a tad younger, setting off in clean shorts and sneakers. The trail was an old gravel road this low and was in great shape, meaning hardly any mud or streams using the trail as their run. Soon, the ladies were crabbing about getting their feet wet and everything else there was to crab about. Just as one was saying that they should be wearing boots, I passsed them with mine, slogging up the wet, feet dry, smiling back at them. Yes, people should be prepared anytime they enter the woods, even on a nice day on a short walk.

I hiked 3 miles in before a deep stream crossing and my oncoming turn-around time made me decide that I wouldn't get up in the pass today. Took my time on the way out, making stream and reflection images and saw this great Monarch at left.

Got home at 7PM, sore, tired, beat, but happy for another day.

Saturday September 11th, 2010

We made the summit of Algonquin after a challenging hike...

This is a sequel to the previous post, below. Images of Algonquin Summit in the Algonquin Summit Gallery.

Phew! We are out of shape, and so was the trail, but no excuses, we made it to timberline and now continue our hike up the summit cone to the top.

The alpine vegetation is very fragile and 100 year old shrubs can be devastated if you step on them, so it is important to stay on the trail.

At right is a section of trail above timberline with one of the huge rock cairns, so important in leading the way in thick fog or snowstorms. We didn't need them today; it was just a perfect summit day. Heart Lake (our starting point) and Wright Peak are in the background, looking north.

At left shows the Algonquin Tundra Ecosystem, very similar to what you would find in Canada's Northwest Territories or Alaska's North Slope.

Even though this was early mid september and it was beautiful out, the seasons are already changing up this high. The grasses, green from June through late August, are turning yellow/orange already.

There are terrific boulders everywhere (glaciers scoured these mountains), outcrops of granite and gneiss and small protected areas where 200 year old balsam grows to a few feet high.

Algonquin is the second highest of New York's High Peaks, at 5112' elevation (Marcy is 5344', Whiteface is 4857'). Interestingly, a guy at the summit had a GPS and claimed it said he was at 5132' elevation.

At any rate, we were pretty much above everything else up here, and the views were unimpeded in all directions. This is why I never feel tired above timberline, there is just too much to look at.

There is a program called Summit Stewards.

These outstanding people spend their days on the summits of our major peaks providing visitor education, encouragement to stay off the vegetation and not litter, and also build the cairns and line the trails with rocks that were painstakingly carried up the mountains.

When I was younger and fancy free, I applied a few times, was never accepted (other, more experienced people filling the few openings) and then got a regular job, then got married, then had a kid... all things that preclude my spending my summer days living on a mountain summit.

Anyway, I didn't see a steward today, and am sure I would have, since they take care to greet every hiker who manages to crawl up the summit.

But, I could see the results of their work everywhere; their attempts to revegetate trampled areas, their painstaking lining of the trail with guide stones, and those strong cairns that have saved my life on more than one occasion when I couldn't otherwise see where the trail went.

Even though it has been a very dry summer, there is almost no soil for water to seep into, so in cases where water accumulates and cannot run off, it stays in picturesque little puddles. I get fascinated by little details like this and spent a while photographing a number of these.

My wife was a trooper this trip. She has been on Algonquin a number of times with me, back when we were both thinner and in better shape. This trip really did a number on her. She had all she could do to reach the summit and, I believe, seriously considered turning back more than once during the ascent. But she stuck with it and made the top on her last legs. I'm proud of you, babe!

We found a sheltered overhang to hide from the slight cool breeze and sat in the sun and ate our lunch and guzzled some water.

Kim then laid back and near instantly fell asleep. It was a beautiful day and I had no problem staying on the summit for an extendd time. So, I left her and spent an hour wandering the summit with my camera, while she snoozed and regained her stamina.

There were a lot of people on the summit, possibly more than 50 at any given time.

The last time we'd climbed this mountain, we also 'ran' over to Iroquois. There were a number of peak baggers doing that today.

Iroquois is considered a 'Trailless' peak, in that the State does not maintain an official trail to the summit. However, so many people have travelled onto these mountains that they make herd paths, which are trails that do not have markers, made by people following the same path for years, until it is a s easy to follow as any regular trail.

Iroquois is pretty easy, figure for an average person, like me, an hour for the round trip from Algonquin summit, assuming you don't hang out over there, enjoying the stupendous view back to Algonquin. I understood, from other hikers, though, that the valley (col) between Algonquin and Boundary (the small summit between Algonquin and Iroquois) was very wet and muddy.

I have not done the 46 highest peaks; am NOT a 46er. I have climbed 37 of these peaks over the last 32 years. Many I have re-climbed (Algonquin over 25 times), others only the once. So, I am not a peak bagger, if I ever was. I love these mountains and don't need to 'conquer' every one of them, hardly telling one from the other.

I revisit my favorites whenever I get the urge. Algonquin, being my absolute favorite, I have visited so often, that I feel I know it like my back yard. I love Mt. Skylight, and Gothics Mountain. Mt Colden is spectacular, looking down the slides to Avalanche Lake below. Haystack is a son of a @#$! to get to, it is so far in, but the views and remoteness are outstanding.

I do not need to climb Gray Peak again, nor Street and Nye, nor Redfield, Cliff, not the Sewards or Santanonis or the Wolfjaws. I have never done Allen and will not. Etc...!

So, I am grateful for the work of the stewards. I am happy that so many people are trying to educate hikers on the ways of preserving the beauty of these summits. I stay away from the summits in rainy weather, not because I am a wimp, but because hiking in wet weather speeds the erosion process on the trails and does irreparable damage to the high elevation grasses and lichens, and everything else that coats these hills with beauty.

I am wondering if I should stop climbing, so that I am not adding my incremental, unintended damage to the summits I so love. Crap!

Oh, at left are some rocks that people carried up the mountain, lining the trail.

At right is Mt. Colden with its iconic and famous slides. Above and beyond is the high summit cone of Mt. Marcy, the highest peak in the state. It, too is a wonderful summit, loved to death by all of us, many who are concerned and a huge number who are unconcerned.

The concerned, like me, try their best to limit their impact, and like me, probably, wrestle with the demons of indecision and the battle between 'I want to' and 'should I'?

I take great pains to stay on the rock on these summits. I NEVER step on vegetation. But, Kim and I watched as a man trampled a tuft of grasses so that he could pose exactly perfectly for a picture with his companion with the proper background.

I noted in the post below that the trails showed major erosion damage, much more than 12 years ago when I last climbed and much, much more than 30 years ago when I started coming up here. 12 years ago, the summits were mudholes with ugly scars everywhere where feet had trampled everything to oblivion. So, the trails up are worse, but now, with the work of the stewards program, the summits seem to be recovering. So, there is hope.

We keep coming, though.

I didn't count how many people summited today. Easily well more than 50. We hear stories about the crouds on Everest, especially the people who the cognoscenti would claim have no business being there. Unprepared, unconcerned and uncaring. Clueless. Stupid. I confess I think like this a lot. There are people, I would argue, that have no business trampling our mountains. They don't care about them, this is a one time experience that they really don't care about, or they are here to conquer and don't care what they leave in their wake. Then there are those who have no idea what they are doing. They come unprepared and uneducated, cause damage and/or get in trouble and need to be rescued. Happens all the time.

Then the democrat in me gets up and reminds me that I am not the arbiter here of who should be able to enjoy this public property. It's not my call to decide who is using it properly and who cares properly.

Sometimes I hate being a liberal!

At any rate, Kim took an hour nap and woke up much refreshed. She even scrambled around for a while taking her own pictures of the summit beauty.

Then, we joined the procession down the mountain (above). Going down is much easier on the wind, but much tougher on the joints. We waited at bottlenecks for people to negotiate walls and jump offs, and stood aside to let people pass who were still climbing, panting and grumbling their way by us.

I had eaten a number of dried apricots that were seriously disagreeing with my stomache about something, and I was interested to get below timberline where I would find a tree to get behind, and enough soil to dig a hole. So, between sore knees and that, I was slightly south of the best of shape. Kim, refreshed and renewed, led the whole way.

At right, we are at the top of the wall again. An idiot ahead of us crunched through the cripplebrush, leaving an obvious wake of damage. We went down on our tushes, feet first, wetting our rear ends. Then we slipped on steep stone trails for another two miles.

It was 4 hours up, 3 hours down and 2 hours on the summit. A good day.

Saturday September 11th 2010

Finally, we're climbing Algonquin...

It's been twelve years, at least. We used to climb this great mountain at least every other year. But, since the kid...

Anyway, we finally decided this was the year, and were just watching out for the perfect summit day for our climb. The forecast said it would be today.

We drove up last night and got to our booked Lean-To at the Adirondack Loj campground at Heart Lake after dark.

Set up our sleeping bags, shared a solitary beer, and crashed.

Hike inages are at: Algonquin Peak Trail gallery.

We were up by 6:30AM Saturday and on the trail at 7:40AM. We weren't first on the trails, even that early.

Above is Kim at the McIntyre Brook crossing a short distance from the trail head. This used to be a short bridge over a narrow stream, but the beavers have been busy and now a huge area is flooded. Beautiful, even when the long bridge dips almost into the water in the center.

I started hiking in the early '70's and Algonquin was my first major peak. One big difference I see now is the huge trail erosion problem. We are literally loving these mountains to death. So many feet trodding the trails, wearing away the forest duff, gouging down to the bedrock, scraping away the good soil, leaving slippery tree roots and worn bedrock.

Luckily there are noble volunteers who supply muscle for trail maintenance that very much helps the passage of so many hikers.

At left is a sample of the rock stairs (looking down) that these volunteers have built into the trail. Think of the brute labor involved...and tread lightly, for God's sake! Thanks, Volunteers!

The trail is 3.9 miles from trail head to the summit and ascends 3000' and a bit.

The first mile and a half is essentially flat, a walk through nice woods to well beyond the Marcy Dam turnoff at .9 miles. A mile and a half in, the trail starts ascending through a nice birch forest, for a good milke or more. This used to be a climb, relentless and seemingly neverending, but the trail was mostly smooth with good footing.

I was shocked that since my last time here, the trail bed has been so eroded that the footing is mostly bad, now populated with the rocks and boulders that used to be mere bumps in the ground, now 1 and 2 feet tall, and slippery. In spots I could see that the trail was a full 2 feet lower than it used to be. We were walking as in a ditch.

Towards the top of the birch forest area, we reached the Cascade, a wall waterfall that is an iconic resting spot for hikers going up or down. I included images of the Cascade and of the pool below in the gallery.

Above the cascade, the trail steepens, as at right, with worse footing and bigger boulders.

Ads you get higher on the mountain, the forest gets shorter and the trail erosion shows that there are mere inches of soil that, once worn away, will never come back, leaving bare bedrock.

Years ago, even slanted trails like this were easily navigable, because the granite and gneiss provided a good grip for our boot soles and you could simply walk aslant with only sore ankles the result.

Interestingly, now, these same grippy rocks seem smoother. You can see years worth of crampon scrapes striating the bedrock and, feeling the surface with my hand, it just felt smoother. I had new boots with the best available soles and the grip they got was much less than I remembered, even from 12 years ago.

There is something about getting high (elevation, of course!!!) on our bigger mountains. The air is more pure, the smell of balsam abounds and the feeling that you are approaching your goal is heady. You are staring to get good and tired, wondering if you can make it but, for me at least, this is where I start to get energized.

Three miles in, we hit the turn off to Wright Peak, one of the three major peaks in the MCIntyre Range, aling with Algonquin and Iroquois Peaks.

We were holding on to the idea of summiting Wright today, also, assuming we weren't too beat on the way down. Wright summit is a mere .4 miles from this junction, a steep but quick climb. It is missed by many people for precisely the reason we'd miss it today. Algonquin was the main goal and we'd be too tired to want to tackle Wright on the way down. Luckily I have done it many times (when I was younger...) so wasn't too disappointed when on the way down, our legs giving out, we opted to leave it be.

Past the Wright Peak turnoff, the trail steepens yet again, approaching alpine elevations and between clamboring up slippery bedrock and skittering on loose stone, we continued pushing for the sumkmit of Algonquin.

I have to say here, that we used to make these ascents much faster, but today we were going pretty slow. We were getting passed by youngsters (and not so youngsters) who had started out later and would clearly beat us to the summit. Well, crap, anyway.

It is always disconcerting to hit the 'wall' whenever you are doing anything physical. Those who run, for example, are known to comment on it. Hitting the wall means you get to a point where you just feel you need to stop. Your legs get heavy, it's hard to raise your feet for the next step; you might know the feeling. It is only guts and attitude that compell you to keep going. If you are lucky, you can get past the wall and be proud of yourself for doing so.

