Mainely Moose and More

                        Mainely Moose and More

    This photo adventure story's ending is more of a personal tragedy rather than the normal humorous events of my other adventure stories. But nonetheless, I felt compelled to write it as it was an adventure that I will remember all too well. The first part of this adventure went very well, giving me many hundreds of images to work on.

    The past fall photography trip of 2008 was to meet up with a good friend of mine from Colorado, Weldon Lee.  Weldon does photo workshops all over the world and has invited me to some of them. The original trip was to go to Haines, Alaska to photograph eagles, in perhaps in snowy conditions, which would be very hard to do here in South Florida. The airfare ended up being very expensive to Anchorage and so I looked over some of his other workshops and found fall Moose in Maine. That sounded equally as good of a trip to me.    

    I was born and raised in South Florida and have photographed the Southern Bald eagles here, but as much as I have stomped these backwoods in the last 45 years, I have never, ever come across the first moose. Now, perhaps they were here and I just never saw one... or maybe they just never liked our hot humid weather and migrated north. Whichever the case, I just don't believe there are many of these critters here in Florida. In fact, I have never seen a Florida Panther before either, but that doesn’t mean that they are not here.

    So where did all the Florida Moose go?? So I called Weldon to see if there was any space available on his Fall Moose trip in Maine. Gladly there was. I once again checked the airline flights to Bangor, Maine where everyone was to meet up with Weldon and found similar high airfares, and in fact, I would have needed to rent a car once up there. This added to the airfare was a lot more than what I bargained for just to be able to spend only 6 days in the quest for Bullwinkle ... surrounded hopefully in beautiful Fall colors.

    I checked the mileage from my place to Millinocket, where we would be staying, and added up the gas cost and I thought that I could drive to Maine, spend the week with Weldon and his group of people and then be able to visit other places, both on the way up and then back to Florida... sounded like a great plan to me. And so the trip was committed.

    Now I have a 26 ft travel trailer and truck that I could have taken, but the not-so-great gas mileage, probably less than 8 mpg was not going to make this trip work. So I removed the 4 bucket seats from the back of my van and said to myself...self, I could put my air mattress down the middle and still have lots of room down the sides and across the back for everything I really needed, as long as I didn't try to take the kitchen sink.

    I sat down and planned the routes north, with a few side trips here and there that I thought might provide images, and did the same for the return trip. These various points of interest were plotted up on my laptop as lat and long grid coordinates. I just plugged them into my new GPS unit and felt confident in being able to find and go just about anywhere. The only downfall in this thinking is that the maps aren't always accurate and new housing developments are not reflected on these maps. So there was a considerable amount of lost hours trying to chase down old grist mills and barns. I would say that I lost at least 2 days. When you are chasing old structures like grist mills and barns you will need to just drive as many backcountry roads as you can and stop at old country-type stores and ask questions. I found the latter to be quite effective.

    I belong to a website site for photographers called Flickr and have met a lot of very nice people there. Mike Jones was one of them. Mike's photostream of Acadia National Park on the coast of Maine had some really great images.  I wanted to go there and see the place for myself...which became stop number two on my long lists of places to visit. That side trip to Acadia was well worth it and I plan to go back, only next time I will spend the extra money in gas and take my travel trailer.....gotta love those creature comforts of indoor cooking and not having to crawl on my hands and knees to get into bed, not to mention being able to stand up and get dressed in the morning....with the lights on!!!!.

    So my first stop at the beginning of this photo adventure was actually in northern Georgia, where my cousin lives. I did some shooting in that area for a couple of days. I found some really nice stuff there on this trip before heading north. But once again, it was just driving the back roads and asking questions that provided the subjects that I was looking for.

    I might throw in something here that relates to all of this driving the backcountry roads. You will see lots of potential image possibilities without the main subject. Beautiful landscapes, but without that really old falling-down barn or grist mill. What I do with my photography is; "I make images". By this, I mean that if I see a beautiful landscape and think that if only there was a barn over there in the back corner, I would make the landscape image.

