The Outdoor Photographers All Purpose 'Atta Boy...' Vehicle

 The rough Southeastern Oklahoma back road, filled with washed out gulley's and deep drop offs on either side, forced me to shift into 4-wheel drive. Loose gravel and dirt, kicked up by the tires, clattered against the underside of the wheel wells. Except for the action of the wipers my forward vision was almost obscured by muddy spray coming off the damp road that covered the side windows and back flap with a dingy brown film. I drove over a shallow rise and in front of me appeared a wide gravel and rocky bottom creek demonstrating a good flow from the extra early rain. I stopped and surveyed the conditions. The road clearly traversed the creek as it continued on the other side about thirty maybe forty yards away. It did not look too deep, but I had no way of knowing exactly how deep it was. I needed to cross so I shifted the 4x4 lever into 4-wheel low and placed the gear lever into second gear and started across. The ride across tested my skill as a 4x4 driver and I could feel the wheels crawling over and slipping across loose rocks as the water level climbed ever closer the lower reaches of the door. It took a moment or two of steady driving, but I crawled out of the creek onto the road on the other side and continued on. As I shifted again into 4-wheel high, I patted the dash of my Jeep and said,  "Atta boy..."

I have often said, "....a guy should never have a love affair with a vehicle...it's just gonna cost ya a lot of money." I must admit, I have rarely followed my own advice especially when it comes to my venerable 1997 Jeep Wrangler. I'll most likely never get rid of it and yes, it has cost me a few dollars from time to time to keep it running. Those dollars have been well spent though, as the old Wrangler has carried me now to over 310,000 miles and it seems to just keep on going. 

By now of course it has developed a character and personality of its own. Up close one can see the effects of over 25 years of tough driving. A few dings here and there, clear coat worn off the hood, some rusty spots repaired with a mixture of Bondo and spray paint, and if you crawl underneath, you will see welded patches applied to the frame to cover and correct some defects caused by corrosion. I replaced the transmission around 250,000 miles, the engine around 270,000 miles, and the rear differential around 280,000 miles. Last year I replaced the factory installed shocks which had almost 300,000 miles on them. I replaced the top long before any of those upgrades. Yeah, the old Wrangler is running better than ever. 

As an outdoor photographer and someone who pursues outdoor adventures in the process of taking photos, I need a vehicle I can depend on when the going gets a bit rough. I also need a vehicle I don't have to worry about getting dirty and this old Jeep is perfect for such things. Long ago I attached an overhead rack made by Olympic so I could easily carry my canoe. I also use it to carry other things a well. That addition has proven its worth countless times. Although the Jeep comes with a backseat, I sort of semi-permanently removed it a few years ago as I needed the cargo space more than passenger space.

The origin of the Jeep name carries some conjecture. One story says when Willy's first manufactured the Jeep for the Military it was designated a General Purpose vehicle. General Purpose eventually was shortened to GP which in time evolved into Jeep. The other story, and the one I tend to agree with, is that the Jeep was named after an old Popeye cartoon character of the era named Jeep. Jeep was this annoying little guy who could go anywhere, walk on the ceiling, pass through walls, float in the air, walk on water...he could go through and do just about anything. Well, the old Willy's vehicle proved itself capable of going just about anywhere so the name Jeep was adopted as it fit its capabilities. Regardless, it is a classic vehicle with a long and glorious heritage.

I can honestly say I have never been stuck while driving my Jeep, with one exception. And even then I was able using the Jeep's capabilities, to extricate myself. It was soon after I first purchased it I convinced Kris and the boys, who were pretty young then, to go with me up to a placed known as 'Little Sahara'. It's a unique place located out in Northwestern Oklahoma characterised by large sand dunes and is open to 4-wheel drive and ATV type vehicles for recreational use. 

Little Sahara (Internet Photo)

I wanted to give my then new-to-me 4-wheel drive vehicle a try. At first, the old Jeep sailed across the dunes with no problems and we were having a great time...until I decided to drive down into a low area where a few scrubby bush-like trees were growing. I figured I could climb out of there with no problem. Well, there was a problem. On the rise coming out, all four wheels dug in and I sunk pretty deep into loose sand and we could not go forward. I was able to back up and made several runs at climbing out to no avail. Kris was not happy and the boys just thought it was all in good fun. I was hoping I would not have suffer the indignity of asking another vehicle to winch me out. I backed up as far as I could go, told the boys to hang on because no matter what we were not stopping, and gunned it. With the engine whining, the tires dug into the sand and we started up the incline slowing down but still moving forward and just when it looked like we would not make it, the front tires grabbed more solid ground and out we came. 

Yeah, I have explored many a good day because that old Jeep provided the means to get there. The 4x4 feature certainly has payed off numerous times. Through snow, icy roads, heavy rain, crossing creeks, down rutted out backroads, and just driving on down the road, the old Jeep has carried me well over a quarter million miles in life. It has proven itself a great outdoor adventure / photography vehicle and I would never have been able to experience many of the adventures without it or would I have been able to capture many of the photographs I now have. Each of those photographs offers a back story unto themselves. Stories that reflect the confidence I had in a mechanical vehicle. From the time I first laid eyes on it, almost like a vision, somewhere in the back of my mind I envisioned driving that Jeep into the wilds and having the means to  get back without worrying if it might breakdown. Along the way, I captured a few fair to good photographs, but gained a lifetime of memories.

Sometimes though, my adventurous nature does not always match my wifes more homey nature, and to quote her infamous words from that day I almost got us stuck in the sand at Little Sahara, "Don't you ever do that again!" she yelled. Well, me and the boy's just grinned as I patted the dash and said "...Atta boy..."

Capturing the Broader Story...

