Tag: canadian shield

Lake Superior VI: Chutes, again

I hate those shirts that say, “Been there. Done that.” That’s the problem with tourism these days – too many people choking up incredible places just so they can tick their list of things they’ve “done” – once – never to return, never to really experience the place. That’s not travel, it’s listing, like so many birdwatchers adding to their Life Lists.

My other peeve with this, is the word “do” in association with visiting a place. “Oh, we did Stonehenge” or “Oh we’ve done Machu Picchu”. Most of the time, they didn’t do anything but sit on a coach, get out, walk around for a few minutes, buy their souvenirs then off to the next place to “do”. Again, that’s not travel, it’s listing. Oh, am I repeating myself? There’s a message there!

Okay – rant over…

To break up the drive back to the hamster cage of southern Ontario, we decided to stop at Chutes Provincial Park again. Yes, we were there on the way up – what could there possibly be to photograph if we’ve “done” it already?!? 🙂 As a photographer, I know how important it is to return to places I’ve already visited. Things change: the light, the time of day, my frame of mind, my way of seeing; and, over a year or many years, the seasons. I can’t count how many times I’ve “done” the Arboretum at the University of Guelph over the 35 years since I first attended Uni, and I think I can confidently say, I’ve never come home without seeing something new and with a photograph I’d be happy to post or frame.

Having visited and experienced a place once, gives you “insider” information about what that place is like and where the light will fall at different times of the day. Hopefully, on your first visit, you consciously made notes (literally or figuratively) about what isn’t working that time and may work better in different conditions. Or, perhaps there’s a part of it you didn’t fully explore. These all factor into returning to places. This second time, Chutes proved to be well worth the stop.

The evening we arrived didn’t amount to much. We mostly scouted for the next morning. I felt moved to make one serious photo (right), but I knew it would be repeating the theme of a waterfall at dusk; a different waterfall, but nothing really new. However, our scouting hike gave us the opportunity to envision places to photograph tomorrow.

The next morning dawned clear and we headed straight out, each to slightly different locations. That’s one of the reasons I like working with Kerry: we are both independent in our thinking and our photography, rarely working the same scene or, if we do, usually from different angles. We can be on the same trail, yet not see each other for an hour or more.

In the gallery below are photographs from the three different set-ups I worked on in the morning; two are similar, from the same set-up; I just can’t decide yet which framing I prefer. I’ve also included the one from the previous evening.

Making Cascade was a lengthy process of working with different shutter speeds to get just the right flow of water. While “chimping“, I noticed this one photo had a wash of water over the foreground rock – the only one like it. I tried replicating this with a slightly longer shutter speed, but the flow of water only did this every 5 minutes or so and my timing just wasn’t as good as the serendipity of the initial frame like this.

The photographer Weegee is credited with the phrase “ƒ8 and be there” as the first rule of photography. I couldn’t agree more, because once you’re there, serendipity has a chance to play its role. As a family, we came to recognize the importance of serendipity during our travels when we lived in Africa. Going out on “game drives” was all about timing: a Cheetah on a termite mound; hyenas gathered at kill; a wildebeest giving birth; elephants wandering amongst our tents. So we’ve continued to be open to serendipity and, more importantly, being out there to experience it. You just never know when things might go from exciting to magical.

You can lview all the photos I’ve posted from Lake Superior 2017 on my Flickr account. Please share the link and this post, and feel free to comment, question and add constructive criticism.

Thanks for reading.

Lake Superior V: B&W

I love black-and-white. Perhaps it’s because, like every photographer of my age, I “cut my teeth” on black-and-white. Thank goodness digital has not changed that. In fact black-and-white is better now than it ever has been. We are no longer tied to using colour filters – yellow, orange, red – to enhance tones of the same colour over their opposites. Nor are we tied to buying, mixing, storing, using and breathing in the chemicals needed for a darkroom. Then, there’s the water use: hours of washing negs and prints with constantly running water? I can’t even conceive of it anymore.

Figure 1

The conceptual part of making of a black-and-white photograph is perhaps a bit more difficult today. As we live in a colour world and digital cameras produce colour files, I find it more difficult to switch my brain into “black-and-white mode”. As we no longer put a roll or a sheet of B&W film into the camera, and we no longer use the colour filters, there isn’t that physical “trigger” to ignore the colour and concentrate on the tones, the shapes, the textures. Having been schooled in B&W, I find I can make the switch, but it’s definitely more difficult. I imagine those who have never worked in a B&W world may find it considerably more difficult. Often, though, it’s the scene that tells me, “I’m a black and white!”

