MidCoast Maine’s lonely lighthouses and scenic harbors festooned with lobster boats and buoys are part of our maritime heritage and also important tools for Maine’s working fishermen today. Fishing and boat building have been mainstays of the region’s economy since the 1700’s.

I plagiarized that paragraph from one of Maine’s numerous websites.  It summarizes my impression of our first few days in Maine.  Each of the highlighted hyperlinks is good reading. I’m hoping, however, that you will take the time to read about our personal adventure before being diverted. 

The pictures are mine.  Just thought I would throw in some illustration to set the mood for the following verbiage on our adventures.  Hard to put that much color in words.  Not being able to express my feelings for the color and atmosphere of coastal Maine leaves me longing for a better education. 

We left our motel in Farmington with no particular place to go.  Our only commitments were a motel reservation  the night before boarding our ship, the cruise commitment itself, and a reservation at an ocean-side cabin in Stonington, Maine.  We were too early to check into the motel, so we decided to wander. 

We both were curious about Acadia National Park but had planned to tour the park from our cottage in Stonington.  We would be there the week after our cruise.    The motel we had reserved was in Lincolnville Beach, very close to Rockland, where we would board the Stephen Taber, a 137 year-old schooner on which we would be sailing in a few days.  After wandering into Bangor, we veered south, around Ellsworth and through Bucksport toward Rockland. 

Lighthouses were on the menu.  We decided to explore the area around our boarding point.  Jane called and confirmed that we could check into the motel a few days early.  Aren’t cell phones marvelous? 

As we neared our coastal destination, Jane began pointing out all the references to Lobster!  When we passed a sign touting a lobster roll special for just $9.95, she insisted that I turn and go back.  The restaurant was a simple diner … two double-wide trailers, modified to accommodate a dining room and kitchen with restrooms … but, Wow!  The seafood was fantastic.  I had never had a lobster roll but am now a huge fan of that sandwich delicacy.  In addition to the lobster roll, I added a cup of fish chowder.  What a deal; we were in seafood heaven. 

Check in at the ‘50s-style cottage/motel was three o’clock.  The cabins were right on US Route 1, overlooking Penobscot Bay.  It was not much to look at but  it was cheap.  And, it served the purpose, a place to sleep, shower, and, occasionally, the internet connection worked. 

Three o’clock was an estimate.  There was a sign on the door with a number to call if you need anything.  We called and got an answering machine. Pretty casual operation. 

  We left a message, grabbed a few brochures on local attractions and set out on our coastal adventure.  We were just a few minutes from Camden, Rockport and Rockland.   There was a state park along our route into Camden, Camden Hills State Park.  We passed that by, choosing to see if our ship was anchored in Rockland Harbor, and to familiarize ourselves with the surroundings.  We would be needing groceries, laundry facilities, and more lobster. 

We found the ships docking facilities but it was out on a cruise.  We had the info we needed and spent some time investigating Rockland.  I needed to find a place to buy a tripod to replace the one I had just broken.  Rockland is a small town.  The camera store did not stock the Manfrotto that I wanted.  I had to settle for a really cheap Slik.  It had to do.  The lady in the store suggested that the closest place that “might” have what I needed was Bangor. 

We discovered Rockland Breakwater Light by accident.   It was very interesting; a lighthouse at the end of a nearly mile-long stone breakwater to warn ships of the breakwater.  There was a flat surface along the breakwater, making it possible to walk out to the lighthouse and museum.  We walked out slowly, talking with fisherman and a few other photographers along the way.  The museum was closed.  I did get a few decent photos.  We also noticed that Owls Head Light was visible in the distance.  We would catch that one at a later date.

We found the Laundromat and stopped at the grocery for a few supplies.  I noted where the library was, just in case I needed an internet connection.  We finally got checked into the motel and spent much of the evening relaxing and studying for more exploring.  I read a great article on the lighthouses in the area and Jane looked into activities and events.  We spent a little time combining travel to and from the lighthouses with activities and events.  It was Labor Day Weekend.  There was plenty happening.

Our first full day in the area was quite full.  We drove up Mount Battie in Camden Hills State Park and enjoyed the view of Camden Harbor and Penobscot Bay.  I’m not sure what else Camden Hills State Park has to offer.  We stayed only long enough to take in the view, then drove through Rockland and along the coast to Owls Head, the village and the lighthouse.  I took a few pictures of the lighthouse but found the fishing/lobstering village much more interesting … and photogenic.  The colorful lobster pots (traps) stacked along the wharf make a great foreground for shooting boats and ships along the coast and in the harbor. 

The lobstermen were busy cleaning, maintaining, and preparing the traps for their next trip into the bay.  They must have been accustomed to tourists.   They paid very little attention to me wandering around the wharf photographing them and their way of life.  It was a thrilling day for me.  Jane was having fun too; I think she is amused just to see me get so excited. 

While in Owls Head, we noticed signs for an antique motorcycle and aviation show at the Owls Head Transportation Museum.  We took note of the date and time but put it on the agenda for another day.  I had also taken note of an advertisement for Glider Rides – something I have always wanted to do.

The following day, we drove a bit farther south to see the Pemaquid Point Light. It was the farthest south we would venture along Mid-Coast Maine.  I read that Mid-Coast Maine is loosely defined as that area of the coast between Bath to Bar Harbor.  I gather it is generally the area referred to as “Down East.”

Pemaquid Point Lighthouse is near Bristol and is accessed from Damariscotta on US Route 1 via ME 130.  There is a park and picnic area built around the lighthouse.  It is a very popular attraction, both for locals and tourists.  Getting unimpeded pictures can be a bit trying.  I clambered down the rocky outcrops for a low-angle image with the rocks creating an excellent foreground to emphasize the obvious danger to transportation and cargo vessels.  Even then, I had to wait for some German photographers to move their tripods and family of models.

