Ann-alog, a Pixel Remix, where Ann Torrence blogs about photographing for a book on U.S. Highway 89, the greatest road trip route in America. Photography tips, locations, trip reports, and real life.

Bronc rider at North American Indian Days 2007, Browning, Montana

I once read an article (source forgotten, probably Birding) about a teacher preparing her preschoolers for an outing to the local aviary. Long before the field trip, each kid was equipped with a pair of binoculars (two toilet paper tubes taped together and a yarn neckstrap). As the students lay on the floor, she had them practice tracking birds with the binoculars by zipping a tissue-paper bird along a string suspended above the classroom. When the kids got to the aviary, they paid attention to the birds the teacher pointed out to them. Impressive results for zero optical elements in the binoculars and the native focusing ability of four year olds.

If looking through a cardboard tube changes the participatory experience for preschoolers, how does observing events through the viewfinder of my camera impact my own experience of the event itself? This question has been on my mind a lot as I have been collating images for my talk at the Moab Photo Symposium. I didn't need my archives to remind me of the extraordinary experiences my Highway 89 project has afforded me. But at the same time, I wonder what part of the experience of being there I may have missed through the crystal veil of the lens.

Photographing can give me a shot of courage (I forget to be afraid of flying when I'm shooting out the window, even if the pictures are useless) or serve as a convenient prop in an awkward moment (as official family reunion photographer you can escape boring conversations with distant relations). Mostly, the act of photographing has given me the license and spunk to push to the front of the action with brashness that surprises even me.

But the act of photographing has never been neutral to my experience at hand. Framing, composing, creating engages a different set of neurons than just observing. I've written before that I become strangely unverbal while shooting. Even more peculiar, I can stand in the cold for hours and not really feel it until after the gear is put up and I start to get warm, long after R has taken refuge in the truck, which is completely the opposite of our regular patterns, say when birding. If the act of creating impacts this basic brain processing, I can only assume that other parts of the perceptual experiences change. I wouldn't agree that my perception degrades, but it is different than when I set down the camera.

The thing is, I want it all: the photos and the raw, unfiltered experience. Sadly, I haven't perfected my avatar such that I might do two things at once, so I make choices, compromises. Simply training myself to photograph with both eyes open has helped me to stay tune with essence of the total experience. And when I am lucky enough to photograph a singular event (like the Indian Rodeo at North American Indian Days in Browning, Montana), I remind myself take a moment to lower the camera from my eye, to drop the crystal veil. Inhale the experience: smells, sounds, fill all the senses. Engage with my fellow participants, smile, laugh together. Just be present. Breathe. And then back to dance with the Nikon that brung me.

Custom saddle-making

The Desert Caballeros Museum hosts an annual exhibition of cowgirl artists, called Cowgirl Up! I saw the 2007 show, but it wasn't up last month when I was in Wickenburg for Gold Rush Days.

After I made the photos I wanted, I had some time to kill before my next appointment. As I wandered toward the main intersection in search of refreshment, a pair of boots, embroidered with "Cowgirl Up!" caught my eye, as did the window sign that said "Karen Lamontagne" and "saddlemaker." As I opened the door, the proprietress herself greeted me, and we made a few photos at Riata Custom Saddlery before she sold me my very own cowgirl boots.

On Friday, I went to see not one, but two exhibitions showcasing the Utah section of Highway 89. It was a great opportunity to see other artists' perspectives on my favorite topic.

John Telford, one of Utah's most well-respected photographers, has about 60 images from his series, "People, Places and Things Along US-89" at the Rio Gallery in the Rio Grande Station. The photographs are traditional silver gelatin prints in a near-panoramic format. The format is an unusual, but effective choice: most of his subjects are environmental portraits of individuals who live and work along the route. The scale of the prints invites a close inspection, an intimate interaction with each subject.

I particularly enjoyed Telford's portrait of Merlin Figg of Orderville, maker of handmade caskets, and the Freeds, owners of the Lagoon resort in Farmington, shot on the park's carousel. I laughed at the shot of the Kane County sheriff dummy in the squad car, one that has slowed me down on numerous occasions. Telford acquaints the view with a fascinating slice of Utah: beekepers, knifemakers, and politicians.

Telford's panoramic views around Big Water and the Sevier Valley are simply lovely; I wish there had been room for more in the exhibit. Utah's segment of Highway 89 comprises about a third of the overall length of the 1,600 mile historic route; even 60 photos can hardly begin to cover the subject.