Figure 2

Without colour, a scene must speak through tones, textures and contrast. It doesn’t need to start off monotone, but the photographer must carefully understand how colours will translate to shades of grey. Two very different colours; the orange and blue in a sunset, for example, will often become a single or two very similar grey tones (Fig 1). Back in the film days, when colour filters were used, a yellow or orange filter would be selected to brighten the yellows and oranges and darken the blues. This is now done in the digital processing stage using an app such as Lightroom (see Fig 2). While virtually any scene can be photographed and processed for black-and-white, as was the case for decades before colour film was commonly available, some scenes “work” better than others.

More so than colour, light plays a key role in black and white. Under soft lighting conditions of an overcast day, it can be difficult to properly separate the middle tones to prevent them from becoming “muddy”. That’s where the “darkroom” work comes in. Previously, we would boost the film by giving it N+1 or N+2 development and, perhaps use a higher contrast paper. In harshly-lit conditions, we would process film at N-1 or N-2 and/or use lower contrast paper. Now, in Lightroom, we adjust a combination of tone curves, contrast, clarity, white and black points, shadows and highlights to recreate our vision from the field. We’re doing the same thing as before, but using tools that allow for finer adjustment.

Some of the black-and-whites below you may recognize from previous posts as colour photos. Try not to compare them to the colour photos as too often, colour “wins” if only due to familiarity. Try to see the B&W photographs as something different. Black-and-white photographs encourage you to look beyond the obvious to see the textures and shapes that create a scene.

After viewing the gallery, please leave a comment, ask a question or offer constructive criticism; and take a moment to share this post with others. Thanks for reading.

Lake Superior III: Potholes and Puk

After that glorious morning photographing in the mist along the shore of Rabbit Blanket Lake, we packed up and headed north. Having backpacked, canoe-tripped and car camped with a tent, it has been downright luxurious to be trailer camping. It’s quick to set-up and take down and, with electricity, it’s meant we could download and begin processing photographs each night or during mid-day when the light is harsh. The added bonus is having a coffee maker on a timer!

Between Lake Superior Provincial Park and Pukaskwa National Park are the towns of Wawa and White River, remote by southern Ontario standards, and a bit depressed. In fact, all along the Trans-Canada we saw signs of deterioration. Many gas stations, tourist motels and shops were not just closed, but long-abandoned. After returning home, we noticed a CBC feature on a photographer who had chronicled just this. Kerry and I put it down to the changing taste of tourists: “rustic” is now passé. More and more families want and have the money for more upscale places where they (and, more importantly, their kids) will be entertained at “name-brand” places rather than Mom-and-Pop places. This, combined with people retiring out of the business without anyone to buy them out or hand it down to is also part of the problem. Sad really.

At Wawa, we took the 101 east towards Chapleau to visit a place the geographer in me has always wanted to see: Potholes Provincial Nature Reserve. It’s just a small place with a 300m trail, but it leads to some beautiful, large, but slightly underwhelming potholes and carved rock features. I think the potholes at Rockwood Conservation Area are far more numerous and interesting, but these, carved out of much harder granite, and with interesting water flow features make it worth a stop if you’re ever in the area. Potholes are huge, cauldron-sized and larger, round holes bored into the bedrock when rocks were caught in a vortex of a large sub-glacial or post-glacial river. The swirling rock and grit literally drilled down creating the pothole. Here are three photos from Potholes. Continue reading below.

So, now were in Puk – Pukaskwa National Park (pronounced Puk-a-saw). It is a gem of a park with the raw beauty of the Canadian Shield and its forests meeting the cold waters of the Lake Superior. It’s great for kayaking and hiking with the rugged, “physically demanding” Coastal Hiking Trail. Kerry and I experienced that 21 years ago when we chartered a boat down to the southern end and hiked the 60km back to Hattie Cove. Being younger and more foolish, in addition to our camping gear, we each had a 35mm system, a 4×5″ camera system and a tripod (not the lightweight carbon tripods of today, that I still can’t afford!). But now, we return with a trailer; age has its privileges, one of them being wisdom!