Algonquin has its own wall. As you approach timberline, you are climbing steeply up a winding trail through short cripplebrush when all of a sudden the trail comes to an abrupt stop at the base of what seems like a cliff. Those new to the trail stop and peer about, wondering where in hell the trail went. If no one more experienced happens by, they may think their quest is finished for the day (Geez, we couldn't finish, somebody took the trail!).

Well, the trail goes up, of course. The wall has always been an absolute bitch. When I used to guide people up Algonquin, the wall was always where the faint of heart fainted and the weak in spirit started sobbing. I would drag or push them up the wall, trying not to think about getting them back down. It is about 150' of near 60 dergee slope on bare bedrock interspersed with crags and boulders with impenetrable cripple brush on either side.

Climbing hands and feet will get you up. Try not to look down, or backwards, and keep your nose to the trail, literally. Don't think about how you'll get down, worry about that later!

Above the wall, the trail continues steeply, but you are getting your first amazing views out over the cripple brush to the Wright Peak summit and Whiteface Mountain in the distance, with the village of Lake Placid nestled underneath. If you have vertigo, this can be tough in spots, because the wall slopes precipitously down under your feet. Ignore that and you'll be just fine!

The trail continues steeply, winding above the headwall of the summit cone and then flattens out just before getting to timberline.

Algonquin (and Mt. Marcy) has a true timberline, or tree line, above which only low shrubs and grasses can grow and is much the same type of environment as arctic tundra, with much the same climate.

We climbed up the timberline ledge and were suddenly totally out of the woods with spectacular views all around. Whatever you do, however you feel, don't give up now!

From here it is another 500 ' of climbing in a steep quarter mile, but you don't mind, you are caught up in the alpine zone and are mesmerized by being on top of the world.

Thursday September 2nd, 2010

A walk in the Letchworth Woods...

Saturday afternoon at Letchworth. Actually, early evening, getting on to supper and sit by the fire time.

I needed to get out into the woods for a walk after a day of civilized touristing about.

A trail left at the edge of our campground grouping that supposedly led to a point at the edge of the nearby gorge.

A perfect day, late afternoon light aslant, the woods warm and breathless, it was a dazzling time for a walk through the woods.

Yeah, I took a few shots, and also included some other Letchworth Scenery in the Letchworth Views Gallery.

The light in the woods was warm and soft, with areas of brightness and areas of shadow.

The woods around the trail I was hiking were pretty open and before long I was traversing a long peninsula that jutted out into the canyon, albeit 600 feet above the canyon. There were so many trees and so much foliage at the canyon edge that I could only catch scattered glimpses of the gorge underneath and the canyon walls on the other side. I was often right on the brink of a cliff with no view off it. Just as well, it was so steep!

I hiked to trails end at a promontory, again with no view except through thick leaves.

I heard a hawk scree-ing off below me. I had passed some fairly recent bear scat a ways back. If I had had a view the trail would have been difficult for me as I am definitely nervous around heights. As it was, knowing the drop off was a few feet away, my knees were none to strong.

A good hour or so and I was back to the group, dinner, a fire and a cold one, at peace.

Thursday September 2nd, 2010

Water, Water....

Spent last Saturday exploring the waterfalls of Letchworth State Park. The Genesse River flows through the gorge at Letchworth and the gorge is euphemistically refered to as the Grand Canyon of the East. It is a nice gorge, more than 25 miles long, and in spots it is close to 600' deep.

This said, the river is murky (with silt or polution, I don't know, but I have heard stories) and in most places you can't get to the edge of the canyon to see in. At no time can you actually get to the river level itself unless you were to defy the rules and your safety and scramble down through brush and loose shale. Where you can go is very civilized and developed; this is not in any way a wilderness experience.

Still, it was pretty nice and I took a number of water related pictures. See them in my Water Letchworth gallery.

There was good waterflow last Saturday and the falls were satisfying to see.

We hiked parts of the gorge trail, most of it adjacent to parking lots and the main road, so it was always pretty noisy. We stopped dutifully at places of interest, like the spot where, at the right angle, you can see the rainbow at left.

Powerful water, great striation in the sedimentary gorge walls, lush foliage and a few areas where you can get pretty close to the waterfalls.

We stopped at a few scenic overlooks, visited the Seneca Council House (moved there from somewhere else and not looking at all like an Iroqouis Long House, oh, well). We found a nice feeder stream with a nice glen that we hiked up a bit.

Nice way to spend a weekend with friends... Thanks, Denise and Paul!

Wednesday September 1st, 2010

An hour at the Stone Tool Show...

We camped at Letchworth State Park this past weekend and one of the things going on was a Stone Tool Show, so we stopped by for a quick hour to see what was what.

There were a few TeePees and a few people in what some of might think was native dress, but as far as I could see, there was very little Native American Blood in the bodies of the vendors and demonstrators here. I saw a few people who might have some.

Three was lots of flint knapping and rocks for sale. A few made actually interesting, and legititimate looking, handcrafted native tools.

It was an interesting hour. Not sure what to think of it, but the tourists seemed to like it, as did all the white guys trying their hand at arrowmaking and gambling.

See a modest gallery of pictures at Stone Tool Letchworth.

Wednesday August 25th 2010

A leisurely walk in the woods...

Saturday at Forked Lake. Thin overcast thickening by the hour, telling me that it would be raining by overnight. Years of experience with Adirondack weather.

We were sitting around reading, and I got antsy so decided to take my new G10 into te woods. Brody the dog tagged along.

The woods along the south shore of Forked Lake are a very interesting mix of untrammeled wilderness and obvious visible sign of man. That is, everywhere you go you see fallen logs covered in moss disintegrating into the forest floor, but you also see plank bridges over wet spots on the trail between the campsites and plenty of evidence of old chainsaw work and people getting firewood.

See the gallery of the images I made at Woods of Forked Lake.

I really love these plank bridges on the trail.

This one at left shows how the moss grows on the wood in the dampness of the south shore, then is worn off by foot travel on the bridge. These bridges are put in place to aid in getting through wet spots or stream crossings. Sometimes the watercourse changes and the bridge will cover a dry area and a new wet area without a bridge occures a few yards away.

Brody loves these walks in the woods. So many smells, freedom to run. He trotted and sniffed and rooted, regularly looking back to see I was coming. We were both enjoying the woods.

The flat light of a cloudy day is the best time to make these images. No bright blown out sunny areas. The colors are rich and lush and the details show up beautifully.

A nice way to spend an hour while the campsite snoozed...

Wednesday August 25th 2010

Up at 6AM for a paddle and some pictures...

It was a mostly clear night after a stunningly beautiful day, camping at Campsite 75, Forked Lake.

Three was a thin mist at 6AM when I got out onto the water and some reflected colors off the gathering thin clouds.

The man from Campsite 8 was in his kayak letting bass nible his bait. I used him as a foreground against the misty backdrop.

View a selection of images from this morning paddle in my gallery: Morning Mist Forked Lake.

So, I hung out with the fisherman a bit, and then headed out into the lake proper and down towards the North Bay Inlet swamp.

Being not too misty, I was selective with the images. The colors had faded from when I started, so I paddled up to the new beaver dam about a half mile in, digging through thick water vegetation that dragged the boat.

The dam was about three feet high with tons of new branch work. I stepped into mud and clogged my water sandle pretty well. I intended to drag the boat over the dam and continue on in the flow above but the footing was tracherous and I knew that getting in and out of the boat above the dam was inviting a serious dump, so I bagged it. Took he image at left and slid back down the sticks to my waiting boat.

Next time, i'm going up, come hell or high water!

Tuesday August 24th 2010

Paddling with my wife...

We were camping at our beloved Forked Lake this past weekend.

It had been years since we had paddled up the lake and down the Raquette River, which empties into it. So, with Stacy watching the two girls, Kim and I took off in our Hornbecks to the river.

21 uears ago, it was on a paddle to this exact stretch of the river when we decided (actually she decided) that we would get engaged to be married.

It was a beautiful early evening after a classically beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky, and teh light was just starting to slant.

See a gallery of images at Raquette River Paddle.

I am getting very boring. Was working with my new Canon G10 and, as usual was fascinated by shoreline reflections and color values in the late light.

I have been playing with the levels (in Photoshop) a lot lately and applied an overall darkening to all these images, as I have been doing regularly. I just love the blacks and deep greens and the crispness that I get.

We padddled up the river after traversing about a mile of lakeshore to get to it. I paddled into backwater sloughs to look at beaver dams and swamp vegetation. I watched the light and the colors. Kim paddled serenely. It was quiet and very peaceful.

Saw these American Mergansers near the rapids that are as far as we could go. This new camera has a sharp lens and the extra pixels help when I have to crop in because I have such a short telephoto reach. This is good news!

Saw a loon family on the way back; teaching the babies to fish.

Friday August 6th 2010

A nice paddle with friends...

Kevin and mary Lou had heard us talk about Forked Lake so much that we decided we had to go on a paddle to show them.

They stay at Prospect point the sam eweek we do. We'd become friendly last year and rekindled this year too.

They have a tandem kayak so we loaded up the three boats, asked their daughter to babysit our daughter, and headed off to the West End of Forked Lake.

No rain, a day of broken mostly sunny skies alternating with heavier cloud cpver as systems raced through teh Adirondacks. Very common weather.

See what i took this take at the Forked Lake Paddle gallery.

We paddled the mile to the end of the lake, checking out the clearings where you can camp, and eventually entered the Inlet Stream.

This is where I like to take people who would like to get a real wilderness-like experience without really having to get way in the bush.

You can paddle a few miles up the inlet stream if you don't mind hauling over numerous beaver dams, twisty narrow watercourses and occasional shallow drags.

But, when you do make this relatively easy effort, your reward is to paddle in an area with essentially no sign or sound of man. It really feels, even to me, that you are 'out there'.

And, I've been deep into the bush a lot!

Friday August 6th 2010

Not enough for a gallery, but...

Up at Chateaugay Lake at the Trainer camp for the 4th and went out on a boatride to see the other side of the lake.

Towards sunset, didn't have to drive, and so was able to commune with the soft, and then intense colors of the sunset in the sky and as reflected in the water. Just to be out there...

Thursday August 5th 2010

A few weeks ago while on vacation...

So, we spent our week on Blue Mountain Lake. Decent weather, but only one good mist morning. I got out and made the best of it. I hope...

Same as last year, I had a real pea soup mist, except that it wasn't everywhere. At times I was floating in a clear area with strong views of the shoreline and mountains. Then, without warning or, seemingly, without transition, the fog would envelop me and I would be able to see only a few yards in any direction.

Many times I thought to give it up and head back to camp, thinking that the mist was all over and I'd only get a few images. But, I stayed out and ended up with three good hours.

View the Blue Mountain Morning gallery.

This was only the second time that I floated Blue Mountain Lake in the early morning (second time at all, as a matter of fact), and I am growing to like it pretty well. It is not as wild as my favorite lakes, and there is no swamp to explore. There are, however, a few families of loons dodging the motorboats and float plane (which took off noisily while I was in a particularly dense patch of fog), and that helps.

I wandered the bigger islands off the north shore and spent a lot of time in an area of shallow passages, enjoying the slanting, shrouded trees and nooks and crannies of inlets.

As the mist finally lifted and the sun was rising over the crest of the mountain, I could see gain the village on the southeast shore and the many camps lining the shoreline everywhere else.

While enveloped in the morning mist, you might be anywhere at all...

Thursday August 5th 2010

Did this a while ago...

It took me forever to get up north this year, that is for my morning paddles in the mist.

My last trip last fall was into the west end swamp of Forked lake, and I was stopped by ice accumulation well short of the first beaver dam. So, I resolved that this swamp would be my first trip this year. It was late June before I actually got it all together and had a free morning. Lucky for me the weather was perfect an I had a light, but satisfying mist.

I have loved this swamp since the first time I found it in 1976. I am sure people think I take the same images of it year after year, and that may be true, but every time I come here, the familiar sights look completely different. Different color, different light, different atmosphere. I WILL NOT stop photographing a place that I so love.

See a selection of images from these few hoyrs at my Sunrise Forked Lake gallery.

The light this morning was especially changeable.

It started soft and cool before sunrise, with stark cold calm water and myriad reflections.

Then, the sun came creeping up and a red/gold glow permeated everything.

Later, mist softened the intensity of the sun and cast a yellowy/orange/russet cast on the trees and reeds.

I paddled up past a number of dams and went until alders blocked the way and the stream was narrower than my boat. Loons and Great Blues marked my passage and I saw beaver sign everywhere, but they had gone to bed for the day.