I hope to go back to the Rio Gallery on Friday, March 21 for the opening reception (6-9 pm). I hope to see some of my blog-readers there too.

Sadly, I didn't get to "The State Street Project: A Portrait of Utah" until the last day it was mounted. Eight artists interpreted their travels along the highway in collage, photography, watercolours and oil paintings. Because the show is going to travel around the state, I'll have more to say about it in another post, when you can go see it.

Reed Thomas's Quarter Horses, Mount Pleasant, Utah

In previous posts, I discussed the use of Photoshop's some blending modes for image adjustments: darken/lighten and multiply/screen. Today I am comparing four more blending modes: Color Burn vs Linear Burn and Color Dodge vs Linear Dodge (Add).

The Flying M cafe is in Panguitch, Utah

Today is another flying day. I said good-bye to mom yesterday, leaving her in good spirits and with a freezer full of home-cooked zip-locked meals. Today, I go back to the airport, to go to Big Sur with my husband to celebrate us. Our anniversary is Sunday, 8 years married, and almost 17 as a couple. So for today, M is for (happily) married. The flying part fits too - traveling together is one of our greatest joys, especially in the west. And every trip begins with his coffee.

If you find yourself in Panguitch (the gateway to Bryce Canyon NP), the Flying M is a great place to have a breakfast. Probably lunch and dinner too, but I can't share any experience on that point. I liked my breakfast well enough to put the cafe on my list of places to eat on Highway 89.

I'm traveling light this weekend - it's vacation for both of us, and that means he doesn't have to stand around while I make those "just one more" pictures. I'm taking the G9, one SB800 flash and some Pocket Wizards. And no "must get" list of shots. Just vacation pictures, me and my guy. Happy anniversary, R.

Cedar Breaks National Monument

I returned on Thursday to Phoenix to lend a hand while my Mom is laid up with an injury. I had the G9 out in the cabin while I read the manual with some deliberation. It's a testament to the qualities of that camera that I've owned it for almost 5 months, and I haven't HAD to read the manual. On the other hand, the effort to read the manual revealed a dozen features I'll be using shortly.

Not on the plane, because sadly, I didn't get through my own pre-flight checklist on the way out of town, and the battery ran out over the Oquirrh Mountains. I really regretted the spare being packed out of reach too, because for the first time, I could follow Highway 89 from the air. We flew right over Granite Dells, north of Prescott, and I could trace its contours southward almost to Yarnell HIll.

I spent 13 of 29 days in February on the road, so my progress on some of my 2008 goals has been somewhat slowed.

1. Get in shape 13 days on the road has not been good. I did military press my camera bag into the overhead cabin, but I can do better still.
2. Baseline mammogram for once, procrastination has paid off. Our health insurance has a special offer until the end of June: they've eliminated the co-pays on preventative care. Additional motivation to get that one checked off the list.
3. Find a publisher Three queries are out right now.
4. Learn to ride a horse I bought the necessary cowboy boots when I was in Wickenburg last month. An adorable pair, with a working sole, and turquoise stars on the uppers. When I get home again, I will make some photos of them, and tell you about Karen the saddle-maker who sold them to me.
5. Take more salsa lessons Done, but more of more would be fun.
6. Install CS3 done.
7. Establish a systematic keywording workflow Since I wrote the Lightroom posts, I've been assembling my keyword list in Excel. I'm going to need to be back at the ranch to move one.
8. Launch snappola.com I Still simmering on the back burner for a while.
9. Shoot the wedding dress remix still waiting until June, or July (when the snow melts!)
10. Make a Turducken scheduled with Millie, we are exchanging emails on the recipe while I am down here in Phoenix.

Nothing more completely crossed off, but I did get three essential topics covered for the book in the month of February. I'm scouting for wildflowers along the highway while I'm here in Arizona. Driving on into the month of March, 10 more months to go on this list.

The snowmobiling crew

Hey Snowmobilers: Right click on the pic, download the file (it's larger than the thumbnail shown here, 5x7 crop. Print it at Costco or your local one hour lab. I enjoyed meeting you all!

Google Maps view of Highway 89

I created a map of many of my favorite sites along Highway 89. It's a public map, so please feel free to add your contributions if you have a Google account. It's free and easy.