I later found the patience to get a shot of the grounds, the light keeper’s house, the bell tower and  the museum, which is in the light keeper’s house.  Pemaquid was by far the most photogenic of all the light houses we visited.  It is a must see for anyone traveling the Maine Coast.  I spent a lot of time taking pictures and, if ever in Maine again, would love to return for more. 

Driving through the countryside is an adventure.  As per our modus operandi, we we chose to return along the scenic route, ME 32, connecting with US 1 at Waldoboro.   It led to another adventure.  Just north of Bremen,  we saw a sign for seafood and lobster, cooked or fresh to go – just follow the signs to BCMS.  We made a U-turn and headed for BCMS,  Whatever the heck BCMS might be. 

In Broad Cove, we found a fishing wharf, piles of fishing equipment and lobster pots and a huge warehouse-like facility.  The Broad Cove Marine Services (BCMS) facility.  I thought, “We must be lost.”  There was nothing even similar to a restaurant or wholesale/retail store.  But, wandering around and asking a fisherman some  questions led us to the “restaurant.”  It wasn’t much. 

We ordered a lobster lunch, paid the bill and walked out to an area containing a few tables and chairs.  Jane was tickled with the “quaint” atmosphere.  I was taking in the bay and the very photogenic fishing fleet.  I was gradually learning bits and pieces on the life of a lobsterman – a very rugged bunch, in my opinion.

Our lunch arrived on paper plates with plastic utensils.  It seemed perfect.  We were right at the source of a delicacy we so often pass on because of the outrageous prices.  These lobster were straight off the boat with no middleman – except for the fisherman (or his wife) who prepared it for us.  And all for the phenomenally low price of $13.95.  We were tickled.  If you go to Pemaquid Lighthouse, don’t miss the BCMS on your return trip. 

We made one more stop on our way back to our motel.  Lighthouses were my mission so we took ME 131 from Thomaston on US 1 toward St. George and Point Clyde, reaching Marshall Point lighthouse as the sun settled in the western sky.  Marshall Point Light, as are most Maine lighthouses, is also very popular with photographers  and tourists. I seldom include people in my pictures because of the need for model releases when I go to sell them.  However, I managed to silhouette this couple, eliminating the need for a release, which is required for all “recognizable” people in a photograph. 

This old anchor was the perfect foreground for this nautical navigation and transportation scenic.  Shooting into the setting sun was a bit difficult.  I liked the image but must admit that it was rejected for “poor lighting.” 

Memory fails me and there are very few notes to pull from.  I’m pretty sure this was a Saturday excursion.  We were passing through many small towns and villages.  Each was involved in Labor Day Weekend activities.  We saw many signs advertising these local activities and even stopped for what we thought was a Volunteer Fire Department fund raiser – a lobster stew lunch.  We were a day early.  We pulled into the advertised parking lot but only found a crowd of people preparing the lobster.  The lobster stew and chowder lunch was scheduled for the next day.  The crew jokingly asked if we would like to help crack, or shuck, or whatever you call taking a lobster out of its shell.  We declined.  I later told Jane, “Hey, we screwed up!  Do you realize that they were eating nearly as much lobster as they were throwing into the pots?  We could be eating FREE lobster.” 

I remember now, the next day was Saturday, the 5th of September.  Camden was hosting a huge celebration, centered around the Windjammer Fleet.  We made a quick dash up Mount Battie (Camden Hills State Park) to look down at the crowded town of Camden.  We decided to chance it anyway.  We managed to find a parking spot in this small town where parking spaces are at a premium, getting  a kick out of this No Parking sign on a church wall near where we finally found a spot to park. 

Seeing these beautiful relics of our past made us anxious to begin our voyage on the Stephen Taber, which was disappointingly not one of the old wooden schooners in the Camden Harbor for the festival.  Access to the ships in the harbor was surprisingly simple.  I got a few pictures before we made our way to the food.  Several of the local restaurants were participating in the Camden Chowder Challenge.  They were offering a tray filled with a cup of chowder from each restaurant.  The idea was to mark the accompanying form rating the chowders from your favorite to least favorite. 

We had fun at the festival but needed to run a few errands before boarding our schooner.  We spent the rest of that Saturday doing the mundane things that have to be done … laundry, for instance.  Since we would be checking out of the motel the following morning, we decided to get things done and sort what would be stored in the car from what little we could get by with taking on board the Stephen Taber.  

We were out of the motel early.  Boarding was at 4 o’clock and we had a few sites to investigate before boarding the ship.  There was a motorcycle and antique aviation exhibit at the Owls Head Transportation Museum.  I must say that if you travel this area of Maine, you will have plenty of entertainment.  I don’t know who is responsible but they do a great job of scheduling events and activities for tourists … and the residents.

We drove back to Owls Head to check out the Motorcycle and Aviation Show at the Transportation Museum in Owls Head.  What I had expected to be a dull day turned into a really fun adventure. I especially enjoyed the antique aircraft. And, I got some great pictures of old cars and motorcycles.  I took a few video clips of the antique aircraft in flight.  I will save those for another time.

This old car is a 1907 Renault Vanderbilt Racer.  It is just one example of an enormous collection of cars, motorcycles, bicycles, wagons, trains, airplanes, etc.  And, the collection is not static.  There are permanent exhibits as well as temporary displays offered by proud supporters of the facility.

We enjoyed the day but were constantly checking the time, anxious for four o’clock and boarding the subject and highlight of our East Coast Adventure – the historic sailing vessel, Stephen Tabor.  We spent the night aboard her with departure scheduled for ten the following morning.  The excitement is just beginning.

l8r

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The trail from Maryland through New Jersey and New York was not a pleasant experience.  My frustration distracted me to the point that I forgot about taking pictures.  Rather than describe that agonizing portion of the adventure, we will skip ahead to better times.