Back out on the lake proper, I spoke with fishermen and walked the cleared spaces where we have camped these many years, empty now. Then I drove home, back to reality...

Thursday August 5th 2010

Went paddling on Bog River with Matt Holcomb...

I had set up a Facebook page for Hornbeck Boat Lovers (on a whim, completely unauthorized) and on of the people who 'Friended' it was Matt Holcomb from the DC area. It trned out he comes up to the Adirondacks fairly regularly and we hooked up for a paddle on Bog River to Lows Lake on Sunday July 18th.

We met in Long Lake at 6AM and were on the water 40 minutes later at Lows Lower dam.

Ahh, early morning light!

Early in the paddle, you pass through a narrow canyon-y area with wonderful rock walls at waters edge. The water was still, the air clean smelling and reflections were satisfying.

See the Bog River Paddle gallery.

We saw wildlife. A Great Blue Heron squawked away as we approached and we forced him on a few more times.

A pair of Loons was teaching their single baby to fish and the male displayed to us, rearing up out of the water, dancing on he surface and trilling to get our attention. I didn't have my camera out and wouldn't have been close enough to get a decent image anyway; one of the few negatives when shooting with a camera like the G9.

We also saw a Whitetail Doe and a single Fawn following the shoreline in a cove. I have gotten much better pictures of deer in the past, again when I had a strong telephoto. I did get this image and a few other OK ones that are in the gallery.

After just about ten miled of paddling, we got to the extreme easter end of Lows Lake and stopped on a sandy point to rest and reconnoiter.

It was a beautiful spot and we were tempted to head out onto the lake, but it was my family vacation week and I had left my girls back at camp and felt that spending a half a day away on our second day was enough. I knew they wanted me with them.

So, we got on our Hornbecks, somewhat sadly, and turned back east. One short carry at the upper dam, and about ten more miles back out and we were off the water around noon after a nice easy 20 mile round trip paddle.

Matt was a terrific companion and I hope to meet up with him again for more adventures.

Being back with my girls was wonderful, though, so all was well.

Wednesday August 4th, 2010

Spent yesterday making a classic paddle...

I enrolled in a Paddle making class at the Adirondack Museum in Blue Mountain Lake, Adirondacks. Yesterday was the day!

They are held every Tuesday this summer and there are only 3 weeks left if you are interested. I can send you the info.

You can choose to make a traditional single blade (canoeing) or double blade (kayaking) paddle and cherry wood is used as opposed to other woods or fiberglass or whatever.

Both types of paddle 'blanks' are at right, the singles standing iup and the doubles on the table.

I made a modest photo shoot of the process and put it in the Paddle Workshop gallery.

At left is our instructor Caleb Davis. He lives and works in Long Lake, NY, just eleven miles north of Blue Mountain Lake.

Great teacher, personable, informative and exceedingly patient. There were nine of us in the workshop (maximum was supposed to be eight!) and most had no experience in paddle making or even working with wood working tools.

Tools! No power tools are used. We used hand tools, most of which can be purchased anywhere.

Caleb set up nine workstations and passed out nine complete sets of tools: Block Plane, Spoke Shave, Curved and Straight Micro Planes (these are really like cheese graters and shave off the wood), Wood Rasp, Paint Scraper (for semi-fine finishing), Steel (fine scraping) and two Clamps. Oh, and a Sharpie! Finally, everyone chose a 'Blank'.

We clamped our blanks to the work table extensions, and started to learn how to use the tools.

I am one of these people who has absolutely NO natural talent or feel for physical endeavors. Been this way all my life. Wish it were different, but everything is a steep learning curve when it comes to my working with tools and materials. Always a struggle to get over the hump!

Caleb was so patient and good at demostrating and explaining that I was able to start shaping my paddle with only limited forays into spicy language and increased heart rate. Ask my wife, who has witnessed my struggles with tool using more often than anyone should ever have to.

We started with the Block Plane, you've all seen one, and shaved away at the surface of our paddle blades. Paddles tightly clamped so they don't wiggle more than a trapped mouse and Caleb constantly alternating between entreaties of 'muscle, rip that wood away', and 'light hands, now, light hands'. If you've done anything like this, you know what he was saying and why. I didn't.

After beginning with the Block Plane, he then taught us the Spoke Shave, a better tool for aggressive rounding of Paddle Edges. I had a bitch of a time with that one until he showed me how to angle the blade and how to read the grain direction of the wood. Then I got the idea and made better progress, and calmed down a bit. Caleb was as amazed as I was to find that, on my blank, the grain went in all directions and was near impossible to read. Even he made interesting gouges and digs in my beautiful paddle surface. I had an amused audience for a while there. Sigh!

Speaking of audiences, it turned out that we were doing this in the outdoor pavillion, next to the trout pond, and all day long we had a throng of onlookers who interrupted us with questions and occasional incredibly stupid statements. It is fascinating how people who know nothing feel compelled to tell you how things should be done. Caleb continued being patient.

For finer work, we used the cheese grater Micro Planes and then for finest work, we used a light wood rasp, the Paint Scraper (after sharpening them on a file) and then these steel pieces that he said could be bought in any ski shop that sells ski wax.

Each of our blanks had a slit cut into where the end of the paddle would be. Into these ends, after we were done planing our blades, Caleb inserted a 'Spline', which is a piece of wood inserted into the slit to strengthen the end of the blade. He stuck the splines in his mouth and wetted them down well, and then, with Gorilla Glue, glued them in place and secured them with venerable duct tape (a million uses!). I got two splines, double blade, you see. When I sniff the ends of my paddle, I can still smell his breath (only kidding!!!).

Last week my G9 died so I was using my wife's simple point and shoot to make these images. Needless to say I took the wrong battery and ran out of power shortly after lunch, so the documentary stopped well before I started smoothing my shaft. Be nice, now, you know what I mean.

Anyway, I took home a damn good looking traditional style double bladed paddle. I have to sand it and varnish it and will photograph it when I am done. Then, I fully intend to use it in my Hornbeck.

Wednesday July 28th, 2010

Been a while...

Spent last week at Prospect Point Cottages on Blue Mountain Lake in the Adirondaks.

One of my jaunts was a lightning fast hike into Tirrell Pond via the south approach on the Northville Placid Trail, just south of Blue Mountain Lake Village.

I had three hours to kill. I drove to the trail head near Lake Durant and hiked the 3.3 miles to the southern tip of Tirrel Pond in an hour and ten minutes.

I took a few pictures of the pond and started back after a ten minute respite. Most of the pictures in the gallery I took on the way out, quick studies of the trail and the interesting boardwalks over wet spots. With a few exceptions, this trail is sweet! Back at the cabin by 4:30, in time for supper! Oh, yeah. my trusty G9 died the next day.

Images can be viewed in my Tirrell Pond Hike Gallery.

Wednesday April 28th, 2010

I am a state worker, sort of...

This morning's Times Union featured an article focusing on Governor Patterson's proposal to furlough 100,000 state workers one day a week until the budget is hammered out.

Read the article at: http://www.timesunion.com/AspStories/story.asp?storyID=925757.

The gist seems to be that most state workers will face a forced day off without pay per week. You won't be able to use your accruals but have to actually go without pay. MCS workers (these are teh administrators) will be exempt (of course!) as will be some other workers prioviding essential services.

I have multiple interrelated thoughts on this.

First, if this is a swipe at the legistature for not getting the budget done on time, then shame on everybody involved for punishing unionized state workers for that stupidity and incompetence. Every year our elected leaders can't seem to get the budget done anywhere near on time. I can't blame this on partisanship completely because it has been going on for years. Bad habit! Believe me when I say our elected leaders of both parties DO NOT CARE EVEN ONE LITTLE BIT about their constituents (you an I). They do what is necessary to placate us so we will re-elect them, that's it. This is completely our fault! We keep re-electing them. Sure, we all think they are jerks, except for our own assemblyperson or Senator, who is OK, right?

Second, this is partly necessary because our unions (I am a UUP member) are being obstinate about not giving back the raises that Patterson stupidly agreed to last year. Personally, I am all for giving up my raise if it will help the state weather this crisis without layoffs or these furloughs. The few if my co workers that I have discussed this with mostly agree, except those that need the extra money. The Union is doing us a serious disservice here by not discussing it at all. We are biting off our noses to spite our faces.

Third, I find it especially annoying that the big wig managers won't be affected. I would argue that those are the ones who could most easily afford it. But, instead, the $30K/year grunt (or $40K, or $60K, whatever) has to take what amounts to a 20% pay cut whule the best paid do not.

Fourth, if 100,000 state employees are not providing 'essential services', why are we paying them, anyway? For fun? Or, is there essential, and then really essential? Is what I do essential? I provide education and training to help people do their jobs efficiently; should I go?

I better shut up, huh?

Friday April 23rd, 2010

Seen in Pittsburgh...

Visit my new Image Gallery: Pittsburgh Details for more images like these.

At right is a painting on a building wall I found in Homestead, an old community just east of Pittsburgh's Southside Flats neighborhood, along the Monongahela River.

Like everything else around here, Homestead grew up as a steel town, then suffered as the mills closed down. I was struck by the large amount of brightly pained walls, interspersed with shuttered buildings and other evidence of past glory and recent downturn.

Also included in my Pittsburgh Seen gallery are similar images found in other Pirttsburgh Neighborhoods that I explored, including Mt Oliver, a neighborhood up a steep hill south of Southside Flats, the North Side, on the northern shore of the Allegheny River, and nearby Deutchsland (not sure of this spelling).

Great imagery, pride in the hometown, and, possibly, a bit of desperation to show a tough presence in a positive light.

We spent quite a bit of time in an area called the Strip.

This is an area of produce and meat markets with many restaurants and nice shops, all along a mile or so of otherwise industrial and warehouse area.

On Saturday mornings, it is crowded with shoppers exploring the wares of the vendors who have set up along the sidewalks. Unique items, great food being cooked, shysters, hustlers and excellent, honest vendors.

My favorite was this man, at left, selling hats and other textiles similar to what you see in the picture. he was friendly and not at all pushy, and had his young son helping him (pictured in an image in the Pittsburgh Details gallery.

Hats were $8 each, 2 for $15, and my wife and I each bought one. Great top knots that hung down. Warm as anything I ever put on my head.

In the Northside, up near Randyland, amongst all the other sumptuous photographic subjects, I found this image at right.

I was photographing a garage door (see it in the gallery) and when finished, continued down the street.

Coming back, I looked again at the door, wondering if I had captured what I had at first seen. I often don't get what I am really looking for the first time around.

On second look, I saw the color of the wood that framed the garage door. Interesting green and texture. I came closer and saw the knots in the wood and then, suddenly, the mantis face popped out.

What a find, that was free only for the looking, looking closely, spending a few minutes peering to see what was there under the facade of regular everyday wood.

This is the kind of photography that captures my soul. Documenting what is really there, rather than only what looks like is there.

Sometimes I can even do it...

Friday April 23rd, 2010

More brick...

This is getting bad.

I am obsessed with old brick. I make images of it in the old cities around my home, a selection in my gallery: Old Brick. I searched out bricks in Washington DC and here again in Pittsburgh.

Brick is everywhere. When will it stop? When will it STOP!!??

At right is a juxtaposition of some old brick and newer brick with recent mortaring found in teh Northside of Pittsburgh.

See many more images of Old Brick in Pittsburgh in my gallery: Pittsburgh Brick. See the brick images from DC in my gallery: DC Brick.

At left is a real find. In the Northside of Pittsburgh is an old neighborhood called Deutchsland (sp?). It is a pretty rough area with a bunch of guys hanging around that may or may not have been drug dealers/gang members. Run down buildings, jazzed up cars, jock clothes and bling.

But, one of the streets, for more than two blocks, was still all brick with old trolley rails still intact. I made numerous images, this one at left and others in my Pittsburgh Brick and also im my Pittsburgh Streets Galleries.

I can't tell you how much I love these old cities. Yes, many are experiencing hard times and the neighborhoods are in tough shape. But, photographically, they are rich in history, color and texture. You can see and feel the traditional city neighborhood life. Living where you worked, trading near your home. Walking the streets and knowing everyone around.

Not sure our suburbs are the right alternative...

Thursday April 22nd, 2010

Exploring Pittsburgh Streets...

After Visiting Washington DC, we headed off to Pittsburgh. Neither Kim or I had ever been there but her former right hand Denise had recently moved there and we were intent on visiting. Of course I was intent on making photographs. Of course!

