A light unto my path

The colors, they are a-changing. If you are into the fall foliage, I suggest walking the Lewis & Clark recreational trail in Mandan. I ventured out after work last Thursday and walked most of the trail before running out of daylight, and the colors are in full effect. I noticed last night that River Road is becoming quite the spectacle, too.

One thing about fall in North Dakota is that it doesn’t last long – get out and enjoy those fall colors while they last! Before long they’ll be gone for the year.

Rainy day redux

Last weekend I took quite the soggy (and muddy) road trip with my cameras. While I did the majority of my shooting southwest of Mandan, I actually began north of Wilton. You may recognize this (especially if you’re a photographer) as a familiar old barn north of Wilton a few miles on Highway 83. Sadly, it has now collapsed. It was intact enough, however, to grant me this really nice shot – the streaks of falling rain are more apparent in front of the opening on the full sized version. It may not even look collapsed at all, if you’re not familiar with this structure.

Here’s how it looked just a short while ago. Notice the stone addition on its east side, which is now completely collapsed and gone. While the barn looks intact, it’s actually several feet shorter. Bummer. As you can see, it’s a very photogenic piece of work, and I’m sure it attracts lots of photographers. I for one continue to visit it from time to time and document its eventual demise. In some ways it seems to get even more photogenic with age.

Rainy day road trip

We were blessed with a steady soaker this weekend, with some places seeing up to two inches of rain. I had a really strong need to roam, so I threw my gear in the truck and headed out on some soggy, spongy dirt roads and trails. I saw some really cool stuff, grabbed a few satisfying photos, caught up on a few podcasts, and managed not to get stuck. In other words, a success.

The rain let up briefly when I grabbed this shot of a rough-looking windmill. The valley in the background is still slightly obscured by the rain, and just after I snapped this shot it picked up again. Thankfully I have lens hoods to keep the front element dry when I poke it out the window of the truck! Yes, I did get out and hoof it in the rain a bit as well.

Humidity, thou art mine adversary

So there I was, north of Bismarck. I’d left the comfort of my climate-controlled home, with its nice cool temperature and low humidity. I’d arrived and scoped out a really cool sunset irrigation photo. The blast of water was going to intersect the golden, setting sun. The tree line in the background was tall enough to be interesting, not tall enough to interfere. My tripod was in place and I dug out my camera…and that’s when it happened.

The nice, cool camera, having been chilled to perfection in my home, now met the hot, moist air. You can see what happened after that: it fogged up. The filter, the lens elements, the mirror, the prism, the viewfinder, and (presumably) the sensor. I took one shot last night, and this was it.

This has happened to me twice before…once at sunset, and once at last year’s Buggies & Blues. Third time’s the charm, I hope, and that I will have learned to let my camera gear acclimatize to the outside temperature before attempting to use it. Don’t be like me and lose a great shot due to a lack of foresight! Make sure your camera is matched to the conditions before you get ready to click that shutter. Have a good weekend!

Lightning crashes…and curiosity pays off yet again


A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! –Charles Dickens

As I sat in the chair reading Dickens this evening I was reminded of a conversation with a friend earlier in the week. He remarked that I’m one of the most curious people he’s met, and that it was meant as a compliment. It’s true, I’m notoriously curious…and that’s one major reason I started this Blog way back when. That’s why the passage quoted above struck a chord within me as I read it tonight.

As a boy growing up in the Rocky Mountains (if at all) I remember looking out over the city below one night and realizing exactly what Dickens describes; each light in the city represents a home, full of people, doing whatever they’re doing, feeling whatever they’re feeling, and so on. It was an epiphany upon which I dwelled some time ago as I stood atop U-Mary hill with my camera, taking a wide-angle photo of Bismarck-Mandan. In fond remembrance I decided to take another such photo tonight.

As I reached the top of the hill I realized that a storm was approaching. I’ve taken almost 80,000 photos in my lifetime, but never really chased lightning; however, in this case it was a target of opportunity. As luck would have it, I was in the right place at the right time as a few giant lightning bolts danced across the frame. I may have to try this more often!

(Yes, the post title is a hat tip to the song title by the band Live)

April showers, viewed from afar

I took my boys out to Fort Lincoln to poke around with our cameras and watch the weather roll by. Rolling by is exactly what it did, missing the park entirely. The clouds did plenty of rumbling as they drifted past. My guys thought it was pretty cool that we could see rain and wondered if it was going to hit our house as it started to dump south of Bismarck. It was getting close to bedtime, so we headed back to find out.

