Country Roads: Remembering When

 Can't say I've ever been lost while driving around on Kentucky's country roads, but I've sure been turned around real good. That's the nature of the country roads that weave and turn and crossover each other around here. Road names change at just about every crossroads and sometimes they regroup a few miles further down and revert back to the original name. Once I figured out this seemingly lack of planning, I became more comfortable exploring and seeking out the almost never ending photographic opportunities that abound within this Americana windfall.

I actually love driving around backroads. Most of the time I tend to drive slowly stopping ever so often to take a closer look at the historical evidence of times past. That's where the most interesting photo ops can be found. Sometimes I look for something specific, most times I just wing it and let the nature of the moment reveal itself. Regardless, what catches my attention the most, are the rustic flavors that can only be found away from the beaten path. I especially like old fence rows and old barns. 

The ones that cause me to slam on the brakes are the ones where a crop of some kind like cornfields and especially wheat fields converge alongside one of those old fences or barns.

Although I drive around most anytime of day, as with other forms of photography the best times to capture an interesting photograph are early and late in the day. During the summer fog will often greet the morning air and linger well into the later hours before noon. Catch it with a cool or warm sunrise and the sky will often turn pink or orange or red accented with blues and pastels. 

On occasion I'll find an interesting subject and make a note of where it is. Stopping for a while I will explore the possibilities identifying where the sun will rise or set or what it might look like on an overcast day or during a rainy day. I've returned to locations multiple times knowing there is a photo op just waiting to develop. Two, three and sometimes four times it takes before I catch it right, like one of my favorite photos of a mid-October morning overlooking the bottoms along Barren River. 

I knew the sun and fog would converge inside that bottom land if I timed it right. It took several attempts for it to do so, but the effort paid off handsomely. 

Driving the country roads is a year round adventure. I drive a 4x4 Jeep for one main reason; so I can traverse snow covered roads, or rough terrain. I've never been stuck driving that old Jeep. (By the way, it has surpassed 300,000 miles with a little help and upgrades from time to time. It just might outlive me.) Snow days are the best for that blanket of white turns a mundane ordinary looking scene into a winter wonderland and a photographers delight.

As with any outdoor photography, light is the key and the contrasts of warmth and cold are best captured at sundown. Even so, sunrise can often provide a similar contrast especially when an artic blast invades and chills the air to the point where nose hairs grow stiff with each breath. That contrast of artic air, hot sun rising, and a landscape attempting to retain its natural warmth often produces some of the very best country road morning scenes.

The trick to discovering great photo ops while driving down country roads is to be able to identify the potential in a scene even when at the moment you see it, the light may be flat or off and uninteresting. Knowing where the sun will rise, keeping tabs on the weather and potential cloud cover, even the prevailing wind can often lead you toward discovering something truly unique from what is otherwise an ordinary looking opportunity. 

The fall season is often one of the best as the sun has by then dropped lower in the sky and shadows grow longer with each day. Identifying a good location in the off season(s) then returning to it when the conditions are right can produce a satisfying reward visually and photographically. 

Kentucky backroads possess a wonderful Americana feel to them. There are numerous small towns that still retain that old time look and feel to them. The rural scenes seem to stretch across the landscape like a Kincaid painting placing you the art critic inside the real world artistry of the small town, rural American culture. It's a culture that oddly enough is beginning to fade somewhat as cities grow too large for the available housing space and developers buy up land and turn that land into housing additions. I've seen more of this than I care to see. I have photo's I've taken over the years of old barns and locations that are no longer standing or are now filled with homes. 

This old barn was torn down a few years
after this image was taken

It's sad in a way because other than complain, there's not much I as an individual can do about it. Maybe that's why the photographs I've taken over the years just might possess an important nostalgic look to them someday. "I can remember when" are sad words really, because they imply the loss of something important that can no longer be found. Remembering when before its gone just may be as important or maybe even more so, than when its too late.