Sarah and Sam, Percheron draft horses, pull one of the sleighs at the National Elk Refuge

My friend Nancy and I really wanted good imagery of the National Elk Refuge, but neither of us had been there before in winter. We had a pretty fine excursion on the sleigh in the morning, but the light wasn't coming from the right direction. Even though it meant a late, late drive, we had lunch in town and went out again in the afternoon.

Bison and Old Faithful

Right on cue, this bison ambled in front of Old Faithful on Tuesday.

Ice Column, Afton, Wyoming

Can anyone explain how this ice column erupted out of the farmland alongside U.S. Highway 89 in Afton, WY? On the way to Jackson today, I saw three of them. This one was the largest, and spouting a bit of spray out of the top every now and again. Usually, I can engage in some fool speculation leading to a hazarded guess, but this one has me completely at a loss.

Entertaining guesses also encouraged, but please keep it safe for work reading. And if you actually know something about this, how long will it be before it melts?

More photos from last weekend's Hells Angels Prison Run in Florence Arizona.

I've had a lot of new blog visitors since I posted about the Hell's Angels Prison Run. Here are some more photos from the event.

What was I doing out there anyway? AZ79 from Florence Junction to Oracle used to be part of US89, before that segment was decommissioned in 1992. I'm photographing a book on the entire length of the old Highway 89. The prison run is a (the) great event in Florence, no way I would miss it.

Where does Highway 89 go? Nogales AZ to Piegan MT. If you've been to Grand Tetons, Zion, Yellowstone, Glacier, Saguaro, Bryce, or Grand Canyon National Parks, you've surely traveled part of Highway 89. It has to have some of the greatest biker roads left in America. One secret stretch is between Great Falls and Livingston MT, a back route from Glacier to Yellowstone. Would make a great side trip around Sturgis time.

How can I get the book? Be sure to sign up to receive an email notification when the book comes out. I promise I will not use it for spam or other evil.

Please don't hot link my blog photos to forum discussions or Myspace pages. It might seem free, but I pay for bandwidth every time someone reads your page. I've uploaded these photos to my Flickr account, so hot link from there if you want. Reprinting, editing, or redistributing these images without my permission would not make me happy. If you need them for something, just ask.

Hey that's me? Please get in touch if you are in one of the photos.

Thanks to all the riders - it looked like you were having a great time. Hope nobody got hassled and everyone made it home safe. Maybe I'll see you next year.

Hells Angels Prison Run - Florence, Arizona

Update 15 Feb 2008: more photos here

The 25th edition of the Hells Angel Prison Run slowed traffic on the old Highway 89 between Tucson and U.S. 60 to a crawl yesterday. When Arizona became a state in 1912, the spoils of statehood were divvied up: Tucson got the university, Phoenix the capitol, and Florence the state prison. Incarceration is the basis of the town economy, to the point that the federal census is skewed by the numbers of inmates. The Hells Angels have organized an annual ride past the prison yard, and the town cooperates to the extent of redirecting traffic and bringing extra help into the McDonalds.

Much of Pinal County's finest were driving the highway too. I saw the K9 unit, the commercial vehicle enforcement unit, the chopper circled overhead. They ran my i.d. once. I asked how many participants would likely spend an unplanned evening in Florence's accommodations, but that officer wouldn't speculate.

The Hells Angels were expecting between 1,000 and 1,500 bikes. I didn't count them. A vast comparison shopping opportunity roared by, if one knew about motorcycles. I called Millie, the motorcycle enthusiast neighbor who dreams of a Honda Goldwing, and when a dozen bikes blew by, I held up the phone so she could hear the engines. I had a lot of time on the side of the road while I waited.

I park myself at my mom's house in Phoenix when my Arizona locations are within day trip range. This morning she saw this photo and asked what I was doing in the middle of the road. I didn't have a good answer for that question, other than that's where the bikes were. She brought me up better than to say things like that, so I said we shouldn't discuss it. I'm editing the rest of the pictures before I show her any more, because I did have to cross the road more than once.

Seen on the streets of Wickenburg

Wickenburg launches its annual Gold Rush Days festivities with a gun battle in the streets, after the mayor's speech, and some other preliminaries that didn't capture my attention. This is the 60th year of the party. One of the speakers said her family had settled there in 1857.

Like everywhere else along Highway 89, Wickenburg is changing fast. The highway is being rerouted around the town. New gated subdivisions going in north of town, new zoning rules in the works for keeping stock have the ranchers showing up at the last city council meeting. Lots at stake, namely an entire lifestyle, which means lots to fight about. Hopefully not with old-time weaponry in the streets.

