Death Valley/Zion Canyon 2010. Part I

Heya everyone. Just got back from my week-long trip to Las Vegas. The airline tix themselves were paid for with Delta Skymiles, so I didn't have much of a choice with regards to WHEN to travel. (Honestly I would've done it earlier, when flowers were in full bloom in Death Valley, but what are ya gonna do?) Once I turn 60, and have my whole retirement to look forward to, I will probably spend a few weeks in both of these parks, waiting for that perfect sunset, with perfect clouds, and perfect light... In the meantime I've gotta do what I can... with what I've got.

My departure was actually, a big pain in the arse. Apparently, you now have to arrive AT LEAST one hour prior to departure (domestic) in order for your bags to be checked. I arrived at (ding ding) 2 minutes past the hour-prior. So the kind lady at the check-in told me I cannot travel. Long story (full of complaints) made short.. I ended up on the 5pm flight. I even managed to squeeze-in a short nap (back home).

Vegas wasn't as hot as I remember it. 70s, with chilly nights. And it was almost June. I had spent the first night at Ray's place (a friend of mine). The guy was kind enough to remember my pet allergies, and vacuumed the room I'd be staying in. Still, I popped in a Benadryl, which, (with the aid of some single malt) made me sleep like a bear cub after honey.

The next day I drove to Pahrump, Nevada (what a dump of a town). The city has a population of around 25,000, but ya gotta wonder, where the hell are they? It's one of the most spread-out towns you'll find. I checked-in at Best Western (got a suite for the price of a room), put some of the healthy food I got at Whole Foods-Vegas into the fridge, and started going through what gear I'd need in Death Valley.

Topped out in the rental car at 108mph. Shot a video of it too, and I'd share it with you all, except that I worry that some law enforcement official, somewhere down the line, who knows when and why, would come across it and mail me a speeding ticket (stranger things have happened)... so you'll just have to take my word for it.

So ta-daaa! Arrived at Death Valley (from the south), and headed right for the Badwater Basin. My new watch (Casio Pathfinder) keeps me updated with regards to sunset and sunrise times (which, for a landscape photographer are as essential as a wasp repellant). The parking lot at Badwater Basin was half-full. Most folk were just getting ready to leave. One 60-something year old was actually jogging in the 102 degree weather. I headed out, walking directly west (or bearing 270 as my watch-with-compass would say). After about 35 minutes, the path was no longer beaten to death by visitors, and salt crystals were beginning to cover the ground.

After some fiddling around, here's the money shot from that moment:

Here's a geeky video shot on-location: SHOOTING BADWATER BASIN: VIDEO

Done deal. Once the sun set over the Panamint Range (that dark silhouette that resembles mountains sitting in the distance), it got dark fairly quick. By the time I got back to the car, I could see Venus rising (no, seriously). By the way, I'm aware of the flowers blooming in Death Valley around this time of year, but what on Earth were honeybees doing in Badwater? A mile out from the road, not a sound to be heard. No hum of a breeze, no distant yelling. Deadly silent. Except for honeybees that continued to distract me (I'm somewhat of a wasp-phobic in case that hasn't been made clear).

My plans to stay the night and shoot star trails over Badwater were therefore quickly smashed to pieces. That and the fact that I would have gone mad from doing absolutely nothing for four hours in the desert. I mean, aside from sitting in rock-hard salt that the ground was, there was nothing else to do. Next time I've gotta plan this better. Maybe bring some music, or a friend (yeah, a person to talk to!). There's always NEXT TIME.

I got back to Pahrump about 90 minutes later, exhausted like a honeybee in Badwater. After a quick shower and, after watching the second half of Robots on AMC, I passed out.

My first one

So this is it. Essentially everyone else has been raving about it for years. Nope, it's not a magic tooth brush, or a miracle drug for depression. It's blogging. Well, count me in (better late than never!). I'm going to share personal stories with you here (and whoever else decides to read them), experiences, travels, and (yeah, you knew this was coming) problems as well. All related to photography of course. Except for my first post:

It's October 15th, 2009. Typical autumn night. It's Thursday. Sophie and I have just finished watching an episode of The Sopranos. Lilly is sound asleep (she just got a fresh injection of warm breast milk, so why not? She's 7.5 months old now, just for the record). There is something about autumn. It epitomizes change, growth (or death? Think falling leaves). Regardless. My memory suddenly shifts to year 2000, when my brother and I were watching "2001: A Space Odyssey" in our apartment on 17th Avenue in Brooklyn. The air outside was chilly. Trees swayed and hummed with the autumn wind. I was 19 years-old, and had no worry in the world (let's face it, the dot-com job I had at the time was a total joke. We spent most of our time playing Half-Life with the CEO and in return I received a 35k annual salary). I was focused on my website (vtwa.com, though don't try to access it today, it's something COMPLETELY different). What can I say? I was a virtual pilot. I loved the skies. But all I could afford at the time was a flight sim yoke and access to spare time. Something I had plenty of. My brother on the other hand was a "people" person. Spending almost every night with his buddies, in the local park, doing whatever young people do in parks after dark (I'll leave the rest to your imagination).

So going back to "2001: A Space Odyssey". Only now do I realize what a brilliant piece of movie-making that was. But this isn't about the movie. It's a about the way a certain sound, a feeling, a memory can bring back a surge of experiences from waaaay back. My brother left later that night. He had plans with his friends to egg some homes in the neighborhood. I, on the other hand, was determined to keep my attention on Kubrick's psycho-drama. Babies, floating in space. What could be better? Only your own baby, nine years later.

Sophie is in bed, next to me, writing an e-mail about vaccines (she's a big nay-sayer) to her newly-found girlfriends at a local gymboree. She won't let me read any of it. Not 'till she's finished anyway. Well I'll show her!

So why am I writing this crap? Why now? Why here? To be frank, a part of me feels that some parts of my life go undocumented for too long. And my memory isn't what it used to be (I mean c'mon folks, I'm 28!). This way I can look back at what a looney I used to be (provided they still have internet when I'm 65).

But I said this blog would be about photography, so why drift away from the subject? I'm sending in my, now 2 year-old Nikon D300, for maintenance. It's been such a great camera. Come to think of it, the only reason I upgraded from the D70 was due to the viewfinder. In fact, I can remember going to B&H to buy some sh*t when I came across a D200 on the counter. I had asked the salesperson whether I could hold it, and holy cannoli! The viewfinder alone had me sold. But, you know, I was young and a gadget of such value was but a distant dream.

Well, when they announced the D300 in the summer of 2007 I was determined to make it my new love (well, my second love, since Sophie was now sharing the bed with me, and still does :-).

Hey who said this post was supposed to be about something? Isn't blogging just about yappin'? In that case, I think I've done just fine.

Here is my love, roughly 2 months after we met, goofing around in Central Park (along with her pig tails).