Beyond The Campfire - What's Instore for this Channel in 2023...(Updated...)

 Well, 2022 is winding down with another 6 or 7 weeks or so to go until the new year begins. The winter season is upon us all of a sudden like. Seems summer just sort of lingered along biding its time, then all of a sudden it turned cold. The fall season for 2022 turned out to be a pretty good and colorful season here in Kentucky. The colors were about as good as they get, but came earlier than expected. 

With the year winding down, I still have some photography pursuits I hope to accomplish before the year is out. Most of those will probably extend over into the new year. So, what's coming up for 2023 for this channel?

I plan on doing more wildlife photography. It's a kind of photography I've done somewhat to a lesser degree than I should, so 2023 will see me getting out more pursuing the local wildlife. Birds of course are always fun to capture, but I want to be able to photograph a wider variety of critters employing stealth to gain closer perspectives and to employ better and exciting photography/videography techniques. Looks to be a challenge, but I'm ready to get out there.

I will be doing a good amount of canoeing on Barren River Lake, mostly during the summer months when the wind moderates. It's a beautiful lake that snakes its way across south central Kentucky. I've managed a few overnight and multi-day canoe camping trips just to check out the possibilities and was excited about what I discovered. Looking forward to making more of these kinds of adventures.

I'm planning on a multi day canoe adventure where I hope to make a circumnavigation of the lake, about 140 miles all the way around. Probably won't paddle that many miles, but will attempt to cover extended stretches, especially in the Peters Creek area. These attempts will include a lot of video footage that will be incorporated into a Beyond The Campfire Video Production series. Been working on a project idea called "From the Water's Edge". It's a long term project where I photograph the scenic beauty of Barren River Lake from inside my canoe. Still working out the logistics for this one, but I'm exited about the possibilities.

Next fall season I will again be making multiday backpacking trips into the Mammoth Cave NP backcountry. This is an under-utilized resource and offers a fantastic backcountry adventure. The limiting factor here will be my bothersome hip. The doctor says I've got some arthritis in there along with some other issues. Hasn't prevented me from getting out, but does slow me down and limits the intensity of what I can do physically, but I'm still going.

The end of 2022 and into January of 2023, I will be making a trip(s) up to Seymour Indiana to chase after those amazing Sandhill Cranes. Will be checking out Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area and other locations in that area where upwards to 40,000 Sandhill winter over. It's a grand site indeed to witness a huge flock of them wing their way across the landscape at daybreak or returning to their roost at sundown.

Shanty Hollow is always a destination and I will again be doing some hiking/photography trips into that area especially during the spring when the waterfall is at its peak flow. Plan on canoeing over there as well to explore some of the wildlife opportunities.

As I mentioned previously, wildlife photography will take on a larger percentage of my photographic attempts. Doing so will also dictate employing techniques that will hopefully place me in close proximity to the wildlife. I will be gathering some road-kill to use as bait in the fields behind where I live. With any luck at all, I may be able to attract birds of prey and vultures, possibly even coyotes or fox. Deer of course are abundant in the area and provide for a ready photographic resource.

So, I'll have a full year ahead of me. Certainly there will be spur-of-the-moment opportunities and setbacks. The plan is to expand and improve on the Adventure Photography video series within the Beyond The Campfire framework. A lot of work for sure, but something I have been working on for several years now. So, I'm excited to get started and to share these adventures as Beyond The Campfire video productions. Come join me and share the videos! Even better, see ya out there!

A Chilly Day on Kentucky's Barren River Lake - Photographing Gulls, Killdeer, and Bald Eagles

There was a bite to the wind on that November morning as a cold front had carried artic air into the region where it lingered like a chilled blanket over the landscape far longer than Kentucky would normally experience this time of year. Thanksgiving, still about a week away, was but an anticipation still to happen, but in the meantime I needed to get out for a while and exercise my legs and my camera.

The alarm sounded much too soon and with blurry eyes, I stared at it with a disgruntled disposition not believing it was already time to get up. But, it was, and I did, for I wanted to catch the sunrise as it bathed the farm country near Lucas.