First impressions are always the most important and influential and the first time I set foot upon the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Northern Oklahoma the moment so impressed me, it became a lifelong quest to return with camera in hand to capture this amazing landscape. It has been almost 30 years now since then and I have returned there many times and although it has been several years since my last visit, I still relish each and every photograph I've taken of that landscape. I have realized in more recent years there is no single photograph that can tell the story of the Tallgrass Prairie. It must be done by capturing the broader story via a series of images. The trick is to find the right number of images that collectively tell its story without overdoing it.

Time seems to roll back on the prairie. It is almost as though you have stepped through a time portal and into another era from long ago. A calmness prevails across the landscape and the Oklahoma prairie wind sweeps across the land and the tallgrasses dance in time with it almost guided by an invisible hand moving individual stems to act as one. There is a bigness to the landscape and indeed there are places on the preserve where you spin around 360 degrees and see nothing but horizon to horizon tallgrass prairie, one of the few places left where you can still do so. 

As a photographer, capturing a series of images that reflect the true dynamics of the prairie is a daunting challenge because there is so much diversity, how does one do such a thing. I've discovered that simply blitzing the location with thousands of photographs doesn't work. Nor does simply driving through it and stopping at scenic overlooks work. More thought and effort must be put into it. The prairie is something you must experience up close and the best way to do so is to walk into it. Even just a few yards will give you a fresher point of view, but to truly experience the prairie you must be prepared to hike a ways in. (As always, certain precautions should be adhered to; wear long pants tucked into your socks, liberal bug spray, good hiking boots as the terrain is rough, and always venture well clear of the several thousand American Bison or buffalo that roam across the landscape.)

One of my favorite locations within the preserve is a rocky arroyo located about a mile from the gravel road that cuts through the landscape. It is a tough hike in and tougher hike out as going in is sort of down hill, while coming out is mostly up hill. To capture the broader story of the prairie this location is a must place to experience. 

One of my favorite images, a prairie sunrise, was taken from a high point overlooking this arroyo. It truly captures  the majesty and grandeur of first light upon the landscape.

I'll never forget that morning. There was a coolness to air that early, even though it was early-summer, and the grass was filled with dew which soaked my pants legs and boots as I hiked in before sunrise. A slight breeze was rising out of the arroyo and prairie birds were beginning their morning songs.

 The prairie carries with it an aroma unlike any other place I've ever been. It is a fresh scent almost like a cross between new cut hay and damp earth. The morning sounds are carried on the wind and fill your senses with a stereoscopic surround sound. I simply waited that morning for the prairie sunrise to perform its epic routine and captured what I feel is a epic image from this unforgettable moment.

Capturing the broader story of the prairie involves more that a series of images, it must also include the emotion imparted from being there. I've had a longing to return again...maybe soon I hope. Even so I have enough memories and images from previous encounters to fill a lifetime. 

The Tallgrass Prairie's story is one of a magnificent landscape almost lost where 95% of it has been plowed under and paved over. Only a few remnants remain, and this preserve is one of the best and most rewarding. I truly love this place...and after 30 years...I've only just begun to capture its true identity.

Interpreting the Moment...Photographically

 Sometimes nature simply does not cooperate. All the planning and anticipation that goes into a photoshoot, at times, simply becomes obsolete when nature fails to live up to our expectations. Moments like these will challenge even the best photographer, yet moments such as these are what often presents a new and challenging interpretation opportunity of what nature does offer to the photographer.

One one such encounter nature threw a wild curveball at me. I was wanting to photograph one of those legendary prairie sunrises on the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve located just north of the small town of Pawhuska, Oklahoma. This preserve is by far my favorite place to photograph as it offers such a wide variety of opportunities plus it stands as one of the last remaining large tracts ( almost 40,000 acres) of original tallgrass prairie still in existence. Unfortunately, my time was limited and the weather turned stormy the night before which carried well into the morning. I made the drive anyway hoping the clouds just might part enough at sunrise to offer a chance at a photograph.

Well, they didn't. The morning sky was a solid gray wall with barely a sign of texture. The rain had subsided some, but it was still spitting light sprinkles and everything was wet. To make matters worse, that Oklahoma Prairie wind was whipping across the plains. The location I had picked out ahead of time turned out to be rather bland. I sat up my tripod anyway and waited for the appointed sunrise time that came and went with nary a hint of it happening. That wind just kept on blowing the prairie grass back and forth. In front of me a single tall Wild White Indigo plant leaned over heavily in the wind. Several minutes after official sunrise, I noticed a warm glow burning through the thick overcast. It was faint but continued to slowly grow in intensity.

As minimal as it was, this was my opportunity and I had to quickly reinterpret the situation. I moved the tripod over hoping to align the Indigo plant with the growing bullseye glow just above the horizon. The wind kept the plant leaning too far over for a photo. I held my breath...and waited. The glow began to subside and a few seconds before it disappeared, the wind died and the Indigo plant popped back upright and I fired off a couple of quick shots. The image shown above was the result. To this day, it remains one of my favorite Tallgrass Prairie images.

Interpreting the moment is what a nature photographer must know how to instinctively do. Conditions change so rapidly, you must evaluate the opportunity quickly and make a decision. It takes an eye for detail and for compositional elements. 

On most occasions, snap decisions are not required, but, interpreting the moment still applies. Interpretation is the operative word. Simple duplication of what you see does not work very well most times. It requires a solid grasp of how your camera responds to any given source of light and how to change the settings to obtain the desired effect. Your interpretation of the moment does not always have to be a xerox copy image of what you see., but it does offer the ability to visualize the possible outcome based on the light. Light then, is the key. Finding it, seeing it, locking onto it, and using it to interpret the mood you are wanting to capture is what separates ordinary picture takers from someone who captures moments that stir the imagination.

If you are photographing something simply because it looks nice or is pretty, then chances are your photo will fall short and only show the surface of the moment. But by observing more deeply into the light you can capture the total depth and vibrancy of what the light reveals and consequently whatever it is you are photographing.