As we left the city, I started to relax.  I think that was the effect of a beautiful, tree-lined parkway between the city and Connecticut.  Rather than have Jane try guiding us through that maze of big city streets with a map, we entered our destination into the GPS.  Not having the route marked on a map makes it difficult to recall the names of the routes we took.  But, looking back I can see that we were on Hutchinson River Parkway, Cross County Parkway, and Merritt Parkway.  I was surprised at how calming the drive was.  The worst was behind us.

The drive through Connecticut was fascinating.  It occurred to me that Connecticut is a retreat for New York’s wealthy.   We were only passing through, though we did spend a night in a Days Inn in Berlin.  The motel rate was very reasonable and it was After making a decision to see Vermont, we were anxious to start the tour.

Jane hadn’t organized this part of the adventure, so it was a bit disorganized.  We passed quickly through Massachusetts and stopped at the Vermont Tourist Information Center as we crossed the border.  Covered bridges was my first thought; covered bridges and “The Green Mountain Boys” of the Revolutionary War.  I like history and the old stuff.  Vermont is filled with both.

Did you know that Vermont was not one of the original 13 states?  I was shocked.  It seems there was a struggle between New Hampshire and New York for the property known as Vermont.  Great Britain’s award of the Vermont territory to New York led to Ethan Allen’s organization of a militia known as the Green Mountain Boys.  All the details are readily available on the internet.  I just found this bit of trivia too interesting to let pass.  Vermont became the 14th state in 1791.

We gathered brochures and information, leaving the interstate at Brattleboro in search of our first covered bridge.  We headed west on State Highway 9, the Molly Stark Trail.  This Scenic Byway is a main east-west route in southern Vermont; a historic trail followed by General John Stark on his way from New Hampshire to the Battle of Bennington during the Revolutionary War. 

Our first covered bridge was on the outer edge of Brattleboro.  I was disappointed.  I guess I had expected to find covered bridges isolated in rural areas.  This one was right on the Molly Stark Trail and surrounded by bright orange construction tape.  Unplanned surprises aren’t always happy happenings.

But there was a beautiful colonial home right across the road.  It got more of my attention than the bridge.  As a matter of fact, Vermont abounds with beautiful old homes and Americana. The flowers and gardens had Jane raving.  Around every curve, we were seeing more and more to like about Vermont.  It is so clean and pristine. And, there are no billboards.  Even the directional signs are minimal.  We found several more covered bridges that day but kept getting lost.  That’s not always a bad thing.  We saw and did things that otherwise we may have missed.  It wasn’t until I was preparing for this article that I realized how much we had missed.  Fail to plan; plan to fail. 

That brings me to a photography point that I would like to share.  Good pictures seldom “just happen.”  Like most anything else in life, there is that distressing element called organization.  I should have done a little more research on Vermont in general and covered bridges in particular.  My pictures sucked; and got rejected by my agencies.  You don’t just walk up and snap a picture.  That’s a “snapshot.”  It was obvious even to me.  I was not surprised by the rejection.

Covered bridges are so photogenic (and nostalgic) but they are so “over-photographed.”  Anything unique would require some imagination.  No thought was given to lighting or being there when it was best.  Concept is important.   What are you trying to convey?  Why are you taking this picture?  I had not really given it any thought.  I believe the thinking and planning is what separates travel photography and travel pictures. 

The only images I salvaged from that first bridge was a detail image of the lattice-work architecture and a snapshot of Jane on the bridge. 

Vermont had not been a part of the original plan.  We were only there because we had some time to kill before arriving for our schooner cruise in Maine, which Jane had planned.  She had left organizing the Vermont and New Hampshire tours to me.  The moral of this story is “be organized or have an organized person on your team.” 

Continuing on the Molly Stark Trail, we wandered through the Green Mountains and the Green Mountain National Forest.  We discovered Vermont Scenic Highway 100 and loosely followed it, heading northward toward Rutland.  We stopped for information about local points of interest and a brief tour of a Maple Syrup Museum.   We enjoyed the small, scenic villages as well as the beautiful green countryside. 

Traveling in New England is deceptive.  We are accustomed to travel in Texas and the Southwest.    Distance on New England travel maps is a much different scale, making it possible to see a lot more in a day.  We were tired upon our arrival at a motel in Rutland but surprised at how much we had seen.

The next day was more bridges.   Again, no specific plan.  Jane was directing me to the nearby bridges while I was thinking of Fort Ticonderoga, Lake Champlain, and the ski resorts in Stowe.  Somehow, we stumbled across the Morgan horse farm in Middlebury.  We arrived just a short while before the next guided tour.  We bought tickets for the  tour and wandered aimlessly, admiring the horses.  The history of the Morgan horse, the University of Vermont’s involvement, and seeing these beautiful animals make the detour well worth the time.  I love horses.  I would like to return and spend more time watching the students in the apprentice program train the horses.  

We left the Morgan Horse Farm and worked our way back to the Scenic Route 100, headed north.  I can’t remember why but we turned away from Lake Champlain and the historic area around Fort Ticonderoga.  For whatever reason, we worked our way to Montpelier.  From there, we took the shortcut across the mountains to Interstate 91.  We managed to get lost and plugged a motel address in Lyndonville into the GPS as our destination.  The GPS seemed to know where we were.  We didn’t.   It was rather exciting; and a little scary.  It was a very narrow, hilly, rough road.  The scenery was fantastic but I would not recommend this rural route for the average, four-passenger vehicle. 

The following day started our moose adventures.  I say started because the next several weeks we were either hunting moose, asking locals about moose or talking about places to try next.  The start was in the Northeastern part of Vermont know as the Northeast Kingdom, or, maybe it is North East Kingdom?  It is often referred to as NEK. 

