"Get to da choppa!"
Some of the best cinematic quotes of my generation have come from the former Governor of California—the Austrian Oak himself—Arnold Schwarzenegger. "Come with me if you want to live." "I'll be back." "It's not a tumor!" Even in his 1977 documentary, Pumping Iron, he commanded a line with a certain panache that asserted himself as the chiseled actor that every little kid wanted to see on the big screen. "Milk is for babies. When you grow up you have to drink beer." But it is the movie Predator where Arnold furiously yelled, "Get to da choppa!" that I recalled when the helicopter from Tanalian Aviation touched down to greet me at the Knik River Lodge. With the chopper's rotary wings still whirring above my head and the camera equipment slung over my shoulder, I hunched over from the wind and may have even blurted out Arnold's same line in excitement. Luckily, the young, female pilot didn't hear me, preserving my somewhat sensitive self-esteem.
This was not the first time that I rode in a helicopter, but it was definitely a first to photograph a part of Alaska to which I had not been. Although I would have loved to have had a longer ride than 10 minutes, I had the choppa (sorry I had to throw that in there) all to myself to thoroughly enjoy the trip to Colony Glacier. Rising quickly from the landing pad, we banked slightly to the right and made our way east up the Matanuska Valley at about 2,500 ft.
We followed the Knik River in all of its braided madness until the prodigious Knik Glacier appeared in view. When you fly over a glacier at significant altitude (20,000 ft for example), the surface appears smooth. But at our altitude, a glacier's surface topography is entirely different with ice crevasses, peaks, and valleys. Against a silty river, the blues from the fringe ice strikingly match the morning sky.
The helicopter turned again to parallel the perimeter contours of Knik Glacier. It was then that Lake George appeared with what appeared to be our destination set along its banks. Icebergs dotted the icy, crystal clear water and Colony Glacier perched ominously in the background. For a Sunday morning that started at 4:30 am, what I was seeing as I left my private whirlybird was nothing short of spectacular.
Since the news of our expecting bundle of joy, I haven't had the opportunity to dust off my camera in the frequency I would like. Getting the house ready, freaking out...and freaking out some more, have been the majority of my focus this past year. I think Mel knew I was jonsin' to stretch my "tripod" legs and fill my photography void, so she contacted professional photographer, Jeff Schultz—official photographer for the Iditarod. After selling Alaska Stock in 2012, Jeff has revisited his photography and now offers instruction to folks looking to improve their photography—or someone like me to get out an shoot awesome locations in Alaska. Without these two people, I would not have been able to post these shots or share with you my terribly cliche Arnold experience!
I also got a chance to meet an incredible young photographer, Miles Leguineche, who blew me away with his knowledge of photography at such an early age. I found that our similar interest in photography transcended the clear age difference between us. Even though I offered a few pointers here and there, he had his composition down! Check out some of his work from this workshop and you will quickly see why I gravitated towards him. He's got a bright future ahead of him.
Earlier in the morning, Miles noticed that I was using an interesting combination of filters attached to the end of my 16-22mm lens. Because the light even at 10 am was incredibly bright, I needed something to reduce the amount of light coming into my camera. This was imperative as I wanted Lake George to appear dead calm, so that meant a long exposure. This is a tricky shot because some of the icebergs that calved off the day prior were skirting about the lake. I needed to stop my camera enough to achieve a smooth lake, but also not apply too much or else the icebergs would appear blurry. Miles caught on perfectly, and as Jeff offered one of his extra 10-stop neutral density filters, he jumped at the chance to try out some new techniques. I think he even walked away with one of the best shots of the day between the two of us. Perfect composition, great lighting, and a long-exposure technique—a combination worth framing.
There were a few moments that teacher turned to student too. Jeff showed me a couple composition techniques that I have been experimenting with ever since. Learning a concept called hyperfocal distance was something new to me as I typically shoot landscapes completely wide open. When there are landscapes that contain interesting foreground subject matter plus background content, attaining hyperfocal distance when setting up your shot is paramount. It provides a constant and crisp focus throughout the entire image. Your background appears just as much in focus as the foreground. By setting up your hyperfocal distance ahead of time when composing your photograph, it will significantly reduce your post-processing time trying to sharpen certain areas of your image. Take a look at this interesting read to learn more about hyperfocal distance and how it can improve your photography.
Shooting long exposure photographs rewards a photographer with time. Sometimes these shots take about 5 minutes to complete offering a unique opportunity to not only get a great shot, but also enjoy the landscape you are shooting. The silence...the solitude..these are things that I have come to appreciate as I shoot. This patience lets me hear the cracking of the glacier, the sploosh of ice dropping into the lake, or the small ripples of water lapping against the rocky shore.
Colony Glacier was truly a remarkable place to experience. Jeff was an amazing photographer to work with, and meeting Miles was something completely unexpected. Even though I branched away from the group to pursue some different photographic opportunities, I still could see Jeff taking the time to help those other folks work with their camera. Truly, he was a marvel and always supportive no matter what level of instruction a group member required.
2:00 pm. I could hear the choppa returning for the group, its whirring motors disrupting the tranquility of the Matanuska Valley. With the camera bag packed a second time, it was time to head home, but not without another Arnold Schwarzenegger quote, "Rubber baby buggie bumpers!" ~ Last Action Hero.