It takes a willingness to endure the difficult requirements to find such moments. Things like rising well before sunrise, or braving cold and raining or snowy weather. Sometimes you have to develop a sixth sense and simply know when the conditions are prone to be good, and sometimes you must anticipate the possibilities and return again and again and again before the moment presents itself. The last photo is one such moment. To capture it required three months of effort and at least four return trips, three of which failed, before the interpretation of the moment for this location finally made itself evident.

Interpreting the Moment; it is an aspect of photography that requires time to develop, yet one that is indispensable to move beyond simple duplication of what you see and creating images that stir the soul. 

Fighting Kentucky Bucks: A Chance Encounter

 I love photographing the deer who frequent the fields and woodlands behind where I live. Kentucky is home to a healthy and diverse selection of Whitetail Deer and there is a local herd that has provided many fun photographic opportunities. A late evening chance encounter on a chilly, January day offered a wonderful photo op. Two nice bucks were but two of several deer feeding in the fields and they provided a natural show where their instinctive desire to dominate other bucks played out in front of my camera.

As they tend to do, late on this January day about a dozen or so deer meandered into the cornstubble fields behind my house. I had setup in a slightly different location from my normal spot in an attempt to gain better viewing of three fields. I kept my setup simple wearing camo clothing along with a leafy camo top covering. I also simply covered my camera and tripod with a small piece of camo burlap just to break up its pattern and to provide a small area for me to sit behind to also help mask any movements the deer might detect. It was simple and effective.

I sat under a large cedar tree situated on a corner of a wooded area which provided a dark background that helped to conceal and break up my silhouette. I had managed to capture quite a few images and some video footage and was about to lose most of the light. It was overcast and dark anyway, and as the day progressed toward sundown, the light rapidly faded. As the deer in front of me meandered away I thought it a good time to pack up and leave so as not to disturb them. 

As I gathered my gear, I noticed across the field to the northwest, several deer feeding. I zoomed in to take a look and found at least four bucks, two of which supporting pretty decent antlers. A third one looked odd and at closer inspection I discovered one of his antlers had broken off so he only had antlers on one side. That was unfortunate because the one he did have looked to be the largest of the three bucks. He eventually wandered off but the two others remained and to my surprise they began to spar with each other.

By this time the daylight grew darker every minute and they were a good 300 yards away. Even so, I could not pass up this opportunity and repositioned my tripod and zoomed in as far as my 500mm lens would take me.  It provided just enough reach and allowed for the capture of several minutes worth of those two going at it with each other.

Eventually, the light simply grew to low and I had to let them go, but being able to witness these two spar the way they did was a wonderful chance encounter. Sometimes events just happen and we find ourselves in the right place at the right time. Never had I witnessed in the wild two bucks sparring like that before. It was clear they were simply sparring and not aggressively fighting, but enough mild aggression from both gave the encounter a sense rawness in nature. 

Photographing deer in their natural environment partaking of their natural behavior unaware of you the photographers presence is always a challenge. Their senses are so defined they will detect the slightest of movements or lock onto the softest of unnatural sounds. The chatter of my camera's shutter release, although not particularly loud, but rather soft in nature, is still different enough from the natural sounds they hear all the time. They will pick up and lock onto the direction of the sound with ease. Often they will study with their keen eyes where that sound is coming from. Even though I always wear camouflaged clothing and a face mask, plus hide either behind a makeshift or natural blind, it seems they always locate me. 

To get close enough to capture compelling images is always a challenge even with a large telephoto lens. Deer possess that uncanny ability to know their surroundings and when anything is out of sync, they will investigate and then run off. It is why they have survived for as long as they have. I am truly fortunate to have a location I can easily access and photograph these amazing animals. So far, they seem to always have the last word in our interactions...but, that's perfectly okay with me. They challenge me and I keep learning...I still have much to learn about their behavior.

When the Weather is Bad...It's Really, Really Good

 The deep freeze that settled over Kentucky left its winter signature over the landscape with snow and sub freezing temperatures that extended for the better part of a week. All the ponds froze and even the larger lakes became encrusted with a layer of ice. By the beginning of the second week, warmer temperatures infiltrated along with a steady supply of rain that swamped the landscape for another week. Two weeks of bad weather and I loved it because, as a photographer, when the weather is bad, it is really, really good for capturing moody and dramatic light.

A break in the weather came toward the end of the icy week with broken clouds and blue sky peaking through. The daytime temps still hovered in the upper teens but I could not pass up the opportunity to return to one of my best rustic locations where the combination of snow, fence row, background trees, clouds, and sky offered one of those rare moments in Kentucky when all the ingredients fall into place for a winter wonderland scenic landscape. 

My fingers turned into icicles as I stood in the open with exposed finger tips. So numb they became, I could not feel the shutter release button and struggled to fired off the shots. Even so, I did manage to capture a few images, and my fingers quickly thawed once I returned to the confines of my Jeep.

I did manage to get out a few more times and photographed the local deer herd in the snow along with other landscape scenes. Always exciting to photograph deer in the fields. Add a layer of snow and cold air, the experience becomes almost surreal. Overcast skies and soft blue light gave the scene an historical measure as though being transported back in time to another era. Being warmly dressed, I braved the cold yet still felt its sting. All of it, every icy snowflake hitting my face, every numb finger, every chill infiltrating through the layers of clothing, was worth every moment.

Eventually, warmer weather settled in and the snow began to melt, but the ice covered ponds and lakes retained their icy mantle for several more days. This along with the rain and warmer temps created an amazing opportunity on Barren River Lake when fog drifted like a soft blanket across the still mushy frozen ice. I managed to spend most of a full day out there searching for and photographing this amazing combination of conditions.