We stopped in Island Pond, where we had been told moose were so plentiful that locals would not drive at night.  (With their long legs and massive size, car collisions with moose are much more dangerous than hitting a deer … or a bear.)  Island Pond is a resort located in the quaint town of Berlin.  It is surrounded by camp grounds and offers many seasonal outdoor activities.  Read more about it here. 

We stopped in the Island Pond Library and visited with the librarian who was very informative and helped us layout a tentative route to view moose.  From there, our circuitous route took us along State Route 105, through Silvio O. Conte National Fish and Wildlife Refuge Nulhegan Basin, up Route 102 (River Road) to the tiny town of Canaan, along the Canadian border to The Kingdom State Forest.  

We had seen a lot of moose habitat and signs of their presence but not a single moose.  A ranger at the wildlife refuge had given us several pointers on when and where to spot a moose.  We stayed excited along the entire drive and expected a sighting at nearly every bend.  We saw lots of bogs and moose wallows but no moose.   Highway construction deterred us as we made our way across the northern most parts of Vermont.  We gave up and turned south and west, deciding to head for Maine a few days early.

We crossed the Connecticut River into New Hampshire at Colebrook.  We stopped to picnic in a city park dedicated to Civil War heroes.  Checking our map, we found that we were on “Mohawk Road” and had just crossed the Daniel Webster Highway (US Route 3).  Civil War, the Revolutionary War, Daniel Webster, Mohawk and Iroquois culture; the place absolutely reeks of history. 

At this northern point, it is a short drive across New Hampshire.  We split from Route 26 and headed north on Route 16 around Umbagog Lake, crossing into Maine.  I don’t remember that we went through a town or village; we were just there, driving through areas that looked to be very sparsely populated.  After the fact, I figured that is a major logging area.  Moose Crossing warnings were every few miles.  I was a little surprised at how such an old area of the US was still so isolated.  We would drive miles seldom seeing another car and not much in the way of civilization. 

We made our way into Rangeley, a popular tourist destination on Rangeley Lake.  Worth noting is that it is the hometown of actor Kurt Russell.  And, a sign there lets you know that it is the halfway point between the Equator and the North Pole. 

It was mid-afternoon and we had done a lot of sightseeing.  We had planned to travel deeper into the Maine Moose Country.  We had a dilemma.   It was too early to stop but we were afraid to continue further into the boonies.  We had no plans for the evening.  Not know what lay ahead, we diverted south on Route 4 and settled for a motel in Farmington. 

After checking in, Jane pointed to an interesting photograph on the wall.  It was a moose.  I didn’t understand at first.  Then she pointed out that the picture was taken in the Motel Parking Lot!!! 

Tomorrow, we are heading for the coast.  We will hunt for lighthouses. 

l8r

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There was very little in the way of new or picturesque scenery until we crossed into Virginia.  I don’t intend to belittle any area of our country but we had seen most of this area many times and we were mostly restricted to interstate highways.  I did venture to a county park to shoot a buffalo herd during our stay in Memphis.  My original intent had been to add to my Canada Goose collection from the same park.  Enthusiasm just wasn’t there.  That is evident in this lackadaisical image of the buffalo.  Not a problem.  We visit Jane’s mother in Memphis fairly often.  The buffalo and the geese are always there.

Anyway, we left Bristol, Virginia after spending the night and decided to take the back roads – the Blue Ridge Parkway.  We needed to kill some time so that our arrival time would coincide with our daughter’s work schedule.  That was a good decision.  It was a relaxing drive and we came across the Mabry Grist Mill.  I love the old,  historical sites and this old mill was especially picturesque.  It was mid-day light but intermittent showers and partly cloudy skies softened the shadows.  The light was so nice that I got a little carried away and spent nearly two hours at the site. 

The detour also brought us in touch with the Appalachian Trail.  I was curious at the time and became fascinated with the Appalachians and the Appalachian Trail as we journeyed northward.  I knew of the trail but did not really know much about the trail.  It is more than 2,000 mile foot-journey along the backbone of American History, running from Georgia to northern Maine.  I won’t go into detail here but will offer this link for the more curious.

I had mentioned in the opening article of this series that I would be using a point-and-shoot camera for much of our trip.  I had the Sony DSC-W170 at the old mill but mostly used my Nikon mounted on a tripod.  I did, however, keep the Sony beside me in the car.  It is great for those times when you just pull off the side of the road for a quickie. 

After spending so much time at the mill site, we needed to get back to the interstate. I had a few quickie opportunities along the way.  This shot of a farm in those rolling hills is with the Sony.  It handled the light contrast very well and the grain (digital noise) is tight and barely noticeable.  The image was accepted by my stock site and has already made sales.  Though the sky looks washed out, a closer look will show that individual clouds are defined. 

There isn’t a lot that can be done as far as manual settings.  The menu does allow exposure compensation.  Mostly, I used the “Program” setting.  That setting allows me more selectivity in the Menu of adjustments.  In this case, I accepted the internal meter setting. 

We called before getting to our daughter’s place.  Disaster!!!  Her apartment had flooded and management had moved her to a hotel until it could be repaired.  That changed our plans.  Rather than hang around the DC area and watch her suffer, we decided to spend a night at the hotel, have breakfast together and arrive a bit earlier in New England.  We spent the next day cursing our way thru New Jersey and New York,

That part of the adventure will come in the next installment.  Stay tuned.

l8r

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My wife and I have just returned from an adventure that was 50 years in the making – our 50th Anniversary Tour.  My wife is the planner and organizer.  I’m a typical tourist.  When she suggested a cruise for our anniversary, I thought, “Great idea.  She gets to relax and enjoy life without cooking and keeping house.  I get to take pictures.”