My plan was to see how the sunrise might develop, then work across The Narrows to see if the gulls I had encountered the day before were still there and close enough to effectively photograph. The sunrise was better than I had hoped for as it climbed above the horizon appearing between a silo and a farm house. My hands grew numb as I waited for it, the wind cutting well into the inadequate gloves I wore. 

Even so, as the sunrise developed, I fired off a number of photo's and felt good about the results. I stopped shooting when the cold air numbed the end of my trigger finger enough to where I could no longer feel it. By the time I rolled into the parking area above the marina at the end of The Narrows peninsula, I had warmed up enough to use my binoculars to survey the lake.

There were some gulls, but they were far off, too far in fact to be able to photograph. I waited a short  while to see if they might migrate closer in, but they seemed content to stay well out on the lake.

This part of the lake is perhaps the most scenic with tall trees lining the edges of the lake. The Corp of Engineers drops the lake level about 25 feet or so during the winter and by doing so exposes the sharp contrasts of gravel beaches and rocky drop offs creating a beautiful almost canyon-like appearance. Fog and morning mist will often hover over protected areas where the wind doesn't affect its development. Across the way you can see an odd dark line that reaches about 1/3rd of the way up the tree line and wraps its way all the way around the visible shore. My guess is that dark line is the result of very high water levels from years past as I have other photo's taken several years ago that show that same line.

From what I can gather, there are three species of gulls that winter over in Kentucky; the Herring Gull which is the most common, The Ring-Billed Gull which is very common, and Bonaparte's Gull which turned out to be the most common one I photographed on this outing. There is a fourth one that is very rare but has been seen this far east and that is The Franklin's Gull.

Herring Gull

 I ended up moving on backtracking to the access road and working my way over to a location at the end of that crumbling road. This is really a beautiful location and it was here I discovered a good number of gulls, several hundred in fact, maybe upwards to 500. They drifted here and there circling and darting, then diving head first into the water to chase a tasty morsel. You could follow where the schools of bait fish were by where the gulls were congregating.

Bonaparte's Gull

I walked the 100 yards or so to the waters edge and sat next to an old cedar log. To my right was a long point of gravel beach that extended a good ways into the water. 

On its front edge several Killdeer were strutting around making their distinctive high pitched call. I could not get very close to them as they were quite jumpy so I made several long range photos and a few video clips of their antics. I sat there for a couple of hours enduring the cold wind that was blowing directly into my face. A good number of gulls drifted by, but way off across the open water several hundred gulls congregated along a gravel beach. 

Ever so often they would rise up and fly around only to return to their roost within a minute or two. That collective flight was fun to watch. While doing so, I noticed two large birds drifting along up high just above where those gulls congregated. A quick look through my lens revealed they were two Bald Eagles...and they were drifting toward me.

I began to fire off photo after photo and without noticing it, I caught them as they drifted near the pale moon almost hidden in the bright sky. Eventually, they came almost directly overhead. Amazing birds they are, bold, majestic, confident, striking against the sky.

In time they drifted off and eventually I returned to my Jeep for a snack and a warm cup of coffee. While sitting there I noticed what I thought was a coyote running across the sloping rocky bank to my right. With my binoculars I identified it as a red fox...with another domestic dog chasing him. The fox out ran the dog, darted over a fallen tree trunk, and left the other dog behind who trotted off retracing his steps. No photos, but it was fun to watch.

Further around that embankment, I noticed a good number of gulls swirling and diving just off the bank. It was good walk over there, maybe somewhat less than a half mile, but I walked across a frozen mud flat, up a rocky bank, and down to the waters edge where I gained a great vantage point for photographing those gulls. Spent over an hour there until the bait fish moved into deeper water and the gulls followed them. Before they all drifted off, a good number of them moved to my left where they were backlit by the bright sun. It was then I captured my personal favorite from the day. 