With the rain and fog, it became so hazy, my camera found it difficult to find enough contrast to focus properly. I really had to struggle with it, but managed to make it all come together.

The fog was simply incredible in that it seemed to lay down close to the waters surface and slowly drift with the air currents which lifted the veil up and over the rugged shoreline and into the trees where it hovered like a ghostly apparition. It rained off and on, hard at times, but steady and eventually all that rain soaked through my rain gear and I became somewhat soggy. I loved it.

I made it over to the tailwaters area below the dam. There I discovered a good number of gulls flying around looking for something to eat as the small fish were washed through the turbines. I practiced following flying birds with my camera and big lens. Never been very good at such things, but did manage to catch a few shots of these amazingly graceful flyers. When spring comes, they will migrate back to their breeding grounds and will return again the next winter.

I must admit, it was fun to watch them zip and dart, then plunge into the water. If one happened to catch something, all the other gulls tried to steal it from him.

There were also Blue Herons standing in the tailwaters. Normally quite skittish, they seemed rather tame as I was able to easily approach them and capture a few images of their graceful stance.

The day became one of those iconic days, the kind of day that builds on the reservoir of memories collected from times past. I'll not long forget how the morning fog embraced the lakeshore and how the rain blended with the fog to create a soft misty atmosphere. Cold fingers, soggy clothing from leaky rain gear, constantly drying wet camera gear...yeah, when the weather turns bad, more often than not, it is good for the photographer. 

I suppose it is simply a matter of perspective, but one where you must be willing to charge into the moment and expect the best outcome regardless of the conditions. The roughly two weeks of marginal weather provided some wonderful opportunities to explore the best of nature at her...worst.

Black and White: What Makes It So Appealing

 The first time I gazed across and through an Ansel Adams photograph, I, for the first time, discovered the power and strength of a black and white photograph. Ever since that time so many years ago, black and white photography has held an appeal for me. Putting into words why that is, is much more difficult than actually creating the images, for black and white does not always appeal to everyone. It seems to take a deeper grasp of the revealing nature of black and white, one that comes from within as opposed to a simple visual connection. The roots of my journey into black and white photography flows back to my first attempts at photography as a youth when I first used my grandparents old Kodak Nbr 1 box film camera. From those early days until now, black and white inspires me to see the world through a different set of eyes, and that inspiration helps me to lift the veil inherent within a color photograph to reveal the hidden graphic nature of black and white.

We live in a world filled with color, yet even today with all the technology available to the photographer, there is still a place for black and white. A black and white image is timeless in that what is captured and printed could very well be a throwback to a hundred years before. The distraction of color has been removed and what is left is the vision the photographer encountered during a single moment in time.

It takes a different way of seeing to look past the color world and identify the textures, shapes, forms, compositional elements, contrasts, and power of the light, that remains. Finding it is often illusive. Capturing it not always easy. Yet when it is there, the trained eye can look past what nature shows us in color, to identify a hidden appeal where all of those elements just mentioned come to life. Knowing what will translate well into a black and white image comes with experience and that is gained through a willingness to try something new.

Walking away from what we see naturally, is not always readily accomplished. Yet, when it works, the strength of the moment stands apart from what was at one time a simple visual occurrence, to become a transformed emotional graphic representation of what was felt. In fact, once color has been removed, all that remains is the emotional experience, and black and white can effectively capture those moments like no other visual medium.

Winter Photography - Whitetail Deer, Sandhill Cranes, and A Coyote

 A cold front fell across Kentucky this week, the kind where the landscape froze under a blanket of snow and the wind knifed through every layer of clothing. Along with it came a photographic opportunity I could simply not pass up. In spite of the frigid temperatures, I ventured to the cornfields and setup my simple camo-burlap blind and waited for the deer to find their way into their feeding grounds. 

During that wait, a flight of about two hundred Sandhill Cranes flew over, their ancient migration a right of passage for all nature photographers. Although they did not set down in front of my location, they did set down nearby. Just seeing them was reward enough. 

A short while later I noticed some movement across the cornstubble. A quick look through the camera's long lense revealed a coyote searching for a meal. He was not typical of most coyotes around here. He looked strong and healthy and his thick coat carried a lot of black across his back and sides and the length of his tail. He also had a while chin and lower neck. I thought he might have been what is known as a coydog, a cross between a wild coyote and a domesticated dog. Regardless, he was fun to watch.

After a while he trotted the length of the field and crossed in front of me and passed over into the other western field. A few moments later, I heard snorts of distress and alarm from the deer as they encountered this marauding hunter. The coyote must have caught something for there was a continuous crying of alarm sounding a lot like a dying rabbit, but not exactly the same. It also carried the sound of a young deer being alarmed, the kind of sound that alerted and agitated the deer herd. They, wanting to distance themselves from the coyote, entered the field in front of me where I was able to capture both video and still shots of these amazing animals.

Come and join me on this fascinating, very cold and snowy, photographic hunt across the farm country of Kentucky.

Photographing Kentucky Deer

 Spent a few hours on a cold January day videoing the deer that inhabit the fields and woodlands around where I live. 

The DIY Wooden Double End Canoe Paddle

 They both had sat in my garage for the better part of four decades. One I had used quite a lot in those early days when budget and desire often collided. The other was rarely used and served simply as a backup...just in case. I'm talking about two inexpensive wooden Feather Brand canoe paddles. The older one was so heavily aged it had developed a dark patina where the finish was no longer smooth and clear but had turned a dark brown complete with deep gouges, nicks, and separating laminents (fixed with heavy duty staples). The other still looks almost new except for some minor laminate separation near the end of the blade (also fixed) and a few scuff marks. Neither canoe paddle had been used for probably over twenty years, but both were still sound in spite of needing some minor repairs. They were destined for a new life and were to become the source of a DIY wooden double end canoe paddle.