For me, the goal was to capture the essence of the Lake Superior Coast and its rocky details; the Hattie Cove campground area and trails offer many options to do so. There are three beautiful sand beaches (if only the water temperature was swimmable!), with tons of driftwood, forest edges and great rock features. Each morning and evening we “worked” a different area or trail. Again, the weather was “too nice” most of the time with clear blue skies and not enough wind to create decent waves – good for kayaking, I guess. We had one morning of fog which added another dimension, but really curtailed our shooting to the golden hours with a few snaps along scouting hikes during the day.

I made a number of significant photographs while at Pukaskwa, significant to me, anyway. In this post, I’ve added a couple of photos to give a “sense of place” and some of the “detail” photographs I so enjoy making. At this point, I’m making interchangeable use of the Sony RX-10iii and the Nikon D800E, although most of these, shot during “scouting” hikes, were made with the Sony. In the next post, I’ll follow up with some landscapes. Dawn and dusk were spectacular!

After reading and viewing, please take a moment to comment, question, add critique and share this post with others.

This is the third in a series of blogs about my recent photo trip to Lake Superior. The first two blogs are I. Chutes PP and II. Lake Superior PP. Thanks for reading!

Chutes, Evening, River aux Sables, Ontario

Lake Superior I – Chutes

I have just returned from 10 days in northern Ontario, eight of which were spent along the coast of Lake Superior at Lake Superior Provincial Park and Pukaskwa National Park. Both of these parks are exceptional examples of how wild and spectacular the Canadian Shield can be with fast-flowing, rocky rivers, waterfalls, rich forests, dramatic coasts and beautiful granite sculpted by glaciers, water and over a billion years of time.

The weather? Well, it was too nice. Not once did we put on raincoats, although we did have enough rain one night to close the Trans-Canada due to a washout. Other than that one day, everyday was blue sky with few or no clouds and daytime temperatures in the low 20s – perfect summer weather for hiking up and down headlands and through forests, but for landscape photographers who would prefer a few “Ansel Adams” or ” Arthur Lismer” clouds, not ideal!

The bugs? Despite it being the height of mosquito season, neither of us even once put on bug dope – and we were up at dawn and out after sunset, hiking through damp forests and alongside rivers. It’s not that there were no bugs, believe me there were, but they never go to that threshold level that demanded a dose of DEET.

I travelled and photographed with Kerry Little. Kerry and I go back to my few years at the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs (OMAFRA) when I worked in photography, just out of university. Kerry is now a commercial photographer specializing in agriculture photography and aerial photography. Our two families travelled to Superior together two or three times back in the 1990s when our kids were young. He has a trailer that was itching to travel and, like me,  Kerry was in need of a dose of northern Ontario.

There’s something about being north and remote that gives perspective to the rat race of southern Ontario. Everything slows down. There’s no internet connection or cell service in the parks which alters the focus from screen to reality. Neither of us are the type to be tied to a device in the first place, so it wasn’t a difficult switch, but it was still refreshing to be immersed in nature, not worry about what day it was, and worry only about being in the right place at the right time, which meant being on-site to take advantage of the golden hours of morning and evening.

As the drive to Lake Superior Provincial Park, when pulling a trailer, is over 10 hours (almost 1000km), we decided to spend our first night at Chutes Provincial Park in Massey, Ontario. Although we had both visited the park previously for quick overnight stays, we didn’t realize that beyond the falls there was a trail that followed the River aux Sables for a short distance, taking us to more cascades and pools. Beautiful! We spent the evening at the falls and the next morning along the west bank of the river, catching the morning light. We both thought Chutes would be a great place to return to on our homeward journey.

Much of my photography on this trip was done using my Nikon D800E, not, as I’ve done in the last year, with the Sony RX10iii. There are two reasons why:

  1. I have always put a premium on quality for my landscape photographs. The Sony takes high quality photographs – ideal, really for on-the-go travel photography – but, this trip was not that kind of a trip, it was one dedicated to photography. So, when I have the time to slow down, work on a tripod and really concentrate on photography, I prefer the D800E. The additional dynamic range (14.3 vs 12.6) and pixels (36mp vs 20mp) also help ensure that whatever I point the camera at, I have a better chance of a higher quality image (even if I fail in the composition and execution!) (DxOMark Comparison)
  2. I also love working with super-wideangle and the widest on the Sony is 24mm (full-frame equivalent). Using the D800E meant I could use my 18-35mm zoom. In fact, 60% the “keeper” photos I made this trip were made using this lens; and over half of those at 18mm. Could I have made the same photos at 24mm? Yes, and they would have been similar, but 18mm adds that additional near-far exaggeration that, to me, recreates the drama of me being there.