    Then when I found a barn that would be suitable I would make the barn image leaving plenty of space around the barn for blending. The chances of finding that perfect barn image without all of the traditional clutter around it is nearly impossible. However, the barn itself, giving the correct lighting would be perfect for an empty landscape. When I get back home I will take both of those images and make the image that I had in my mind. I have literally hundreds of old barns and grist mills and associated old farm equipment/old trucks and tractors from which to choose from to "Make" the final image.

    One of the many locations that Mike Jones suggested was Mt. Washington in New Hampshire as well as the very scenic highway called Kancamagus Hwy. Well, as my luck goes, I arrived at the town of North Woodstock, which was the entrance to Kancamagus Hwy. on a Saturday afternoon.

    Crowded driving conditions do not begin to describe what was before me, and that mountaintop that Mike said would be the greatest.....well, as I rounded a curve in the road, the full view of Mt. Washington covered in snow was what I saw. The cars were lined up for over a quarter of a mile trying to get in. I just knew that my spending $20.00 to go up that mountain was not going to get me to the top. I was very sure that the sudden snow caught the road cleaning crews a bit off guard. I just waved good ridings to Mt. Washington and proceeded to meet up with Weldon in Bangor. I finally got into Bangor around 7 pm and met up with Weldon and went to dinner and discussed the next day's plans. Since I had my own vehicle I gladly offered to take one or two of his photo tour people and all their gear with me to the hotel in Millinocket.

    So that week went by fairly quickly with hundreds of images captured for me to work on when I got back home. Since Weldon's photo tour was mainly targeted for Moose, which we did have more than enough photo opts, I began looking for other things for my photography. I found several roadside small creeks with lots of small waterfalls and multi-colored leaves on the rocks. These little creeks were perfect settings for Fall shooting. When I should some of Weldon's people the images that I made along the road, they wanted to do the same.

    I'm not so sure that Weldon had those types of images in mind for his group but he didn't mind, since we all had great Moose shooting for that week. We had a giant 6 foot wide racked male come into shooting range for 2 full days of shooting. In fact, that bull walked right up to the group to go ashore and up into the woods. I had to resort to a wide-angle lens as he was well within 4 feet away from me at one point.

    So after chasing Bullwinkle around in the north woods of Maine for a week, I spent another week at Acadia National Park on the coast of Maine. I arrived at the entrance gate behind many other vehicles, all trying to get into the campground.

    I didn't realize that this was Columbus Day weekend and the campground was full. I had my National Park Disabled card out when the woman walked back to me. She initially said that the campground was full, but when she saw my card shed said she would find me a site. Some days you just have all the luck and then other days the luck goes out the window. I got a great site next to the bathroom room with a concrete walkway. However, I had to carefully back up into the site between two very large boulders. I think that they were placed there so as to not drive between them, but I did which was more convenient for the site's table and fire pit. What I didn't know was that the sidewalls of the tires were rubbing against those boulders and by the end of that week I was having tire problems, eventually having to have both of them replaced on the right side. The front tire actually blew out at 60 mph and luckily I was able to pull onto a deserted side road and put on one of those stupid donut tires.

    That route led me to some very rough backcountry roads trying to get to a Walmart Supercenter by the shortest route on the GPS. I was hoping that the little donut tire would hold up. Actually, on that little side trip, I found a very old church and school with beautiful fall leaves on the trees. So all was not a total waste that day. After getting two new tires I spent the night at that Walmart Residence Inn, only to find that the night temperatures went down to 31 degrees. However, I was toasty warm with my heating pad on low inside my sleeping bag powered by a 400-watt power inverter.

    Acadia National Park was every bit as beautiful as Mike Jones had mentioned. I could have spent another week there easily had it not been for the campground was shutting down for the winter. I obtained some really great images there and probably still have some that I could work on some 12 years later. I'm always finding new images from this photo adventure and others that I never worked up for one reason or another. I probably only covered about one-fourth of the park and the surrounding areas outside of the park in the week that I was there. 