(Going to briefly step away from photography and talk a bit more about the outdoor aspect of this site. The past several seasons I have become more involved with backpacking, and canoe camping, employing photography and videography as an element of those adventures. This short piece explains how I managed to make a wooden double canoe paddle. The project was pretty easy to do and a lot of fun to complete.)

Virtually all of my canoe experience involved using a single paddle. In spite of all the off and on years of canoeing, I never really perfected what is called the J-Stroke. That is where you paddle on one side of the canoe for extended periods, but maintain a straight course by rotating the paddle outward at the end of the stroke to gently guide the canoe back onto your intended course. I usually applied a simple or modified version of the J-Stroke by simply dragging the paddle blade at the end of a stroke and use it as type of rudder to steer a somewhat straight path. It worked, but was and is somewhat inefficient and you lose a lot of momentum in the process. The thought of using a double end paddle never really occurred to me. They of course, in my way of thinking, were used in the realm of kayaks, not canoes.

Prototype joint

In recent times I started watching and following several outdoor related YouTube video programs and by doing so noticed how often the hosts were using double end paddles while canoeing. What really caught my attention was just how straight they tracked and how rapidly and smoothly they moved across the water. Intrigued, I visited the local Cabela's store to check out their selection of double end paddles. Well, lets just say I did not want to spend $80 to over $100 dollars for a paddle but I did gain some insights into the length of, and configuration of the ones they had.

On the way home, I remembered those two old paddles hanging up in my garage and was inspired by a epiphany; why not combine them to make my own! I pulled them down and laid them out on the garage floor and measured their combined length which was somewhere around 100 inches. Way too long. I overlapped the handles about foot or so and using three heavy duty zip ties, laced them together. 

Prototype

The overall length ended up about 90 inches. I also took a length of paracord and tightly wound it around the joint for reinforcement. A day or two later, I was on the water giving it a try...and to my astonishment, it worked great! My paddling technique required some improvement, but I soon got the hang of it and continued to use this prototype for several more trips.

Once I knew the idea was sound, I decided to permanently join the two paddles. The way I accomplished this was to cut a few inches off the handle, then using my son's table saw (you can cut the notches by hand if you are careful), I cut about a 10 inch notch in the end of both. These notches were then overlapped to form a joint. Liberally applying some strong glue and clamping the ends together, after a few hours, the joint was good and solid, but not nearly as strong as I wanted. 

Joint strengthened with paracord and
inserted wooden dowels

To strengthen the joint, I drilled three 5/16 inch evenly spaced holes in the joint then glued and tapped in three wooden dowels. After they set up, I cut off the excess dowel, sanded, and applied a few coats of varnish. I still was not satisfied, so using the previous length of paracord, I tightly rewrapped the joint to provide that extra bracing. Near the base of both paddles I inserted a block of foam pipe insulation, taping both pieces to each end of the paddle and also applied a short decorative section of paracord to keep them in place. These served to prevent water from running down your arms during the paddle rotation on each stroke.

I could not wait to give it a try and within a day or so was back on the water and the results were fantastic. I was able to smoothly cover more distance at a faster pace with less effort. This diy double paddle has become my go to paddle when I am wanting to make a long canoe trip. I've already made two long day trips on the lake, one 15 miles and another about 18 miles, and plan on even longer ones this upcoming new season. 

I still use a single paddle and always carry one with me as a spare should the double one break and should I make a river trip, I believe the single paddle would be a better choice. In recent weeks, I actually built two wooden single paddles from scratch. One was made using poplar and the other using ordinary pine. 

Both were cut out with a jigsaw and shaped using a jack plane, spoke plane, and a block plane along with a belt sander and orbital sander. The one made of poplar, I glued laminated edges to the blade to make it a little wider. To each about 6 to 8 coats of varnish was applied. The poplar one turned out so nice, to avoid risking damaging it, I decided not to use it, but to enjoy it as a finished piece of woodworking...it looks more like a piece of furniture and is standing in the corner of the dining room. The other one made from pine, is a bit more roughly made and I will actually use it. It is about 5 inches longer than my other paddles so I'm curious about its performance and how well  it will hold up and handle. Both use a length of hardwood along the shaft to strengthen it at the weakest point.

The double paddle will not breakdown into two parts, but it is actually quite easy to transport without doing so. However, I am planning on building another one, but design it so it can be broken down into two components to make it a bit easier to transport. Still working on the design concept and it should, as did the two single paddles, provide for a fun winter project.

The nice thing about these projects was that neither of them cost me much of anything. The double paddle project was simple and the two wooden single paddles were both fun projects in their own right. Building the double paddle being so simple, no video is really required to understand how to make one, but I did include a few photos to help clarify what it looks like. There is nothing like the look and feel of a wooden canoe paddle.

Campfire Moments

 Some of the best memories are the ones made sitting around a campfire. Whether with good friends, family, or simply alone, campfires provide a welcoming warmth to all who gaze into their hypnotic flames. A camping location becomes home when the campfire is stoked into life. 

During a recent return overnight backpacking trip into Mammoth Cave NP, another such campfire provided moments of warmth during a cold evening and even colder morning. Please enjoy...Campfire Moments

Tales of Strange and Odd Events

Spend much time in the outdoors and you are bound to experience some strange and odd events along the way. Most of the time my outings tend to be rather uneventful in that regard although, on occasion, a rare and unexpected incident will occur. Most of them, if I were to dig deeper and evaluate all the possible connections, I would discover a logical explanation for what happened or for what I saw. However....there's been a few that just seem to defy logic. Let's travel back in time, take a step away from photography to visit a few personal points in history that seems so far away the thoughts about those years come across more dream-like than actual happenings.  However, I remember one particular night under the stars as though it happened the day before, and recalling such moments rekindles thoughts of other strange and odd events.