LED light show on the new light rail bridge over the Salt River, Tempe Town Lake

I hadn't heard of the LED display on the METRO light rail bridge over the Salt River before I got my private scouting tour of Tempe.. The trains won't be running for a year, but the bridge was in a full programmed display on New Year's Eve. Imagine that the rainbow pattern is snaking away from the viewer's perspective, slowly displacing the purple light. The new bridge sits between the original U.S. Highway 89 span (southbound Mill Avenue Bridge) and the Southern Pacific trestle.

I haven't quite figured out how to work the light rail element into the Highway 89 story, nor how I want to crop this image. I wonder whether the reflected lights on the left of the bridge were partially due to the New Year's Eve events, and will be less prominent when I return. I'll report back when I find out. This is a must-visit location for my next trip to the Phoenix area.

Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurant

We returned to Salt Lake to find the front of our palace draped in plastic in an attempt for the remodel to proceed despite the weather. Two electric space heaters running all night added a grand 5 degrees above the ambient 17°F; the propane torches they guys rented the next morning were much more effective.

The space heaters, regrettably, run on the same circuit as my computer. Before the electricians sputtered in disbelief and took decisive, mission-creeping action, my computer, my office space heater, our freezer, porch lights and furnace were all on the same circuit. We discovered this fact when a compressor and power hammer added to the line tripped the breaker. Now the furnace has its own circuit. But my computer popped off three times before I unplugged the space heaters. The contractor and I reached a consensus that 5 degrees really wasn't worth the bother.

Before we left Phoenix, I hunted down some more neon. There are actually two Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurants; this is the Van Buren location. The sunset colors started to develop nicely. The only problem was that the sign wasn't lit. So I went inside and asked, "what time does the sign come on?" and the manager blinked, said, "when I switch it," and did just that. If nothing else, photography has emboldened me to ask silly questions, often with great success in response.

It's a small thing, to step up and ask for help, but fear is such a huge barrier in art-making that any small victory is worth celebrating.

What separates artists from ex-artists is that those who challenge their fears, continue; those who don't quit. Each step in the artmaking process puts that issue to the test.

- from Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland

The book's discussion about making pictures, lots of them, in order to be able to make the pictures only I can make, has helped me rebound from innumerable failures and discouragements. It might be the best $10 I ever spent on photography.

New Years Fireworks at Tempe Town Lake, Arizona

Many of my dilemmas about photographing U.S. 89 have had the same solution: pay attention to what is right in front of me. I have wanted one more photo from the Phoenix area and I came down on this trip with the idea to get "it", and having no idea what "it" was.

I look for subjects that link the highway's history to the present, and especially stories about how communities along the route are reinventing themselves. The New Years football events are the big thing in this area, not something that I could find any angle of interest. That is, until through an unlikely coincidence, I met someone just this week who explained how it all ties to the highway itself.

Phan, Chi and Dennis

I once learned a field shorthand for birding, useful when the multitudes of species are flying about faster than one hand can write while the other is steadying a pair of binoculars. A simple name like Osprey gets shortened to the first four letters: OSPR; Bald Eagle takes the first two letters from each word: BAEA. Four words are shortened to first letter each, rendering Gray-crowned Rosy Finch as GCRF. The three word names start with one letter from the first two words, then two from the final part, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker becomes YBSA, and yes I have seen one-it is not a made-up-for-cartoons bird. The abbreviation scheme results in very few duplicates, none of which I can remember, all solved by an extra letter or notation in field.

Some of the abbreviations are amusingly apt: a TUVU is a great nickname for a turkey vulture, and the noise from a flock of Canada Geese sounds quite a bit like CAGO CAGO CAGO. I was thinking about this on the road, because I noticed some time ago that the National Park Service is using a similar shorthand on their website directories. It's a quick path to any specific park unit: www.nps.gov/code (lower case). On our journey southward, we drove through ZION, past the entrance to GRCA and on into WUPA. I love how WUPA sounds - perfect for Wupatki National Monument.

Like a mother, a book author should have no favorites among the parks along her highway, but I will confess a special fondness for Wupatki, and I plan my trips to Arizona with time to stop if I can. On Sunday, a full moon rose out of the painted desert into a perfect pink sunset sky. Here we met Phan, Dennis and Chi, students from the filmmaking program at USC (that's the Harvard Law School of filmmaking). Their project: a documentary on the southwestern U.S., in Vietnamese, for Vietnamese television. We exchanged stories. I made their photos. They interviewed me on camera for their program, then we exchanged model releases. How Hollywood, especially that last part.