Denise and Paul took us to some great old neighborhoods. One was a fairly famous area called Randyland. It was featured on the Today Show back in December and I was very interested to see it. A working class man bought some old homes in a tired neighborhood and painted them gaudily. he started a community garden, bought old whiskey barrels as planters and passed them out to his neighbors.

One of his buildings is shown at right. See others and a number of other Pittsburgh Neighborhood street scenes in my gallery Pittsburgh Streets.

We visited a ton of neighborhoods, including Southside Flats, Mt Oliver and Allentown (not "The" Allentown, another one). We visited the Northside Randyland area, mentioned above, and stopped as we drove through Deutchsland. Old neighborhoods, a lot of decay, but a lot of rehab going on.

Lastly, we visited a great area called the Strip. It is where the produce and meat markets are and a cool retail area has grown up, busy as hell on Saturdays.

At left is a back alley on the Strip. Looks completely industrial, huh? Well, we pulled the car up to the side of the alley just this side of this scene. There turned out to be a row of 4 or 5 houses and every door opened simoultaneously and a woman peered out from behind every door, staring at us with frank curiosity. One said something along the lines of, "Better not park there, honey, or 'they' might call the Po-Lice.

One asked, "Who are You"? I told her I was just a crazy tourist. She laughed and said, "OK".

Friday April 16th, 2010

Visiting Georgetown...

My girsl were mostly shopping, so I made pictures, as usual.

Georgetown is very Colonial-feeling. Lots of brick, 18th century buildings (the Stone House you will see in my gallery is from 1765), and lots of rehab going on. Very fancy stores, tons of great restaurants.

The first time we went was to grab dinner; we ended up eating Vietnamese. Our last day, Jenna asked to go shopping in Georgetown rather than visiting the Aquarium or National Zoo, so I made images while they shopped.

Visit my DC Georgetown Gallery.

Our second foray into Georgetown was to meet the Crandalls for dinner.

We decided on the Old Glory BBQ which turned out to be a real joint, the kind I love. Old wood, not all updated, yada, yadda, yadda...

Food was tasty but, as usual, whenever you see ribs described as 'Fall off the Bone Tender', you can rest assured that they will be tough and the meat attached to the bone as if it will never let go... Typical, whatever you see advertised as what is offered is usually the opposite of what you will get.

While waiting for our table, I watched a man a few doors up asking for spare change. I borrowed $3 because I didn't have small bills (Thanks Todd!!), asked him for the picture at left and tossed the money into his cup. It was near dark so I used flash, which I normally hate to do, because I needed the clarity.

Absolutely great face.

Friday April 16th, 2010

Details of DC...

I wandering the Washington DC neighborhoods, I was struck by the richness of exquisite details; grafitti, paintings, old doors, metal...all kinds of stuff.

So, in addition to regular street scenes and all my lovely old brick, I made images of these details seen.

The daisy at right, painted on a flat black wall accented by steel grating, was right behind a bus stop not far from Chinatown.

Visit mt DC Seen gallery, or to browse through everything from this trip, visit my Washington DC/Pittsburgh page for links to all the galleries.

Out just after sunrise one morning, while my girls rested up, I came across an old building in a back, way back alley. I explored; the building door was wide open.

The hand painted words at left warned of decay and debris, and rose out of a pit at ankle level. Who wrote it, and why, and how did it come to be so difficult to see?

It was this area where I made images of the doorway with old gloves, the folding chair flattened in the dust and pieces of old metal embedded in brick.

I sopent a half hour in this back alley, easily, totally thoughtless of the fact that I had over $400 in my wallet and would have been a prime and profitable mugging victim in this solitary, hidden area.

Shoot! Now my wife will know...

Thursday April 15th. 2010

Finding old brick...

I can't explain my attraction to old brick.

It has color and texture and age and strength, and...

I spent a number of weeks last year this time searching out old brick around home, in Albany, Troy, Schenectady, Cohoes and Watervliet.

Our area, with the old factories, has a tons of it, although much less than a mere 15 years ago, due to our loss of treasured historical buildings to fire and decay.

Washington DC and Pittsburgh turned out to have a lot of brick, too.

So, in my explorations, I stopped and photographed brick regularly on this trip. Thank you, patient wife and daughter.

Above is a small detail of a brick wall on an old tenement in the Chinatown area of DC, very near our hotel.

At left is a cobblestone (brick!) section of alley in a run down area not far from where we were staying.

Visit my gallery of DC brick, and while you are at it, visit last year's gallery of Old Brick from our home area near Albany.

Stare at the brick... become entranced... alluring brick...

Thursday April 15th, 2010

On the streets of DC....

I take pictures wherever I go, pretty much.

Rarely do I make standard tourist images, and when I am in a city, I am drawn to street life, scenes and details of older, decaying areas, and also of the actual people that you see everywhere you go.

Sometimes I make images while walking with my wife and daughter. They have learned that I am easily distracted and often lagging behind them, stopping to compose and image while they walk ahead, me not now following.

This man, on the right, was playing his Saxophone in a shady corner, hoping for contributions to his hat, which was on the sidewalk at his feet. I asked permission to photograph, quickly made two images in the verylow light, handheld, my camera increasing the ISO, adding grain, then made my modest contribution in appreciation.

Visit my Portfolio of Street Scenes in Washington DC.

I have also made an entire series of these portfolios of this trip, which you can access from the DC Pittsburgh page.

Mostly, I sneak away when there is a lull in our touristy pursuits. When my women want to shop, I excuse myself and wander back alleys and side streets. When they sleep in, I get out after sunrise to see what I can see.

They are so very patient with me, mostly.

I admit that I am drawn to the wrong side of the tracks. I love the ghetto, warehouse districts and run down neighborhoods, immersed in character.

I love the weird details I find. Strange juxtapositions. Decaying buildings and infrastructure. Grafitti and signs. Homeless people and street musicians and vendors.

In DC, there was a lot of this, and there was constant evidence of rebuilding and repairing, investors buying and refurbishing so as to rent and sell at a profit.

I am not against renovation. I am all for repairing and cleaning up an area.

That said, I wander these areas with mixed feelings, documenting the squalor, enjoying the disrepair.

They might be all gone someday, maybe soon.

Yeah...

Wednesday April 14th, 2010

Visiting Memorials in Washington DC...

Spring break for the kid, so we decided to take a trip to Washington DC to see the sights.

We were able to schedule a White House Tour and Capitol Tour and, other than having to wait in long lines to get in at our reserved time (???) the tours were fairly interesting, other than the fact that they pretty much rushed us through.

We actually caught it at peak Cherry Blossom time. There are hundreds of Cherry Trees planted around the perimeter of the Tidal Basin, just south of the Washington Monument. I have to say they were quite beautiful, though picture taking was hard because of the huge crowds of people everywhere and the fences and emergency barriers and all that...

See a gallery of my Washington DC Monuments here.

Interestingly, we were in Washington for an absolutely beautiful weekend. It was sunny and hot (one day got up to 93 degrees).

I noticed something very interesting, and obvious, while wandering the National Mall both Saturday afternoon, and, especially, Sunday. Every garbage can was completely overflowing with all kinds of trash. In my judgemental first reaction, I thought: what jerks we all are, refusing to properly dispose of our trash, littering everywhere we go.

Then, I realized that there was little trash scattered everywhere, it was all concentrated and clearly falling ourt of these overflowing trash bins. It was then clear that people were trying to dispose of trash properly, but the trash bins weren't being emptied. Monday, they were finally emptied, so clearly, the Park Service, which administers this area, didn't pick up trash on weekends, which are, naturally, the busiest times. Jaded as I am, it seems clear to me that this is one of those 'obvious' cuts in service that atually save very little taxpayer money.

Sigh!

On a more positive note, I was very impressed by two memorials that I visited, seeing them both during the day and also at night.

First was the Korean War Memorial.

Now, I know how impressive the Lincoln, Jefferson and Washington Memorials are, and they are stunning, but these newer memorials are so striking and powerful that they can bring tears.

At the Korean, there is a wall with etched faces, a small reflecting pool with plaques describing numbers of killed, wounded, lost etc. There are also the statues of soldiers, walking on patrol; these were so powerful that I found my self staring at them, imagining what the depicted soldiers suffered.

My night visit was eerie, somber, frightening, and intense.

The Viet Nam Memorial, however is far and away the most powerful for me. It is a sunken, angled wall, etched with each of theh roughly 54,000 names of the soldiers Killed or Missing in Action from that totally asinine war. Simple, effective, and heartbreaking.

I had visited it around 30 years ago, shortly after it was created amongst much controversy (it was so different that many constituencies decried it as disprespectful, after all it wasn't a real MONUMENT!).

It was strong then, but now it had me near paralyzed with grief.

This was something I grew up with directly. I knew some guys, friends of my older brother, who died there. I was young when their lives were wasted, and I have since realized that names I thought should be there weren't because I had mixed things up, and names I thought shouldn't be there, were.

I've got tears running down my face as I write this now. Damn it.

Monday January 22nd, 2010

Presidents Weekend in Lake Placid...

Jenna thought the High Peaks Resort was very fancy and couldn't believe that we would stay there, it was so nice. Are we raising her properly, or what??

Friday we hiked up Mt Jo in our snowshoes. We hit a stunning day. Calm, sunny and 13 degrees when we started; beautiful hiking weather.

At right are my two girls on the summit, with Mt Marcy right over Jenna's head and Colden with it's great slides to the right of Marcy.

At far right, you can just see the lower elevations of the McIntyre range. Pictures are at my gallery, Adirondacks Lake Placid February 2010.

There wasn't much snow at all, possibly the least I've ever seen this time of year. The trail was packed solid, but the shoes came in handy beacuse there were some tricky icy spots.

In fact, ice was the order of the day. It flowed over the many rock outcroppings, as in the image at left; evidence of some warm days that melted away our snow.

At one spot, we hiked up a considerable section of frozen stream with a river of ice flows, and our cramponed snow shoes came in handy, big time, although my peanut little girl couldn't always stamp hard enough to dig in.

The summit was beautiful and the hike down sweet. We reconnoitered at the hiker building, and Jenna got a snack, of course!

Later that day, back in Lake Placid, my two girls braved the Mirror Lake Toboggan Run.

I toted the toboggan up the wooden stair-ladder to the top. There were signs everywhere warning that people with heart issues (like me!) shouldn't make the run.

I had done it years ago, but got to the top this time, looked down (way, way down) the icy run, and the ice of Mirror Lake in the distance, and decided that somebody should be available to take pictures, namely, me!

I had all I could do to trudge back down the stair ladder.

My girls ran it four times. I let them carry the toboggan back up the other three times so I could be in picture taking position.

Good of me, huh? The least I could do.

Of course we attended the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival parade on Saturday.

I can't say enough how much fun it was. Totally different from parades you might normally watch. It was homespun, for sure, creative, humerous, eclectic.

I was as facinated with the spectators as I was with the floats.

We met Jenna's friend, Maddy there (and her family, of course) and had a great time. Cold, but great!

We visited the Ice Castle, worth the trip by itself, then had a great early dinner at the Casa Del Sole mexican restaurant right in Saranac.

Of course we sat at the outside bar having a cold one while we waited for our table. One of those things that you just have to do. They did have heaters, sort of...

We had had a great time in the hotel, and had dinner at the Great Adirondack Steak and Seafood Restaurant Friday night. One of our favorites. I had a couple of pints of their craft brewed beers and Jenna had root beer brewed on the premises.

We worked out in the hotel fitness room, visited the in house restaurant Dancing Bears for a dinner and breakfast all three mornings. We sat by the fire a lot and even swam in the hotel pool. We weren't feeling quite expansive enough to visit the hotel spa for massages.

Kim and Jenna decided to skate on the 1980 Olympic Speed Skating Oval. They went around four or five times. It was cloudy and turning a bit colder so they were happy to quit.

We headed over to Tupper Lake, stopping for a quick slice of Pizza in Saranac, to pick up Jenna's friend, Maddy, then took the Adirondack trail down through our summer haunts of Long lake, Bluie Mountain Lake and all on the way home.

Nice drive, great weekend!

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

A weekend respite up north...

Kim and I headed up north this past weekend. Stayed at Prospect Point Cottages in Blue Mountain Lake Friday and Saturday nights.

They made very nice brunches, we brought a bottle of 'Wow' wine (and drank it!) and sat by a snapping fire quite a bit.

Beautiful winter weather, my best friend and mate with me...what could be better. Well, our daughter was with grandma; she would have been bored out of her skull, so even though we missed her, all was well.

View a selection of images in my new gallery: Adirondacks January 2010.

We tried out our new snowshoes and they were great. Above is Kim on Rock Lake (Blue Mountain in the background) on Sunday, at left I'm taking a break on the Rock Lake Trail, also on Sunday.