It wasn’t exactly that way.  The cruise she was suggesting was on a 137 year-old wooden ship with few to no modern conveniences.  She had booked passage on an historical old schooner that would transport us to and through the islands off the coast of Maine, as well as some of the most scenic ports ever to be visited. 

That was just the beginning.  Our anniversary celebration lasted seven weeks with historic and cultural excursions through twelve states, mountains, oceans, coastlines, safe harbors, farmlands and a few irritatingly large cities,  Much of it was strictly spur-of-the-moment decisions.  Only the cruise and a leased cottage near Acadia National Park were pre-planned.

I can’t effectively cover the entire adventure in one post.  It would be much too long and, for some, bore you to tears.  I’ll break it into sections to please myself and give any readers the opportunity to pick and choose what to read and when.  Chronological order may seem the best approach.  But, remember, my wife is the organized one. 

As stated, this will be approached from a photographer’s point of view.  i will drop a few tips or provide references throughout.  I’ll mention right here that this article is especially relevant for photographers using “point-and-shoot” cameras.  A lot of what I have submitted to my stock agencies was shot with a Sony Cyber Shot, DSC-W170, 10.1 Mega Pixel camera that I carried around in my pocket. 

I bought this camera shortly before leaving for the cruise because I was afraid that the salt water would ruin my “Professional” equipment.  Man, did this baby perform.  My wife used the camera for the above picture of me in a canoe.   I love it.

Since our grandson spends summers with us, his return to the DC area was incorporated into our plans.  We decided that driving would provide the best opportunity to enjoy the history and culture of our nation’s birthplace, the East Coast and especially New England.  Besides, Dillon is seventeen.  He helped my drive through Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee and Virginia.  Parts of that section will be included in our adventure.

We will relax along the Blue Ridge Parkway; curse frantically along New Jersey and New York’s toll roads; recover along a calming, tree-covered Connecticut trail; see hardly any of Massachusetts; gape, open-mouthed at the beauty and cleanliness of our greenest state, Vermont. 

Hunting a moose will bring us into Maine a few days before our scheduled windjammer departure from Rockland, Maine.  The early arrival will allow us time to thrill at the plethora of lighthouses along our coastal shores, learn more about lobster men and the rugged life of fishing and fishermen;  step back in time as ancient airplanes and historic vehicles are on display and demonstrate their capabilities at the Owls Head Transportation Museum. 

We will document our six days of sailing on a strictly authentic schooner as we are offered the opportunity to learn sailing as hands-on crewmembers of this beautiful relic from our coastal history.  Our ship will follow no particular course as we let the wind lead us to the best harbor for the evening, or the most interesting of the thousands of islands along Maine’s coast. 

We will view much of Acadia National Park from the deck of our schooner and spend time ashore at our own lobster boil; gawk at the “cottages” of several of America’s wealthiest citizens and shop in quaint shops of Stonington, Maine on the ever popular Deer Isle.

We will spend another week in a small fishing cottage in Stonington, using that as headquarters as we explore Acadia National Park and eat lobster almost every day.  Jane will take in the local farmers market and we will see a movie in the hundred year old Stonington Opera House.

This already has gotten too long.  I will add pictures and anecdotes as we work our way around Moosehead Lake, the Catskills, Pennsylvania’s Amish Area and on to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  I promise something for everyone and a generous selection of images and photography techniques.  Please stay tuned for more on our great adventure.

l8r

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Wildflower season in Texas is waning.  The lack of rain left the bluebonnet crop lacking.  But the red flowers are brilliant.  The flowers seem to come in phases.  Bluebonnets and yucca lead the way.  Following the blue season is the red season; indian blanket, indian paint brush, red poppies and some stuff I can’t name.  Yellow follows the red season; daisies, sunflower, etc.

In a good season, photographers line the highways and tourism brings a smile to the faces of local business people.  Finding just the right (not already occupied) spot is a task.  There is a place, however, for photographers to get an entire season of wildflower photographs in one day.  The Wildseed Farms is on US290,  seven miles east of Fredericksburg.  Not only can you have free access to their gardens, you can buy seeds and plants for your own garden.  They also offer very artistic planters, pots, bird baths, water structures and decorative designs.

My wife has a new car.  We decided to take it for an old-fashioned Sunday drive.  She had never been to the Wildseed Farm and had always wanted to see the place … and shop.  She is really into gardening.  She absolutely loved it.  We spent several hours there; me taking pictures and her ooohing and ahhhhing, admiring the flowers and handling the trinkets.  She wanted something for her mother.  (Mother’s Day, you know)  She didn’t find that perfect gift but did buy several packages of seeds for our own gardens.

There are 200 acres of wild flowers in  various stages of development.  The shopping areas are central; you go through the shops to get to the flower trails.  There is no charge and it seems the flower gardens are laid out with photographers in mind.  Distractions and busy backgrounds are minimal.

We stopped in Fredericksburg for our Sunday drive lunch but could just as well have visited the Wildflower Farms’ Brewbonned Biergarden.  They serve some excellent sandwiches and offer a beautiful outdoor setting for enjoying your lunch and beverage.

There also is a live butterfly exhibit.  We will try it on our next visit.  There is a small fee.  It was four dollars  for seniors.  I can’t recall the other prices.  You can gather much more information at their website, including phone numbers and the hours.  The website is at:

http://www.wildseedfarms.com/

Maybe we can schedule this as a Photography Club outing.  I will propose the idea tonight at our monthly meeting.

l8r

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This week finds me pushing away from the “how to” stuff and just remembering how fortunate I have been.  My camera allowed me to be a part of one of the most exciting sports in the world – motocross.  It brought me close to super heroes and some of the zaniest characters ever.  One of my super heroes, David Bailey, was born December 31, 1961, in San Diego California.  In honor of his birthday, I’m dedicating this post to “The Icon.”