It is a simple composition with a gull drifting with outstretched wings highlighted and backlit by the sun, all against the dark, shaded distant embankment. It's the simplicity of the image that makes it my favorite.

The time passed by quickly and even though it was quite chilly, I really did not feel the cold so much. Watching and experiencing these birds as they effortlessly glided across the sky warmed my insides where the cold did not make any difference. I did manage to shoot a few video clips and along with some still photo's created a short video commemorating this fun shoot. Please enjoy.

Backpacking Mammoth Cave NP: Echo's From Times Past - Something Strange Happened While Camping Next to an Old Cemetery

 It was a faint sound at first almost drowned out by the wind that swirled through the tops of the massive ancient trees. I did hear it, a distant, indistinct laughing that seemed to emanate from all around not coming from any particular direction. At random, it would echo across and through the woodland blending with the wind. It was the faint and distant sound of a child playing and laughing, yet there was nothing visible to see. Did it have any connection to the old Miles-Davis cemetery?

My adventure began as an idea to make another photography/videography trip into the backcountry of Mammoth Cave National Park. This time around, I was going to stay for three days and two nights with the intent of spending the entire three days at my favorite location known as "The Bluffs". 

As it turned out when I arrived at the park headquarters to get my backcountry permit, The Bluffs area was already booked for the first night I was going to stay there. Instead I opted to reserve one night at Sal Hollow, and spend the second night at the Bluffs. To get to Sal Hollow required taking a short alternate route, branching off the Buffalo Creek Trail, which added another mile and a half or so to my hike. The cut off to that trail was located close to the Bluffs side trail cut off.

Somehow or another, I missed the cutoff turn to Sal Hollow. How this happened I'm not sure because it is pretty obvious where the trail connects with the Buffalo Creek trail. I just simply walked right past it without seeing it, and this is why I ended up at the old cemetery. By the time I realized what had happened, my troublesome hip was hurting and my legs were a bit tired and my desire to backtrack and continue hiking down to Sal Hollow had pretty much evaporated.

Leaning against a corner fence post, I stood at the entrance to the cemetery and surveyed the 1/4 acre or so of headstones most of which appeared to be heavily weathered. I chose at that time not to take a closer look at this well kept plot of land. It was clean, not overgrown, and possessed a peaceful, rustic value all its own and I thought the light would be better later in the day to capture a few photos within its boundaries. Before moving on, I looked at the map and realized my mistake of missing the turn, then sighed as my rebellious hip dictated against any further heavy hiking for the day, so I decided to setup camp near the cemetery.

Even though the area is not a designated campsite, I thought it would be okay to stay there for the afternoon and one evening and I found a nice flat area off in the woods, a few yards in front of the cemetery and pitched my tent. A thick layer of leaves provided a soft cushion however, a burn ban was in effect so no fires were allowed. I would not have created one anyway as it was much too windy to be safe with all those leaves blowing around. That's why I always pack my venerable Coleman Peak 1 packer stove.

Throughout the afternoon I meandered around the area looking for photo ops snapping pictures here and there. The wind worked the tops of the trees pretty much all day, and with each gust hundreds of leaves would spin across and fall onto the woodland floor like a work of leaf art showcasing various shades of brown, red, and yellow snow. It was this canopy of color that caught my attention photographically and I spent a lot of time and covered a lot of ground simply looking up to find suitable compositions on high. 

It was during this time I began to hear the laughter of a small child off in the distance. At first I wasn't sure of what I was hearing. It was a tiny, subtle, yet happy voice really, one that seemed somewhat distant, yet hauntingly real and innocent. What was troubling about it was, just how haunting it sounded for it seemed to flow across and through the woods not coming from any particular direction. It seemed to emanate from all around like it was a part of the ambient atmosphere. There was no real pattern to it as it occurred at random times ever so often. I'd be working the camera and hear it again as slightly more than a whisper, but distinct, almost like it was trying to catch my attention without being too obvious.