Saturday after breakfast (brunch!!!), we drove to the Forked Lake road near Long Lake and sallied to the trailhead for Upper Sargeant Pond.

Not a lot of snow this year, probably not much more than a foot on the ground in the woods. The trail was well packed, easy walking with the shoes, and the woods were absolutely beautiful.

1.3 miles into Sargeant Pond, pretty much flat with a few ups and downs, very pleasant walking. We walked out onto the frozen lake and it was almost hot out there. Full blazing sun in a crystal clear blue sky, radiant heat reflecting from the snowpack on the lake.

No wind at all.

We followed tracks of a pack of four wolves down the shoreline and found a stashed canoe. Left it there, of course.

After our hike back out, we drive over to the Forked Lake Campsite road, which is supposed to be unplowed in winter and, thus, impassable, but it was so packed down by snowmibile tracks that we drove right in the mile and a half to the landing. Gotta love 4 wheel drive!

It was a snowmobile mecca, there. We counted 34 machines, dodging open water and racing around the lake.

Beautiful reflections in the open water, like the one at right.

We followed the shoreline out to Campsite 75, where we camp most years, to see it buried in the snow, which it was.

It was also covered with snowmobile tracks, as the machines came right up the campsite beach, roared through right where we usually set up our tent, and plowed through the rear of the campsite back to the lakeshore.

Of course we stopped at Buttermilk Falls; it was roaring then drove into Long Lake Village and stopped at the Adirondack Hotel and got distracted by wine and beer and wings and Adirondack Fries for a few hours.

Next morning, again after brunch, we checked out and drove south to the Rock Lake trailhead and followed the beaten path to the lake a half mile in.

Colder and windier and starting to cloud up, it was still a pleasant walk out on to the lake and across to the remote campsites on the other side, Blue Mountain smiling down on us all the while.

All weekend, I was drawn to the forest twigs poking out of the smooth snow, casting shadows.

I took many images like the one at left.

It was a great weekend!

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

Been a while...

I haven't taken a picture since the last set described in the previous post, way back in December, a long time for me.

Haven't been writing, either, except to edit my novel, so that I can re-submit it to the agent.

But, I ran into an old pal on the way to my office this morning, and we talked about some of the people we both knew from Cohoes that he is in touch with. The conversation got me thinking about those high school days and all the crazy stuff we did.

If you are interested in reading about how stupid I was back then, I cover it in two chapters, 6 & 7, of my memoir: Going to Church in the Strawberry Patch. I just re-read some of it myself and, phew! What a dummy! Chapter 6 and Chapter 7. Days of Yore.

I'd enjoy hearing any comments!

Monday December 28, 2009

A Sunday Ride to Lake Placid & Keene Valley...

Kim needed a Windproof/Waterproof Outer Shell jacket for our planned Winter Activities. We couldn't find what she wanted locally. I had gotten mine last year at Eastern Mountain Sports (EMS) in Lake Placid, and so we decided we would take a day trip north to see what we could find.

We found a great one at The Mountaineer in Keene Valley, by the way! One of our favorite stores, it has high-end technical gear that will set you back some serious cash, but is the best you can buy. EMS had the same jacketI have, but not in a women's cut, so we went back to the Mountaineer.

Of course, I took pictures between stops. It was a balmy day, well into the thirties. The drive up was rainy and misty but it was clearing by noon and there was standing water everywhere. The images are in my gallery: Ausable Cascade December 27 2009.

Above is one of many images I made of reflections in standing water on top pf ice (there's a mouthful!) on The Ausable River, right behind The Mountaineer. I slushed through foot deep wet snow to the riverbank and stood in one spot, shooting in all directions for about fifteen minutes, while my wife waited patiently.

After shopping and lunch in Lake Placid, we took a detour down Adirondack Loj Road and drank in the sun-shiny view of the Marcy/Colden/Algonquin massif trio that dominates the skyline.

We drove down to where the road crosses the infant Chubb River and parked. I slopped down the embankment under the bridge and spent some time making images there, including the one at left.

Again, Kim waited patiently.

After the pause at the Chubb, we drove back out to Route 73 and cruised back towards Keene, passing the Cascade Peak trailhead and then traversed the pass along the Cascade Lakes.

Stopped at the low end of Lower Cascade Lake and made a few quick images of the ice and the far shore. There were lots of ice climbers around, enjoying the balmy weather.

Got back to the Mountaineer, picked up Kim's new jacket.

Then, importantly, we drove back 5 miles to the Stewarts in Keene for extra thick chocolate shakes. Contraband!

Drove the almost 3 hours home in time for me to come in for a volunteer overnight shift at UAlbany, taking temperature measurements.

Don't ask!

Wednesday December 16th, 2009

Behemoth Microsoft does it again...

Just heard the not-unexpected news that our beloved Microsoft will cease support of the Windows XP operating system this coming July 2010. Read more at Information Week. Here are some thoughts:

As is typical, Microsoft releases software packages well before they are 'ready for prime time', so to speak. No matter what the software is or is supposed to do, it is always filled with bugs and holes, and I mean ALWAYS! Then, users who are foolish to run out and buy the product, usually in upgrade form, rise to the task of dealing with the clunky, problematic software, reporting back to Microsoft (at the user's cost, of course) all the hang-ups and freezes and hackings and everything else that is a part of using Microsoft products. Then, Microsoft, over the course of a year or so, releases updates and service packs that fix some of these problems (but NEVER ALL) and by two years out, you have a product that, at least in some ways, does what it is supposed to do. By that time, of course, they are already releasing a new version, at new cost, and knowledgeable computer geeks the world over cringe yet again. Hand in hand with this is Microsoft's insistance that we upgrade, at our cost, to the new version as it comes out.

Interestingly, Microsoft periodically releases products that are so bad, so unusable, and unworkable, that the user population at large simply rejects it, in time. This happened 10 years ago with Windows Millenium, which replaced Windows 95. Even stalwart Microsoft apologists (and they are legion), hated that OS, complained bitterly about it, and many large institutions insisted on refusing to use it at all. Shortly thereafter, Microsoft released Windows XP (AKA Windows 2002) and, although it wasn't great, it had only the usual problems, which were mostly, eventually, remedied with service packs. By the time you were running Windows XP with Service Pack 2, you had a pretty stable and usable PC.

This has happened again recently. Microsoft, with much ballyhoo, released Windows Vista (in the process, as usual, making Windows look and attempt to work more like the Macintosh operating system). They wanted us to abandon XP and upgrade to this new saviour of our computing lives. XP was no longer offered on new PC's and the bandwagon was revved up. However, system managers the world over recognized a Millenium level gremlin as soon as it was released and, in short order, Microsoft was forced to reverse itself, and continued to make XP available and supported. At my workplace, we made the quiet decision to continue installing XP on new PC's and ignored Vista. Vista was soon discontinued.

Now, we have Windows 7, the new (yet again) saviour of our computing world, jam-packed with 'to die for' features and benefiting from a strong advertising rush. I haven't played with it yet, it is so new. Based on past experience, I want to let it fester out there for at least a year, so as to see if it is a typically bad OS or a spectacularly bad OS. It will be one or the other. And, as is usual, Microsoft is darkly hinting that we better embrace this new system (at our cost of course) and they won't continue to support the old XP system.

I wouldn't worry about all this. Same old, same old. By the time summer comes around, we'll know just how bad this all will be, and so will the important institutional and business system managers. If it is spectacularly bad, somehow Microsoft will suddenly back down and say Oops! If it is only typically bad, there will be service packs galore and the product might be working acceptably, that is if your standards aren't too high. There will be some compromise, I am sure. There always is, after the threat!

Thoughts on the holidays...

I'm a grinch, a scrooge, a bah humbug sayer!

OK, so maybe a lot of it is an act. But, I really do not enjoy the Christmas (Holiday) season the way many people claim they do. The holiday cheer, and the barrage of insipid, repetitive Christmas songs... If I hear Andy Williams sing 'Its the Most Wonderful Time of The Year' again, I think I might puke. I could write some new lyrics fo rthat song.

We are all caught up in this totally manufactured need to buy gifts, spend money. We are bombarded by information from the media telling us to the detail how bad or how good Black Friday was, and how well or bad merchants are doing in general this month. The news can get gloomy, saying that the economy is in bad shape because we are spending, in aggregate, 7% less than we did last year and the retailers are hurting, because, after all, they make most of their profits for the year during this season. And, that's a problem for us, how???

We are trained to measure our happiness according to the number and quality of our possessions. If the kid doesn't have a North Face brand jacket, he or she isn't cool. $100 to $150 for a fleece jacket because of a brand name? When the one in Target is every bit as good, quality-wise, and is less than a third the price? PUHLEEZE! I know, it's been this way since advertising started, but, indeed, it gets worse every year.

My daughter, bless her heart, is buying gifts this year with her own money. She got something for her Paternal Birth Grandmother, Monique, who she loves dearly. She got something for her mother, and we will shop tonight for something for her baby half sister. She has a few friends that she wants to buy for. I am counseling her to keep it minimal; a token small gift is fine, no need to spend al lher allowance on stuff. That said, one friend has told her that she wants tio buy her, as a Christmas gift, a pair of new Converse sneakers, because her current pair is no longer pristine. These things cost more than $30, even on sale. This friend's parents seem, based on my experience, to be considerably more willing to spend money than we are. My daughter is understandably worried about spending $5 on a gift for this friend when the friend may spend $40 on her. These kids are 10 years old. They are way to young to be entering in the Christmas Gift Accelleration Mode, where everyone has to get better and better gifts to keep up.

We know people. cash strapped to the max, who have filled their credit cards to bursting with gifts to outdo last year; they'll spend 2010 paying off these balances in time for next year, IF THEY'RE LUCKY!

Then, there are those who have very little money and no credit. Two years ago, when I first had my little brother (BIG BROTHERS, BIG SISTERS), I bought him a gift and was able to get a few donated things via BBBS (donated by the local Target Store); a game or two and a few household items. I delivered them to their crummy apartment a few days before Christmas and my little's mother (husband in jail, no job at the time, no furnishings in a rat infested apartment, barely fighting off despair) hugged me and cried, saying that if it wasn't for me, they would have had NOTHING for Christmas. NOTHING! And, here we are, spending godawful amounts on flat screen TV's and Ipods and phones, and pricey designer clothes for kids who will outgrow them in 5 months. At least my Little's family is in better shape this year. Dad is home, Mom and Dad are both working, new apartment, furniture...

OK, enough! I do go on, sometimes. But, dammit, this is all wrong!

Wednesday December 9th, 2009

Our leaders are fiddling...

I think about this stuff a lot. Got my Newsweek yesterday and was caught up by an unusually frank article on global warming, Power Failure, and our politician's handling of it, as it were.

I don't only blame our politicians, even though I fervently believe that it is our leader's responsibility to surround themselves with knowledgeable people who synthesize information for them so that they can make responsible decisions and tell us what we need to know. I also blame us. All of us, including myself and everyone I know.

We are all intelligent enough to know that we are living irresponsibly, using up fossil fuels that are limited in supply. Burning them causes pollution. They will be used up someday and be gone permanently. We know this. We all, every one of us, know this. Yet, we all have our heads in the sand, thinking, when we do at all, that soon our leaders will come up with a plan that will be painless and allow us to continue living our lifestyle while still being 'green'.

We latch on to small victories, like our pitiful attempts to recycle and our increasing use of 'fuel efficient' vehicles. Energy efficient windows, buying local food, gardening in the summer months. We don't search for more because we are all busy with the minutiae of our daily lives. OK, but we really don't want to think about it. It's sort of like being a Christian. Christ said, very clearly and authoritively, that to be true believers, we had to give away ALL our worldly goods and follow him. To be a true green person, we would have to give up all our powered toys and tools, like the snow blower I used this morning to clear my driveway so that I wouldn't have to shovel it by hand and the car I drove into work with, so that I wouldn't have to take the bus, which I could do, at some inconvenience.

I don't want to change or work harder, or live a simpler life. Probably neither do any of you reading this. It's different, scary, less opulent. Unknown. We continue to limit our thinking to short term. We just press on, consuming, wasting, using up large amounts of the world's resources to continue a lifestyle that 70% of the world's population will never attain.

Doing little things is something, I guess, but it is mostly a whitewash, like what our politicians are described as doing in this compelling article.

It pisses me off, but...

I am still waiting for someone to give me a painless fix.

I'm fiddling, too.....

Monday December 7th, 2009

First Snow, 2009...

We got about 2-3 inches this past Saturday. It snowed pretty much from around noon to past 9PM, but the small amount is all we got.