 It was a more innocent time of my youth played out in a location where fond memories and important life experiences served to move me along the path to becoming an adult. Southeastern Oklahoma is where I grew up in the 1950's and 1960's. The Mayberry-like little town of Wister harbors a great deal of my youthful exuberances and life experiences. I suppose that is why I enjoy watching reruns of old television shows like The Andy Griffith Show and even The Waltons. There are so many parallels to growing up in Wister to those shows, it is almost uncanny.

I do remember one strange event that happened in that little town and to this day, I have been unable to come up with a logical explanation. I must have been ten maybe eleven years old. It was during the long dog days of summer and the early days of America's space program were moving toward its maturity, but it was during that time when just getting something up there was problematic at best. I was absolutely fascinated with the subject of space exploration including the stars and planets and the night sky. Back then the night skies of Southeastern Oklahoma were clear and unhindered by haze and light pollution. One evening late, well after sundown, I stood in the vacant field next to my grandparents home. That field covered maybe an acre or so and was lined with trees on two sides. It offered a clear and unobstructed view of the night sky. 

No moon was out so the sky seemed filled with crisp stars and I distinctly remember how bright they were that evening with the Milky Way haze arching across its breadth. I stood not quite in the middle of that field looking up at the brilliant heavenly arena. To my right, toward the south, high in the sky a very bright star hovered in the blackness, alone with no other stars nearby or at least within some distance from it. It appeared as an isolated beacon and I suspected it was the planet Jupiter because it carried the same kind of characteristic brightness. A few moments later to the east a much dimmer point of light began to arch across the sky moving toward the west just coming into view over the tops of the trees. At first I figured it was an airplane flying very high, but within a short time I realized it was not for there were no flashing lights. It wasn't unusual even then to be able to see a satellite fly across the night sky as they reflected the sunlight, and I was sure that is what I seeing. It had about the same luminosity as the other typical stars.

As I watched the dim light drift across the darkness, before long it became apparent it was likely to intersect the bright light I had noticed before. I really wanted to see that as it would have been a rare event indeed to see. Closer and closer it drew to the brighter star. I never took my eyes off the moving light, never blinked for fear of missing the instant it would cross the brighter light. As it came within a few degrees of the brighter light it began to slow down just a little and as it drew alongside...it stopped. I blinked...took another look and sure enough there were now two lights hovering high above one next to the other. I wished I had a pair of binoculars for a closer look, but had to rely on my eyesight alone.

I stood there stunned thinking I had somehow lost sight of it, but no, it was still there just a few degrees from the brighter light. Where there was once one bright light isolated against the background, now there were two, one bright and one somewhat dimmer right next to it. I remember saying to myself "Wow!"...What is that?" A few moments went by and my excitement began to stir even more as I kept looking trying to see if I had simply lost sight of the moving light. To my astonishment, as I was looking at the bright point of light...it began to move...in the opposite direction toward the east at a much faster pace. I watched it sail across the sky much faster than a high flying airplane and within moments, its movement took it where the trees on the east side of the field obscured my sight of it. The other dimmer light remained where it was.

I was so excited not knowing what I had just seen, I ran into the the house and started jabbering about the incident. The reaction I received from my parents and grandparents was..."That's nice...time to stay in now." No amount of excitement or explanation on my part swayed them to asked any questions so I shelved the incident into the recesses of my memories. Even so, as strange as it was, I know what I saw, and the description noted in this post is true and as accurate as I remember it being, even if it did occur a long time ago to a young boy. Being that the space program was in its infancy at the time, its seems unlikely to have been something NASA or the military could have pulled off.

Fast forward a few years to 1967 and my family lived in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. my friend Rocky and I lived a mile or so apart so it was not uncommon for us to walk back and forth between each others houses. The shortcut took us down a dusty old alley. One summer evening, he and I were walking from our house to his and were horsing around walking down that alley. It was getting pretty dark, but the ambient light of the town provided enough illumination so we could see. About half way down that alley, we both looked up and saw something floating low across the sky just above the trees in front of us, some distance away but still close enough we could make out some details. It appeared to be three different colored lights forming a soft triangle surrounds a central light. It hovered in silence slowly drifting in the sky. We started laughing about it jokingly popping off, "Hey look...there's a UFO...ha ha."

Within a few seconds our laughter turned silent as we looked at each other, then the object again. "Wow...what is that?" and we started running toward his house. By the time we got there, the object was hovering just behind his house, with some trees and an old multi-storied apartment building blocking our view, so we ran around to the other side of it and I caught a glimpse of it through the trees before losing sight of it. When we broke into the open on the other side of the apartment building, it was gone.

We buzzed all evening about it wondering what we had just seen. Later when I went home, I told my dad about it. His response was typical, "Oh...okay."

Some years later I mentioned the incident to Rocky and he looked at me like I was crazy. "What are you talking about?" "What do you mean, what am I talking about....you don't remember that night?"

'Not a clue what you are talking about."

I could not believe my ears, because, well frankly...we did see it and I definitely remember that night. 

I joked around with him afterward implying the aliens must have erased his memory or something...he was not too amused. In more recent times I did some research on if any UFO's had been sighted in that area during that time and discovered one had indeed been reported in Tulsa...and there was a photo of it! The photo was not great but it was exactly what we saw that night. Phenomena such as these two events are interesting and not all that unusual and most likely have a logical explanation. I've never been able to figure out just what to explain them, but, oh well sometimes our imaginations can run away with us...sometimes.

I've never been one to put much credibility into hauntings and tend to take them with a grain of salt. However...I would not so readily write off a series of incidents that occured...to me...back in the mid-1990's.

I had taken a new temporary contract job in Denver, Colorado. The pay was good but it meant I had to be away from home for extended periods of time. I stayed in a small studio apartment in Aurora. It was indeed small consisting of a single main room, small kitchen, walk thru closet, and a small bathroom. It did have a fireplace though which was nice, and a sliding glass door to the outside as it was on the ground floor.