Picture-making: Pocket wizards and my SB800, set on a wall of the ruin in the absence of a lightstand. Note to self: find a better light modifier for occasions like this, meaning it must be light-weight, packable, and yet not disperse as much light as the Lightsphere that I usually carry. No way my traveling umbrella set-up was going to assemble fast enough for the fading light, even if I had toted it from the car.

The students were running short on gas, so we followed them out of the monument to the first gas station over the pass toward Flagstaff They were heading to Santa Fe, while we stopped for the night in town, and another tasty meal at the Beaver Street Brewery (their bumperstickers sport a two letter code, BS).

Only now am I thinking how strange it would be to see myself in the students' film: I was wearing my red Santa cap, which looked about as silly as it sounds (worse in my eyes because it totally does not match my burgundy coat, but is effectively disarming when I am behind my own camera). I practiced hard at avoiding distracting hand movements and tried to make eye contact with the camera. But to hear myself dubbed into Vietnamese? Some things might best be left unheard and unseen--and R is glad I've put the Santa cap away until next year.

Condor with layered textorizer effect

I wrote a story about the day I photographed the condors at the Grand Canyon on my main website. I used the story text to make the textorizer2 file of the condor. It's a lot easier to read in the 1000 words section of my site.

Autumn colors in Zion National Park

Last week, I went to Zion to work. Today, I am taking my guy, my lawn chair, my cooler of Diet Pepsi, down to Springdale to relax. R's been on a mad race for a deadline since we came back from Montana in August, only slightly interrupted by a 130 hour trip to Japan (that would include the 50 hours of travel time). He deserves a weekend away. At first, I promised it would not be on US 89 to keep the focus on relaxation, but Zion is his favorite park, so that's the destination. I'll bring the gear, but without goals or expectations. Might see something different that way.

Don't sleep in

The second morning at Bryce Canyon, in which I did not sleep in, was even more magnificent. I moved around a lot, recomposed several variations, all the while the colors were getting more saturated.

I did not use the split ND filter, as I have not sawn off the tabs on the Cokin filter holder to make it so my 12-24 lens doesn't vignette. Instead, this image is a composite of four layers from three images (needed to ACR process the highlights in the clouds separately from the midtones, thus four). Even if I had MacGyver'd that filter holder, it probably wouldn't have worked, as the range of exposures is +4 stops.

Celebratory breakfast at the Flying M Restaurant in Panguitch. I've added it and my Springdale favorite to the Highway 89 dining list. A girl's got to keep her strength up.

Pinnacles at sunset

Glorious, absolutely stunning sunrise colors this morning, but I don't trust the monitor on this laptop well enough, so this will have to do. Afternoon light is challenging at Bryce, because the formations face east, are in the shadows early. The weather here never really cleared today, even at sunrise, but there were a few gaps around 4:30 so I went back into the park and saw this.

In between, I camped at the Panguitch library, which is small, tidy, and shares a space with the city office. Has wireless. I am becoming a huge fan of our rural libraries, doing a lot without much in the way of resources. Great places to write, do a little reading, sit in a chair other than the driver's seat between photography sessions.

I'll go back into Bryce in the morning. Depending on the weather, I will head to Zion tomorrow. Looks like it might snow here, just flurries, on Wednesday. Got to love the delayed switchover to Standard TIme - means sunrise isn't until 7:50, the most leisurely dawn launch ever!

I just posted Where to eat on Highway 89, and opened the page for comments, so please add your favorites. There are a few gaps. I don't tend to stop in Utah County, for example, because if I'm driving from the house, I'll eat before I leave home. I'm looking forward to trying your recommendations.

Snake Dancing across Highway 89, Afton, Wyoming

I arrived in Afton knowing where the high school was, and that a "snake dance," bonfire and powderpuff football game were on the schedule. Stopped in at Rulon's Burger Barn/Sinclair Gas station for some calories and information. Chocolate Zingers do not constitute nutrition, and the bonfire was built behind the teacher's parking lot at the school.

Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park

Can you believe this one's been in the vault since the end of July and I'm just now getting to it? There was that issue with two completely full hard drives that I spent all day Sunday sorting out... Now I'm filling them up again, starting with the DVDs I made in Montana in July and August. It's shocking how quickly you can kiss 500 GB good-bye.