I had to run to the store Saturday afternoon and got distracted, as usual, by the beauty of new fallen snow. Instead of keeping my nose to the grindstone and concentrating on my chores, I drove on down Orchard Street near my house to an area of fields close by. Wet snow was falling and it was mysterious looking and beautiful. My lens kept ketting wet but I was able to keep drying it. That said, if you look close at some of these images, you can see blurry areas that indicate water droplets.

I continued on to Five Rivers, a State Preserve nearby and drove down to the pond. I was fascinated by cattails on shore becoming encrusted with snow, and was able to capture the streakiness of the snow as it fell with the dark background. The bridge at the pond was beautiful, too, and I followed the boardwalk a ways.

Being that I was in sweats and sneakers and is was a wet slushy snow, I was getting a tad damp. Then, I realized that my wife would be wondering what became of me, what with shaky driving conditions and the fact that I was only supposed to be gone a few minutes. I am such a child, sometimes.

So, I went home...

See the whole gallery at First Snow December 2009.

Tuesday, December 1st, 2009

It's December already....

I'm hoping to get one more Adirondack paddle in, possibly this weekend. I'll attempt to get up Saturday or Sunday morning and drive north, see if any of the lakes are still open. Since we've been warmer than usual, I am guessing I should find open water. A paddle in December! I have to do it, you know, because it's there!

Holidays, holidays, holidays. Sigh...

If it wasn't for my wife and daughter, I would just drop out of all this holiday foolishness this time of year. Going into debt to buy frivolous things. Toys that will be broken or boring all too soon, gifts to adults that they would have preferred not to get, all in the name, really, of enriching the retailers and continuing to feed our consumer frenzy. My wife, bless her, donated to te local food pantry instead of buying her staff stupid, useless, overpriced gifts this year. We should all be doing that. How did we let ourselves get into this 'NEED' to spend so much of our money this time of year. Why is it that we somehow define ourselves by our stuff? Is this how Christ wanted us to celebrate his birthday??? Or, how God wanted us to celebrate Hannukah?

Publishing a book...

I think I might have an agent fo rmy novel, Burning Second Street Park. I had a professional critique done for them (the agent, at their request) and it was almost all positive, saying only to clean up a few mistakes and insert some more conversation instead of so much narration. Not to make the book 'better', but rather to make it more 'salable'. I am willing tio do this and have started editing, and intend to spend a bit of time this month finishing it up. If anyone wants to read it and make any specific suggestions, I would really appreciate direct, hard, unblinking opinions. This is crunch time. If I am to get it published, I need this unbiased help. When you have written something like this, you are generally so close to it that it is hard to see it clearly.

Help!!!!

Monday, November 30th, 2009

A quick exploratory sojourn...

I drove my wife, daughter and mother-in-law down to NYC two Saturdays ago so they could see the Christmas Show (Rockettes) at Radio City Music Hall. I dropped them off near the venue, parked the car in a garage at 10th and 51st and got over to the subway.

I took the red 3 train up to the South Bronx to see what I could see. I was pressed for time, as usual and of course, but instead of just waiting around I thought I could see some sights and make a few images.

I only made about 30 images, having spent much of that two hours riding the train, but the few I did make are in my gallery: Two Hours in NYC, November 2009; two of them are here.

I got off two stops into the Bronx, at Grand Concourse and 149th St.

It was a cool, damp day but the sidewalks were still teeming with people. Even though I am a pretty astute observer, I can be pretty dense sometimes. It took me a while to realize that I was the only white person in view, and I was hearing no english spoken at all.

Except...

I passed a store front where some men (not boys) were hanging around and one of them gave me a hard look, and just as I walked by, he sneered, "What the @#$! you doin' up here, get your ass gone". Or words to that effect. I just kept walking.

I was a tad nervous taking pictures after that. I got a great wrap from a street vendor, than got back on the subway and stopped in Harlem at 125th street and spent the last of my time making images there, then finally, late, made my way back to Times Square to hook up with my girls In a driving rain that soaked me to the skin.

Monday November 16th, 2009

The Ice Encroacheth...

Took last Friday off. The weather looked good and I wanted to get on the water one last time before the ice came in in the Adirondacks.

Got up at 3AM and was on the road at 3:20AM (had loaded the canoe and gear the night before). Drove up to the west end of Forked Lake and was on the water at 6:15AM. It was 19 degrees as I put into the water. Paddled a mile due west of the landing and into the Brandreth Inlet. Had ideas of paddling to to and beyond teh big beaver dam that has been there as long as I have been going there.

Well, the ice beat me to it. The lake was totally clear but the inlet was covered by a layer of scrim ice. Everything was all frosted and the ice was crunchy as I broke through with my paddle and the canoe grated through. All the little inlets at the shore were frozen over, but I was able to proceed slowly and carefully up the inlet, the broken scrim reconnecting and hardening behind me. I took pictures the whole time, of course, enjoying the patterned ice and the frosted reeds and grasses.

See a selection of the images I made at the gallery: Forked Lake November 2009.

I finished a series of images and drifted up to the edge of an open area and bumped. I batted at a shelf of ice with my paddle, and the paddle just bounced right off. I slapped harder and the paddle bounced higher. I drifted near and leaned and punched with my fist and the ice shelf held firm. There was no way through; I was as far as I was goung to get, a good quarter mile downstream from, the beaver dam.

I made the best of it, drifting back down the inlet, scrunching through the lighter ice, taking many images of frosted shoreline, frozen mud flats choked with leaves and glistening shoreline.

At 8:30AM, my feet were as frozen as the water, the cold and damp were working into my bones and I was running out of steam. With all the heart medication I take, I am more susceptible to cold than I have ever been. I have to admit it and realize I am not as impervious to cold as I used to be.

I visited a few of the old campsites we used to stay at and started paddling back the mile or so to the landing.

Just as well, two boatloads of hunters came droning in. I went and spent some time at Buttermilk Falls and then had breakfast at the Long Lake Diner.

Home by 2PM and had time to change the hot tub water!

Wednesday November 11th, 2009

History...

Finished re-scanning a selection of old Cohoes postcards and images from my collection.

Great old stuff that shows Cohoes (my home town) as it looked long ago. I have been collecting these, mostly off eBay, for about 10 years now and have quite a few of them. I am always looking for ones I don't have and am willing to pay a reasonable fee to buy them or at least scan them for publication here. See my gallery: Cohoes Historical Images.

I will be scanning my collection of Capital Region (New York State), Erie Canal and Adirondack postcards for inclusionm on this site at a later date, as I get to it.

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

Back to Documentation...

Planning to drive my wife, daughter and mother in law to New York City this Saturday so they can see the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Show. I won't attend; instead I am planning on taking the subway up either to Harlem or the South Bronx to wander the streets and make some images.

I spent all spring and summer revisiting my photographic roots, making nature images in the Adirondacks and elsewhere as the opportunities arose. Lots of fun, but as the weather is changing, I am getting interested in the idea of returning to the documentary stuff I was doing for the past decade. I have been wanting to get into the less affluent areas of NYC for a while, so this will be a short chance to get acquainted with what is there.

As an example of what I am talking about, below are a few samples of this style of image made in the Adirondacks. See more in the area of my website under Adirondack Document. I also have extensive images of this type under Argyllsire Farm, Cohoes, Border Crossings and Finding USA. Browse around and see what I have been spendiing my time at.

Wish me luck for Saturday...

Monday, November 9th 2009

Time to start fighting back...

Small family snafu this weekend.

Some members of my extended family are conservative. Our politics are pretty much the opposite (I am not speaking for my wife here, she can speak for herself). I am liberal, especially on social issues, less so on fiscal issues.

That said, I am getting very tired of the sanctimonious right wing talking heads who hide behind 'Family Values' and 'Christian Ideals' and other such bull, all the while preaching a brand of hate/fear/invective that is at stark odds with anything that Jesus Christ ever stood for. I am talking about the Rush Linbaughs, Glen Becks, Dobsons most tele-evangelists, and, to a lesser extent, the George Will's of the conservative media ilk. These 'Anti-Patriots' (my term) are all about fomenting fear, distrust, hatred, ignorance, and divisiveness, so as to enrich themselves and stir up the uninformed among us.

The family snafu started when one of them sent me another one of these missives that fly around the internet. This one was about the purported bill the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) is pushing through congress to make it illegal to use the cross or other religious symbols in our national cemeteries. Of course, as is always the case, it is a total lie; no truth to it at all. Check it out at the ACLU site or on Snopes. The ACLU, which specifically defends the constitution from 'America Haters' (and believe me these conservatives do indeed hate America), is under continuous attack by these defenders of anti-Americanism. They will stop at nothing to get and stay in power and enrich themselves and their colleagues.

So anyway, this family member usually doesn't send much to me. They know how I feel; we have gotten into this before. But this one got through, and it was so obvious that I called them on it, telling them pointedly not to waste my time with this crap anymore, and chewing them out for irresponsibly passing these things on with no concern about truth ot anything alse. Now they are mad, telling me that they haven't felt so much anger from anyone since... well that's none of your business. I could have said what I said more nicely, I guess. For the twentieth time.

But, sometimes it's time to speak up. Most bad things that happen in the world happen because good people allow bad people get away with stuff. And, (and I really believe this) these conservatives and fake Christians are really, really bad people. Unfortunately, the fear they have let loose on us all has created followers. Dictators and other speakers have been doing this for years. Recently, Hitler did it in Germany, Lenin and Stalin did it in Russia, Bin Laden is doing it in the Muslim world now, and Bush & Cheney tried it with the Patriot Act and their other unilateral retractions of our freedoms. Remember McCarthyism??? Sell the fear, and sell yourself as the savior, and worried, unthinking people will run to your side. That is easier for them than it is to find out the real truth for themselves. It is eaiest to listen to those yelling the loudest. Then, the 'savior' can pretty much curtail freedoms at will and prosecute enemies, all in the name of protecting us from those outside evils.

I would argue that all forms of political and religious orthodoxy have their roots in conservatism.

Conservatism is all about I GOT MINE AND YOU CAN'T HAVE IT AND YOU ARE DIFFERENT THAN ME AND SO MUST BE BAD. I HAVE TO HATE YOU TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF. I DON'T WANT CHANGE. I WANT EVERYTHING TO STAY THE SAME SO I DON'T EVER HAVE TO LOOK AT MYSELF AND THINK THAT MAYBE MY LIFESTYLE IS NOT THE ONLY WAY TO LIVE.

Believe me, if Christ were on earth today, he would be preaching liberalism, just as he did 2000 years ago, and the Limbaughs of the media, the Bush's of the political world and also the leaders of most conservative Christian churches would be calling loudly for his crucifixion. And, I am sure Christ would get to die all over again for our sins!

So, anyway, after years of saying I would, this morning I atually went on line and signed up to be a card carrying member of the ACLU. This act won't change the world, for sure, but I am planning on joining the discussion. Shame on me for living this long as an American citizen and NOT joining the ACLU.

Thursday, October 29th 2009

Another taste of mortality.....

This is not supposed to be about me, but I am feeling it.

My cousin Mark died this morning. He was 61 and it looks like he had cardiac failure in his sleep. His son, Jimmy, emailed me and I talked to him on the phone a short while ago, and also talked with my cousin Jesse, Mark's wife.

Mark and I were not close; never were, particularly, but we were good at exchanging jabs, barbs and witicisms at the family funerals we met at. He was often iconoclastic and always blase about most things. If your feelings would get hurt easily, he could be difficult to have a conversation with. I remember he had a heart attack at least 25 years ago, but had not heard at all that he had lasting problems from that. I don't remember the details, if I actually ever even knew them.

This is bothering me much more than I would have expected, considering I saw him about every 5 years or so. He was the age my brother Bob would be if he had lived (Bob died in a swimming accident in 1975). He was 7 years older than me. I had my very own heart 'episode' just under three years ago. My family is aging and dying off. My sister Judy turned 67 today; her husband Ron is 70. The years are rushing by, summer lasts only a few days, it seems (although winter still seems to last for years at a time!).This is getting serious, here.

So, I am sad for Jimmy and Jesse, who have lost their father and mate, and I am wistful about our family, dwindled as it is becoming.

Monday, October 26th 2009

An hour in New Scotland...

Saturday October 24th was a raw, rainy fall day. My wife and I were driving home along Route 155 in Voorheesville after doing chores. It was the type of weather that, in years past, I would have not considered for photography. I would have gone on home, stayed in, warm and comfortable, thinking about the other things I needed to do, and realizing that an hour was too short of a time in which to be creative.

