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.