    So ... my return routes took me through the backwoods of upstate New York and south to the scenic drive through the Shenandoah National Park and the adjoining Blueridge Parkway National Park. I always stop in at the visitor’s centers to see what's available to photograph. I love waterfalls and the photos on the walls show them in the full water flow conditions of summer. The only problem was this was fall when the water flows are minimal. That generally does not stop me from hiking to at least one or two of them. So I checked a few out and found Dark Hollow falls to be a minimal hike for these tired old bones. Well, the hike was a lot more than I had planned on, and with a weak right knee, let's just say that was not the best decision I made that day.

    The knee held up very well, considering all of the hiking for Moose and hiking around the rocky shoreline of Acadia NP. But on this hike, it was swelling up like a tick on an old hound dog after I made it back to the truck. The lighting was terrible, just to add a little salt to the ole open wound, as they say...or someone said that once... I'm sure of it. However, I do manage to come away with some fairly good images nonetheless. I spent the night in another Walmart Residence Inn... and yes! I camp out in their parking lots along with many other campers...can't beat the nightly rates and 24-hour shopping. 

    After getting coffee bright and early the next morning, I headed south at the entrance to the Blueridge Parkway National Park scenic drive. The ole knee was almost back to near normal size as I headed south on the Blueridge Parkway to find a suitable location for a nice sunrise. 

    I then headed south and found a gem, for me that is. Next to the visitors center was a relocated farmstead from the very early 1900s. The complete farmstead was donated to the park service by the children of the original builders. Each and every structure was dismantled piece by piece and each part was numbered for reconstruction later by the park service in the mid-1900s. I arrived very early and there was no one around so I set out photographing without having to wait for people to get out of my photos. When I finally fished all of the structures, I heard chickens and saw that there was smoke coming out of the old log cabin's chimney. I went inside and found a very nice couple dressed in the period's clothing. After making several images inside that old cabin I asked the lady if she would pose for me by taking a fire poker and stir the fireplace

    That turned out great and reminded me of an earlier image I made of almost the exact same situation in Georgia back in the mid-80s. That B&W image turned out to be a Best in Show and was awarded 1st place and $300.00.

    This old log cabin held many beautiful images of a time long ago. Just to imagine taking this old cabin apart and relocating all of the pieces and rebuilding it back as it once was is mind-boggling. One of the very first images that I saw when I stepped into the cabin was this small window that is used to allow fresh air into the cabin when the fireplace is going. There was a shaft of bright sunlight streaming through it with the smoke in the room from the fireplace being illuminated by that window light. I made many images inside this old cabin that morning after the people left. Many people don't realize that wooden floors move when you walk on them. When you have your tripod down and camera set up on it you can really see that effect on the screen. So I had to wait quite a while for everyone to clear out so I could photograph. It was all worth the wait.

    After photographing all that morning and into the mid-afternoon at various stops along the parkway, I checked the map for my priority location number three of this trip, and that was Mabry Mill. This famous mill was on my list for years and now it was finally within reach, or so I thought. It was still a long way away, but I decided to just hunker down, make no more stops, and put the peddle to the metal and try to make it before the late afternoon sunlight was gone. Traveling at near light speed, and well over the posted speed limit of 25mph, I finally made it... just as the sun was heading over the mountains, but still in time to get off a few nice frames. Wanting to capture this mill in the morning light, I decided once again to seek the location of the nearest Wal-Mart Residence Inn from my GPS unit so that I could return bright and early the next morning. I wanted to shoot this thing... every-which-way from Sunday.... in fact, it was Sunday. After photographing the mill and surrounding old cabin and blacksmith shop, it was decision time once again. 

    Checking the maps against my proposed planned route back into northern Georgia, I found that I was still nearly 400 miles south of Cherokee and another 200 miles looping west to my cousin's place in northern Georgia. This would have been another 4 to 5 days, as the photographer flies, with all the planned stops along the way. I was tired, the knee was swelling up again... decision time once again.