This time, I saw potential images in the roadside woods and fields. I drove on home, dropped off my wife, kissed her goodbye, and headed back out into the day. It was about 1:30; I had to pick up my little brother, Javontae, at 3PM so we could make the 4PM basketball game at UAlbany. So, I had about an hour to get a few images.

Brightness came and went, interspersed with gray, leaden skies, blowing leaves and smatters of rain. I stopped the car at a likely spot and found various things of interest. I saw red, red berries dripping water, surrounded by dying leaves. I photographed the trace of the old entrance road to Bender Farms. I made images of tapestries of foliage, the same foliage I had been driving by, unaffected, over the last week or so. Near Voorheesville, I stopped at the stream that is hidden right next to Route 155. I had passed this stream hundreds of times and never stopped to look at it. Sure it runs under a culvert, and, sure it isn't quite an Adirondack pristine watercourse. For whatever reason, I had never given it a second thought.

I did today...

As usual, I lost track of time while making these images. I got lost in the moment and forgot everything else for a little while. The muse takes over and the eye travels, and I make an image, then another one, then another one, then...

Then, I came to, and saw that it was about twenty to three. I flew to my car, raced into Albany to Javontae's house, and picked him up about three minurtes late.

Take a look atthe whole gallery at: New Scotland Autumn.

The basketball team looks to be pretty decent this year, by the way!

Tuesday, October 20th, 2009

A step back to last year...

Was going through some old images and came across the pictures I made during our vacation week at Raquette Lake last summer. We had stayed at Golden Beach Campground on Raquette Lake and made various day trips here and there while we were there.

A selection of images is in my new Gallery: Raquette Lake 2008.

Last year was the first year I was shooting entirely with my new Canon G9. I was still getting used to it and the idea of being completely film less (and film cost-less) and I can really see a difference between pictures taken last year and those I made this year.

As usual, I was mostly interested in images made during morning mist and had two nice mist days last year. there was one great sunset, too, the first night!

With my new found freedom, I made images of our daily jaunts, also.

At left is the small Ice Cream shop at the marina on Blue Mountain Lake. I had been to Blue Mountain Lake (actually 'BY' it) many times, and last year was the first time I had ever found this spot, tucked down near waters edge. You pretty much have to know where it is or have an eagle eye for small roadside signs to see it. We stopped there a number of times this year, too, while we stayed at Prospect Point Cottages, a short walk away.

We also found a great breakfast diner (Image in the Raquette Lake Gallery) that has since closed. I even took a few images of campers at the campsite, along with some images of the Tahawus Ghost Town and other locations.

The campsite itself, we thought was only OK, but that is mostly because we are much more used to the solitude of wilderness camping. Here, we heard generators during the day, pickups and RV's rumbled past our camp, and people partied well into the wee hours.

Not our favorite way to spend the week, considering we were sleeping in Kim's brother's Pop-Up Trailer and using the public rest rooms.

That all said, we did have a pretty good week. Though it was the COLD week that summer, we still managed to enjoy ourselves. We climbed Blue Mountain, had dinner and saw a movie at this quaint theater in Inlet (this year, too!), did a number of short day hikes, and even drove to and up Whiteface Mountain, at right. You can drive most of the way to the summit, and either take an elevator to the top, or hike a VERY INTERESTING trail to the summit, which we always do.

Again, since Kim and I, and as of this year, Jenna has, usually hike roadless peaks, this was a bit less than satisfying, but still a great place to visit when you don't want to put much effort in.

We won't do a trip like this again, preferring camping at places like Forked Lake or staying in nice cabins like those at Prospect Point, we still had a good time, the kid enjoyed it, and there you have it.

I guess I have to stop being so snooty!

Monday, October 19th 2009

Woke up yesterday morning in a waterfall mood. Same mood I seem to have been in for the last few weeks.

So, got up and drove south to Rensselaerville, up in the Helderbergs, and about a half hour south of Albany.

I was heading for the Rensselaerville Falls near the village, but as usual, got distracted by the quaint look of this historic place.

See my gallery: Rensselaerville October 2009 for a selection of village, falls and a few other images.

The mileage sign at right is posted on a historic building at the main intersection of Route 85 and Main Street. very handy if you need to figure out how long a drive it is to Albany, Boston, or Panama, for instance.

The village itself is very crowded, amazingly so for a tiny hamlet way out in the boonies.

It is generally very well kept up. The people who buy these houses seem very interested in historical preservation. There is a Biological Research Center, the Hyuck Preserve (where I was supposedly heading), The Catalpa House Bed & Breakfast, and the Palmer House Cafe, an upscale restaurant. The hamlet projects artsiness and history. Also nearby is the Rensselaerville Institute Conference Center.

I spent a bit of time wandering Main Street, searching out details without bothering any homeowners, as best I could. This is a popular spot for local amateur and pro photographers, and I would imagine the locals get a bit tired of us, especially those of us who clamber around private property as if we own the joint.

Of course, I was mostly attracted to the old building that was, at one time, I think, a gristmill, known, anyway, as the Mill House. The old boards of the loading dock, right on Main Street, were wonderfully weathered and I spent time making images, like the one at left, of the details.

Time was fleeting, as usual, so I grabbed my tripod and hiked up into the preserve, along Ten Mile Creek, towards the main falls, at right.

Ten Mile Creek flows out of Lake Myosotis, cascades down Rensselaerville Falls, and then continues through the village and beyond, with small riffles and falls every little way and a big dam back at the Mill HouseI mentioned above.

The trail crosses below the falls on a bridge, and includes a nice prominent sign that clearly states, 'No Climbing on the Falls'.

Unfortunately, you just can't get great images of the falls unless you walk just a bit further at water level to where I got this image, at right.

It was slippery and, in spots, I could understand why they want to keep the public away, but I went anyway. I was careful!

On the way back down the trail, I descended to water level for nice rushing water and small falls close-ups.

I was very careful! Really!!!

Just across the bridge at the base of the falls is the remains of the original Felt Mill established in 1870. Tthe preserve itself was created in 1931. Read at the site pointed to by the link 'Felt Mill' above for more information.

Great old native shale walls, covered in green moss, quietly blending into the hemlock forest. I spent a while here making a number of these studies. I am always such a sucker for texture.

After more time along the stream, I got back down to the Mill House on Main Street and made some spillway images just below the bridge.

Then I got back in my car and headed back North on Route 85, past Westerlo and Berne and down the hill to Clarksville, at the base of the Helderbergs. Stopped at Meadowbrook Farm for a few cornstalk images (don't ask me why!).

Was planning on going right home, but a sign for fresh potatoes caught my eye and I turned right in the village in search pf the farm.

Just outside of Clarksville, on the side road, I crossed Onesquethaw Creek and spied a beautiful hollow along the stream.

I stopped teh car and got out and wandered a few minutes, making a few images like the one at right.Got back in the car and off again insearch of those potatoes.

Wound around country roads, probably lost, and then came upon the old pickup and another sign and, there they were, potatoes and brussels sprouts, still on their stalks.

Two bucks for four pounds of potatoes with the dirt still on, how can you go wrong. It was the honor system and I dropped two bills through the slot. Considered the sprouts, but...

Back on the road, came to an intersection and took a left, expecting to get back to Route 443, but ended up further east on Route 32. No problem, I lnew where I was, and was home in less than fifteen minutes.

Took my daughter to her soccer games, her team tied both games, and we FROZE!

Thursday, October 15th, 2009 Post 2

Finishing up Columbus Day.

Wow, a whole day to follow my nose in the Adirondacks. No plans, no commitments, no time constraints (except the limitations of daylight hours); just go where I want and do what I want.

I wanted to take pictures of some favorite spots. A selection of these images are in my new gallery: Columbus Day 2009.

Near Utowana lake is a stream that flows from the south under Route 28 and into the Marion River. I have photographed this stream more than once before but wandered about a half mile up its course this day, making general scenic images but mostly concentrating on details as I have been doing all summer.

The water was luscious, with the usual fallen leaves and tumbled boulders.

Leaving the stream after about an hour, I headed east to Blue Mountain Lake and then north towards Long Lake. Turned left at Deerland Road and drove to Buttermilk Falls. I have photographed this falls many times, in fact, the image on my home page is one of this spot made with my 4X5 Field Camera at just this time of year, abiout 12 years ago.

This time, I looked for wildness and details. Took some different images of the falls themselves, a few of which you can see in the gallery, but then found a large puddle with leaves floating in it; an example at left. Made a number of these.

I have a plan for a new photo book called 'A Reverence for Adirondack Waters' that I hope to compile of recent and older images over the course of teh next 6 months or so. Maybe some publisher will pick it up if it's good enough. It's always good to dream, anyway. At any rate, these are the type of images that I think about for that book.

I didn't derive into Forked lake. I would have been way too tempted to put my boat in the water and I had ideas of other places to visit in the short time I had today.

So, I left Buttermilk, stopped at the Long Lake Stewarts for lunch and then headed north.

Just north of Long lake is the Cedarlands Boy Scout Reservation. A year or two ago, the State of New York purchased a conservation easement to the 5500 acre lands, including McRorie Lake. Under the agreement, as I understand it, the public cannot use the land during summer scouting season, but can go in there and explore off season, which it now was. I had been intending to do this since I first heard of it, and so drove in today.

I was able to drive up Kickerville Road to where you used to be stopped. Now, I was able to drive in a mile or so to a new parking area in a field. I walked about a half mile or so to to the put in at Mud Pond. I hadn't carried my boat in because I didn't know how far it would be. In my gallery, you will see a few images I made along teh way, nothing particularly illuminating. You paddle Mud Pond and down a stream to a carry to McRorie Lake itself. I'll do that another time.

Back on the road, I headed north to Tupper Lake and then east towards Saranac Lake, looking for picture opportunities.

I had seen this wetlands area many times, pictured above, but was never in a position to stop and really look at it. This time I spent a few minutes, and although I didn't climb down to it, it was beautiful and I made a few images like this.

I continued on past Saranac, the day growing late, past Lake Placid, and stopped to witness, for perhaps the 200th time, the view of the high peaks from North Elba. I included one picture of Algonquin in the gallery.

I moved on to the the Cascade Lakes, and stopped, as I have manhy times, to shoot the Cascade itself and reflections and foliage at this beautiful spot.

I then moved on to Chapel Pond, west of Keene Valley on Route 73. A famous rock climbing area, Chapel Pond displays wonderful reflections of the cliffs that rock climbers favor.

The last few images I made were on a tripod low light, long exposure, just as it was getting too dark to see what I was doing. Example at left.

A fine day, time to get home to my girls.

Thursday, October 15th, 2009

Along the Marion River...

Back to Columbus Day, this past Monday. So, I pooted on Utowana Lake for a bit more than an hour. Then I paddled into the Marion River, which flows west out of the lake, towards Raquette lake. A selection of he images I made here are in my gallery: Marion River.

Within a quarter mile, I came to the carry that bypasses a falls and rapids area. The carry was maybe a thrd of a mile along a beautiful path that you could easily drive a car on.

At the low end of the rapids, the put in enters a beautiful river. Fairly strong current, but it was with me, flowing west, and easy to handle in my trusty boat.

The frost was thick here and I was completely distracted, taking image after image of frost covered grasses and shoreline.

I paddled down the river about two miles or so, meandering among the curves and oxbows.

Unfortunately, even though otherwise you would never know it, the river is not far from Route 28, and I could hear trucks and RV's and such grinding up hills and keening around bends in the road, off in the distance, so the experience was not all that wilderness-y.

I saw much evidence of beaver and muskrat activity, and a few otter slides, but, darn it, still no moose. If I were a moose, I wouldn't hang out here, either, what with the road noise and all. Not a luxury resort area to a moose, I'm sure.

After I turned around, I spotted a Great Blue Heron stalking the shore a bit ahead of me. Usually these birds are very wary and won't let you get too close, but this guy was either new to the business or didn't see me as a threat.

At any rate, I got close enough to get a slew of images like this before he finally squawked away.

Back to the carry, I noticed the nice woods on the south side of the trail.

I put the boat down and spent a happy half hour walking around. The area had clearly been extensively logged a while ago and there were still vestigal paths here and there, but the whole area had a real primitive feel to it, untouched, wild and primeval.

The day had clouded up a bit and the light was wonderful, with peeks of sunshine occasionally, warming the trees, and softening the air.

This area used to be more civilized than it appeared now. There was once a railroad between the Marion River and Utowana Lake, serving rich turn of the century (19th to 20th) tourists. There is a site with old postcard photos of the area. I have an image in my Marion River Gallery that shows the area as it looks now. You can compare it to the 'Upper Carry' images posted on that site.