I first met David Bailey in Gaildorf, West Germany in September 1982.  He was rushed to Germany to replace Donnie Hansen on the US Motocross and Trophee des Nations Team.  Hansen was injured while practicing for these events.  The accident was essentially the end of his career and the beginning of David Bailey’s ascension to Super Hero status.  Ultimately, both riders were inducted into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame.

One of my first images of The Icon was less than flattering. It was right after the first moto of the Trophee des Nations and he was puking his guts out.  In the rush to replace Donnie Hansen, David was not allowed a lot of transition time.  He was exhausted from the unplanned trip, adapting to a new time zone and sleep (or lack of) schedule, and had just raced his heart out for Team USA.  Against the best motocross racers the world had to offer this hardly heard of American had just hung on for an eighth place finish, enough to place his team first going into the final race.  Certainly no shame in that well-earned puke.  :-) 

1982 was the year after the Americans won their first ever Motocross des Nations title and the same year that one of the zaniest, most revered motocrossers of all time won all four motos of the Motocross and Trophee des Nations, a never-before-accomplished feat.  And, it was to never again be accomplished.  But this is not about Magoo (Danny Chandler.)  It’s the Icon’s birthday.  :-)

After a brief recovery, Bailey went on to an even better finish in the second moto.  He was sixth.  The Americans clobbered the world, placing all four team members in the top ten of each moto and winning the Trophee des Nations Championship by 21 points.

The following week, the team was in Wohlen, Switzerland for the Motocross des Nations.  Europeans looked at the 250cc bikes (Trophee des Nations) as a training ground for the “real” championship – the 500cc Open Class.  Though the American team had also won the Motocross des Nations in 1981, it was still regarded as a fluke by the rest of the world.  Magoo won both “big bike” motos and David Bailey was even better than on the 250; he finished fourth in the first moto behind Danny Chandler, Andre Vromans and David Thorpe.  He beat everyone but Magoo in the second moto and the fluke continued. 

That team of David Bailey, Johnny O’Mara, Danny Chandler and Jim Gibson is on my list of Super Heroes.  Man, those guys could ride.

I later wrote an article about Jim Gibson and his move to Yamaha.  See the previous blog post for that article.  David Bailey won both 250cc Motocross and Supercross championships in 1983, as well as again beating the world’s best by winning  the 250 USGP in Unadilla.  He and Brian Myerscough had one of the hardest fought most exciting motocross races I have ever seen, with Bailey taking the championship by beating such notables as Georges Jobe, Danny LaPorte, and Heinz Kinigadner –  all of whom are former 250cc World Champions.

Danny Chandler made a mockery of the 500cc Support Class at that event, winning so easily that he finished riding backwards on his Honda.

Unfortunately, I never got to watch Johnny O’Mara race again, although he went on to assemble one of the most impressive motocross resumes in the history of the sport.  Man, those guys could ride.

Though an unfortunate crash in 1987 ended his racing career, David Bailey still is one of the most authoritative voices in our sport.  It was his open letter to the industry that finally convinced me to spend over $400 on a piece of safety equipment for my grandson.  It is fun to think of those David Bailey days when I watch my grandson ride.  I even have a few pictures of him that look a little like the Icon.

 To the Icon, I say, “Thanks for the memories and Happy Birthday.” 

l8r

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Several years ago, I was present for the release of some rehabilitated birds of prey back into the wild.  It was a thrilling event and I took some very up close pictures of wild things.  This image of a Red-tailed Hawk is one of my all-time favorites. 

The birds were released at DeGray Lake Resort State Park in Arkansas.  It was just by chance that we happened to be there.  I don’t remember the organization that provided the care and rehabilitation.  Most organizations that do such work are staffed by volunteers with any financial support coming  primarily from donations. 

 When my wife read about a bird of prey release scheduled for our local area, I could hardly wait to confirm our reservations.  It was taking place in conjunction with a weekend cruise on our local lake.  The Vanishing Texas River Cruise is something we had talked about but never quite got around to doing. 

Last Chance Forever, The Bird of Prey Conservancy is a 501(C)(3) Non-Profit organization based in San Antonio, Texas that receives, rehabilitates and releases back into the wild hundreds of sick, injured and orphaned raptors annually.  On Sunday, November 16, 2008, the conservancy joined with Vanishing Texas River Cruises to release two hawks and an owl over Lake Buchanan.  The joint venture was a great success for the cruise and for the conservancy.  And, it was the answer to a photographer’s dream.  It was very exciting to be so close to these wild and beautiful critters.

This Great Horned Owl is being very carefully handled as it is brought above deck for release in the Silver Creek area of Lake Buchanan.  These animals are wild and very frightened by the commotion around them.  They will strike out at what they perceive is danger.  It is essential that photographers and children keep their distance. 

It is quite easy, however, to get great closeups with a short telephoto lens or the zoom on a point-and-shoot compact.  With so many excited people crowded around these frightened animals, a longer lens and a lower angle are necessary to give the appearance of birds in the wild.  Since the release takes place on the upper deck, a fast shutter speed is not a problem and the sky is the perfect background.

In addition to the three birds being released, the workers from the conservancy displayed several birds that for any of several reasons could not be released.  My personal favorite was this beautiful Barbary Falcon.  i have always been fascinated by falcons and falconry.  It is hard to believe that such delicate beauty surrounds a fierce killing machine.  I was disappointed that it was not to be released.  I don’t recall the reason. 

