So sometimes I just need to do something a little manly and manageably dangerous. On a chilly evening not too long ago, I hopped in the car in search of a good sunset view to capture with my camera. As I drove up the Hogback Road in Johnson, I realized there wasn't going to be much color in the sky but I could try for some good low-light views anyway. Just around the corner from the Ithiel Falls camp, there is a set of islands and a sandbar- the sun was setting straight on to that stretch of river.
The view from the upper bank was kind of boring, and I couldn't get a clear shot from the angle I wanted. The banks are quite steep right there, and there isn't much of a bank where I was looking, but it looked from above like there was a small landing strip at right around the angle I was trying to get to. I scooted/butt slid/clambered down the slope, tripod clipped to my camera bag and big orange coat smoothing the way. I managed to change my lens, level the tripod on a leeeeeetle stretch of sand, and get lined up to squeeze off a few shots before remembering: I don't have a light. Better climb back up before it actually gets, you know, dark out here.
There is something incredibly satisfying about skinning one's knees. By the time I climbed back to road level I had fallen, aggravated a serious cramp in one foot, scraped my hands a bit, and just generally gotten good and sweaty. It was awesome.
The pictures? Not that great. Here's the best one:
I cropped out a bunch of super boring and blown-out sky; adjusted color temp to reflect what I was actually seeing at the time of the foto; played with levels a bit to emphasize the sun's rays and tamp down the flares; created a duplicate background and tried to completely dim the highlights but the reflection on the water is blown beyond repair. Shot at 1/80, f8 at ISO 200 on a 50mm prime f1.8 lens with my D7000.
So, this one won't exactly get printed up for the office wall. But if a great result is the only point of photography, it would be too much failure to continue on. As with any art form, the process is itself a reward as much as the product. After my cliff-climbing adventure I felt sore, stiff, and exhilarated.

