Eagle in Flight! Chilkat River, Alaska.
While my trip reports are always about landscapes and wildlife (this report is a photographic continuation of my recent trip to Alaska), I want to talk about the human side of photography. To thank all of those people I have met and who have helped me with my photography and travels. Meeting and learning from others has been one of my greatest pleasures over the years.
Inside Passage! Lynn Canal, Alaska.
Throughout my life, I’ve always had a camera close to hand. Five years ago, after retiring from my nature, land, and water conservation work, I started on this latest journey with Northwest Rivers Photography. But before then, for decades, you could find me most always with an inexpensive film camera hanging around my neck, or a point-and-shoot camera strapped to a backpack or lifejacket, or less often, tethered to my buoyancy compensator (bc) or wrist when diving or snorkeling.
Chilkat Eagle. Haines, Alaska.
When traveling, it is not always feasible to bring all of your gear, even a backup camera. In Alaska, I was talking to a photographer from New York City on his very first trip to our 49th state (admitted in 1959). On the last day, his camera fell into a pool of water and ice! I am not sure of the outcome but I am hoping for the best. Imagine flying nearly 3,000 miles, surrounded by the wonder of your first time in Alaska, and …. plunk! …disaster! I still carry a small waterproof camera in my pack as a backup. Redundancy for an emergency is always a good idea.
Iceberg! Mendenhall Glacier, Juneau, Alaska.
If you needed any added incentive, photography gives you a different perspective and that extra opportunity to explore the world and seek out places that few others may visit. Beautiful scenery, wildlife, early mornings, late evening, and solitude. For me, that spells freedom!
Fight & Flight! Chilkat River, Alaska.
Equally, photography provides the chance to talk to people: locals, other photographers, tourists, travelers, park rangers, experts in so many areas, and even border security guards! Having a camera on you seems to open the door for others to approach you. Your equipment can lend you an air of knowledgeability (sometimes even deserved) and others can feel free to ask questions about camera technique, your background, how you came to be in this place at this time, and where and when best to see wildlife! Everyone is different, and for the most part I’ve found people to be wonderful. So often, meeting and talking with others is the best part of a trip.
While I am usually friendly and considerate, I am not by nature overly gregarious or outgoing (the reason I like to get off on my own and spend time in wild and remote landscapes). My personal social register is usually pegged on a low setting. But in almost every one of my adventures, meeting others has made that trip special.
Light Along the Shore! Juneau, Alaska.
In Haines, my hotel forgot to come pick me up at the Ferry terminal. Cell phone coverage was nonexistent, and the land line on the wall (when was the last time you saw that?) was out of commission. I was stuck, and I probably looked it. After a while, a man approached and asked if I needed help? I said I needed a ride into town, and soon I was throwing my packs in the back of his pickup and on my way. I learned a lot about the local community and got recommendations on wildlife from a local expert and made a new friend.
Eagle & Salmon! Chilkat River, Alaska.
On my way back home, I was walking predawn from my hotel to the Juneau airport. It was a short walk, but it was dark, cold, and while I knew the way, I wasn’t sure of the most direct route among the roads and buildings. Along came a van, and the driver rolled down the window and asked if I was going to the airport (I’m pretty sure he figured I’d get run over dressed all in black). In a minute we were on our way, sharing stories of life in Juneau.
Bear In Water! Chilkat River, Alaska.
Thinking back to earlier times, I may have had a different perspective. But Alaska is different than south Philly or New York. People seem friendlier, and the mind set seems to be you don’t let someone wander about without offering help. And it is a great way to talk and learn about life in Alaska from those who live there.
As more people travel and get outdoors (including photographers), there are areas where you may be less welcome, and locals are not always inclined to offer help or information. I’ve seen a bit of that, but most of my experiences have been of helpful people who go out of their way to welcome you and provide that insider perspective on both where they live and where to see wildlife.
Up Close & Personal! Chilkat River, Alaska.
In late October, my wife Stephanie and I were pulled off the side of the road looking at our map. We were in Paradise Valley just north of Yellowstone National Park when a pickup stopped, the window rolled down, and a man with two dogs in the backseat asked if we needed help. I told him I was a photographer and we were looking for a specific road. After giving us directions, he then told me all of his favorite places to see wildlife, including the best season, time of day, and what to look for. His info was excellent and really helped us find brown bears and bighorn sheep that we might never have found on our own. Thank you, and you live in an amazing valley!
Quadruplets! Chilkat River, Alaska.
I’ve talked with those who are fed up with tourists (and gotten free ice cream for caring and being different), I met a Norwegian family in Bella Coola that was on a four-to-five year walkabout with their two young daughters (now somewhere in South America), and spent quality time with other photographers in Alaska, British Columbia, Yellowstone, and America’s Southwest deserts. By the side of the road, I’ve talked in whispers with others as we watched a mother bear and her cubs stroll by… lying in the tall grass, watching with others as arctic fox peak out from their dens… stopped on the road as bison thunder by or a sloth slowly climbs a tree in Costa Rica… in the still cold of early morning photographing great grey owls or harlequin ducks with friends. With people I did not know, and will never see again, watching the Northern Lights in Fairbanks or a lunar eclipse in Fiji.
Eagles In Flight 2! Chilkat River, Alaska.
In each example, it was learning about new areas, customs, or interests from those that I was with that was so special. Sometimes, not talking at all, but sitting quietly watching something amazing and knowing that those near you share the same heartfelt and important experience. While it is easy for me to be blown away by something in nature, it is so much more powerful when others are as awestruck as you are. To look and see tears in the eyes of those around you as you listen to the early morning howl of a wolf or the cry of a loon ... to watch the light fade in the valley and see the tired but excited faces of people heading home after a long day in nature.
Eagle In Flight 3! Chilkat River, Alaska.
I treasure each moment that I watch the rays of first light steal over the horizon, watch the storm light fade and the rainbow appear, that I spend alone on a high peak, along a river, or in close proximity to species that are not human. But I also realize that nature, in all its magnificence, is not mine. It belongs to everyone, to be shared, enjoyed, stewarded, and constantly and fiercely protected. We truly only get one world! Drink it in, share it, protect it!
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