The big thrill was an American Bald Eagle that had been shot and lost a part of its wing.  Though the eagle has lived in the conservancy’s large flight aviary for more than five years it is anything but tame.   It was saved for last and was not allowed in close proximity of the passengers.  The handler moved to a place on the docking pier that allowed her to keep the eagle away from the too curious and less cautious.  I’m sure the eagle appreciated that consideration.

in addition to the birds being displayed by Last Chance Forever, the folks from Vanishing Texas River Cruise kept a running commentary on what we were seeing with a quite interesting history of Lake Buchanan and a few yarns spun around a few colorful characters. 

Though the release of rehabilitated birds was a special treat, the river cruises are scheduled on a regular basis.  They often see eagles over the lake and have experts on board to point out and identify wildlife around the lake.  We were fortunate on our cruise, seeing a pair of bald eagles building a nest in a dead tree over the lake.  It was a very pleasant day.  It is wonderful way to spend a weekend  relaxing.  in addition to the cruises, cabins and lodging are available at Canyon of the Eagles Resort.

The next release in conjunction with the Vanishing Texas River Cruise is tentatively scheduled for the third weekend in December.  For more information and cruise schedule contact Vanishing Texas River Cruises – at Canyon of the Eagles at 1-512-756-6986 or 1-800-474-8374.  Their website is http://www.vtrc.com/   Last Chance Forever, The Bird of Prey Conservancy maintains a website at http://www.lastchanceforever.org/

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My enthusiasm for rock formations is fading. That may be from over a month of studying Southwestern geology or the constant battle with persistent haze over the Southwestern geology.

I’ve been processing a few images in HDR to circumvent the problem. That works to a certain extent but my HDR expertise needs honing. I can’t resist the urge to pump up the color. This picture is from the overlook at the Canyonlands National Park Visitor Center. It is not an HDR but I pushed pretty hard on the contrast button. Notice the snow capped mountain peaks in the background. It gets very cool in the high desert at night.

Note: I read a sign posted by the Park Service that directly blames the haze on coal-burning power generating stations. It is the worst when winds are from the Southeast – Page, AZ.

We’re camped in Dead Horse Point State Park. There is a very scenic overlook that is fantastic for both morning and evening light. Getting a good spot for pictures at Dead Horse Point requires an early arrival and patience. It is a very popular spot. We didn’t get back from Canyonlands in time to enjoy the early part of sunset but did manage a few colorful images from the red evening light. Although it looks like an HDR, this image of the red light on a twisted juniper is purely photograph with just a touch of shadow lightening.

I returned for a morning session and was there just at sunrise. The place was already crowded. I moved off to one side, edging along some treacherous cliffs and overhangs that I would not have been allowed to traverse had Jane been with me.     I found a soft rock and cuddled up with myself to stay warm until the light was just right.

The light and colors can be very contrasty. But, it also is very saturated and warm. It is the ideal situation for HDR with long shadows and extreme contrast. Mine were not perfect but the HDR skills are coming along. The image I liked best, however, was not an HDR but this self-portrait. Shooting with my 12~24 lens, I was having a hard time keeping my shadow out of the image. Finally I gave up and just included the shadow as a part of the picture. Now, it isn’t just a part … it is the picture.  

I realize that I have nearly completed this article and not included an HDR example. Here is one from this morning’s shoot at Dead Horse Point. As I said, it isn’t perfect but sometimes a poor image is better for learning. At least I hope I am learning from my mistakes. 

HDR of Dead Horse Point Sunrise

This image is the result of three exposures bracketed at two stop intervals– two over, two under and one right on. I did some processing in Photoshop Elements but can’t remember exactly what I did. I think I just lightened the shadows and added the unsharp mask to enhance the foreground tree. The HDR processing was done in Dynamic-Photo HDR, selecting the “Human Eye” version of the tone-mapping result. As usual, I liked the image immediately after processing (otherwise I would not have saved it), but started to find fault after a few “second looks.” I’ve learned from my mistakes that it is a good idea to put your favorites aside for a few minutes, hours, days – forever – and come back later for a more objective evaluation. I need to be more diligent in practicing what I preach.  

We’ve had an interesting and exciting voyage to this point. My lack of enthusiasm for early morning photography, however, is an indication that we should head back to Texas. We’ll return any budget excess to the coffers and start planning the next adventure. Wonder what Montana geology is like? 
l8r

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We drove into Moab on Monday, October 6. Jane needed to restock the cupboard and the truck was on empty. What a place – Moab is purely tourism. You can find outfitters and tour guides for nearly any adventure imaginable. Four-wheel drive, overland adventures into the outback areas of Canyonlands or Arches National Parks, four-day float trips down the Colorado River, hikes into the wildest of areas, and the snow-covered peaks hovering over Moab had local businesses yearning for ski season. Mountain biking and dirt bike adventures are also quite popular in this vast area of Public Lands. The BLM has some restrictions on the use of land managed by them but nothing nearly as stringent as the National Park Service.

We found a grocery store, filled the truck with diesel and visited the Moab Visitor Center. It was there that we learned of a nearby wetland preserve. Who would have guessed it? Here we are in the highest and driest areas of the US and we come across wetlands. Jane got directions to the Scott M. Matheson Wetland Preserve. We managed to miss the turnoff and ventured even further into the unknown. We were on a paved road leading through BLM property. We stopped at a trailhead/picnic area that had some of the best petroglyphs we have seen.

A few campers came by and, being the curious type, we followed their backtrack to see if we were missing a hidden campsite. That led us to some of the most “alternative” living styles you can imagine. People were living in caves dug back into the limestone cliffs. There were two homes that were almost exact replicas of Anasazi ruins. The masonry was a little more modern but the design was directly from ancient cliff dwellings, no roof other than the overhanging cliff. One odd feature – they were connected to commercial power lines. Even the cave dwellers had electricity.

