Behind the Scenes - How the Photo was Made: Canoe Sunrise on Shanty Hollow

 If I were to choose my top five photos, this one would certainly be included in that list; Canoe Sunrise on Shanty Hollow. The story behind how this photo was captured always takes me back to one of the most memorable moments lived while exploring one of my favorite places, Shanty Hollow.

Shanty Hollow is about a 120 acre lake situated in northern Warren County in Kentucky. Surrounded by woodland rustic hills, covered in cedar, pine, and hardwoods, it retains a northern boundary waters atmosphere. There are hiking trails and a 60 foot waterfall tucked into the apex of a rock-walled ravine. 

Considering how relatively small the area, it is perhaps the most scenic of locations I've ever photographed. Year round it possesses a charm and exotic flavor to it that many much larger and expansive locations lack.

The canoe sunrise photo was made during a year long project I was exploring back in 2010-2011. Back then I was shooting with my old, but venerable Sony A100 camera. By today's standards, it is obsolete, but some of the best photos I've ever made were taken using that camera...many of them using a basic 18-50mm kit lense, Canoe Sunrise being one of them. How it came about required a great deal of forethought and a willingness to rise very early.

Shanty Hollow is about a 45 minute drive from my home. To position myself in the best location required I have my canoe gear pre-loaded on my Jeep and camera gear ready to go. That morning, I arose several hours before daylight, made the drive, off loaded the canoe, loaded the camera gear, and paddled in the dark the half mile or so to the far end of the lake where it opened up into a wider expanse with an unobstructed view of the sun rising above the eastern side of the lake. 

Paddling a canoe across a lake in the dark is a surreal experience for there is no sensation of movement. Above, the sky cast a faint star-lit glow across the lake and I could just barely make out the shape of the hills on either side. The lake was perfectly calm, no wind, no breeze, no sound except for the slight swirl from the paddle as it propelled me forward. A few bats still dipped and darted across the lake searching for a last meal before retiring into their lairs. A few of them whizzed by so close I could hear their wings whooshing through the air.

I arrived at the far end of the lake and turned to the west and drifted toward the dam. Only a very slight glow outlined the eastern side. Some fog drifted across the water barely moving in the calm air. Before long, that distant glow grew stronger and I tried to take a quick photo, but the light was just to faint, so I simply waited and enjoyed the moment. As the ridgeline grew more distinct with the backlit glow, the fog began to rise almost straight up. One mass of fog hovered a few yards above the water across the far side and the sunrise glow began to illuminate it from within which outlined the ridge line by its warm glow and was reflected on the calm surface of the lake.

I needed the canoe to be perfectly still and pointed directly at the sunrise. Using the paddle I gently nudged the canoe into position and waited for the ripples to dissipate. With no breeze, it remained motionless. I raised the camera, adjusted the composition by aligning the bow of the canoe to be perfectly centered, and fired off a couple of quick shots. What I saw on the view screen was encouraging, and I spent the next hour or so shooting numerous photos of that magical morning. 

Later that morning I returned home and loaded the images. Only a small amount of tweaking was required, a little contrast, a little brightness, a point or two of saturation. The photo pretty much stood on its own merits and, as an image, it became one of my favorites. As an experience, well, that morning was second to none.