Along the way we spotted a rainbow, something that hadn’t yet manifested while we were atop the hill. We stopped for a quick photo op and then headed back to town. Yep, our house got rained on. We had just enough time for a snack and some bedtime stories, then it was off to bed for them. I’m about to hit the pillow myself.

Didn’t get a blizzard…disappointed? Take a look at these

Since we got cheated out of the blizzard that everyone was anticipating last night, I thought I’d share a few pictures I took of the nasty spring storm we received in Bismarck-Mandan back in 1997. This was a particularly wicked storm, as the snow was very fine and icy. It packed in so tightly that the roads had to be cut open with snowblower-equipped payloaders, instead of simply plowed.

At the time I lived north of Century in the vicinity of Montreal Street. Since only the major roads were cut open, I had to hike around six blocks down to Century Avenue, where the big KFYR-TV 4×4 engineering truck was waiting to transport me to work. As you can imagine, we were pretty busy in a news capacity at that point.

It was a surreal walk down to Century Avenue. The snow was taller than even full size pickups parked along Montreal Street, and as I walked down the road I noticed that I wasn’t leaving any footprints. The snow was made of such fine snow crystals and packed so tightly that I wasn’t breaking through the surface. Every now and then I’d see part of a pickup cab poking up through the snow, but for the most part I couldn’t even tell where the street was, much less where cars were parked.

After the roads were beginning to clear, a crazy friend picked me up in his Escort GT and we went out to document the whole thing. At this time I had merely a little Canon point-and-shoot film camera, but I think it tells the story:

The perspective on this one is slightly misleading, since I was sitting in a compact car. But you get the idea.

As you can see from the walls of snow lining Century Avenue, these roads were literally cut open, as plowing would do no good. Not only was the snow too deep, but it was fine, compacted “sugar snow” composed of tiny little crystals. It was rock hard.

Since we were already into Spring, the sun started to work on the snowbanks right away. They’re melting down pretty quickly. We weren’t in a particularly low-riding car, but even along the Expressway the snow was taller than we were.

The fence along the Expressway was almost completely hidden by snow. Lots of places were packed in completely as the snow settled in and froze solid.

It was a Saturday storm, and I remember being quite put out at having some of my motorcycles stranded at the Hall of Ports for the annual Freedom Riders Motorcycle Show! At least I got to bring home some trophy hardware later.

Anyway…if you’re feeling slighted by the lack of blizzard conditions (especially after all the hype over the last few days), maybe this will help get you through it!

Vanishing point

One interesting bit about the fog this weekend was that it made things nearly impossible to see from a distance, including the landmark capitol building! Even from the pioneer statue at the bottom of the capitol mall the building itself was completely obscured. That gave me an idea, and it kinda worked out the way I planned.

The plan was for the capitol to actually vanish into the fog as I perched at the bottom. Interestingly, the fog didn’t work that way; while it was certainly thick enough looking horizontally through it, the fog wasn’t dense enough to totally obscure things while looking vertically while remaining as close to the building as I wanted. Standing far enough away to allow the building to be obscured by fog blew the perspective I wanted to achieve. In any case, it’s still a neat photo even if the effect is somewhat less than I’d anticipated. I didn’t freeze my fingers for nothing.

While I didn’t bump into him, it turns out I wasn’t the only other photographically inclined person poking around the capitol grounds at night. Check out a brief video of the weekend’s foggy festivities by Sam Sprynczynatyk by clicking here!

Spiky Saturday

Yesterday I took advantage of the conditions and bolted out to some of my favorite rural haunts to see what the weather had in store. I knew the night fog would leave behind some photogenic traces, but also that I needed to find the right location to capture them. Out of town, the spikes of frost were up to an inch long!

I was in a little crunch for time and burned much of it pursuing a snowy owl without result, so I mostly hung around this one fence. It had a really cool way of securing the gate, using a chain from an old thresher or bailer. Naturally such a neat metal structure was the perfect place for frost to set up shop, and I was there to catch it.

Daylight began to break later in the day, and I actually came back after we got the afternoon’s festivities handled. Most of the frost was gone from the fences, but a few low-lying areas and shady spots were still adorned with what my four year old said resembled a porcupine’s quills.

Yes, that’s right…I didn’t come out here alone! I had one of my little guys along for some quality Daddy time. We had a blast just roaming around and talking, and we even spotted a new windmill for our collection! He has the same fascination with these structures as I do. We got to take some photos here, and I got to let him touch and break off some of the frosty spikes and see how they felt and melted.

As soon as it started, the day came to an end. The sun approached the horizon and we began our journey back to town. We got to witness some of the wonders of God’s creation, had some great Daddy-son time, got some cool photos, marked a new windmill in the GPS, and simply had ourselves a glorious day.