The Vermillion Cliffs from the Hwy 89 viewpoint north of Bitter Springs

I spent this week alternating among book chapter edits, the shocking backlog of Photoshop work, and the downright appalling backlog of housework. Progress, but no completion on any of those task list items.

I found a parking spot with a broken meter at the library on Wednesday. Usually I have to run out every two hours to feed the meter, since the truck won't fit in the underground parking. Without fear of the parking enforcement golf cart, I spent hours tracking down facts I wanted to double-check. How many people drowned at Lee's Ferry before the Marble Canyon Bridge opened in 1929? (Eleven.) Interesting things like that.

I photographed the images for this view of the Vermillion Cliffs on my Tucson trip back in April on the way to Flagstaff in July. I had to check the dates on the original files--I've been so many places since April, I can't remember when I was where. The final image is a 6000x4000 pixel panorama stitched from three images. I use Photoshop's Photomerge to align the images, but I select the "keep as layers" option. Then I do my own masking to make seamless transitions. It makes a bigger, but better file. I could wrap my truck with a print from this file. I could turn the exterior of my house into a billboard with it.

Housework gives me a head-clearing break from my computer. Or so goes the theory. I did spent time this week with the vacuum, the mop, the scrub brush. But then Nikon and UPS surprised me yesterday with the early return of the repaired D2X. Broken aperature lever, an all-too-common, non-warranty repair. "Only" $400. When I approved the estimate on Wednesday, the technician said it would take 7-10 business days, so I was somewhat shocked to open the door yesterday (48 hours later) and find a box on my porch.

It's back, it works, and I have pictures to make. Those aspens are going to turn fall colors from Babb, Montana to Flagstaff, Arizona. Actually, all the way to the Santa Catalina mountains above Tucson, but that far south is over the top. Even for me. Time to get out the maps and plot my next course. With enough down time so Mr. Mop doesn't stay in the closet until November, so I can finish that chapter, so my friends will remember my name.

My new license plates

These new plates did not arrive before the big Montana voyage. Too bad, I could have used them for 2950 miles of shameless self-promotion.

It has occurred to me that I am giving up the anonymity of my automobile. Not that I gesture rudely, cut people off, or drive aggressively, but with the closest thing to my name plastered on my vehicle at all times, I can't hide behind the tinted windows like many Utah drivers like to do.

On the plus side, it's a little gesture toward building a brand (me) and building a market for my book. It's not like the topic of US Highway 89 has been overworked, compared to say Route 66. Just today, I was writing about the segment of Hwy 89 that was co-numbered with "that other road," from Flagstaff to Ashfork. Didya know that in 1917 the road was so bad people would ship their cars on the train rather than risk driving to Williams from Flagstaff? It wasn't surfaced until 1926, and that meant a layer of volcanic cinder, sort of like a gravel road today. Didn't see cement until the early 1940s. Hard to see the romance in that.

Not much romance in fact-checking my text either. I keep pushing myself to look a little deeper, make sure I've got it right. Mistakes happen, but there aren't any writer's tinted windows to hide behind out here on the sagebrush.

I showed a friend my new plates yesterday, and he expressed surprise that HWY 89 wasn't already taken. That possibility had occurred to me when I applied. But now I've got them, and that's a fact.

Jay Polite Laber sculpture detail, north of Babb, MT on Hwy 89

One major target for the Montana trip was to make some images of Jay Polite Laber's fabulous sculptures marking the northern boundary of the Blackfeet Reservation. I fell in love with his work when I saw it last month.

His playful use of car parts as art material has a deeper meaning. The sentries' scraps originate from the wreckage of a devastating 1963 flood on tribal lands. This Montana Magazine article tells more about the flood and the "rez wrecks".

All up and down on Highway 89, I find stories like this one, of respect, reinvention, and resurrection--of the west, of our stories, of ourselves. I hope to tell them all soon. And to meet Mr. Laber.

P.S. if you are in Browning, MT, stop by the hospital (follow the blue "H" sign, it's north of 89) to see his absolutely stunning sculpture, Medicine Circle, in the parking lot.

Route 66 signage, Williams, Arizona

Another neon sign I found on my last trip to Arizona, made quite a bit earlier in the evening, and a better illustration about the "blue light special" than the previous post.