    I knew that there was so much more that I wanted to photograph on this trip, the many roadside gems that you sometimes find when you least expect it, or when on a hike and you stop to smell the roses so to speak. I guess my hunting days of spot-stock have given me a better perspective of slowing down and just looking around me, many times looking for the smaller image within the big picture. I use my 100-400 telephoto zoom lens a lot for finding these smaller compositions. It seems to just pull the out of the big picture. I decided that I was going to have to make those other locations of waterfalls, log cabins, and grist’s mills and lord only knows what else, for another time. I headed directly by the quickest route south to Cleveland, Georgia at my cousin's place. He wasn’t expecting me for at least another week. I pulled in his driveway, called him on my cell phone as I went up to the door and was talking for a few minutes, and then knocked on his door. The dogs went berserk and he said I have to go see who is at the door. When he opened the door, I heard some muttered words that sounded like “Sombeech”. I just love doing that to people.

    

    After resting up a bit in Northern Georgia at my cousin's place, I spent a few days looking for old barns, some waterfalls, and whatever else I could find to fill in with more post-processing when I got back home.  I asked Billy where I could find a small waterfall that I didn't need to hike a long way to get to. He said, Helton Falls. I asked was it named after your family...he didn't really know for sure. There were a good number of Helton's in White County. Once again at this time of year, most waterfalls are a mere trickle of what they would be in the summer. This waterfall was no exception and the only real keeper was with using the 100-400 telephoto lens and a real slow shutter speed to capture water in slow motion. It sure didn't look like this in real-time. While driving as many backcountry roads as I could find, I came across this small stream. To enhance the scale of it I used my 10-22 mm lens to get down close to the foreground. This lens is pretty good at accentuating the scale of things with its tremendous depth of field of view. Finding the correct aperture for sharpness from just in front of the lens to near infinity is the key to very sharp images.

    I decided that I would top off this trip with a nice colorful sunset with the layers of the Blue Smoky Mountain tops. I chose the highest elevation point in Georgia, Brasstown Bald Mountain Overlook at 4783 FT. elevation. From that point, you can see at least 4 states and numerous mountains top all bathed in that soft blue haze known as the Smoky Mountains. Having never been there I dragged my cousin along with me. The huge parking lot was a bit overwhelming and I had hoped all of those people would clear out and they did. There was a tram that took people up to the top and back but the tram stopped running up at 5 PM. It was 6 and the lot was emptying quickly. We started out walking past this nice paved roadway that the tram took up to the observation point and I thought why not walk up this nice paved road instead of the hiking trail. Other hikers were going up that road, but I reluctantly chose the hiking trail...the one with the large sign indicating that this was a strenuous hiking trail. Well, that was all I needed to see, but the little kids with parents in tow kinda made me feel bad and so we took that damn hiking trail................not the best decision I made that day I might add. 

    That trail lived up to that stupid sign...it was strenuous all right. For someone with a weak knee, carrying a heavy tripod and two cameras, I began to wonder about this mind-driven sunset photo that I was after. Well, after several stops to rest the knee and body we continued on to the summit... Hell, I'm a flatlander and not used to climbing in high elevations. The hiking trail eventually ended at that same paved roadway the tram takes about 40 feet or so from the summit. I love that term, “Summit”. We don't have many of those in Florida. Straight ahead were some earthen stairs ... of which I had given a great deal of thought about going around them, as had others before me, from the way the ground was worn. But NO!!!… I decided to take the stairs... not the second-best decisions I made that day and the One I now regret with the utmost of passion. The first couple of steps was alright, but the next to the last step was a bit higher and so I mistakenly took it with the weak knee ahead of the good one and attempted to push up............ “Holy Sheep Sh__, Batman".  The heavenly gates opened up and angels spoke to me in a way I will remember for the rest of my natural-born days here on earth. The light then went dark; little birds were flying all around me... which were very hard to see through the tears streaming down my cheeks. Then it hit me....."PAIN"... none like I had ever felt before in my life. I swore someone drove a railroad spike through my knee... I couldn't figure out why in the hell they would do that. I spun around and sat down all in one swift motion, grabbing the handrail as if it were my last hope of not going over some cliff. I must have sat there for quite some time. My cousin came back and said, "We're almost there". He also indicated that time was running out... funny... I was thinking the same thing but in a much different way. I faintly remember saying "That's IT".........." I can't go any further ". I can only hope that was all that I may have blurted out. I guess my cousin didn't appreciate me dragging him to the top of this mountain only to hear me say that. Only when he noticed the tears streaming down my face did he realize something very wrong had happened.