I will be posting photos and elaborating on them over the next few days, so stay tuned! And, enjoy the new, updated gallery – click on a photo and you can now use the navigation buttons to scroll through all of them, one by one (thanks, AngieMakes).

Be sure to share this with your photo- and nature-geek friends and take a moment to leave a comment, ask questions or add some constructive critique. Thanks for reading.

Killarney

Morning, George Lake, KillarneyNow that the bulk of my “day job” has wound down, I have a bit more free time to write and share (and to complete the jobs on this summer’s “honey do” list!) It also means some time to do the things we most love to do… travel, camp, hike, canoe and, for me, photograph. So, in the last week of June, Laurie and I packed up the car and made our way up to Killarney.

Killarney Shield from Granite Ridgeif you’ve never been to that part of Ontario, then you are missing a real gem. You can either choose among the 20 best rv rentals in Florida – rvrentalscout.com or take your minivan but travelling to Killareney Provincial Park by road is a must things to do. Killarney Provincial Park is uniquely located on the Canadian Shield where a 1.5-billion-year-old batholith is up against the eroded roots of 2.25-billion-year-old mountains that were once the height of the Himalayas – they are now the white quartzite ridges of the La Cloche Range. What makes for spectacular photography, though, also makes for difficult hiking. The 87km La Cloche Silhouette Trail (which we did not do!) is one of the most difficult in eastern Canada.
OSA Lake and Killarney RangeInstead, we opted for car-camping at George Lake combined with day-hikes along the Cranberry Bog Trail, the Chikanishing Creek Trail and the Granite Ridge Trail. We also spent the better part of day canoeing and portaging the 23km round-trip to OSA Lake. OSA (Ontario Society of Artists) Lake is a gorgeous vermillion blue colour set against the deep green of the boreal forest and the white quartzite of the La Cloche Range. Its moniker comes from the fact that AY Jackson and the Group of Seven painted extensively in the area and had a hand in having the area protected from logging. In fact, one of my favourite places is AY Jackson Lake – a 15-minute hike from the George Lake Trailhead.

We camped in the eastern part of the campground in the radio-free (but not necessarily noise-free or idiot-free) part of the park. The idiots I refer to are the twenty-something “guys weekend” group who were not only loud, but also messy campers, leaving food, etc. out which ended up attracting a young bear. Luckily it was one of their tents that was trashed, not ours.

_D8E8724-WEBOur second full day was rainy – a perfect time to spend photographing the wonderful lupines along the Hwy 637 corridor. They were an unexpected splash of gorgeous colour we could not pass up. Given the beautiful, soft light and the light rain, Laurie’s photos from the iPad rival mine made with the D800E! I went to Killarney expecting wonderful landscapes, but came home with some lovely wildflower shots as well.

One of the styles I’m working on with wild flowers is replacing my 105mm macro lens with a wideangle lens, typically my 24mm. It takes just the right set of conditions since the wideangle shows so much more background. I think I was successful with the blue flag iris and the harebell, but less so with the bunchberry.

20mm
20mm

Of course, in landscape mode, I love working ultra-wide with the 20mm. Given a detailed foreground, the 20mm is unrivalled for giving the feeling of being able to walk into the scene. The 24mm also had a good workout. For both the AY Jackson Lake and George Lake morning ‘scapes, I used my Dawn, AY Jackson Lake, KillarneyND400 filter to get much slower shutter speeds of five to 15 seconds which removed slight ripples on the lake providing a glossy surface for reflections.

Needless to say, it was a fruitful trip, photography wise, and it re-invigorated our love of northern Ontario. The sad part was returning to the bustle of southern Ontario – and the NOISE! It’s really surprising how much noise we put up with down here – and don’t even realize it becasue we’ve become to used to it. The noise of the city becomes painfully obvious after being in a place devoid of that white noise.

For more photos of Killarney, head on over to my Flickr album

Thanks for reading.