Everyone knows about Rte 66, but not Hwy 89. It is great fun to talk with the people I meet about all the reasons that 89 is the greatest western road trip imaginable. I'll do the list another time - today's interesting fact is that the two highways actually merged together in Arizona for about 50 miles, from Ashfork to Flagstaff.

We are in Livingston, Montana, in a cafe called the Coffee Crossing on Park Street. R has rated the latte a 9 on the R scale, 1-10 (only one latte has ever "gone to eleven"). Very comfortable spot, with wi-fi. We have done our half dozen errands, from finding a notary for some last minute SLC paperwork to visiting the flyfishing museum. Next we head off into the Gallatin National Forest to the north, brand new territory. And when I reach Great Falls, I will have traveled every last mile of US89, a milestone I am greatly looking forward to.

Hay field below Glacier National Park, Montana

Guest blogger Millie tells about our adventure:

From Salt Lake City at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains and the edge of the Great Basin, to the end of Highway 89 at Piegan, Montana in the middle of the prairie at the border of the US and Canada in 5 days. Round-trip. Not too bad if you love road trips through the West as I do, and if you have the knowledgeable, talented, and interesting company that I had.

Team roping at the North American Indian Days INFR rodeo in Browning, MT

Millie's going to guest blog later this week and tell you about our adventures. Let me just say, 5 days, lots of miles, lots of shutter clicks.

The D2X rocks, that's one certainty in the midst of all the mileage and electronica. I reviewed some of the rodeo shots I made on Saturday, and the color, focus, and contrast are just gorgeous. I have done nothing to this RAW file, except resize it and a light sharpen (I don't sharpen in-camera at all). No saturation, no contrast. It is an sRGB file, which works better on the web for my tastes, but that's it.

The D2X is a beast. It's heavy. The buttons are spaced for a guy's bear paw, not my smallish hands. It does everything I ask. It's a beautiful piece of engineering. Kind of like some of the ponies we saw at the rodeo. Amazing animals, even more amazing horseman(woman)ship. If you get a chance to go to an Indian National Finals Rodeo event, don't miss it.

My Highway 89 book logo

I finished my logo yesterday and have been ordering paraphenalia ever since. I meet so many nice people on the road, and I want to have a postcard sized giftee in my bag for them to remember me and my project. Ideally, so they will remember to sign up for the email list so I can announce my publication date, when that happens.

Repurposing work is one thing I am very efficient at, so it didn't take me long to put the logo on a new CafePress site, and order myself and R a couple t-shirts to wear on the road. Walking billboards we will be.

Heading off to Montana today, out of the smoke and heat. The event, North American Indian Days of the Blackfeet Nation is just my kind of thing. And my friend Millie is going with me, to share the driving and the fun.

Mares and foals from Reed Thomas Quarterhorses

People ask me how I get myself into situations like a herd of horses heading my way at full gallop. Tuesday's first appointment is a good example about how I go about these things, if anything in my photographic life has a pattern.

Last year for the ongoing project, I photographed at the Mt. Pleasant, Utah rodeos - both of them, the locals-only friendly on July 1 and then two days later at the competitive events. On the arena wall, I noticed Reed Thomas's sponsor banner.

The Lamoni Queen

Isn't Jacqueline beautiful in her costume? I went down to Sanpete County yesterday for the project and met some wonderful people in Manti.

A few facts on the Mormon Miracle Pageant: 600+ performers (the town has about 2,500 citizens), 8 performances each year, expected total attendance is around 75,000. Most locals I talked to had played a variety of roles in the pageant over the years, perhaps starting as a boy as Nephite warrior, growing up to be a pioneer handcart tower, then into a major role like Joseph Smith or Brigham Young.

The performers, in costume, visit with the crowd while the attendees stake out their seats (the staff puts out 14,000 chairs for the weekend crush). As the first few stars come out, the 100 minute program begins, retelling key events of the LDS texts and history as seen through the eyes of a fictional couple, early converts to the church.

Not having seen this production before, I was naturally in the wrong place for a few scenes - the script runs at a rapid pace - but overall, I'm pretty happy with the pictures and grateful for the welcome I received. The biggest surprise (except for the flaming volcano set) happened after the pageant ended. I never imagined I would see a line of red tail lights snaking down Highway 89 in Sanpete County, much less at midnight on a Tuesday. This year's shows continue through Saturday, and expect a conga-line drive home if you go on the weekend.