Over time I began to notice odd things were happening while I lived there. Between the main room and the kitchen was a see through mantel area where I kept a small box where I placed my keys and wallet and loose change. I remember getting up early one morning to get ready for work and as was customary I reached for my keys and wallet in the box. The wallet was there, but open, but the keys were not. I looked all over the place, bathroom, pants pockets, laundry basket, kitchen, between the cushions on my small fold out couch and bed combo, they were nowhere to be found. Eventually, I rummaged through this cheap cardboard two level dresser thing where I kept clean socks and other things and found the keys buried down deep inside the top drawer.

I could not image how they got there. I didn't put them there. I always placed them in that box on the mantel. Anyway, I shrugged it off and headed out to work. Odd events like that continued to happen. I would wake up in the middle of the night and discover the kitchen light or the bathroom light was on. I know I did not turn them on or leave them on. Again I would shrug off the incident and go back to sleep. The lost key thing continued to occur from time to time and before long when I could not find my keys, I would always discover them in the top drawer of that cardboard dresser. It was becoming comical...almost.

This kind of thing carried on at random over several months, then took another somewhat stranger turn. One evening, late while I was asleep, I was awakened with a start. It felt like someone had shook my shoulder trying to wake me up. When I jolted upright, noone or anything was there. I shook it off as an odd dream...until one night as I lay suspended between half awake and half asleep, I experienced a strange sensation that someone was hovering or standing over me. I rolled upright, and for an instant thought I saw a dark figure standing at the foot of my fold out couch/bed. In an instant it was gone. That one shook me up...a little...and I did not sleep well that night. The rough thing about it was, that was not the only time it ever happened.

Other little things happened as well. One evening while I was watching a football game, a small picture I had placed on top of the small mantel over the fireplace suddenly flew off the shelf. It  didn't just slide off and fall to the ground, it flew off several feet as though someone or something had flipped it over. 

One of the oddest occurrence happened in broad daylight. It was a Saturday morning and I was preparing to go on a hike up in the Rocky Mountain National Park. The little television/VCR combination set I used had two ways to turn it on or off; the switch on the set or via the remote control. If the set was on and the power went off, when the power came back on the set would not turn itself back on. You had to manually turn it on again. As I was finishing up in the bathroom, the TV was on and playing in the background when it suddenly shut off. My first thought was the power had gone out, but I still had lights on in the bathroom. While I stood there trying to make sense of what had happened, a few seconds later the TV came back on, then... a few seconds after that, it went off again and it came back on a few seconds later. This occurred several times over the next several minutes. I checked the remote control to see if it maybe had been wedged between something that was pressing on the on/off button. It was just sitting there. Eventually, I left for my trip and came back that evening...to discover the TV was...on.

I never did ask the management if something bad had ever happened in that apartment. All I know is, some strange and odd things did occur from time to time during my stay there.

In more recent times I experienced another odd phenomena. I was on a fall season two night three day backpacking trip into the backcountry of Mammoth Cave National Park. On the first day I sort of accidentally missed my turnoff to my first nights campsite and ended up discovering an old cemetery. At first discovery I of course thought it was of some interest as the numerous headstones appeared to be quite old, but I did not take a closer look at that time. My immediate problem though was what to do about getting back on the correct trail. By this time I had already hiked a ways and was tired and the thought of backtracking and continuing my hike just was not very appealing. I decided I would just camp in the woods next to the cemetery.

I chose a very good place to set up camp and went about my normal chores of doing so. By the time I had finished it well into the afternoon and because I wanted to capture some photographs I set about exploring the area. While I was setting up camp and during the exploring I made, I kept hearing what sounded like a child or children laughing off in the distance. My first thought was someone with kids was hiking down the trail. The laughing was random and subtle, almost to the point of being barely audible at times but was definitely something I kept hearing. Everytime I heard it, I would look and search the area visually in the direction from which it came. I never saw anyone, just kept hearing the soft sound of a child's laughter. As I explored the area, did also find what appeared to be the rock foundation of an old cabin. No structure remained, but the squared off rocks were stacked in a neat series of rows...like for an foundation of an old home.

As the day closed in toward the evening, I stepped into the cemetery for a closer look. There over 40 weathered and gray headstones of various sizes many with no inscriptions, just a small field stone placed to mark a grave. However many of the others did retain crude inscriptions...and many of them were of...children. Some of the children's headstones include the name, date of birth, and date of death. Sadly, some of them were only a few years old with a several only a couple of months old. The realization there were so many children buried in this ancient cemetery sent a chill down my back. Was I hearing echoes of children laughing from times past...or was it just the wind. You can watch the full Youtube video episode at: https://youtu.be/DL6reEx6qqg

I have a few other tales of such things, like the Legend of Skull Bluff chronicled in this blog and on my YouTube site: 

https://beyondthecampfirebykeith.blogspot.com/2023/06/the-legend-of-skull-bluff-true-story.html

but I will reserve them for another time or allow you to explore the story of how the Spirit of Skull Bluff wreaked havoc on me during a canoe float trip on Arkansas' Buffalo River.

I hope you enjoyed this post about strange and odd events I've experienced through the years.

Recycling Old Outdoor Gear: Finding New Life For Your Vintage Outdoor Stuff

 Too many times I've wandered the aisles of the local Sporting Goods store with the same kind of enthusiasm a child has walking down the toy aisle at the local department store. All the outdoor related clothing, boots, fishing gear, canoes and kayaks, not to mention the other things like knives, fish locators, and other camping related gear tend to lure me into wishing I could afford to purchase some of that stuff.