We found the wetlands preserve on our second attempt. It was nice. We followed a one-mile, handicap-accessible path through the preserve, stopping at a nice viewing blind, but saw very little in the way of wetlands wildlife. We had been told that water was scarce. It was just too dry for the critters we had hoped to see.

We left there and drove back to Arches National Park, which is less than ten miles from Moab. The roads were being paved with fresh tar and white gravel. Only one lane was open and traffic was backed up waiting for an escort. It was a little annoying but no big deal. We’re always complaining about road conditions. It seems silly to complain about repairing those conditions. 

Arches has a nice Visitor Center and Museum. We walked through the museum and watched the orientation movie. The steep climb from the Visitor Center to the first view point is a scenic drive but too narrow to pulloff.

Balanced Rock, Arches National Park

We didn’t make our first stop until we reached Balanced Rock. There is a picnic area just across from this very popular viewpoint. We stopped for lunch and I tried using my polarizing filter to cut thru the haze for an image of the snow-capped peaks of the La Sal Mountains behind Balanced Rock. Back lighting made the haze even more evident. It took some Photoshop adjustments to make this image acceptable.

The history and legends of the area interest me more than geology and lectures on how millions of years of upheaval and erosion formed the canyons and arches. Delicate Arch, however, is a must-see site. It is the unofficial symbol of Utah.

Delicate Arch, Arches National Park

This image was made from the most accessible and easy to reach viewpoint I could find. It is just a short walk from the historic Wolfe Ranch site. Unlike most images of the arch, I made no attempt at an artistic representation. This is what it is – a popular site that is always difficult to photograph because of the throngs trying to get close. You can just make out dozens of people walking along a trail that leads to the “best view” of the arch. This shot is with my 18~135mm lens set to 135mm. I got closer and used my 300mm for a tight shot. I like this one better.

I probably spent more time reading about and photographing the old buildings and corral at Wolfe Ranch than I did at Delicate Arch.

Historic Wolfe Ranch in Arches National Park

It is the typical story of how this area was settled by ranchers and pioneers. They were the rugged sort, not expectant of any luxuries. Every element of their lives was functional, practical, and only what they could make with their own two hands. The house shown here is much nicer than the original home of Wolfe and his son. This was built to please his daughter who joined Wolfe after he and his son established the ranch. The original home was a hole in the ground with a thatch, mud and rock roof. This house has a window, hinged door and roughly hewn furniture.

We had hoped to make it to the end of the road and hike the trail to Landscape Arch from the Devil’s Garden turnaround. We did but the sun was on the wrong side of Landscape Arch and had dropped behind some tall cliffs. The images were disappointing. This arch needs to be photographed much earlier.  Sunrise would be best; no later than noon, I think.

It was well after dark when we got back to the trailer. It had been a long but interesting day. We went to bed wondering what a new dawn would bring.
l8r

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I finally made the enormous effort necessary to match morning light and photography. I was at the East Gate of Zion National Park before sunrise. It was cold. And I was not feeling very creative. I sat my tripod and camera in the general area to photograph Checkerboard Mesa when the sun came over the ridge to the east, then jumped back into the truck to stay warm. The sun didn’t cooperate. Somebody moved East!  

After watching the sun strike formations farther down the canyon, I snapped a few pictures of the famous mesa and loaded everything back into the truck. The light was not special. I missed that pink, rosy effect of morning light. I guess the mountain air is just too clear.  Even morning light was harsh.

We have been here for three days. Every day has been marvelous for site seeing but none of my pictures have been thrilling. I thought it was from doing most of our site seeing in midday light. Obviously, that is not the entire problem. Zion is just too vast to project in two dimensions. As a matter of fact, the entire Southwest trip has been like that – Monument Valley, Canyon de Chelly, and Grand Canyon. The vastness of the American Southwest overwhelms most photographers. I’m no exception. Everything looks like a common snapshot. I don’t want snapshots. I have tried panoramas but that format is clumsy to display and hard to edit. And, it still doesn’t display the immensity or the feel of grandeur.

I watched a show last night on the Red Desert, the high desert of Wyoming. You can span the horizon for hours and see nothing. Of course, the desert is teeming with life. Throughout the deserts, plains, mesas, buttes, plateaus, peaks, canyons, mountains and valleys of this great southwest, life is watching us see nothingness. It is that perception of nothingness or the vastness that is so difficult to represent on film – or in digits. I’m thinking I need to get closer, concentrate on detail – contradict the perception of nothingness.

I was concentrating on the texture of some huge boulders with steep cliffs as a background when movement distracted me. Big Horn Sheep!

Young Desert Big Horn in Zion National Park

They were just a few yards away but I was working with my 12~24 lens. I watched for a few minutes, hoping they would not notice me. That was no big deal. Cars began stopping and the big ram and a slightly smaller one bounded up the slope but the females stayed right by the edge of the road, eating leaves off a favorite bush. The rams stood higher on the hill, watching.

Note: The ram shown in the picture is the smaller of the two. I had already inserted the photo before noticing the difference.

I crossed the road to get my 300mm lens out of the truck. The herd remained near the edge of the road for at least fifteen minutes. I took dozens of photos — up close with detail. Again, my pictures are not thrilling. These are wild things; a part of the grandeur, the nothingness, the vastness. I don’t get that feeling from my photographs. They seem to have learned to accept tourism as a part of their daily life. It’s almost like going to the zoo. I don’t know if it is sad or if I should be glad that they are so adaptive. I guess that is part of my enigma.

This time, however, light really is part of the problem. I have some sharply focused and well-composed images but the light is dull. They were in a dark, shaded area the entire time. Maybe I need to learn to adapt.

We may try again tomorrow. My wife was very envious when she found that she had missed the Big Horn. They are not nearly as elusive as the park literature reported.
l8r

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