Now, other than the road noise, the area is seemingly pristine, the tourists gone, and only wilderness visitiors like me breaking the solitude.

At left is a fallen tree that completely blocked the river, creating a small, very photogenic waterfall.

This land is all private and posted, allowing the carry pass-through only. So, I was careful about getting my images with minimal tresspassing. That said, I did leave the path for those woods images above and also for this falls image. With my apologies to the landowners who kindly allow my passage, I swear I did no damage and left no trace of my passing.

Philosophically, I am of two minds about this tresspassing stuff. On the one hand, I believe in land ownership, to an extent, and want to abide by the posted signs, especially when the landowner is obligingly allowing me passage. On the other hand, my liberal thoughts wonder why one person or group can, beacuse of their accunmulation of money and power, unilaterally keep the public from using land.

Ownership, in practice, is always temporary. People die, things are sold; the reality is that we are all always ONLY caretakers of whatever we possess in this world. Is it really ours, or does it really belong to a higher power. If so, maybe we should be willing to share more than we do.

Wednesday, October 14th, 2009 Post 2

Got up at 4AM this past Monday morning, Columbus Day.

On the road by 4:15, heading up to Utowana Lake and the Marion River, west of Blue Mountain Lake, where we stayed this past summer.

Had my Hornbeck Boat loaded on the car and some cold/damp weather gear with me, expecting it to no longer be summer in the Adirondacks.

I had been wanting to paddle on these two waters for years; had intended to while staying on Blue Mountain lake (they are all connected) but it just never happened. So, here I was, driving north in the dark, ready to spend a few hours exploring.

Got to the path to the put in on Utowana, right next to the sign for the lake on Route 28 west of Bue Mountain, at a tad after 6:30AM, and was on the water well in time for the sunrise.

A beautiful morning!

It was 26 degrees by my car thermometer as I pulled up. A good chilly start.

Not much mist, but there were pockets and tendrils of it floating here and there, enough to add significantly to the dreaminess of the lake.

There was a heavy frost on the grasses and reeds alongthe shore and especially on the small hammocks and islands that dot this, the west end of Utowana lake.

A modest selection of images taken that morning is in my gallery: Utowana Lake, October 2009. I spent a good hour or more pooting about the hammocks and islands, making sunrise images and frost images, toasty in my gear and enjoying myself hugely.

There was just enough air movement to routinely float me away from my selected spot while trying to make images, so it was work, as usual, but worth it.

As the sun rose, the frosted vegetation started to glisten and twinkle.

The deadfall at right was on the shore in a cove just at the entrance to the Marion River. All the branches were covered with a thick frost that shone yellow as the first rays hit it.

I'm a sucker for reflections, especially reflections in morning light. OK, OK, I'm just a sucker for morning light in general.

I coasted along the shores, finding ever new compositions and sights to marvel at. I never get bored with this. It's worth the early drive, the cold, the dampness, all the inconveniences, everything.

I would live here if I could find a way to do it and keep my family happy and fed at the same time. As it is, I steal these moments when I can pull it off, and make do.

The beauty of the digital camera (assuming you carry enough battery power and memory capacity) is that you are no longer worried about the cost of film and, especially, processing. So, you can shoot and shoot and shoot, experiment, experiment, experiment.

Additionally, you can immediately review your results on the screen, seeing an accurate representation of exposure and composition, allowing not only deletion of mistakes, but the realizattion that you got it right or wrong and the opportunity to correct. My percentage of 'Keepers' is so much higher now, and that is a great feat.

These mornings are each unique, and it takes effort to get here on the right type of day and at the right time. I no longer get home after a shoot and, a week later, find that I didn't get what I wanted, and there is no way to go back and get it again.

The opportunities are no longer lost to mistakes, ineptitude, or indecision.

Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

Below freezing when I got up this morning.

The front lawn, and our car windshields, were covered with a pretty thick frost. The sun was starting to hit and the lawn was sparkling in the cold.

I grabbed my camera and made a few quick images, just to show what it looked like.

Walking over the lawn made footprints in the frost. I could hear my shoes crunching the frigid grass. The air was brisk and I could see my breath.

In only a shirt, the cold bit at my arms and fingers, warmth from the glow of the rising sun counterbalanced the frost.

The grass glistened.

The yard was dotted with stray fallen leaves.

In the shadow areas, the leaves were well frosted. In the areas where the sun was already hitting, the leaves were clear, but with a rim rime of frost tendrils at their edges.

Being completely lazy, I didn't want to get down low on my knees, get my pants wet, and have to change, just to get a better quality frosted leaf picture for this post. So, no art, here, just an idea of what was there, lazily rendered.

Good photographers KNOW that you have to get down and dirty (and cold and wet) to get the really good images. Not this morning, sorry.

I did what I could, squatting and stretching, holding the camera at arms length. The pictures sucked, but, too bad.

I still had to scrape those windshields!

Saturday, October 10th, 2009

Played a bit more with these same images discussed in the last post.

Decided to play with Duotones. So, changed the image mode to Duotone and played with the colors. Since my images wree already pretty dark and rich, I went with lighter colors. Too dark, and the dark areas mud right up. You can't save Duotones as JPEGS, so after applying my duotone choices, I reset the images back to RGB so that the color tone could be included AND saved as JPEG. A few needed a tad adjustment of the levels.

I didn't do enough to justify a gallery, so here are six of them to look over. As always, I would appreciate any comments via email. Click the 'Email Me' Link above.

Friday, October 9th, 2009 - Post 2

As mentioned in an earlier post (now on my Archive Blog page, see link above), I revisited a selection of the color nature images I made this summer and transformed them into Black and White ('grayscale' is the proper term!) images.

I am presenting them to you in a special gallery at: BW Transformation Fall 2009.

OK, OK, I am on the fence about this. Since I have gone to digital, I no longer shoot in Black and White. There is no need to choose, since I am no longer using the venerable Kodak Tri-X film that I hasd used for my BW image making for years and years.

Now, I can shoot everything in color and simply make images BW at will, still having the color original. So, I have been shooting in color, and enjoying it, and not making BW, except for this year's Avalon Along the Waterline and Avalon Leaves. They were shot in color and changed into B&W.

So, now I have taken some images from the rest of the summer and changed them.

What I see is that I still love Black and White.

The tones and the feel seem more artistic to me. I like the grayscale way of looking at things; we get to see their essence beyond color.

These were all just fine, as far as I am concerned, in color, but a few of them really shine in B&W. Some work better than others.

Interestingly, I am working only with the JPEG versions that my camera made, not the RAW files. I will choose a few of these and go back and visit the RAW files. The Photoshop CS4 RAW Image Processor allows one to process the images as if you could make decisions about light temperature, filtration and exposure duration that you cannot do on already processed JPEGs or any other file format.

Help me out here. I don't care who you are or what your background is. Look over the BW Transformation gallery and send me an email listing your 3 favorites and your 3 least favorites. I'll choose from everyone's favorites and run them through the RIP. See what I get!

Friday, October 9th, 2009

It's fall and coming up to the end of another good weather camping and outdoor season. The leaves are falling, my kid is back in school and playing soccer on weekends, I am coaching, and we have ramped up our routine busy-ness yet again.

We'll still get out a few times, and we do get outdoors in the winter, but our favorite activities, camping and canoeing, are pretty much done till next year.

So, in a bit of a maudlin mood, I am thinking about my favorite place in the world, Forked Lake. The images posted here are from my gallery: Forked Lake Atmosphere.

Most of us have a place that is special to our hearts. For me it is pretty much the entire Adirondack region, but Forked Lake is a strong first among equals. I have spent at least one night camping on this lake every year since 1970, when I was fourteen years old. which makes 2009 my 40th straight year. My wife has done her 21st straight year and Jenna did her eleventh this year, also. It is 'Our' place, now.

I feel a sense of belonging there. I know every bay, every rock outcropping; I have paddled the entire shore, well beyond the confines of the state campsite. I have hiked the surrounding trails, seen deer, bear, bobcats, coyotes (still no moose!), mink, otters, and beaver.

I have paddled the morning mist whenever it offered, portaged over beaver dams while investigating the two swamp inlets, and sat quietly, communing with the silence and freshness of this unspoiled place.

And, yes, I have sat through ferocious storms and cold, damp days.

I have always loved the early morning. The best days are those where the night sky has been clear and the air cold. Fog forms over the water in the wee hours and as the day dawns, the lake is enshrouded in a mist of ever varying thickness.

Some days I can be out and see the sun rise through the mist, casting a glow over everything. Other days the fog is so thick it doesn't burn off until it suddenly lifts hours after sunrise. On still other days, a misty rain or leaden sky have their own beauty.

I am made happy by the fact that my wife and daughter also love it there. They enjoy the yearly sorties to the lake nearly as much as I do.

My wife and I have discussed going a year without visiting Forked Lake on many occasions, but can never quite bring ourselves to do it. It is simply part of our blood.

Over the years, a few friends and family members have come camping with us. There may be new traditions starting up there, too. Our friend Stacy has now come three years in a row with her daughter. She was not a camper before this but now comes back for more, her experience of Forked Lake storms and other crazy weather notwithstanding.

It is the beauty of Forked Lake that caused me to want to take up photography, which has always been, and still is, the avocation and passion of my life. I will never get enough of photographing the lake in the morning mist, of paddling up the swampy inlets, of sitting by the fire under outrageous stars.

I go other places and enjoy other endeavors, but always come back to Forked Lake.

My wife understands that my ashes are to be spread at Forked Lake, so I can rest here after my body has done its job. I will rest in peace.

Monday, October 5th 2009

Had a few free minutes on Saturday and drove up to Thatcher Park, not far from my home.

This is a great place, situated on the northeast edge of the Heldeberg Escarpment. It is a popular day use picnic area and home to the Indian Ladder Trail, which meanders at the base of a roughly 100 foot high cliff, a very popular walk.

I wasn't interested in the trail today, but rather wanted to make images in the woods and along a stream I know of.

As usual, I was immediately distracted by the Overlook and spent a few minutes of my hour taking in the view, an example at right. There was some mist and gray skies which made it more interesting than a sunny day, at least to me. See a selection of images from this hour in my Short Takes gallery: Thatcher Park.

Since it was a cloudy day, the light was perfect for woodsy images. Underexposing and using the tripod (it was too dusky in the woods for hand holding) made for rich colors and an incredible depth to the images.

Again, a major salute to digital technology and my ability to preview results on the LCD screen and not waste film in bracketing and such.

People were picnicing all around me but I had these little pockets of woods and pathways pretty much to myself. Set up the tripod, attached my little gem of a camera and shot away.

I made images of paths and the forest floor. For years I would have done these in Black and White and, in fact, plan to put together a portfolio of a selection of my color images this summer as BW in a week or so, like I did with my Avalon Images in August, so watch out for it.

I kept coming back to the cliff edge path and saw ever changing looks off the edge, including this one, to the right, where the mist had closed back in on the escarpment and obliterated the views off.

I'm a sucker for this kind of stuff.

Time was short, though, I had to get back home soon, so I pushed on the the stream that empties out over the cliff, spraying over the Indian Ladder Trail below.

I crossed the Cliff Edge Trail bridge and heard voices on the trail below.

Me, I left the bridge and started wading up the edges of the stream.

Unlike the Adirondacks and Berkshires, which feature rounded granite rocks and boulders in the watercourses, the Helderbergs and Catskills display flat sedimentary rocks framing the running water and stream bank edges.

Frogs flopped into the water ahead of me as I made my way along. I had to look especially hard to even see them before they splashed; they were pretty much the same color as the dun colored rock and if they weren't moving, blended in almost completely. I think I saw no more than five before they hopped in and swam away, and I heard at least fifty flop-splashes.

No pictures of them at all.

As was true of last week, I was drawn to leaves and rushing water details, and, I feel, took a lot of pictures that look like what I did at Becket last week, but...

I spent about half my time up to my ankles in this stream, along a 100' length!

Thatcher, again, is noted for it's cliffs. At right is a look down a cliff towards the Indian Ladder Trail at the base.

The Indian Ladder Trail used to be longer and ended at a cave renowned for its fossils. As a kid, my dad had taken me along the old section, which was already hard to follow back in 1963. I saw, and went in, the cave, and my uncle collected a few fossils then. That all is now closed off, has been for years; the path now barricaded off and grown in, the cave hidden and hardly talked about. I think researchers can go to it, but not you and me.

I keep thinking that I will climb past the barricade and bushwhack the trail to see if I can get to the cave, just to see it again, but then again, I hate to do something that maybe I should just leave alone.

I'm not the kid I used to be. And, I'm not the kid my father used to be, either!