The words stuff and lure are actually appropriate for most of it...as most of it is purposely designed to catch the unwary shopper and does little to improve your outdoor experience. Even so, the majority of the outdoor gear I now use was at one time...new, and even though now old, still functional and useful.

Let's start with my Old Town canoe. As of this post it is almost 20 years old and has developed numerous scars, dents, dings, and gouges, yet it is still a highly functional vessel. It weighs in at around 59 pounds, perhaps a bit heavy to portage over a long distance, but still light enough to be lifted and carried across my shoulders without too much effort. Near the front and toward the stern there are signs of wear and tear, but with a little Marine JB Weld application, the deep scars have been sealed and re-enforced. 

Once a year for the past several years I have removed and refinished the wooden thwarts applying a bit extra varnish to the ends to create a waterproof seal at the most vulnerable places. All the fittings are then securely tightened upon reassembly. There are newer, lighter weight canoes available today, however I doubt they are any more functional than my 20 year old canoe, and I do believe my old one retains the classic lines of a traditional canoe the newer ones seemed to lack. The newer ones are also quite a bit more expensive.I also use wooden paddles. I love the look and feel of a wooden paddle. The newer fiberglass or light weight aluminum or carbon fibre paddles with plastic blades just don't do it for me. I'm a traditionalist at heart and even though the newer ones are functional, they just don't stand the test of time when compared to a wooden paddle.

 Last year I took two old inexpensive Feather Brand wooden paddles and combined them into a single, double bladed paddle. It was an experiment actually, just to see if it might work and to recycle two old paddles I no longer used. Turns out this new recycled double paddle works great and has become my favorite paddle to use on long haul canoe trips. As a bonus it retains the classic look and feel of wood. Someday I will do a Youtube video on how I made that paddle.

Backpacking is an activity I have jump started back to life after some sporadic attempts spaced apart through the years.  Although I had done enough to feel like I was at least somewhat seasoned as a backpacker, the gear I use is and was old school stuff. As a result it was/is also heavy. I needed to reduce the weight I carried. I started with eliminating things I really did not need and did purchase a new lightweight cook stove that saved me several pounds of weight. I also used a packer tent that was just too small and with the supplied poles, too heavy. I did two things that reduced my carry weight with the tent. I eliminated the poles, and then also started using a small tarp in place of a tent. There are times a tent is preferable, but it needs poles to stand up correctly so I simply cut some when I use it. The tarp option is certainly lighter in weight, but the tarp I used was simply too small and provided only a superficial covering. 

That was okay in dry, warm weather, but in cooler and/or damp weather it would not work. That is when I remember having an old Coleman 8 person tent I did not use anymore in my attic. It came with a rainfly, so I extracted it from the case and discovered the rainfly was almost three times the size of the tarp I had been using and only weighed slightly more. It is a perfect example of recycling old gear toward a newer use. The larger tarp can be rigged several ways to provide a safe and secure covering for any kind of outing.

Hiking boots are a vital piece of gear when it comes to backpacking. Mine are probably 15 years or more old, however, the soles are still in good shape as are the uppers with one exception. On one of the boots part of the seam/rim has separated from the upper just slightly, enough though to warrant some kind of repair action. After a good cleaning, I judicially applied ample amounts of ShoeGoo, a kind of shoe glue. After allowing it to season for a day or two, the boot was almost good as new and ready for several more seasons of hiking. A tube of ShoeGoo was a lot cheaper than a new pair of hiking boots or even paying a shoe repairman for a fix.

As a photographer, I will from time to time think of ways I can recycle old gear to enhance my attempts at capturing nature. Sometimes you get caught out in wet weather. Even though most camera gear is weather-proof to some degree, most camera gear do not do well in wet weather. I needed something to cover my camera and large 50-500 lens to protect it from wet conditions. Stuffed underneath some of my old outdoor gear was an old set of rain gear I did not use anymore. It had a camo pattern to it so I got the idea to cut off a leg from the pants to fit as a sleeve over the lens that also extended around the camera body. Worked like a charm. Cost me nothing, and weighs virtually nothing and provides a good waterproof solution.

We have an old sewing machine, very basic without a lot of whistles and bells but functional. I needed some bags to store gear in and checked out the purchase of some various sizes. Cost was way too much so I visited the local Hobby Lobby and for a fraction of the cost I purchased a couple yards of vinyl coated nylon material and a few yards of heavy canvas material. With a few measurements and some careful stitching with the machine, I made several functional and semi-waterproof bags that work great and they only cost me a few dollars and a little time. In fact, I actually enjoyed making them and the satisfaction I received from doing so was worth far more than any store bought bag would have provided. 

Sewing has become a standard and necessary skill for me. Many of my outdoor clothes through wear and tear develop threadbare abrasions, rips, and other assorted holes if not addressed will continue to grow into something more destructive.  I've gotten pretty good at patching up such things. As I already stated I've made simple bags and other containers, but I am far from being able to sew any kind of clothing. I have also added extra tie down loops to my tarps to make securing and hanging them easier and more efficient. My old sleeping bag was becoming threadbare along the inside top portion and had developed a significant rip in the ripstop nylon causing some of the stuffing to come out. I took an old flannel sheet and cut a portion of it to shape, then using the sewing machine stitched in the flannel material across the ripped out section...Good as new adding extended life to my old sleeping bag. With the remainder of that old flannel sheet, I folded it lengthwise and stitched it across the bottom and about 3/4 the way up one side to make a soft, warm, sleeping bag liner. My cost...$0.00...New store bought liner...$30.00 to $60.00.

If I thought about it long enough, I could come up with other recycling solutions for old outdoor gear, but you are by now probably getting the idea of where I am going with this post. Extending the life of the outdoor gear you already have is certainly cheaper than buying new stuff. With a little creative thinking, new useful solutions for gear that has been sitting in the garage for a while can provide you with many more months or even years of service.