I really did not think too much about it at first, yet I would turn my head trying to pinpoint from where it was coming, but mostly I simply explored the surrounding woods looking for photo opportunities. Over the next hour or so, I continued to look for photographic opportunities and as the afternoon progressed, the laughter continued to randomly occur, yet it became more prominent, a more distinct echo through the woods. Eventually, I made it back to the cemetery and this time I stepped into it to take a closer look at the headstones. 

To my dismay, many of the headstones were carved with the names, birth dates, and death dates...of young children.

A chill ran through my spine as I read a few of the inscriptions; 

William J. 

Son of R and E Davis

Born Sept 12, 1861 

Died Aug 14, 1864.

I stepped over to another one of an adult;

J N Miles

Born Aug 1, 1847

                                                           Died Oct 27, 1886

I continued on to several others a few of which told the sad stories of just babies who were no more than a few weeks old. Many of the headstones were simple stones with no markings on them and appeared to have been taken from the surrounding area and placed as a simple memorial to mark the grave of someone. There were headstones marking the lives of wives and husbands, but the most sad ones were the ones of infant sons and daughters of which there were several. This small plot of sacred earth spoke of the struggles those who tried to tame this rugged land must have endured.

Eventually, I continued on, looking for a composition to photograph, but randomly through the afternoon up until almost dark, I kept hearing that child's laughter in the background. I guess through the afternoon I must have heard it at least 8 or 10 times, maybe more. 

Eventually, I discovered what appeared to be the foundation of an old cabin consisting of large squared off boulders taken from the surrounding landscape. The structure itself was long gone, but the foundation was unmistakable. I figured it must have belonged to some early homesteaders from long ago. While there, I again heard the soft laughter and I wondered what connection this old cabin had with the names of those from the cemetery.

Not being someone who is prone to over play his hand or allow his imagination run away, I tried to convince myself it was just the wind rubbing tree limbs together, but the laughter of a small child sounded so real, yet far off and so dream-like, I had a difficult time reconciling what I was experiencing. Later that night as I lay inside the tent reading a true adventure book, I subconsciously listened for something that may be related to the sounds, but can not for sure say I heard anything except possibly for one faint, remnant laugh of a child playing off in the distance. In time, I drifted off to sleep as the wind continued to blow across the trees through the night.

The next day began as a routine breaking camp morning; a quick oatmeal breakfast, tearing down the tent, packing away the gear, then the short hike out to the junction trail that would take me to The Buffs area. The wind continued to blow throughout the chilly day. While I was setting up camp at the new location, a time or two I thought I heard that laughter again, way off and even fainter than before...coming from the direction of the cemetery which was maybe a half mile or so away as the crow flies over the other side of the ridge. 

The rest of the second day was uneventful and my thoughts were consumed with searching for photographs, making video clips, and resting my troublesome hip. By that evening, I was pretty tired and called it an early day. 

As I lay in my tent that second evening reading, just after dark, I heard what was the most chilling and heart stopping sound of the entire trip. The best I can describe, it sounded like a very loud screeching / hollowing, that lasted about six or seven seconds, followed by some faint rustling of leaves and cracking of small branches, the sound of movement, across the ravine like something was walking over there. Then all was quiet except for the breeze that still moved across the trees, and it never happened again occurring only that one time. Even so, with the events of the previous day still fresh in my mind, it was an eye opening sound, one in all my years of camping in the woods, I had never heard before. 

The next day was spent hiking back to the real world. All the while as I was walking down the trail, I listened for that child's laughter, but never again did it materialize, just the sound made by the continuing wind cutting across the trees and a few birds singing a cheerful song. 

With each step, and during each rest stop, I pondered about the lives of those who were buried in that cemetery, especially those of the children. Who were they really, and what heartaches did they endure? 

What was the sound I heard? I'm not sure, but it sounded like a small child playing and laughing. Maybe it was just the wind...but maybe...just maybe...it was a haunting echo from times past.