    After what had seemed like an eternity, I finally managed to get up. I had to use my tripod and the handrail, but could not put any weight on that knee. People were trying to come down those steps and go around me. I muttered some words that didn't make sense to anyone other than me, I’m sure. I managed to get back down to the last step and hard pavement...not sure if I floated down or just how I did it. My cousin would never tell me. Normally I hate carrying tripods, but in this rare case, I loved that damn tripod. I gave my two cameras to my cousin and tried to hobble down that roadway using the tripod to hang onto. It probably looked like a tall crab going sideways with one claw hanging onto this metal contraption. After making some slow progress in my downhill adventure on that paved tram road, I came to a curve in the road, and there was my sunset shot. Not the one I had envisioned, but at least it resembled such. I got one of my cameras back and somehow managed to fire off one frame of the now-infamous “Sunset from Hell”.

    The hike back down that road would have probably only have taken about 20 minutes. My hobbling, crab crawling decent getting back down that damn mountain to the parking lot took over an hour and a half. I must have looked like Frankenstein, dragging one leg behind me moaning in pain. It was pitch dark by now...can't see your hand in front of your face. Every rock looked like a black bear. I could just see the newspaper headlines describing all of this. I told my cousin to take my cameras and go on down and move the car closer to the gate. I'm sure he would have never seen all of the bears I saw that long night.

    After a couple of days at my cousin's house of alternating between frozen bags of peas and whatever else was in his freezer, placing them on the knee trying to get the swelling down, I managed enough energy to endure the ten-hour drive south to Florida... good thing for cruise control. This was not the happy ending that I planned for, which was initially a pretty good 30-day photography trip.

    When I was finally able to drive back home and see my orthopedic surgeon, my worst fears were brought to light. The knee was a goner, kaput, nada, and never again going to be my right-hand man. A new knee replacement was the next major chapter in my life, but that was not going to happen until January, and here it was the last week of October. My surgeon assured me that 95% of these kinds of surgeries go without any complications. That was somewhat reassuring, but I was wondering about that other damn 2%. I didn't what to know at this point, but I was soon going to find out firsthand. 

    The surgery went very well; in fact, the epidural was working overtime. I felt great...no pain...up and walking. The first two days went uneventful.... everything went according to my plan. I was walking, with that stupid walker, but walking...when the physical therapist noticed swelling in the right calf. Of course, this was the day before I was to be released to go home right?"…Yeah Right". They brought in the ultrasound machine and... You guessed it... "Blood Clot"...right below the new knee.

    No, I don't have a black cloud over my head... it's a damn summer thunderstorm with enough lightning to light up a small city.

    So now it's coumadin for the next six months to help dissolve the blood clot and hopefully reduce the immense swelling of my knee. This should, hopefully, give me more mobility and the ability to bend the knee more than I can now.

    This is where this adventure story ends for now. It’s been a little over three months since the surgery and I am getting around OK, but not where I had planned to be. I am sitting in a campground writing this sort of adventure story, which is unlike the other adventure stories that I have written and posted to my blog site. I try to find some humor in all of this, I really do...but sometimes it’s hard to do given the outcome of this adventure. 

    This 30-day photographing trip to many points north has given me some very good images and another 30-minute digital slide program to present. So I have to be thankful for that.

This adventure story was updated on October 1, 2020